Interview with a Rock and Roll Storyteller

Following up on my earlier review of "Dizzy Miss Lizzy's Roadside Revue presents Finn McCool," I'm sharing an interview with one of the company's founders, Debra Buonaccorsi. First, here's a description of how D.M.L.R.R. describes itself:

Dizzy Miss Lizzie’s Roadside Revue is theatre and vaudeville. It’s rock and roll, bluegrass and Americana. It’s the spirit of Woody Guthrie and the dustbowl wrapped up in a gyspy punk. The spirit of the vagabond and the rebel. They are the voice of human kind’s savage soul. It’s pure storytelling with bare hands and authentic voices. Storytelling cranked up good and loud through a Telecaster and a Marshall amp.

DMLRR was founded in Washington DC by veteran actor/musicians Debra Buonaccorsi and Steve McWilliams. Led by their common love for theatre, rock and roll, and the traditions of American music and storytelling, they sought to bridge the gap between a night at the theatre and a rock concert.

Pictured: Debra Buonaccorsi (foreground) and Steve McWilliams (R) in "Dizzy Miss Lizzy's Roadside Revue presents Finn McCool" at the Capital Fringe Festival, July 22, 2010. Photo copyright 2010 by Paul Gillis Photography; used by permission.

How did you first hear about Fionn mac Cumhaill? And what was the inspiration to bring his origin story to life with a rock and roll show?

It was an idea that Steve and I had been tossing around for a while- we'd never nailed it down to one particular Irish legend. I was into all things Irish in high school- literature, music, culture, Bono etc… and my sister, upon returning from a trip to Ireland, brought me a book called Gods and Fighting Men, which was a book of Irish Mythology compiled by Lady Gregory (a good friend of William Butler Yeats). The stories were odd and funny, as mythology usually is, but they stuck with me. When my good friend Laura Keena, the actress who played the Druidess Bodhmal in the show, brought Finn McCool up as a possible subject for a DMLRR show, I was instantly inspired. Laura’s parents have this amazing wood carving that they brought back from their honeymoon in Ireland, of the Finn McCool legend. It has the faces of Finn and Finneces carved out, there’s a salmon in there somewhere. So, the Laura and I set off to googling Finn McCool, and called Steve. Being of Irish descent and having spent time in Ireland, Steve was familiar with Finn and loved the idea.

Rock and roll is an essential part of the DMLRR aesthetic. There is something so “everyman” about rock music. It’s unpretentious, unadorned, high energy, it’s visceral and cuts to the chase. That’s why we feel it suits us and our storytelling. The extra added bonus of Irish legend and rock music is that there was so much inspiration in Irish music and Irish rock music. The Irish have been telling great stories through music for centuries- so we thought it was a perfect marriage.

Did you consciously view this show as storytelling, as opposed to a rock opera, or a musical, or a live concept album?

We hate to think of ourselves as musical theatre. We do have the concept album in mind when we’re writing. We’d like all of our music to be able to stand alone as a concept album, without a script, in the tradition of The Who’s Tommy or Pink Floyd’s The Wall. We do think of ourselves as storytellers. It gives us license to have fun and play and interact with the audience; it frees us from the confines of “theatre.”

Were you worried about the audiences knowledge of this story (or lack thereof)?

Maybe we should have been more worried. There was a mention in a review about “barely decipherable Irish names.” That’s never stopped people from understanding Chekhov, and those are barely decipherable Russian names. Most of the negative comments about the show have been about the confusing story and names. I thought it was pretty simple stuff. We’re thinking in the re-write that we would add a story song to get all of the necessary exposition and background out. We’re also thinking of using multi-media “cave painting” -esque drawings to assist in that area.

What does the rock and roll revue format give you artistically that traditional musical theatre doesn't?

Both Steve and I have spent a lot of time in the musical theatre world and we both have grown dissatisfied with its limitations and conventions and we question the cultural relevance of musical theatre as an art form. We started out trying to tap into the traditions of vaudeville and burlesque—“low” forms of entertainment and we’re both rock and rollers—also considered a “low” form—in fact, I recently heard rock and rock described as a “derivative” form of music. Which I had to laugh at: what isn’t derivative? We’re all walking derivatives. Anyway, as I said earlier, the rock and roll revue format gives us freedom to have fun and be loose. There’s so much energy and immediacy in a rock show. Someone once said after seeing one of our shows, that we weren’t acting like we were having fun: we WERE having fun. Steve and I call Dizzy Miss Lizzie’s Roadside Revue our playground. We simply invite others to come and play with us on our playground. You can play with us, or if you don’t like our games, you can take your ball and go home.

If you live in or near the Washington DC area, you can see the show again in 2011: DMLRR has recently completed a Kickstarter fundraising campaign to self-produce "Finn McCool" in March at the Woolly Mammoth.

