The First Narrative Arts Club

Last night I attended the grand opening of the Narrative Arts Club in the Central hotel here in Dublin. The founder of the club, a somewhat nervous northern doctor, took on the role of MC for the night. With great gusto he informed us that this was indeed the first club of its kind in the whole world. We dropped our jaws at this earth-shaking revelation and tried to look suitably impressed. Alas, attendence was poor, and I think there were only about 7 of us there, not including the performers. My sister, her boyfreind and I made up almost half of the audience, so we endevoured to do twice the work of normal spectators, and notched up the volume of our laughter and applause accordingly. Not that any over-the-top thigh slapping was neccessary, with all of the participants performing admirably on the night.

While other storytelling clubs such as the Yarnspinners focus mainly on a more traditional Irish style of storytelling, the intention of the narrative arts club is to introduce a slightly more modern feel to the whole thing. There were four acts on the night, and two of them were performing for the first time. The MC did a couple of his own storys, followed by a short bearded guy who told us an at first believable but increasingly absurd tale of growing up on his father's tour bus. This was followed by an hilarious Jewish woman from London and then a great long improvisation on the theme of Irishness and the grand art of bullshitting from a Dublin man. it was made clear that anybody who felt the urge could come up and tell a story (none of the seven of us put our hands up), and surely if they manage to get a few more people to come along next time it'll be a great opportunity for any would be tall tale tellers to perform in front of an intimate but enthusiastic audience. A date has not been set for the next gathering, but I have been told it will be in December. Keep your eyes peeled.