22 Spørsmål

fra de iranske forfatterne Mohammad Jafar Ghanavati og Laleh Khusrawi.

Disse forfatterne forsker på europeisk fortellerkunst, og i den sammenheng har de sendt ut et spørreskjema til flere profesjonelle fortellere i Europa. Her er mine svar:

22 Questions

from Iranian authors Mohammad Jafar Ghanavati and Laleh Khusrawi

These two authors are doing research on the European storytelling scene, and in that context they have sent a questionnaire to several professional storytellers in Europe. Here are my replies:

1)a) How did you get to know the profession of storytelling?

I drifted naturally into telling stories through jobs in my late teens/early twenties connected to history fairs/viking markets/pedagogical museum work. It wasn’t totally clear to me, however, that it was actually possible to be a professional storyteller until I studied «The Art of Storytelling» at The University College of Oslo – one semester as part of a larger bachelor in «Drama- and Theatre Communication». At that point (the age of 25), I was introduced to the professional scene in Norway.

b) What was your motivation behind choosing this profession?

When it came to choosing a career, I felt like a weathervane, constantly moving in whatever direction the wind would take me. I had an interest in several fields – history, archaeology, linguistics, acting, writing, peace work and film production, which was reflected in my spread-out choice of work and study subjects. At one point, however, it dawned on me that even though all my choices seemed to lack any kind of linear progression, there was one single passion underneath it all: The love of storytelling. Whatever I did, I wanted to convey or shape or remake a story of some sort.

After finishing my theatre studies, I worked two years as a film producer. The work proved too taxing and too unrewarding, leading me into a breakdown. When understanding that I had to leave this career path, the path as a professional storyteller suddenly became very obvious. As if I had planned it all along. Choosing to become a storyteller connected me to a source of peace and calm, as if this was truly what I was meant to do. For the first time, I felt truly in sync with my life and the world. For me, becoming a storyteller is a calling and in many ways, a way of combining all my aforementioned interests, even peace work.

I want to, in my own small way, tell stories with the potential to mend and heal, to translate old wisdom into the modern age, and help to change the destructive stories we as a species tell ourselves. The storyteller is the conveyor of the unseen realms, a bridge between imagination and reality. It is a job not to be taken lightly, but with the greatest respect and humility.

c) What are your merits within this profession?

I have told stories for about 16 years, professionally for the last eight years. And for the last three years, I have worked as a full-time performance storyteller. I have created 18 unique performances ranging in length from 20 to 100 minutes, five of which are targeted at children and/or teenagers.

In addition, I have also worked with and performed smaller stand-alone legends, fairy tales and myths not included in this list of performances. I have performed and held workshops and seminars in Scandinavia, continental Europe, the British Isles/Ireland, the Middle East and Central Asia, and have been instrumental in developing multilingual storytelling, both as a method of translation and as a separate art form.

I have also done several years of organisational work:

• a) two years as the director of Norsk Fortellerforum (the National Norwegian Storytelling Association) and five years as a board member, seven years in total
• b) four years as a member of Nordgruppen, a forum for cooperation between storytelling organisations in the Nordic countries Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Finland and Iceland. During this period I was also the national coordinator for Nordic StorySlam, an annual storytelling competition event.
• c) one year as a member of the Steering Group of FEST (Federation for European Storytelling)

In addition I have been involved on different levels with arranging the annual international Norwegian Storytelling Festival since its inception in 2004.

In 2009 I received a 1 yr «Scholarship for Emerging Artists» from the Norwegian Culture Council.

2) Please describe in your own words what storytelling is.

Storytelling is the conveying of the unseen realms, the link between the imaginary and the real, the bridge or channel through which imagination can become real. Storytelling is the most powerful tool, the most important technology mankind has ever known. Wars are justified by stories, and disputes resolved by them. What stories we tell define who we are and how we relate to the world.

The American poet Muriel Rukeyser once said:

«The Universe is not made of atoms, but of stories.»

Nothing could be more true. Some of the heroic myths of old, where the hero has to transgress the borders of society to create a culture shift, prepared the audience for changes to come. We are in an age of change, and again storytelling appears on the scene, not only to recycle the myths of old, but to recreate them and make new ones, stories of the impending and necessary transformation of culture to ensure our continued and interconnected survival on this planet.

3) Please tell about the storytelling-traditions in your own country.

In Norway we have a strong, though extinct ( at least in its original sense ) bardic tradition. Whereas many other pre-monotheistic pantheons are dominated by a thunder god ( Zeus, Perun, Baal Hadad, Indra ), the Norse chief god Odin is the god of war, death and, significantly, poetry and wisdom.

