Areas of Unrest

22 April 2001 - In Stitches

QOTD: "The man of upright soul and humour placid / needs no blunt instrument nor prussic acid." - Dorothy L. Sayers

Reading: Steven Connor, Dumbstruck: A Cultural History of Ventriloquism

Listening to: Cats & Jammers, Too Close For Comfort

My horoscope for today (from the L.A. Times) said "You could be accused of being in the playground of the occult." That wasn't at all accurate, but it conjures up a marvelous image. Monkey bars with actual winged monkeys. A sliding pond ending in a pool of blood. Swings over a pit of fire. There's probably a good Buffy episode lurking there.

I should also explain that the term "sliding pond" is a New York-ism for what other people call a slide. According to William Safire, the likely origin is the Dutch word "bahn," meaning "track." That sounds plausible enough to me.

The other clipping I've saved to write about is from the sports section and concerns a new play at the Lyric Stage Company in Boston. They're doing a musical version of "The Curse of the Bambino." Apparently it features bits like Babe Ruth singing "With me goes that gaiter that held up your Sox and will leave wrinkles that you'll never ever steam" to Harry Frazee. Unfortunately, it's only running through mid-May, so I won't be able to get to Boston to see it. (Note to self: add Yankee Stadium to devil's playground, particularly as the Red Sox lost to the Source of All Evil in the Universe today.)

Anyway, this has been a very hectic weekend. The Southern California Story Swapping Festival was yesterday in Glendale. It's always a lot of fun and it was particularly nice this year not to have to work at it. The small group I was in for the morning swap was excellent. We ended up with a group of good tellers who knew one another already. That meant that we felt freer to play around. Lynn asked if we should have a theme and Rob sang the opening line of "Oklahoma" in response. I said that I have a theory that you can make any story fit any theme. So we decided that we'd have "sweeping plains" as a theme. It was quite amusing as people worked that phrase into all sorts of stories.

The two workshops I went to were Harlynne's on "Organizing for the Professional Storyteller" and Nick's on "Stories and Histories." Nick had a particularly good list of resources. In between workshops, we had lunch. I'd heard about Badger's reputation as a chef, but hadn't eaten his cooking before. He had a great variety of food - all sorts of salads (including insalata caprese, which is one of my very favorite things to eat) and vegetarian paella, plus chicken with garlic sauce for the meat eaters. And, of course, the ultimate seasoning is conversation with people who I don't see often enough.

The one-minute stories went well, too, without anybody going seriously over time. I told a Thurber fable, which went over well. That was followed by the group reports, which are tedious but necessary. Finally, it was time for the concert. I have to admit that I didn't really hear the first few stories, because it's hard to listen well before I perform. I was representing Long Beach and told "Thank You, Miss Tammy." There is nothing quite like telling to an audience of other storytellers. They're so responsive that it's easy to relax and have fun. Of the other tellers, the one who made the greatest impression on me was Asha's Baba, who was representing the Griot Workshop. I knew the story he told, so it was interesting to see how he used it.

Overall, it was a very enjoyable festival. I was tired when I came home and contemplated a nap, but I was afraid I would sleep too long. And I wanted to watch Buffy and Angel, which were delayed from Tuesday because of a baseball game. The Buffy episode was particularly good, in my opinion. Angel was a bit silly, though I do admit that I liked the idea of a vampire pyramid scheme.

Today wasn't much more restful. I ran a few errands in the morning, then picked up Penny and drove to the Skirball Cultural Center. I'd been planning to see the Judy Chicago exhibit there since it opened in January, but hadn't gotten around to it. It's closing next weekend and I have plans for both Saturday and Sunday already, so this was my last chance. The exhibit is called "Resolutions: Stitches in Time" and consists of 20 pieces, all featuring at least some needlework. They're designed around familiar proverbs, organized by broad themes, such as Responsibility and Hope. We joined a docent tour, which helped a lot in appreciating the work, which is simply superb. You have to look closely at several of the pieces to see where the painting ends and the stitching begins. My favorite piece was "Home Sweet Home," which has all sorts of homes surrounding a globe. There's everything from a condo complex to an igloo, from a log cabin to a camper, all of them very finely stitched. The most dramatic piece is "It's always darkest before the dawn." One half is the dark side, with pollution and war, painted mostly in grays with little other color. The other half is the dawn, with a mixture of brightly painted people and incredibly detailed stitchery. The needlework on all of the pieces is very high quaility and I liked it that the needleworkers were credited. The exhibit also included photos of all the needleworkers, a selection of textiles from the Skirball's permanent collection, a video about Judy Chicago (which we were too tired to watch), preliminary sketches for several of the works, and a section explaining the techniques, with small samples and commentary by the needleworkers. It was a very impressive exhibit and well worth seeing.

Note to self: stick cross-stitch in briefcase for trip this week.