The author, teacher and performer, Ben Haggarty, visited Charterhouse on Tuesday 4 to the Friday 7 March to perform to the School staff and pupils and run workshops for pupils studying English.
‘The Grateful and the Dead’ Storytelling: a dead form?
![]()
Review by Carina Harford (Year 12):
When was the last time you turned on the radio and were completely captivated by a voice, by a story, a style of delivery? Oration in itself is no longer highly valued in our society - do David Cameron’s speeches stir you in the way Winston Churchill’s call to ‘fight on the beaches’ did for the Britons of the past? In an incredibly visual world, of pictorial storytelling, of reality television and of bloated ‘production’ values, Ben Haggarty stands apart.
He stood alone on a makeshift stage, his only prop a wooden stool. He was dressed ever so slightly like a magician, and held a similar air of command of the mysterious. Surrounded by a semi-circular audience, he began.
And from this point onwards, he completely has you. You are held by his skillful voice, his joyfully confident miming, his ability to drop and pick up narratives, all while deconstructing your preconceived notions of what a ‘performance’ is.
Not for one second are you allowed to drift into your own consciousness, like you often do in a lecture or an extensive sermon. You do not sit, questioning why you are here: it is self-evident. You are captivated. No one was looking around; no one was tempted to distraction: every face, half bathed in the beam of the spotlight, stared straight at Haggarty for the entire hour and a quarter.
The hint of the magical was there from the start; but what is this, after all, if not magic? No trickery - just spellbinding.
Performance Workshops
Review by Masha Voyles (Year 13):
With his red tie, high collared blazer and earnest expression, Ben Haggarty is as vivid as many of the characters that he describes in his stories. He describes himself as a performance storyteller, but over the course of the workshops he taught during the last week I discovered what that meant. He combines literature with the performing arts, transforming it into a collective experience. His technique might stem from an ancient tradition, but drawing on that tradition breathes new life into the folk stories that he tells.
In the workshops, over sandwiches and cake, he taught us some of the elements of his craft. We told stories using three types of language: ‘feeling’, ‘action’ and ‘description’, and practiced shifting quickly between one type and the other. This was just one of the techniques that he taught us to help us become better storytellers and writers. ![]()
Haggarty can tell any type of story on demand. The theme we picked was ‘love’ and without any notes or hesitation, he told us a thirty minute story of lovers separated by everything: faith, class and the sea. At the end of his visit, he performed another story for us. For a full hour and a half, a packed Hall listened with bated breath. His story was imaginative, humorous and sometimes disturbing. He took us through the palace of a possessed Princess, a garden of decapitated heads and a grave of frozen spit. The audience of teachers, Fourths and Specialists sat slack jawed with fascination. The teachers didn’t have to scold, the Fourths weren’t squirming and the Specialists forgot to pretend to look bored. Without 3D effects, a catchy theme song or Leonardo Di Caprio, Haggarty kept us spellbound.
![]()