According to legend, Odin regained the wisdom of the world from the giants by drinking it in liquid form and escaping in the shape of an eagle. When pursued through the air, he had to regurgitate it all over the lands of men and gods to lighten his belly and escape capture. These drops of poetic wisdom scattered all over the place, making poets grow up in the most unlikely of places.

In the Norse cultural area, there have been many warrior-poets, bardic fighters singing poems out loud in the heat of battle, creating songs on a whim to please an ally, or to appease a king. These verses or songs were called «kvad». One of our most famous warrior-poets is Egill Skallagrímsson born on Iceland in the 10th Century. There were also bards called skalds working professionally for kings and chieftains to create tale-songs about their exploits and victories for posterity.

In addition to this historical poetry, there has always been a vibrant tale-singing tradition among ordinary people, long storytelling songs with hundreds of verses, often accompanied by dancing in a ring or in a long snake-like shape. This still goes on today in folk dance groups and traditional societies.

As do all countries, we also have a great oral tradition of folk tales and legends. Though most urban areas have no unbroken connection to this oral form of communication, it is still somewhat alive in Northern Norway, among the aboriginal Sami people and in lesser populated regions of the country.

4) How is the situation of storytelling in your home-country?

The modern storytelling renaissance, beginning in the United States in the late 70s, spreading out to Europe in the 80s, reached Norway with full force in the 90s. In 1996 Norway was the first country in Northern Europe to establish «The Art of Storytelling» as a subject of higher study. This practical Oslo-based 6 month-course later got other siblings, most notably a twin in the northern city of Tromsø. Today it is also possible to do a 2 year course in «Oral Storytelling» part-time in Oslo.

Throughout the years, there have been a lot of people graduating from this course, and several of them work with storytelling on some level, whether it is as a full-time professional or part-time, often connected to a school teacher position. Media attention to the concept of storytelling has been slowly and gradually waxing, though storytelling as such is still not officially recognized as a separate art form.

Personally, I notice that when I tell people what I do for a living, there are now many more responding with something along the lines of «Oh, I’ve heard about that!» or «I know someone who do that.» than just a few years ago, when the standard response usually amounted to a blank stare and a «What now?».

The Norwegian Storytelling Festival will celebrate its 10th anniversary next year, and has also helped with professionalising and popularising the art of storytelling for the public. Many storytellers make a living through school tours, and a few others, like myself, focus primarily on performance storytelling for an adult audience.

5) What is the difference between traditional storytelling and modern storytelling?

Modern storytelling, at least in the sense I understand and practice it, has to relate to the performing arts in one way or another. Some traditionalists believe that storytelling should not have any theatrical elements and be very low-key without any flair, believing this to be closer to an original form of expression, and also as a way of differentiating storytelling from theatre.

However, I would claim that there are as many styles of storytelling as there are storytellers, and theatre did anyway evolve from storytelling and bardic tradition. When people speak about preserving traditional storytelling, and that when storytelling is put on a stage and made into a performance it becomes theatre, not story, they are in fact confusing the subjects.

This is not, as it might seem on the surface, a division between traditional and modern practices, but a division between two modes of storytelling that have always been there since we first aquired this mystical technology: Between the bard and the common man. The bard or skald or, in some cases, shaman, puts on a show, creates a ritual, sets a stage, uses performance as a tool. Modern performance storytelling still has this quality, it is not new, merely reinvented.

6) What is the purpose of storytelling?

To give hope. To explain and shape our experiences of the world. To come to terms with what life is offering us. To enable listeners to come in contact with universal truths through the power of metaphor. To connect. To create order and meaning out of apparent chaos. To structure reality. To make ideas real. To change attitudes. To give visions of what is possible. To connect Heaven with Earth.

7) What makes storytelling the most useful?

Neurobiologists say our brains are hard-wired for stories. Story is the de facto best possible way to communicate a message to someone. It can be through film, through literature, through any kind of media, but what makes oral storytelling so particulary effective and fabulous, is the fact that it happens here-and-now and has the potential to connect deeply in the present. In that way, oral storytelling, though with a lesser impact field than blockbuster movies, can be more effective in communicating important messages.

8) What theoretic and practical elements have an impact on development of storytelling as a profession?

Mentoring, education, arenas for experience exchange, the publication of papers, essays, creating a common language further defining modern storytelling for the layman and communicating this language to governing and cultural bodies. Festivals, reviews, and a larger and more self-evident presence in public life.

