For a storyteller presence is a very important asset

There is a good reason why it comes up in so many workshops with so many different exercises to achieve it. So, is presence something that can be learned? Or trained? To be honest – I really don’t know.
But I am pretty sure that Colin Urwin never had to bother with presence in his storytelling life. He just has it.

I first encountered Colin during the Sean McCarthy Festivals in Finuge – first as a singer and the day after as a storyteller. Both times I felt shaken awake just by this man entering the stage.
Then, during the course of my travels I had ample opportunity to listen to Colin. I had four CDs of him – three with stories and one with music.

There are a lot of storytellers that I’m really thrilled and inspired by. But there are only a few

that ever so often touch the depth of my heart with their stories, their voice and their way of telling their stories.

Colin Urwin does exactly that as a songwriter, as an author, as a singer and as a storyteller. This gift I can’t analyse – just as I can’t analyse the gift of presence. Which is a shame. It would help my career a lot if I could.

My stay in Ireland ended with the Cape Clear Storytelling Festival.

I was lucky enough to get a ticket for Colin’s show at the festival.
‘The Little Gold Ring’ is a story about the Spanish armada and how parts of it end up near the North Irish coast. It is a story about greed and of course about love.
It is an enchanting tapestry woven from historic facts and legends in which Colin closes some gaps that historic science still has with his own tales. And these tales are so deeply rooted in Colin’s love for his home county that they might as well just be true.
Songs, drums, verses and tales bring this tapestry to life and make it so rich that I wouldn’t have needed another story for the next few days …

You hear Colin’s love for County Antrim very clearly in his stories

But this love is not only the artist’s love in an academical way. It is a very grounded, down to earth, make your hands dirty love.
We are three storytellers from three different countries and we have an appointment with Colin. For breakfast.

Breakfast is great!

Sitting somewhere cosy and warm, drinking a cup of coffee. Well, not with Colin: “Let’s grab some bread and some cheese and then we can have a picknick outside.”
Strengthened by the picknick and the sea air we explore the heathered hills along the wild Irish coast.
I spent quite a big part of my travels in nature, but I seldom felt so close to it as I did on this day.

So, what bestows presence on a person?

Is it the closeness to nature with the big portion of grounding that comes with it? Is it the many different creative outlets that one might have to observe and accompany one’s surroundings and life itself?
I’ll have to ask Colin Urwin the next time I meet him …

https://www.colinurwin.com/

Well, I have to admit - quite profanely - they actually live in my brain. If my brain has the idea that this or that story is no longer needed, it gets deleted and has to leave my brain!
Even worse for me: I still have a good idea of the plots of most stories, but I have absolutely no recollection of how I have told that story. Which, in most cases means I have to start working on the story again from scratch.

With Cara Silversmith, it works completely differently

All her stories come from her heart. She doesn't have to 'dig out' a story with more or less effort. The stories bubble up when it's their time. And Cara knows many, many stories. Which of course means that Cara has a very, very big heart!

Above all Cara's heart beats for nature

Cara is from Scotland. You can hardly escape nature there. As a ranger, she almost automatically started telling stories. She has also done various educational jobs, especially for children. However, when Cara tells a story, it is not a lecture. When Cara tells stories, she opens our hearts to things that may need more love from us so that they can continue to help us sustain our lives. But maybe you won't even realise that Cara is performing these little miracles. Maybe you just realise that she enchants you with her wonderful stories and her big heart.

And then at some point you remember that tree you heard this great story about

... and wonder why you hadn't paid more attention to it before. That is 'story magic'!

You can see and hear many, many stories from Cara on her homepage.

You can find out much more about Cara and her relationship to stories in her really interesting podcast 'What of the Ground we are standing on?’

I owe Cara my favourite story of this entire trip

She told it 'on the spur of the moment' as we were on a little hike and walking past a rowan tree. This story touched me deeply and it instantly lodged itself in my brain, travelling up and down incessantly and has now made itself comfortable in there for the long term. This story will not be 'rationalise away' by my brain. Does that perhaps mean that this story now lives in my heart and is always available to me from there? I’ll check that when I hopefully meet Cara again.

https://www.carasilversmith.com/

A long time before I even had the idea for this trip the name of Liz Weir kept crossing my path.
I don’t have any reliable data on this, but I dare say that Liz Weir is internationally among the best interconnected storytellers. One reason for that, surely, is that she is unbelievably hospitable!

