Every Third Friday at Space 55, there is a show. This show has no set, no lines to memorize, no character interaction on stage. Arguably, there are no actors. But it draws quite an audience.
The show is Storyline, which features individual storytellers who take to the stage to tell stories from their own lives. Who’s in the show changes every month, but they’re usually people from the community — maybe comedians, maybe artists, maybe others.
The phrase “they’re people just like you and me!” makes me want to throw bowling balls at the wall in frustration. (They wouldn’t do much damage. I’m really very weak.) But thematically, that wretched phrase holds true in terms of Storyline. These are not outrageous stories from the mouths of those who have seen and done it all. They’re much simpler.
They’re stories of getting locked out of the house and taking an adventure through the neighborhood, of the first time doing comedy on stage and the memories that day evoked, of dating someone who eventually admits to being part of the fetish community (and proceeds to wear a Latex suit to dinner as a surprise). They’re stories of losing best friends, changing lives and getting married — despite agreeing you never would.
These stories were, you may have guessed, the exact ones I heard on Friday at this month’s Storyline. The performers: Joseph Redwood-Martinez, Jules Hyde, Marnee Burrus, Hattie Hayes, Nate Romero and Storyline producer Dan Hull. The theme: Don Quixote.
For those who may not be aware, “Don Quixote” is a book by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, whose titular main character sets out on a mission to bring back chivalry after losing his sanity. Each of Friday’s stories was inspired, in one way or another, by “Don Quixote.”
So we’ve all been in a situation where we’re sitting at lunch with someone, and they’re telling a story, and it just goes on and on. I’ll willingly admit to being on the delivery end of that process.
Storyline isn’t like that. There’s no pressure to commit to a conversation or need to fill space. You don’t ask yourself why the story hasn’t ended yet so that you can tell your own story, or maybe just escape to get back to work.
Storyline is a space that reminds us that our stories are important — that sharing our experiences is vital, and necessary, to make us laugh or ache together. Storytelling (and story-listening) increase our empathy and compassion. They give us the ability to walk a mile through the neighborhood, with a quick detour to help your elderly neighbor pick pomegranates, in someone else’s shoes.
Storyline also reminds us that our stories are important. I think, sometimes, we reinforce the idea that talking about ourselves is self-indulgent, that we need to minimize ourselves and focus on others. By bringing listeners the everyday stories of those around us, Storyline lets us see ourselves reflected in those stories.
The show is totally absorbing. Some of the performers were more casual, while others were clearly rehearsed. There were those who seemed completely at ease. Others appeared a little more nervous.
But the purpose of Storyline is not for each story to be perfectly rehearsed. It’s not to keep from stuttering or talking a little fast. What matters is that the audience is left with some sort of impression. It doesn’t have to be a big moral or distinct meaning — just a tone, a feeling, that you’re walking away with some new layer on your life.
Friday night’s stories did that to me. I came away from Storyline with something new and intangible in my heart. I can’t say much more than that, because to review Storyline as if it were a traditional theater show would be robbing it of what makes it unique. I can only say that the stories you’ll hear are valuable, and human, and important.
Next month’s Storyline will be themed “Waiting to Exhale.” The show will be on Friday, March 20 at 10:30 p.m., at Space 55, near the intersection of Pierce and Seventh streets. Tickets are $5 at the door.
Editor’s Note: Performer Hattie Jean Hayes is a former Downtown Devil contributing reporter. She did not contribute to the reporting or editing of this story.
Contact the columnist at molly.bilker@asu.edu