9) What kind of stories do you read, and what are your sources?

I use a wide scope of sources, from traditional material to historical sources to works on mythology, to even aspects of my own life. Anything can be a source for making a story that is connected to the issues of the present day. News coverage, conspiracy theories, cutting edge science – as a storyteller for the modern age, I believe it is extremely important not to become too mired in the old stories and a puristic interpretation of them. I think it is important to drink in their wisdom, and, like Odin, let it course through your system before you regurgitate it in a new form, fit for modern consumption.

If storytellers become museum pieces, we have failed our mission. We need to channel the old wisdom and give it new clothes, and I do not mean just modernising old fairy tales by adding cars and Ipads, I mean by actually rediscovering the essence of these stories and then resurrect that essence in new forms. We are not only standing on the shoulders of oral reproducers, but also on the shoulders of epic poets.

10) What are your criteria choosing stories and from where?

That there is a theme that resonates with me. Usually it comes intuitively. I see something, I hear something, it could be a biographical book on an historical figure, an image, a piece of music, a memory that keeps nagging me, and then a new story starts growing in my mind. Sometimes a folk tale nearly jumps out of a book like an over-eager dog, shouting «Tell me! Tell me!» and I have to figure out why I need to tell it and how/in what context. In some particular cases I can also get subtle messages from my subconscious while dreaming. In a way, it doesn’t feel like it’s me choosing the stories at all, but that the stories, in fact, choose me.

11) In old stories there are often violent elements that are in opposition to the ethics of today. How do you as storyteller solve this? Do you rewrite or do you tell the original version? Or describe your own solution.

Whenever I tell an old story, I never uncritically retell it in the exact same fashion, without understanding why I’d want to tell it that way. To naively assume that any folk tale or legend or creation myth has to be sublime and possess an inherent wisdom that I am too stunted and modern to understand, is not taking my role as a responsible storyteller seriously. We are responsible for the stories we tell, and we need to know what the point of the story is for us, even if it is nothing more than a source of pure entertainment.

An example: The Greek myth of Pandora’s Box. In most versions it goes like this: Pandora, the first woman, is given by the gods to the escaped titans Prometheus and Epimetheus. Epimetheus accepts and also gets to be caretaker of a box that he under no circumstances must open. Pandora, left alone one day, is overwhelmed by her own curiousity, opens the box, and all the evil things of the world, death, disease etc.escape. She manages to close the lid after the initial shock, leaving only one thing – Hope.

When telling this tale, it is of great interest to know that this myth may actually have been tampered with – Pandora means «All gifts» – why then is she portrayed as a negative figure? There is a prevailing theory that Hesiod, the known writer of this myth, actually coloured a positive all-giving goddess with his misogynistic leanings – could it be that the box (or actually jar, in the original) contained all gifts instead of all evils, and that hope was the only gift left, the rest disappearing when opening the box? Impossible to know, but knowing full well that myths that have been written down aren’t necessarily untampered by personal agenda, it is good to do research on aspects that don’t resonate with you, as, in this case, this part of the myth didn’t with me.

Folk tales and legends, though essentially a vessel of wisdom, are also coloured by the cultural and chronological context in which they were written down. This has to be taken into account when retelling it for a new audience. It is not the story in itself that is important, but the message it conveys. Change the vessel to fit the message that resonates with you, and let your intuition be your guide, since intuition speaks in mythic and symbolic terms.

12) What are the similarities and dissimilarities between telling stories for children and grownups?

Adults are grown-up children, and they want to listen in awe and wonder just as much as kids do. They just need a bit more warming-up. I use interactive elements in stories both for children and adults, but when including them for adults I do it more gradually and to a lesser extent, to make them get used to it, and don’t feel embarassed about it.

With adults, I can also to a bigger degree make meta-fictional comments to the story for sake of humour or relief. And of course, the choice of subject matter can vary, with other possible options for adults. But the main similarity is the fact that everyone becomes a kid when listening to a good story. And that’s wonderful.

13) In what extent do you use old stories in its original versions – in comparison to the later variations?

If I want to tell an old story and it has several variations, I usually read all the variations to see the development of the story, what has been added where and by whom and why before I make my own version. See my reply to question 11 for more on this subject.

14) What kind of venues do you prefer?

I prefer small to medium stages where there is a sense of space and expansion, but still a sense of intimacy with the audience.

15) Does a storyteller need to be universal to all kinds of audience and genres, or is it the best to specialize for a certain audience and in a certain genre?

