socializing vehicles (continued)

[Adam Blatner]

A drama therapist sent this to their listserve---an article about short-story-telling 
night at a speakeasy / tavern? in Washington DC.
       It reminds me of a mixture of playback theatre and karioke?  But it might be 
another vehicle for socializing.
             It's a newspaper article (or on the internet) about this program, goes on for 
a page or two. You may skim it, ignore it, read it. But I send it as another comment on 
that aspect of sociatry that speaks to the question of how people can feel more socially 
integrated.


True Lives, Under a Spotlight: At D.C. Open-Mic Night, 7 Minutes on Stage Offer Meaning 
and Much-Needed Laughs  By Tara Bahrampour
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, February 15, 2009; C01

"What's your favorite Smiths song?" she described asking him. ¶

"The Smiths have sooo many good songs," was the hesitant reply, delivered by Brown in a 
namby-pamby voice. ¶ "Name one." ¶ "Uh. . ." ¶ The audience snickered. ¶ " 'Dancing 
Queen?' " ¶ They roared.

Many people don't like to advertise that they date online. But Suji Brown, a 
self-described "IT wonk" in black-framed glasses, stood under a spotlight in a U Street 
lounge Tuesday night and told a room of 200 strangers about weeding through the 
misspellers, the married men and "the guy who asked me if I had a fat" posterior.

Matt Sherman told of a terrifying ride on a Bangkok motorcycle taxi whose driver sang the 
John Denver song "Country Roads" while delivering him to a sordid nightclub. Meredith 
Maselich admitted that she had enjoyed tormenting her Mormon college roommate with raunchy 
music. The audience, slouched in sofas and lounge chairs in the darkened room, ate it up.

This is SpeakeasyDC, a monthly gathering of storytellers that has become so popular it has 
had to change venues to accommodate the crowds. The stories are auto
biographical, often funny, sometimes painful. And in a city where many feel they must 
erect emotional walls to get ahead, they can be cathartic.

"It's got me to relax a bit about sharing parts of me," said Shaw resident Joseph Price, a 
fresh-faced young man whose repertoire includes an embarrassing story about going home 
with a married woman. "There is something in just saying, 'The devil may care.' "

SpeakeasyDC is modeled after the Moth, a regular gathering of storytellers in New York. It 
has a few rules: The stories have a seven-minute limit and must be true. Details can be 
tweaked for a tighter narrative, but the main facts should have what the organizers call 
an "emotional truth."

Each show is organized around a theme, such as coming of age, cyber life or the kindness 
of strangers. This week's theme was "Mix Tape" -- stories about a single song that made an 
impact. Each storyteller approached the stage accompanied by a loud, prerecorded blast of 
his or her song.

As waiters swooped around the couches with plates of burgers and drinks in plastic cups, 
Brown explained to the crowd what happened to a potential suitor who professed to share 
her love for the Smiths.

"What's your favorite Smiths song?" she described asking him.

"The Smiths have sooo many good songs," was the hesitant reply, delivered by Brown in a 
namby-pamby voice.

"Name one."

"Uh. . ."

The audience snickered.

" 'Dancing Queen?' "

They roared.

SpeakeasyDC started 12 years ago out of the Washington Storytellers20Theatre. The shows 
have been packed recently; organizers can't explain why exactly, but Amy Saidman, the 
show's executive director, had a theory. "I've decided we're the hot dogs of the theater 
scene in D.C. You know, in hard economic times, you eat hot dogs? Well, it might cost $85 
to go to the Warner, but here, for $10 or $15, it's so cheap."

Unlike the Moth, SpeakeasyDC has a coach who helps shape and sharpen the tales. "She works 
on things like telling rather than summarizing, the importance of details and 
opportunities for humor," Saidman said. For those who want to take it further, the 
organization offers classes.

Also, unlike the New York shows, where judges rate the stories and pick a winner, 
SpeakeasyDC is not competitive. "We tried it twice," Saidman said. "It didn't go well. . . 
. We realized it's not New York. People in New York are a lot more used to auditioning, to 
being judged. They have much thicker skin. We realized that D.C. really wasn't that 
environment."

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, many storytellers are government employees or lawyers.

"It rounds out your existence, if you're spending all day every day at a desk staring at a 
computer," said Edwin Kubal, a District lawyer whose three years of storytelling at 
SpeakeasyDC have led to performances at the Capital Fringe Festival and classes at the 
Washington Improv Theater.