Shout Out: Dizzy Miss Lizzy's Roadside Revue - Finn McCool

As an out-of-towner at the Capital Fringe Festival in Washington DC this past July, I had minimal information to go on in selecting which of the 137 productions to see. I did what research I could, visiting performer's websites, paying attention to local reviews... but with limited time and money, I mainly chose based on content: what was the show about? When I discovered, on the Fringe web site, that there would be a "post-apocalyptic, raucous, rock and roll, retelling of the Irish legend: Finn Mc Cool" by a group called Dizzy Miss Lizzy's Roadside Revue, I made time in my schedule.



Now, as a storyteller, I'd certainly heard of Fionn mac Cumhaill (my Celtic storytelling colleagues would never forgive me if I didn't use the Gaelic spelling). Over the years, I had heard a tale here or there of this Irish warrior-king of the Fianna, but I'd never read or heard Finn's origin story (And, truth be told, hearing one too many versions of the tall tale where Finn meets Cuchulainn did not inspire me to seek it out). So now here, I hoped, in DC, I'd get to hear it... gathered in the darkness with strangers to hear a story.

Only we weren't gathered in the dark. We were in a portable tent (a good omen for storytelling) set up as a temporary venue constructed for the duration of the Fringe, with a massive soundsystem (so it could double as the party spot) and a roof to keep the summer thundershowers off the outdoor thrust stage (seating on three sides). Though not air-conditioned (and in DC in July, that fact made it into every review of each show that played there), the venue was conveniently located next to the Fringe bar.

The stacks of amps, full drum kit, microphones, and numerous electric guitars on the stage made me realize this was not going to be your average storytelling set. The programs and postcards for the show set up the frame that the legend of Finn McCool would be presented as a rock and roll revue with six bands on the bill (With just 8 performers in the show, the "bands" were created with costume changes and sometimes switching up instruments).

And so, in music and song, we were treated to Finn's origin story: how his father, leader of the Fianna warriors, was killed by Goll Mac Morna; how his mother gave him up to be raised in secret by the druidess Bodhmall and the warrior woman Liath Luachra; and how Finn obtains the Salmon of Wisdom during his service to the poet and teacher Finneces, which enables him to claim his place as leader of the Fianna and defeat Goll.

Plot points were kept to a minimum to let the music do the heavy lifting of the show: and it worked. The music ranged from ballads (both acoustic and power) to art rock to stadium rock to blues... the troupe used a wide musical palette to vary the emotions through the arc of the story, and the audience cheered every time they recognized a trope (e.g. guitar solos, power duets, drinking song choruses). I was also impressed by the quality of the performers (though the show had a thrown-together, held-together-with-duct-tape thrift-store aesthetic, everyone in it, from the costumer to the composer to the performers had bona fide professional theatre chops). The singers--most with musical theatre backgrounds and many recognized by local critics and peers with theater awards--really delivered, as the variety of songs explored a vast emotional range.


Pictured: Audience and Felicia Curry, Matthew Schleigh (as Finn), and Debra Buonaccorsi. Photo copyright 2010 by Paul Gillis Photography; used by permission

This show called to mind ancient traditions of epic storytelling, where the community gathered to listen to stories of heroes, and achieve an altered state of consciousness. At the Fringe, our consciousness was being altered not only by our willingngess to engage with the drama, but the soaring melodies and the volume of the music, but by the venue's heat, humidity, and proximity to the performers (no one was farther than 15 feet from the stage). The availability of alcohol helped, too.

Furthermore, the posturing and tropes of rock and roll passed for modern day versions of the ritual required for the sharing of such epics. So, while in an oral culture, everyone in the audience would know the story (e.g. the Ramayana) , this performance gave the audience a story in a style everyone knew, though many weren't familiar with the characters or plot.

The creators of the show made sure that before and after each song, characters explained who they were, what they wanted, and where they were going. The extra exposition here was necessary for an audience unfamiliar with this epic. Some reviewers complained that the exposition muddied the dramatic arc, but I found it was not only necessary to get the story out, but actually a clever way to continue to build the trance state you want in an epic storytelling session (My own theory: by giving the logical brain narrative, we're compelled to engage more--to find out what happens next-- which allows us to continue in the performance environment towards a trance state).

Me? I’m predisposed to enjoying epic narration (my list of most enjoyable theatrical experiences include narration heavy shows like lookingglass theatre’s Argonautika and Metamorphoses, and Mabou Mines’ Peter and Wendy… and to which, I’m adding this production), so my enthusiasm for this show might differ from the typical DC theatregoer, but all in all... I found it a thoroughly delightful way to engage with an ancient myth, and in terms of artistic craft, an inventive and masterfully crafted performance experience.

If you're not in the DC area (and won't get a chance to see future productions of Finn McCool), you can get a mere taste of it: Check out this Flickr slide show with Paul Gillis' photos (link) while you play music from the show via DMLRR's page on Myspace. (The versions there are clean, but nowhere near as thrilling as hearing them performed live by sweaty rock and rollers a stone's throw from you!)

Coming up soon: an interview with one of the show's creators, Debra Buonaccorsi

Notes from the 2009 Going Deep Storytelling Retreat

Blogger Hope Baugh of Indiana, over at her Indy Theatre Blog, gives us a report from the 2009 Going Deep: The Long Traditional Storytelling Retreat. (She did the same with last year's event, as well).