I believe this depends on the storyteller. I don’t think that it is a must to be able to be an all- round teller. Everyone is unique and everyone finds their niche. Some of my specialities are stories that I make myself, based on historical events and figures, based on my personal life, and mixtures between the mythological, the historical and the personal. Some of my performances are much lighter than others, some are much darker.

My prime audience is an adult, relatively educated audience, but I pride myself on being able to work with all types of audiences, and most of my stories, even though the genres might vary, are a combination of the mystical/serious and the light-hearted/humourous.

I think that specialization is something that just happens naturally, in that there are certain types of material you are drawn more to than other types, and certain venues/contexts etc. But it is also good to constantly try to keep yourself on your toes, so that you do not get stuck in a static, predictable way of telling. When all your stories become alike, it’s no longer a treat to listen to you. So it’s probably all about striking a good balance.

16) How do you consider the future of storytelling?

I think storytelling will grow as a phenonemon all throughout the world. And I also think that there will be even greater variety – we have groups on the fringe of storytelling like spoken word poets and rappers, and I also think that we will see new forms of epic poetry appearing as part of the storytelling scene.

17) Is storytelling mainly a tool for education or entertainment?

Both. And I would also add enlightenment.

18) Are you engaging the audience while performing, and if you do – how do you do it?

I do, but it varies depending on the performance. The wonderful Irish storyteller Niall deBurca taught me a terrific but simple trick that I now use quite often – at the start of a story, whenever a name is mentioned, immediately ask the audience: «What was her/his name?» and make them repeat it, often up to three times just to get their juices flowing and make them get used to respond to me.

With children I use a lot of interactivity – examples are simple dance moves, suggestions as to what characters should be called or wear or do, and asking the kids to remember something important that I’ll ask them about later. With both groups, whenever there’s a rhyme or something similar being repeated several times throughout a story, I usually let the audience finish the rhyme or sentence after having heard it once.

Other than that, depending on the story, I use call and response, singing with the audience repeating a refrain, telling the audience to imagine something sensory before we move on with the story, ask the audience to guess at something etc. etc. The possibilities are endless and I have started to use techniques of this kind more and more lately.

19) Which connection do you see between storytelling and other kind of performances of the stage?

I touched upon this as part of the reply to question 5. I might add, however, that there is no clear-cut line between theatre and storytelling. Some theatre pieces feel like storytelling, some storytelling performances feel like a theatrical piece. The main thing about storytelling, is the absence of a written script and a fourth wall. And the fact that it’s narrative, of course. The actual form itself is not that interesting, but the underlying content is. Does it move? Does it convey something important about the human condition? Is it a great laugh? Is it a great wonder? If you’re touched on some level, the form doesn’t matter.

20) What properties must a story have, to be suitable for children and younger peoples?

It should take them seriously and not be afraid to venture into dark and insecure places, as long as there is hope, fairly won, at the end. Stories that purposely shy away from darkness are not relatable to the world that the child lives in and wonders about. Do not be afraid to tackle big questions in a children’s performance. Never speak down to a child, always speak from the heart. They know the difference, much more so than adults.

21) Most people have a turning-point in their professional lives – do you have an experience of that kind that you would like to share?

Yes. Three years ago, in fact. I had just received my first payment of the arts scholarship and had arrived in the Norwegian city of Trondheim, where I was going to partake in a 24 hr- theatre performance with artists from a multitude of fields inspired by Dante’s Divine Comedy, but with an «Immigrant Reading». Part of me felt totally unprepared, in that I actually didn’t know exactly what to do, I just had an inkling of an idea. So one part of me is screaming and kicking and afraid, while the other part, the dominant part, tells me that everything is OK, and that it will all work out.

With only one working day, and part of the night, left (my slot was going to be at 2.30 AM), and no clear framework for the performance, this sense of calm seemed to go against all reason. That morning I went to the room where I was supposed to perform, and I just started walking back and forth, working with whatever images and inspirations that would come to me, and I spent fourteen hours almost non-stop in that room, running around, speaking aloud, laughing at the ideas running through my head like wildfire. It felt like having a wonderful muse leading me on, and it was one of the most exhilarating experiences I have ever had.

The performance was finished in my mind and body just an hour before the audience arrived, and I thought, I truly thought, that it was beautiful. Because I felt like an instrument, not a creator. Since then, I have approached my work with a heightened sense of reverence, gratitude, and giddy expectation. Because I know that there are some great stories out there just waiting to choose me. And they will be even more fantastic than the last one.

22) Do you have any further comments that you´d like to share, it is appreciated.