For people unused to being onstage, the thought of publicly flaunting their character 
flaws and emotional weaknesses can sound like torture.

"I'd never d
one anything like that before," said Maselich, 32, of Oakton, recalling her first time 
three years ago. "I was scared out of my mind. I was shaking -- you could hear it in my 
voice."

But the laughter relaxed her. "I got tons of applause, and everyone was coming up to me 
telling me how much they liked it. . . . I was hooked after that."

For Maselich, now the show's board chair, and other regulars, it has also created a social 
world. They go see each other in other shows and often go to dinner afterward.

Price, a projects manager for a Web design company, said thinking about his life in terms 
of narratives helps him make sense of it. "I think to have a body of stories gives me the 
feeling that I've had a full life in my brief 26 years," he said. "It kind of justifies my 
existence."

It can even help the lawyers. "I'm an attorney, and I tell stories for a living," said 
Latif Doman, 38, of Fort Washington. After taking a SpeakeasyDC class, he can more easily 
put himself in his client's shoes, he said, and he now adds arresting imagery and details 
to his courtroom presentations.

"I could tell the difference in the jurors as I was telling it," said Doman, a 
long-limbed, imposing figure with a shaved head. "The jury identified with my client. . . 
. It's the focus on detail, because that gives the truth to it."

Regulars say their gatherings counteract the stereotype of Washington as a cultural 
wasteland, a mean city, a town that takes itself too seriously.

"This is
 one of the most genuine cultural gatherings in D.C.," said Jonathan Cohen, 41, a D.C. 
resident who works for Amnesty International. "It's so incredibly supportive. People are 
rooting for you, and that's not the norm in D.C. This is a city where people, if you're in 
the public sphere, will chop you down."

But here, the more embarrassing the stories, the more the crowd cheers.

Maselich noted that storytelling taps an archetypal need. "The act of listening to other 
people's stories is a really powerful experience," she said. "People have come together to 
tell stories since the beginning of time -- for entertainment, for communicating social 
norms, for cautionary reasons."

Not all participants are neophytes, but even professional actors can gain new perspectives 
by doing it. "You get to write your own script, so you get to take people where you want 
to take them," said Kevin Boggs, 45, an actor who lives in Logan Circle and told a story 
Tuesday about his ex-boyfriends dating each other.

And there's no pressure to be a pro. "It's kind of like joining those kickball leagues --  
you don't have to be really good," Boggs said.

In fact, being too polished can work against a storyteller. "Our audience is great, but if 
they get the feeling that it is ingenuine, then they turn on you," said Stephanie 
Garbaldi, who coaches the storytellers and moderated Tuesday's show. "If they don't feel 
you're telling the truth about your life, then they feel you've broken the trust."

You can be a regular without eve
r stepping onto the stage. Ute Mai, 53, of Bethesda comes with her husband just to 
watch -- and to admire the storytellers' courage. "People are just so open to go up there 
and tell these stories," she said, adding that she had never seen such a thing in her 
native Germany.

Most of the performers are in their 20s through 40s, but no one is too old. Sherry 
Geyelin, 84, a former board member of the Washington Storytellers Theatre, has told about 
the time when her children, after years of listening to Geyelin and her husband warn 
against drugs, asked them if they had ever tried any.

It was a rare evening at home for her husband, then-editor of The Washington Post's 
editorial pages, when the country was embroiled in the Vietnam War and Watergate. The 
couple agreed to try marijuana.

"Nobody told us we didn't have to puff on it every time it came around," Geyelin said in a 
recent interview. By the time the phone rang, they were a puddle of giggles. It was Henry 
Kissinger. Her husband muddled through the call, and they did not smoke pot again.

Nor is anyone too young. Brown, 41, of Burke bared her soul Tuesday not only to strangers 
but also to her mother and two daughters.

It must not have looked too scary, because her daughter Meera, 10, summoned the courage to 
be one of the three spontaneous storytellers who go up at the end and tell three-minute, 
uncoached stories.

The spotlight shone in her eyes. She stepped up to the microphone with a big smile.

"You know how you look back at elementary school and say, 'God, I was stupid'? Well, even 
though I'm still in elementary school, fourth grade will always come back to haunt me . . 
. ."  The room dissolved in laughter.

To find out where to watch or participate in SpeakeasyDC, including during a special 
Valentine's weekend event, visit http://www.speakeasydc.org/.

National Storytelling Network | 132 Boone Street | STE 8 | Jonesborough, Tennessee 
37659-1307 | United States