When I actually started to plan this adventure

... Liz Weir was the very first to invite me to visit her at Ballyeamon Barn. And this fist invitation – especially at that time – meant a great deal to me and helped me proceeding with this undertaking.
After that I soon stopped counting how often other storyteller referred me to her. It seems...

... her hospitality is as famous as she is herself.

Only when I’ve really hit the road did I realise how lucky I was to get to meet Liz in the beautiful County Antrim. Wherever I went Liz Weir has just been there or was expected there shortly. “Yes, she’ll come here directly from Australia.“, or, „Yes, but she’ll fly on the United Stated right afterwards.”, were only a few of the sentences I kept hearing.

When Liz Weir is actually at home at her lovely Ballyeamon Barn

– which incidentally is also a hostel and absolutely worth the travel – then she takes care of fellow storytellers from all over the world and of course also the regular hostel guests. I shared Liz's hospitallity with the Italian storytller Valentina Zocca and the Scottish storyteller Cara Silversmith. This included driving us around, showing us her favourite spots and organising storytelling evenings with music, of course, on the spot.
The list of Liz’s activities could go on forever. She gave life to so many groups and festivals – in addition to her regular work as a storyteller – that it’s hard to keep track for an outsider.

Speaking of keeping track

The list of foreign languages that Liz Weir speaks is long but traceable. But how many stories might there be in Liz’s head? Ready to be told at any time? I don’t know. I don’t know if even Liz knows. But have a social evening in her kitchen with maybe a few other hostel guests and you start to get an idea that there are very, very many. Probably uncountable. And from all over the world!

Once Upon a Time

And what if you have to decide that within an instant?
That could mean that you have just entered the realm of improvisation.

To be honest, up until now I have never felt really comfortable within that realm.

I didn’t set myself just very few rules on this journey. One of them says: I will go anywhere that I’m pointed to.
Well, Maria Gillen pointed me towards the improv workshop with Órla Mc Govern in Galway next Saturday. Hm, works perfect with my travel ideas. “It’s very popular. It’s probably full.”, is Maria’s encouragement.

Ha! Right before my email gets there somebody else has cancelled.

Very subtle signs …

It is with very mixed feelings that I arrive at the Blue Teapot Theatre on Saturday morning. On Saturday evening I’m leaving this same theatre in a great mood loaded with energy. I can’t remember the last time I have laughed so hard and so much!

The next day I can awe at Órla the storyteller

She has a job in medieval Athenry together with her partner Niceol Blue (who loves telling stories through music). Between bands, stilt walkers and facepaiting for kids they are there to enchant kids and their families with stories. To me, that is a perfect example of how helpful improvisation is.

On that weekend I learned very fast ...

... how much I have underestimated the benefits of improvisation. If you train it like a muscle, it helps you deal with pretty much everything that life throughs at you in a better and more relaxed way. You become more flexible.

Órla, of course, is a storyteller - amongst many other occupations … In film and theatre she works in directing, acting, voice overs and many other fields.

The little flame in her burning for improvisation has become a roaring fire while she was living in the States

As well as folk tales and improvisation, Órla was delighted and inspired by 'The Moth' movement of personal storytelling that she came across in The US.

When she returned to Ireland, she founded a collective/festival that brings together stories that are: personal ('moth style'), improvisational (butterfly / transformation ), and traditional (the body holding it together at the centre) - ‚Moth & Butterfly‘.

Very! If you let Rab Fulton tell them.

His regular pub is the Crane Bar

You find Rab on the upper floor every Thursday night in front of a crowd that represents nearly every flavour of the humankind. And rarely do they come for only one Thursday night.
It’s not just roaring laughter all the way through. You get you’re share of sadness and thoughtfulness. But don’t worry – after all you are in a pub. 😀

So, what does it take to make a whole crowd of different people be interested in and entertained by what you tell them?

Obviously, everybody’s answer will be different on that. Rab Fulton has a huge background to draw from. He is a stand-up-comedian, writes and recites poetry, has written several books on folktales and myths, leads workshops and – as I found out later – is just a very funny guy. Mix all that together, grab a pint of Guiness and some crisps and dive into some most entertaining Celtic myths with Rab Fulton the storyteller.