Thank you for the opportunity to reply to this questionnaire. It has been a learning experience for me as well, making me reflect in more detail than usual on the work I do and my opinions of different aspects of that work. I hope this will be useful to you in some way, and give you my very best wishes.

With hopes for a peaceful world and another story,

1)a) How did you get to know the profession of storytelling?

I drifted naturally into telling stories through jobs in my late teens/early twenties connected to history fairs/viking markets/pedagogical museum work. It wasn’t totally clear to me, however, that it was actually possible to be a professional storyteller until I studied «The Art of Storytelling» at The University College of Oslo – one semester as part of a larger bachelor in «Drama- and Theatre Communication». At that point (the age of 25), I was introduced to the professional scene in Norway.

b) What was your motivation behind choosing this profession?

When it came to choosing a career, I felt like a weathervane , constantly moving in whatever direction the wind would take me. I had an interest in several fields – history, archaeology, linguistics, acting, writing, peace work and film production, which was reflected in my spread-out choice of work and study subjects. At one point, however, it dawned on me that even though all my choices seemed to lack any kind of linear progression, there was one single passion underneath it all: The love of storytelling. Whatever I did, I wanted to convey or shape or remake a story of some sort.

After finishing my theatre studies, I worked two years as film producer. The work proved too taxing and too unrewarding, leading me into a breakdown. When understanding that I had to leave this career path, the path as a professional storyteller suddenly became very obvious. As if I had planned it all along. Choosing to become a storyteller connected me to a source of peace and calm, as if this was truly what I was meant to do. For the first time, I felt truly in sync with my life and the world. For me, becoming a storyteller is a calling and in many ways, a way of combining all my aforementioned interests, even peace work.

I want to, in my own small way, tell stories with the potential to mend and heal, to translate old wisdom into the modern age, and help to change the destructive stories we as a species tell ourselves. The storyteller is the conveyor of the unseen realms, a bridge between imagination and reality. It is a job not to be taken lightly, but with the greatest respect and humility.

c) What are your merits within this profession?

I have told stories for about 16 years, professionally for the last eight years. And for the last three years, I have worked as a full-time performance storyteller. I have created 18 unique performances ranging in length from 20 to 100 minutes, five of which are targeted at children and/or teenagers.

In addition, I have also worked with and performed smaller stand-alone legends, fairy tales and myths not included in this list of performances. I have performed and held workshops and seminars in Scandinavia, continental Europe, the British Isles/Ireland, the Middle East and Central Asia, and have been instrumental in developing multilingual storytelling, both as a method of translation and as a separate art form.

I have also done several years of organisational work:

• a) two years as the director of Norsk Fortellerforum (the National Norwegian Storytelling Association) and five years as a board member, seven years in total
• b) four years as a member of Nordgruppen, a forum for cooperation between storytelling organisations in the Nordic countries Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Finland and Iceland. During this period I was also the national coordinator for Nordic StorySlam, an annual storytelling competition event.
• c) one year as a member of the Steering Group of FEST (Federation for European Storytelling)

In addition I have been involved on different levels with arranging the annual international Norwegian Storytelling Festival since its inception in 2004.

In 2009 I received a 1 yr «Scholarship for Emerging Artists» from the Norwegian Culture Council.

2) Please describe in your own words what storytelling is.

Storytelling is the conveying of the unseen realms, the link between the imaginary and the real, the bridge or channel through which imagination can become real. Storytelling is the most powerful tool, the most important technology mankind has ever known. Wars are justified by stories, and disputes resolved by them. What stories we tell define who we are and how we relate to the world.

The American poet Muriel Rukeyser once said:

«The Universe is not made of atoms, but of stories.»

Nothing could be more true. Some of the heroic myths of old, where the hero has to transgress the borders of society to create a culture shift, prepared the audience for changes to come. We are in an age of change, and again storytelling appears on the scene, not only to recycle the myths of old, but to recreate them and make new ones, stories of the impending and necessary transformation of culture to ensure our continued and interconnected survival on this planet.

3) Please tell about the storytelling-traditions in your own country.

In Norway we have a strong, though extinct ( at least in its original sense ) bardic tradition. Whereas many other pre-monotheistic pantheons are dominated by a thunder god ( Zeus, Perun, Baal Hadad, Indra ), the Norse chief god Odin is the god of war, death and, significantly, poetry and wisdom.

According to legend, Odin regained the wisdom of the world from the giants by drinking it in liquid form and escaping in the shape of an eagle. When pursued through the air, he had to regurgitate it all over the lands of men and gods to lighten his belly and escape capture. These drops of poetic wisdom scattered all over the place, making poets grow up in the most unlikely of places.

