Showing posts with label Glenda Bonin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Glenda Bonin. Show all posts

Sunday, August 30, 2015

My Storytelling Odyssey

Jana Segal performing at Odyssey Storytelling 
When I first started storytelling, I would try to memorize the whole story – since I was accustomed to memorizing monologues for acting auditions.  Glenda Bonin, my storytelling mentor, kept nudging me to get rid of the script and just tell it.  And there were times when I experienced a glimpse of actual telling – by sheer chance. Like the first time I attempted to tell my pioneer story without reading it. I was still struggling with memorization when I arrived at Bookmans for the performance. The only audience, aside from other storytellers, was a mother and her two children. At some point in the story, my mind went blank. But this little audience was my saving grace. I looked into their eager eyes and told the story just for them.  


Since then I have been working on becoming less nervous and more conversational in my storytelling.  So when Glenda invited me to perform at the Teller of Tales summer gathering, I thought it was a great opportunity to practice just that. I wanted to share something cheerful, so I decided to tell about how my son Josh had made it into the Haidong Gumdo World Championships in Korean sword dance. I brainstormed all the incidents that led up to this accomplishment - like how he was famous for dancing with his French horn in the bleachers at football games or for doing his own version of hip hop in the high school halls during lunch. I outlined (on file cards) all of his creative projects that may have contributed to his Israeli-inspired sword dance – including creating claymation Canaanite characters.  I composed my opening line, “Josh has always marched to the beat of his own drum – especially when he was in the Catalina Magnet High School marching band.”

Joshua Segal at Haidong Gumdo World Championships
As an experiment I went over the list again and again, but purposely didn’t practice it out loud. I wanted to see if it would be more conversational if I just spoke off the top of my head.  I should have at least practiced the opening line because when I got on stage I groped around for it. I eventually warmed up. (I always enjoy performing in front of an audience.) Somewhere along the way, I got side-tracked from my outline, and just started blabbing. I admitted how frustrated I was that my smart, creative son - who was so full of promise - was given mind-numbing drugs right before his trip to Korea.  Caught up in this train of thought, I forgot the big payoff – describing how he honored his Jewish heritage by dancing to Hava Nagila and two other Jewish folk songs. It was so anticlimactic. I wanted to hop back on stage and fix it.  And I would have too, if the MC (Glenda) had let me.

Knowing how frustrated I was, Glenda called the next morning to offer sympathy and advice. She said that it was really brave when I shared my true feelings and that the audience had really connected to it. She suggested that next time I concentrate more on my own feelings and how I was proud of Joshua. She said the audience will really relate to it and that it will make Joshua proud, too.
A few days later Odyssey Storytelling sent out a call for stories about “Detours.” It was an opportunity to put Glenda’s advice into action! Odyssey would give me a chance to practice it twice – at the rehearsal and at the performance. At the rehearsal, the other tellers and facilitators would also give valuable feedback for shaping my story.  This time I was going to make sure to include how proud I was of Josh and fully describe his experience at the sword dance competition.

Characters from Josh (Killetz) Segal's film, "Bronze"  
And I did manage to include it. But I was sort of… off, sort of stiff. One of the storytellers described my performance as episodic – like reciting a list of episodes. He said that I was more engaging when I told the group about Josh afterwards. I had described how Josh focused on himself when he danced, looking down at the floor. That guy said that he could tell so much more about Josh by how I acted out that little bit. The other tellers wanted to see more of me in it - more of how I felt about what happened.  On the bus ride home, I jotted down their great advice.

After that rehearsal, I realized that I needed some way into the story that would propel me to the end. I had planned on practicing some more on the day of the performance – holding a hair brush like a microphone (as they recommended at Odyssey).  But that morning Josh messaged me about his actors backing out on him. He had been rushing to finish his claymation for a screening the next day at The Loft Cinema’s First Friday Shorts. I spent the entire day contacting actors for him.

That became the angle I was looking for. I would start with how I had spent the day helping Josh with his claymation project. I would just share it with the audience like I would a friend. Instead of a last minute (panicked) rehearsal while I dressed, I relaxed with a leisurely shower.  While we waited for the bus, I asked my boyfriend if I could tell him about Josh’s experience. When I got stuck on a word, I stopped to figure it out, then went back to telling the story. A woman at the bus stop was eavesdropping. She looked shocked when I messed up and said, “Shoot! Can I start again?”

