Magic by Sally Jo Bannow

Stories have always been magical to me. I remember my dad reading stories to me every night before bed. My dad specialized in telling long story-jokes to anyone who would listen. He held the listeners’ attention with fun details and voices, always ending with some corny punchline. And now, like him, I’ve spent my whole life telling stories in one way or another. As a child, I wrote plays for kids in school to perform, I constantly listened to music, and lived the stories that those songs told. I imagined I was the subject of the song, and sang it with the intention of conveying the story behind the song. Later, I got friends together, and hung up a sheet to put on a play; some simplified children’s story that I had concocted.

No surprise that I ended up in the theatre as an actor. I fell in love with being part of an ensemble of theatre artists: actors, directors, choreographers, set and costume designers, prop designers, etc. I am in love with the live theatre, and with film. The idea that adults can sit down, just as I did as a child, and be transported by someone else’s journey into a deeper understanding and experience of themselves, and of another life.

The stories we tell in the theatre and on film are magical to me.

I started directing for the theatre. It’s like giving birth! Combining all of the elements of live theatre into a precisely timed live performance with all of its rising and falling of storyline is an astronomical feat.

Then I began writing plays and musicals. In this practice, the work was mostly internal, and allowed my creativity to go wherever the story led. Most of the stories I’d experienced to that point were fictional.

Then a friend introduced me to the artform called “Playback Theatre.” Playback theatre falls under the category of theatre for social justice. In this form, a teller from the audience tells a true moment, or longer story from their lives. The actors and musicians (who are all improvising), then recreate the story exactly as they heard it and perform it for the teller. There are many ‘aha’ moments, as the teller observes their experience in a new and creative way.

The thing that moves me to my core about all of these art forms, is that through the telling of these stories, the audience members reach a connection – an intimacy, and deep level of humanness.

Now, years after my life in entertainment began, I have ‘stumbled’ into the art of oral storytelling. I am in the process of learning to find stories from my own life, to craft and shape them into pieces of verbal art. It feels foreign and familiar at once. It is an art, and it is magical. It has the power to connect people who seemingly have no other connection. It reminds us of our humanity and of our shared experiences and how very much alike we are. It helps us to know each other and to find the empathy and compassion that lies deep within us all. That is a fine magic trick, indeed.

(The image at the top of the post can be found here.)

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