In the Norse cultural area, there have been many warrior-poets, bardic fighters singing poems out loud in the heat of battle, creating songs on a whim to please an ally, or to appease a king. These verses or songs were called «kvad». One of our most famous warrior-poets is Egill Skallagrímsson born on Iceland in the 10th Century. There were also bards called skalds working professionally for kings and chieftains to create tale-songs about their exploits and victories for posterity.

In addition to this historical poetry, there has always been a vibrant tale-singing tradition among ordinary people, long storytelling songs with hundreds of verses, often accompanied by dancing in a ring or in a long snake-like shape. This still goes on today in folk dance groups and traditional societies.

As do all countries, we also have a great oral tradition of folk tales and legends. Though most urban areas have no unbroken connection to this oral form of communication, it is still somewhat alive in Northern Norway, among the aboriginal Sami people and in lesser populated regions of the country.

4) How is the situation of storytelling in your home-country?

The modern storytelling renaissance, beginning in the United States in the late 70s, spreading out to Europe in the 80s, reached Norway with full force in the 90s. In 1996 Norway was the first country in Northern Europe to establish «The Art of Storytelling» as a subject of higher study. This practical Oslo-based 6 month-course later got other siblings, most notably a twin in the northern city of Tromsø. Today it is also possible to do a 2 year course in «Oral Storytelling» part-time in Oslo.

Throughout the years, there have been a lot of people graduating from this course, and several of them work with storytelling on some level, whether it is as a full-time professional or part-time, often connected to a school teacher position. Media attention to the concept of storytelling has been slowly and gradually waxing, though storytelling as such is still not officially recognized as a separate art form.

Personally, I notice that when I tell people what I do for a living, there are now many more responding with something along the lines of «Oh, I’ve heard about that!» or «I know someone who do that.» than just a few years ago, when the standard response usually amounted to a blank stare and a «What now?».

The Norwegian Storytelling Festival will celebrate its 10th anniversary next year, and has also helped with professionalising and popularising the art of storytelling for the public. Many storytellers make a living through school tours, and a few others, like myself, focus primarily on performance storytelling for an adult audience.

5) What is the difference between traditional storytelling and modern storytelling?

Modern storytelling, at least in the sense I understand and practice it, has to relate to the performing arts in one way or another. Some traditionalists believe that storytelling should not have any theatrical elements and be very low-key without any flair, believing this to be closer to an original form of expression, and also as a way of differentiating storytelling from theatre.

However, I would claim that there are as many styles of storytelling as there are storytellers, and theatre did anyway evolve from storytelling and bardic tradition. When people speak about preserving traditional storytelling, and that when storytelling is put on a stage and made into a performance it becomes theatre, not story, they are in fact confusing the subjects.

This is not, as it might seem on the surface, a division between traditional and modern practices, but a division between two modes of storytelling that have always been there since we first aquired this mystical technology: Between the bard and the common man. The bard or skald or, in some cases, shaman, puts on a show, creates a ritual, sets a stage, uses performance as a tool. Modern performance storytelling still has this quality, it is not new, merely reinvented.

6) What is the purpose of storytelling?

To give hope. To explain and shape our experiences of the world. To come to terms with what life is offering us. To enable listeners to come in contact with universal truths through the power of metaphor. To connect. To create order and meaning out of apparent chaos. To structure reality. To make ideas real. To change attitudes. To give visions of what is possible. To connect Heaven with Earth.

7) What makes storytelling the most useful?

Neurobiologists say our brains are hard-wired for stories. Story is the de facto best possible way to communicate a message to someone. It can be through film, through literature, through any kind of media, but what makes oral storytelling so particulary effective and fabulous, is the fact that it happens here-and-now and has the potential to connect deeply in the present. In that way, oral storytelling, though with a lesser impact field than blockbuster movies, can be more effective in communicating important messages.

8) What theoretic and practical elements have an impact on development of storytelling as a profession?

Mentoring, education, arenas for experience exchange, the publication of papers, essays, creating a common language further defining modern storytelling for the layman and communicating this language to governing and cultural bodies. Festivals, reviews, and a larger and more self-evident presence in public life.

9) What kind of stories do you read, and what are your sources?