Odyssey Storytelling at the Screening Room
My performance wasn’t perfect. I groped for a few words. I have no idea what my free hand was doing. But I really enjoyed sharing Josh’s story with the audience and they seemed to be with me. The thing I am most proud of is that I didn’t beat myself up for my mistakes. I realized it was all a part of the process. In the lobby before the show, I told a friend that I had no idea how this was going to turn out. “It is what it is.” I achieved what I was working on - being less nervous and more conversational. I think it was because I believed in the process.

The next day, I waited nervously as Josh watched a recording of the performance.  He looked thoughtful for a moment, then asked if he could post it on his Facebook page.

Josh was proud. 

Sunday, September 11, 2011

My Storytelling Journey


Jana Segal

I started attending Tucson's Teller of Tale's storytelling meetings three years ago. As a part of each meeting we would go around the room introducing ourselves. Every time I would say, “I'm here to enjoy the stories and hopefully get inspired to do a story some day.” This went on for years, until one day... they stopped having introductions.

It had been so long since I had been in a play - since before the kids were born. But I finally got that ol' itch to perform again. So when master storyteller Glenda Bonin offered a storytelling workshop, I dug out my one-woman “storytelling” musical, Magic Shoes, polished it up, and e-mailed it to her. Knowing my theater background, Glenda cautioned me about trying to act. Storytellers TELL their stories off the top of their heads. Enchanted by the story, she agreed to let me read (and sing) it at the storytelling workshop anyway. With all the carefully crafted description, we discovered that it was really more of a one-woman musical than a storytelling piece. I watched in awe as the other students actually told their stories – hoping to become inspired to do it too. Someday.

Someday came sooner than I expected when Glenda asked me if I wanted to work on a story for the professional studio recording of TOT members. While listening to other members practice, I finally got inspired! I remembered Sharlot Hall's 1880's Christmas story, “The Fruit of the Yucca Tree” that I had adapted for my short chick Western, Desert Angel. I was excited about revisiting that touching story. So I condensed it and revised it and started memorizing it (which I wasn't supposed to do) and got cold feet. I told Glenda I wouldn't be able to do it. It had been so long since I had even memorized a monologue.

Glenda gently encouraged me. She suggested that I read the story for the recording. And I sure hated to miss this opportunity to be recorded on a CD with professional storytellers! She made it so easy for me. I practiced it on my own. Then she timed my story as I read it over the phone. She said it was a lovey piece. I wasn't sure if I was ready, but thanks to Glenda's support and incredible patience, I got through it. I am proud to be on a professional storytellers' CD.

Since I was already practiced up, I volunteered to read the story for the Tombstone historians and enthusiasts at the Tombstone Territory Rendezvous. Unfortunately, some of us went dancing the night before and I must have been shouting over the music, because the next morning my voice was horse and barely audible. Afraid that no one would be able to hear me, I tried to arrange for a microphone - with no luck. When I got up to the podium, I found that I couldn't see the words on the page. I had to wear my new glasses. (Which also made me feel old since last time I was on stage I didn't need glasses.) A friend in the front row said that I looked nervous for a moment as I adjusted my glasses. The next thing I knew, it was over and the audience was applauding. Historian Casey Teffertiller graciously commented that I had a gift!

After that Glenda said it was time for me to do actual storytelling – not a reading, not a memorized monologue. She said I knew my story and I should just “tell it” at the annual TOT Christmas party. At Glenda's suggestion, I made an outline and tried to visualize the story. Lounging on our host's sofa, my fellow storytellers took turns telling their favorite Christmas stories. My story would fit in perfectly! I opted for more bean dip instead.



I discovered that I knew it better than I thought when the dialogue kept running through my head. So, after recovering from the shame of not performing, I agreed to do the storytelling performance to promote the Teller of Tales CD at Bookmans. I decided that it was alright to memorize the dialogue because of the distinct old timey dialect. It shouldn't be that hard because it was the same dialogue I knew from my short film. And I worked at paraphrasing the rest. I wasn't at all sure that I was ready for this. I was scared to death that I would forget a line and lose my place. But with my son Vlad there for support, I ran the story through in my head on the bus ride to Bookmans. Vlad helped me on with my 1880's apron and I went for it. There were sections I forgot, but in the grand tradition of theater, I kept going. And then it happened. I started telling it to the two little kids in the audience. (Vlad tells me the kids laughed.) I know their mom hung on every word! Then, just like that, it was over. Glenda asked if I wanted to do it again. Heck, no! I just got through it!