And there is even more to Rab’s telling than the obvious

We sat together after the gig. “Just for one pint.” Well, you know how well that works … Chatting away I learned that Rab added a few ‘pictures’ from other religions and myths from all over the world. But he did it so carefully and so respectfully that it takes a great deal of inside knowledge to notice.

That again shows me: We aren’t as different as we sometimes think.

A most entertaining lesson to learn! (And a far too short chat – will need to come back!)

Her great-grandmother told stories to her grandmother. Her grandmother told stories to her mother. Her mother told stories to her.

She is telling stories to the whole world

When Maria told her mother that she will work as a storyteller her mother didn’t understand her at first: “But everybody in Ireland is a storyteller.”

This self-perception is part of Maria’s genetic code

Together with an inexhaustible well of stories.

To walk with Maria through her hometown Cork

... you need far more than just one day. Partly, of course, because Cork is a beautiful and vibrant city. But mainly because Maria knows a story of nearly every corner and every house. Some of her stories may be family stories. Most of her stories – very impressively – talk of Irelands past and its way to the present.

Of course, Maria also has many huge bags full of stories around the beings and entities that are so famously at home in Ireland and about all those myths that are the bones of this island. In her telling you feel the deep connection with traditions. But at the same time there is room for the present. She is building precious bridges.

If you want to get a feel for Ireland

... then let Maria Gillen sow a few seeds into your soul.

Another festaival! Great!!

When I’m thinking ‘festival’

... I’m thinking hundreds of people, lot’s of shows all over the day, big tents, campers, cars – something that looks like people being out there.
When I get to Finuge on a Saturday afternoon it looks rather like a ghost town from the movies. A small ghost town, mind you. Hm …

On Saturday evening

... it’s the ‘Ballad Competition’ and it’s offering really good price money, too: € 1.00 / € 500 / € 250 for the first three winners. The first ballad is just beautiful, and it raised the barre right up high. At least that’s what I thought. I soon realised that County Kerry values very different things than I do.

On Sunday evening it’s ‘Storytelling Competition’

South Ireland’s storytelling is different – yet again – from everything I have heard and seen so far. Here, a story can even be something that we would rather call a poem. But rhyme or no rhyme it must not be longer than ten minutes (or you will be applauded out of the room). Oh, and please no personal stories. But it may be rough, sexist, political, modern or even traditional. Like so many things it’s a matter of personal taste …

John Francis Campbell (1821-1885) collected Gaelic Stories. Just about like the brothers Grimm did. But unlike the Grimms he wrote the stories down word for word as they were told to him.
He began his work in 1859.

And he didn’t pursue this just for the sheer joy of it

... but because even here in Scottland the telling of stories was about to die out. John Francis Campell tried to safe as many stories as he could find in the memories of the last remaining storytellers. And above all that he wanted Gaelic stories to be part of the world story traditions – just like those of the Grimms who he admired a lot.

“… as it is with driftwood in the Highlands, so, as I imagine, it has been with popular tales everywhere. They are as old as the races who tell them, but the original ideas, like the trees from which logs, masts and ships are made, have been broken up, cut, carved and ornamented – lost and found – wrecked, destroyed, broken, and put together again; and though the original shape is hard to find, the fragments may be recognised in books, and wherever else they may now be.”
John Francis Campbell of Islay

In the middle of Edinburgh’s touristic hotspot there is the Scottish Storytelling Centre. That in itself is very remarkable to me, and it shows what an important part the telling of stories is playing here in Scottland.
A few steps further on there is a pub – ‘The Waverly Bar’. Nothing fancy and not touristy at all. Rather more like you would imagine your typical local pub.

Through the pub and up some stairs

... you not only get to the toilets but also to a clubroom? An event room? Some sort of stage room? It is said that Billy Conolly started his career her. And upstairs like downstairs nothing seems to have changed since then.

Once a month the Scottish Storytelling Centre hosts a Guid Crack

... in this upper pub room. In July it presents Susi Briggs.
So I’m thinking: ‘Great, an evening of storytelling with Susi Briggs.’ Little did I know. Everybody who felt like it was invited to the ‘stage’. And it turned into a very colourful evening. We listened to myths, fairy tales for kids (“Don’t worry, I’ll simplify the plot for you.”), some gruffy stories and some frivolities, too.

The atmosphere was boiling, electrified.

Everybody joined in and had so much fun. The room was packed with locals and tourists. Just fantastic! Just what we need ad home, too!