I use a wide scope of sources, from traditional material to historical sources to works on mythology, to even aspects of my own life. Anything can be a source for making a story that is connected to the issues of the present day. News coverage, conspiracy theories, cutting edge science – as a storyteller for the modern age, I believe it is extremely important not to become too mired in the old stories and a puristic interpretation of them. I think it is important to drink in their wisdom, and, like Odin, let it course through your system before you regurgitate it in a new form, fit for modern consumption.

If storytellers become museum pieces, we have failed our mission. We need to channel the old wisdom and give it new clothes, and I do not mean just modernising old fairy tales by adding cars and Ipads, I mean by actually rediscovering the essence of these stories and then resurrect that essence in new forms. We are not only standing on the shoulders of oral reproducers, but also on the shoulders of epic poets.

10) What are your criteria choosing stories and from where?

That there is a theme that resonates with me. Usually it comes intuitively. I see something, I hear something, it could be a biographical book on an historical figure, an image, a piece of music, a memory that keeps nagging me, and then a new story starts growing in my mind. Sometimes a folk tale nearly jumps out of a book like an over-eager dog, shouting «Tell me! Tell me!» and I have to figure out why I need to tell it and how/in what context. In some particular cases I can also get subtle messages from my subconscious while dreaming. In a way, it doesn’t feel like it’s me choosing the stories at all, but that the stories, in fact, choose me.

11) In old stories there are often violent elements that are in opposition to the ethics of today. How do you as storyteller solve this? Do you rewrite or do you tell the original version? Or describe your own solution.

Whenever I tell an old story, I never uncritically retell it in the exact same fashion, without understanding why I’d want to tell it that way. To naively assume that any folk tale or legend or creation myth has to be sublime and possess an inherent wisdom that I am too stunted and modern to understand, is not taking my role as a responsible storyteller seriously. We are responsible for the stories we tell, and we need to know what the point of the story is for us, even if it is nothing more than a source of pure entertainment.

An example: The Greek myth of Pandora’s Box. In most versions it goes like this: Pandora, the first woman, is given by the gods to the escaped titans Prometheus and Epimetheus. Epimetheus accepts and also gets to be caretaker of a box that he under no circumstances must open. Pandora, left alone one day, is overwhelmed by her own curiousity, opens the box, and all the evil things of the world, death, disease etc.escape. She manages to close the lid after the initial shock, leaving only one thing – Hope.

When telling this tale, it is of great interest to know that this myth may actually have been tampered with – Pandora means «All gifts» – why then is she portrayed as a negative figure? There is a prevailing theory that Hesiod, the known writer of this myth, actually coloured a positive all-giving goddess with his misogynistic leanings – could it be that the box (or actually jar, in the original) contained all gifts instead of all evils, and that hope was the only gift left, the rest disappearing when opening the box? Impossible to know, but knowing full well that myths that have been written down aren’t necessarily untampered by personal agenda, it is good to do research on aspects that don’t resonate with you, as, in this case, this part of the myth didn’t with me.

Folk tales and legends, though essentially a vessel of wisdom, are also coloured by the cultural and chronological context in which they were written down. This has to be taken into account when retelling it for a new audience. It is not the story in itself that is important, but the message it conveys. Change the vessel to fit the message that resonates with you, and let your intuition be your guide, since intuition speaks in mythic and symbolic terms.

12) What are the similarities and dissimilarities between telling stories for children and grownups?

Adults are grown-up children, and they want to listen in awe and wonder just as much as kids do. They just need a bit more warming-up. I use interactive elements in stories both for children and adults, but when including them for adults I do it more gradually and to a lesser extent, to make them get used to it, and don’t feel embarassed about it.

With adults, I can also to a bigger degree make meta-fictional comments to the story for sake of humour or relief. And of course, the choice of subject matter can vary, with other possible options for adults. But the main similarity is the fact that everyone becomes a kid when listening to a good story. And that’s wonderful.

13) In what extent do you use old stories in its original versions – in comparison to the later variations?

If I want to tell an old story and it has several variations, I usually read all the variations to see the development of the story, what has been added where and by whom and why before I make my own version. See my reply to question 11 for more on this subject.

14) What kind of venues do you prefer?

I prefer small to medium stages where there is a sense of space and expansion, but still a sense of intimacy with the audience.

15) Does a storyteller need to be universal to all kinds of audience and genres, or is it the best to specialize for a certain audience and in a certain genre?

I believe this depends on the storyteller. I don’t think that it is a must to be able to be an all- round teller. Everyone is unique and everyone finds their niche. Some of my specialities are stories that I make myself, based on historical events and figures, based on my personal life, and mixtures between the mythological, the historical and the personal. Some of my performances are much lighter than others, some are much darker.

