The art of Storytelling

The last leg of the London word festival ran through the doors of St.Leonard's Church, Shoreditch. The word-loving Willy Wonka like organizers had prepared a mingled forum of poetry, performance art and music. Patrons were greeted to the event with an invitation to join 'The Tree of Lost Things', a mystic Neverland web which cascaded from the church ceiling, filled with wistful remembrance of lost objects. Of course, many a new romantic used the web for silent therapy with 'self respect' and 'my happiness' dangling among its branches.

The evening was centered on Ian McMillan's 'Chip Shop' poetry recitation, a clusterfuck of words selected by the public and submitted to Henningham Family Press for spontaneous printing. Words like 'crepuscular', 'spatula' and 'pigeon' were bundled together in the big tombola of Mr. McMillans mind to create a spontaneous poem that surmise the festival. The final product, shown above is available in the form of an original Henningham press print and can be purchased here,

http://www.henninghamfamilypress.co.uk/order.php.

Matthew Robin’s sinister set of creeping story-ballads captured the atmosphere held in the draughty church gables. His ominous piano chords were accompanied by a shadow puppet projection following the adventures of anomalous characters such as the 'mutant moth boy'. Unexpected comedy was found in the wonderful tentative nature of the show with clumsy hands covering the scenes and persistent sound failures. There were times when the show panged of alternative children's theatre, but it was saved by the quality of Robin's vocals. Anyone who has even half smiled at a Tim Burton animation would have appreciated his nonsensical storytelling and archaic imagery. I think a version of 'Oranges and Lemons' sung by some foreboding school children in the pulpit would have suited his set down to the ground. Just imagine the final line resonating through St.Leonard's church, 'I will be rich said the bells of Shoreditch'.

Comedian and animator Terry Saunders allowed us to grow into happy cynics with his homemade film '6 and a half loves' using live voice over. The animated film catalogued the fledgling and failing love lives of three couples. Terry is more one for pub-based realism than Platonian theory, which lead to many a knowing sigh from the audience throughout the screening. His characters don't write sonnets, they drink wine from coffee mugs while waiting for adult free view.

Throughout the evening Dalston based Henningway Family press soldiered on in their makeshift Chip Shop. Instead of oily newspaper parcels, their stall offered on site one-word prints from a stenciled press, letting punters take a printed piece of McMillan’s poem away for just a pound. I went for 'crepuscular', not letting on that I needed to google it’s meaning.

So the evening drew to another inspiring but bemusing close. But to tide me over until next March, I'm planning started my own nostalgic tree on my bedroom ceiling, filled with new and old memories. I give it two weeks before I start drying my undies on it.