Tell A Story: Chocolates and Sardines
It all started with a barn. A giant, spectacular horse-riding barn at the top of a hill which Mike Haley showed us on a lark one day. After we’d joined him for a friendly cup of coffee in his kitchen to talk about life in our new town, he spontaneously suggested we jump in his car and visit Christina Conklin at her barn at Roaring Brook Farm. ‘You’ll love it,’ he said. ‘The space is almost as spectacular as the views up there.’ And so we did, and so it was: the rolling foothills of the Berkshires wreathed in summer mist, slowly burning off from the morning’s dews, and a cathedral-like space inside a splendid structure, built for horses but fit for Shakespearean drama.
Mike is a ringleader for a variety of perennial events in town with odd-duck themes or left-footed associations. Every July, dozens come out for Irish road bowling. What is Irish road bowling, exactly? Every year, an innocent newcomer gets handed a similar description: teams of 4 people take turns rolling a 5-pound iron ball about 50 feet or so, targeting a small cartoonish replica of King George along a designated route through the streets, hills, and hollows of Conway. It’s all based on a guerilla sport pioneered by the Irish, supposedly invented to deprive British soldiers, the ‘black and tans,’ of their ammunition during the revolution of the 1920s.
And that’s just one event Mike organizes. The Chesbro Challenge? A glorified target practice with a baseball, in homage to Conway’s own Jack Chesbro, holder of major league baseball’s wins in a season record – at 30-something, a record which will never be eclipsed. The Crazy 8’s tournament? Texas hold’em at the Conway Inn. The Bridge Dinner? A white tablecloth affair actually served in the town’s scenic and historic covered bridge. So we weren’t at all surprised when we learned that MIke worked in Hollywood for decades as an assistant director to a ‘big shot’ and worked on many major films.
He also proved to be an inspiring partner for our season finale. Mike chose two short stories about married couples set in pre-war America by James Saunders and David Campton, adapting them for the stage. Paired with love songs written for string quartet by Antonin Dvorak, the evening featured music and drama beautifully woven together.
Why ‘chocolates and sardines?’ They both serve as stealthy ‘McGuffins,’ a dramaturge’s description for an item essential to a plot, yet irrelevant in itself. In the first story, Saunders’ ‘A Man’s Best Friend,’ a young just-married couple are on a train headed to their honeymoon in Niagara Falls and a box of chocolates serves as a piquant metaphor. In Campton’s ‘Resting Place,’ an older couple sharing a picnic in a cemetery enjoy sardines, a savory yet slightly sour reminder of life’s realities.
Chocolates and sardines? More likely, sweet and sour! Surprisingly, on the night of the concert, more people took complimentary cans of sardines left at the entrance to the barn than chocolates!
With Christina’s help setting up bales of straw, lighting, and a stage, Mikayla’s inspired stage direction, and the remarkable acting chops of Mike and his wife Joan as the couples at different stages of their marriage, the short string quartets by Dvorak, ‘Cypresses,’ played a poignant third character in the evening’s storytelling. Early in the Czech composer’s career, he wrote songs for voice and piano around the common theme of love against the backdrop of cypress trees. Much later, he re-imagined twelve of them for string quartet.
On a mid-September evening, the last Saturday of a New England summer, the twilight deepened, bats fluttering in the crisp air. Aided by vintage light bulbs glowing against the flaxen yellow of hay bales, the audience took their seats, and two violins, a viola, and cello began the evening’s storytelling, spinning a tale with wordless song.
Tell A Story: Chocolates and Sardines
It all started with a barn. A giant, spectacular horse-riding barn at the top of a hill which Mike Haley showed us on a lark one day. After we’d joined him for a friendly cup of coffee in his kitchen to talk about life in our new town, he spontaneously suggested we jump in his car and visit Christina Conklin at her barn at Roaring Brook Farm. ‘You’ll love it,’ he said. ‘The space is almost as spectacular as the views up there.’ And so we did, and so it was: the rolling foothills of the Berkshires wreathed in summer mist, slowly burning off from the morning’s dews, and a cathedral-like space inside a splendid structure, built for horses but fit for Shakespearean drama.
Mike is a ringleader for a variety of perennial events in town with odd-duck themes or left-footed associations. Every July, dozens come out for Irish road bowling. What is Irish road bowling, exactly? Every year, an innocent newcomer gets handed a similar description: teams of 4 people take turns rolling a 5-pound iron ball about 50 feet or so, targeting a small cartoonish replica of King George along a designated route through the streets, hills, and hollows of Conway. It’s all based on a guerilla sport pioneered by the Irish, supposedly invented to deprive British soldiers, the ‘black and tans,’ of their ammunition during the revolution of the 1920s.
And that’s just one event Mike organizes. The Chesbro Challenge? A glorified target practice with a baseball, in homage to Conway’s own Jack Chesbro, holder of major league baseball’s wins in a season record – at 30-something, a record which will never be eclipsed. The Crazy 8’s tournament? Texas hold’em at the Conway Inn. The Bridge Dinner? A white tablecloth affair actually served in the town’s scenic and historic covered bridge. So we weren’t at all surprised when we learned that MIke worked in Hollywood for decades as an assistant director to a ‘big shot’ and worked on many major films.
He also proved to be an inspiring partner for our season finale. Mike chose two short stories about married couples set in pre-war America by James Saunders and David Campton, adapting them for the stage. Paired with love songs written for string quartet by Antonin Dvorak, the evening featured music and drama beautifully woven together.
Why ‘chocolates and sardines?’ They both serve as stealthy ‘McGuffins,’ a dramaturge’s description for an item essential to a plot, yet irrelevant in itself. In the first story, Saunders’ ‘A Man’s Best Friend,’ a young just-married couple are on a train headed to their honeymoon in Niagara Falls and a box of chocolates serves as a piquant metaphor. In Campton’s ‘Resting Place,’ an older couple sharing a picnic in a cemetery enjoy sardines, a savory yet slightly sour reminder of life’s realities.
Chocolates and sardines? More likely, sweet and sour! Surprisingly, on the night of the concert, more people took complimentary cans of sardines left at the entrance to the barn than chocolates!
With Christina’s help setting up bales of straw, lighting, and a stage, Mikayla’s inspired stage direction, and the remarkable acting chops of Mike and his wife Joan as the couples at different stages of their marriage, the short string quartets by Dvorak, ‘Cypresses,’ played a poignant third character in the evening’s storytelling. Early in the Czech composer’s career, he wrote songs for voice and piano around the common theme of love against the backdrop of cypress trees. Much later, he re-imagined twelve of them for string quartet.
On a mid-September evening, the last Saturday of a New England summer, the twilight deepened, bats fluttering in the crisp air. Aided by vintage light bulbs glowing against the flaxen yellow of hay bales, the audience took their seats, and two violins, a viola, and cello began the evening’s storytelling, spinning a tale with wordless song.