My prime audience is an adult, relatively educated audience, but I pride myself on being able to work with all types of audiences, and most of my stories, even though the genres might vary, are a combination of the mystical/serious and the light-hearted/humourous.

I think that specialization is something that just happens naturally, in that there are certain types of material you are drawn more to than other types, and certain venues/contexts etc. But it is also good to constantly try to keep yourself on your toes, so that you do not get stuck in a static, predictable way of telling. When all your stories become alike, it’s no longer a treat to listen to you. So it’s probably all about striking a good balance.

16) How do you consider the future of storytelling?

I think storytelling will grow as a phenonemon all throughout the world. And I also think that there will be even greater variety – we have groups on the fringe of storytelling like spoken word poets and rappers, and I also think that we will see new forms of epic poetry appearing as part of the storytelling scene.

17) Is storytelling mainly a tool for education or entertainment?

Both. And I would also add enlightenment.

18) Are you engaging the audience while performing, and if you do – how do you do it?

I do, but it varies depending on the performance. The wonderful Irish storyteller Niall deBurca taught me a terrific but simple trick that I now use quite often – at the start of a story, whenever a name is mentioned, immediately ask the audience: «What was her/his name?» and make them repeat it, often up to three times just to get their juices flowing and make them get used to respond to me.

With children I use a lot of interactivity – examples are simple dance moves, suggestions as to what characters should be called or wear or do, and asking the kids to remember something important that I’ll ask them about later. With both groups, whenever there’s a rhyme or something similar being repeated several times throughout a story, I usually let the audience finish the rhyme or sentence after having heard it once.

Other than that, depending on the story, I use call and response, singing with the audience repeating a refrain, telling the audience to imagine something sensory before we move on with the story, ask the audience to guess at something etc. etc. The possibilities are endless and I have started to use techniques of this kind more and more lately.

19) Which connection do you see between storytelling and other kind of performances of the stage?

I touched upon this as part of the reply to question 5. I might add, however, that there is no clear-cut line between theatre and storytelling. Some theatre pieces feel like storytelling, some storytelling performances feel like a theatrical piece. The main thing about storytelling, is the absence of a written script and a fourth wall. And the fact that it’s narrative, of course. The actual form itself is not that interesting, but the underlying content is. Does it move? Does it convey something important about the human condition? Is it a great laugh? Is it a great wonder? If you’re touched on some level, the form doesn’t matter.

20) What properties must a story have, to be suitable for children and younger peoples?

It should take them seriously and not be afraid to venture into dark and insecure places, as long as there is hope, fairly won, at the end. Stories that purposely shy away from darkness are not relatable to the world that the child lives in and wonders about. Do not be afraid to tackle big questions in a children’s performance. Never speak down to a child, always speak from the heart. They know the difference, much more so than adults.

21) Most people have a turning-point in their professional lives – do you have an experience of that kind that you would like to share?

Yes. Three years ago, in fact. I had just received my first payment of the arts scholarship and had arrived in the Norwegian city of Trondheim, where I was going to partake in a 24 hr- theatre performance with artists from a multitude of fields inspired by Dante’s Divine Comedy, but with an «Immigrant Reading». Part of me felt totally unprepared, in that I actually didn’t know exactly what to do, I just had an inkling of an idea. So one part of me is screaming and kicking and afraid, while the other part, the dominant part, tells me that everything is OK, and that it will all work out.

With only one working day, and part of the night, left (my slot was going to be at 2.30 AM), and no clear framework for the performance, this sense of calm seemed to go against all reason. That morning I went to the room where I was supposed to perform, and I just started walking back and forth, working with whatever images and inspirations that would come to me, and I spent fourteen hours almost non-stop in that room, running around, speaking aloud, laughing at the ideas running through my head like wildfire. It felt like having a wonderful muse leading me on, and it was one of the most exhilarating experiences I have ever had.

The performance was finished in my mind and body just an hour before the audience arrived, and I thought, I truly thought, that it was beautiful. Because I felt like an instrument, not a creator. Since then, I have approached my work with a heightened sense of reverence, gratitude, and giddy expectation. Because I know that there are some great stories out there just waiting to choose me. And they will be even more fantastic than the last one.

22) Do you have any further comments that you´d like to share, it is appreciated.

Thank you for the opportunity to reply to this questionnaire. It has been a learning experience for me as well, making me reflect in more detail than usual on the work I do and my opinions of different aspects of that work. I hope this will be useful to you in some way, and give you my very best wishes.

With hopes for a peaceful world and another story,