Going Deep not only treads new ground in the storytelling circuit (by focusing on a niche market of epic stories, and setting up the logistics of the event accordingly, i.e., making it a retreat rather than a series of one-off evening concerts).

Hope has posted her reflections on the three stories presented during the course of the retreat:

• Liz Warren's telling of "The Story of the Grail;"
• Marilyn Omifunke Torres telling “The Paths of Osun: The West African Yoruba Epic Journey of the Goddess in Heaven and on Earth;"
• David Novak's performance of "Gilgamesh."

I especially appreciate her careful notes on the workshops that followed each performance-- they give a more rounded context to the storytelling event and allow us a glimpse into the artistic process for each performer, as well as a sense of how a retreat differs from a standard festival.

I should also point out that storyteller Priscilla Howe, one of the co-founders of the retreat, has posted her reflections of this year's event over on her blog.

And Sean Buvala of Storyteller.net has an .mp3 interview with retreat founders Priscilla Howe and Liz Warren over at the Storyteller.net Amphitheater (from 2006?).

Folk Theatre in Kanchipuram

Today our tour took us to Kanchipuram, a two hour drive from Chennai, so we could learn about a form of street theatre known as Kattaikuttu, combining dance, song, costume, and spectacle to bring to life episodes of the Mahabharata at a rural school dedicated to the art form.

This was quite fun as we got to hear a condensed version of the Mahabharata in English, discover the cultural context in which his theatre form takes place, learned a few dance steps under the tutelage of the master artist P. Rajagopal with help from his teenage students, sing in Tamil, eat a home cooked South Indian meal, and get a chance to watch the students show us various entrances.

What we're learning is clearly a theatre form-- but a) we came to India to hear stories, and we have to hear the Mahabharata in Tamil through song and dance, we will, and b) the school founder, Hanne M. de Bruin, is an academic, and knows how to spin the theory of performance so that she can claim (and rightly so) that these forms of storytelling and intimately connected to the rhythm, melody, and drama... take them away and these stories don't work--- and, this is an oral tradition we're experiencing (there's no corps of writing that the work springs from).

So... today, storytelling with a harmonium, two drums, a mukavinai (a small oboe-like instrument) and two sets of hand cymbals (talam), wooden swords, choreography, improvisation, and song. We return to the school tomorrow for another half day of workshops.

Photos and Youtube links later. This internet cafe suffers from intermittent power cuts so I'm rushing this.

Learn more here: Link

The Hindu profile of the school founder: Link

Good Things

Along with breaking the eggs, a good omelet needs some seasoning. So, to cleanse the palate, here's a list of some recent things that made me happy:

1. Just received two mint copies of Bil Lepp's story collections in the mail. I didn't even know Bil Lepp had published his stories. To my surprise, both books were autographed copies, and what's more, I didn't pay a dime for them. (Twenty-five bucks is what the market will bear right now on eBay. Not sure if that reflects acutal demand or the dire economic circumstances of West Virginia book sellers). I love how the Web enables peer-to-peer book swapping.

2. Listening with my son to an Anansi story, "Leopard's Birthday Bop" told by Ramona King

3. Discovering a delightful "new" storyteller on YouTube. I've got to hand it to Sister Unity, she's got the YouTube magic going on. Traditional tales in a nontraditional format. I love it.

4. Wiretap on the CBC (this is only tangentially related to storytelling, but I particularly enjoyed Jonathan Goldstein's recent fractured retellings of David and Goliath, and David and Bathsheba).

5. The Odyssey. Homer's The Odyssey.

Recently Cathryn Fairlee hosted an all-day telling of the Odyssey. It took seven hours, nine storytellers, and a whole lot of food to get through it-- okay, four hours for the story, and three more for the food.

Inspired by the gatherings of storytelling guilds in Canada who annually perform some epic work, such as the Canterbury Tales or the Kalevala, Cathryn has been hosting similar gatherings in California for the past three years. The first year, The Canterbury Tales, the next was The Mabigonian, and the next The Thousand Nights and One Night. But those days necessarily featured selections from the larger works. This year, she organized the tellers to get through the whole thing.

Illness took a few tellers out of the lineup (12 tellers learned a part of the story, but only nine made it that day). Stormy weather kept some of the audience away.

But what a treat... to take a day to just listen to stories. And to listen to a story that our culture knows by reference, but not by heart. Out of the twenty or so gathered to listen (and most of them storytellers), only half had ever read the Odyssey.

We're hoping Cathryn pitches a workshop to NSN for the 2009 Conference on how she organizes this. Basically, she sent out a call for local storytellers, picked a date, and divided up the books of the Odyssey. Each of the nine tellers told us the story, in their own style. The repetition of motifs and phrases, as well as the driving narrative, stitched the tellings together.

The day was not designed to be a polished performance. It was a private event, and intended as professional development for tellers. A chance for tellers to try out some epic storytelling in front of an interested and supportive audience (and they will repeat their part again in the Fall at a second hosted gathering).

And we were all very proud of ourselves for getting to hear the Odyssey in a single day.