Silence in storytelling

Silence is the ground for storytelling. Words and images echo in silence, rhythms ring, pauses give space, emotions hang in the air. The audiences’ response to a story needs silence, so that the memories and meanings evoked by a story, can resound inside them.

But you don’t often get silence! I have performed alongside: discos; generators; babies crying; camera clicks; squeaky plastic seating; mobile phone conversations; air conditioning; storms …  You learn to cope with these things – by including the sounds within the performance, exuding energy and focus, or by somehow relaxing. And I have often been amazed when audience members have said that they did not hear the extraneous sound at all! But I do often wish that venues would take more care to value, support, and create silence. Because in the end, without silence, it is much harder to go to that magical otherworld place that I want to enter in a performance, and lead the audience toward.

Silence is a strong theme in fairy tales, from the mute princesses, to a girl forced to be silent to save her brothers, to a doubting man struck dumb because he does not believe in magic.

I am forced to be silent at the moment. I have a chest infection and cough, and have totally lost my voice. I have had to cancel several performances, which has been a rare occurrence in nearly 30 years of performing. I have been so grateful to bookers and venues, who have been very kind about it. And I am especially grateful to Xanthe Gresham,  Nell Phoenix, and Richard Neville who have jumped in to help and taken my place. I have noticed in the news several reports of  singers with voice troubles, and wonder if there is some especially horrid bug going round that effects the voice?

But silence is the only thing that will gradually heal my swollen vocal chords.  I do hope it doesn’t take too long.