On the eve of the winter solstice I offer you this - Grandmother of the Well - a field recording, an audio-theatrical experiment and an exploration of story and place, straight from the heart of Ibiza’s lost valley of Atzaró. I have loved all aspects of the making of this creative offering, which I bring to you in celebration of this dark, sacred time, this long winter solstice night.
Essentially, Grandmother of the Well is an experiment in site-specific storytelling. I have combined the basic shape of a very, very old and universal winter solstice story which I heard many years ago and love very much, with a rural location and place on Ibiza which I love in equal measure. I’ve mapped out the route of this very simple, archetypal and ancient story shape on a physical, local landscape whose own stories have entwined themselves around me in recent years, due to my own fascination and wonder, as well as a nice little handful of synchronicities.
The central meeting point between these two story worlds - the overarching solstice story, and the narrative of the local landscape itself - is the well, one of about half a dozen Ibizan wells which feature centuries-old painted motifs and symbols inside their chambers, whose possible meanings were much reflected on by the late architect, ethnographer, writer and mystic Rolf Blakstad (see his drawings, below). This particular well, in the words of Blakstad, ‘is orientated so as to receive the light of the sun at the winter solstice. There is a sun painted in the inner ‘womb' chamber of the spring.’
The act of bringing alive a timeless, universal story in a real life location which speaks stories of its own has been a very magical and rewarding experiment. The original telling was by the British, Dartmoor-based storyteller Lisa Schneidau in 2011, at the South Devon Steiner school. She has informed me that the story is generally referred to as ‘The Three Gold Hairs’, and can be found in Clarissa Pinkola Estés’s ‘Women who run with the Wolves’. Looking it up just now, and seeing it in print for the first time was a funny experience - I realise my site-specific telling omits several basic details. But perhaps they’re not necessary, the rough shape is there, and it’s enough. Let me know.
When you emerge out of the woods, perhaps you’d like to boil some water for a hot water bottle and a mug of strong tea, fortified with some honey and brandy, and listen to the accompanying playlist (below)…
A final little nod to three individuals who have definitely inspired aspects of this offering - firstly, Sylvia Linsteadt and her reimagining and re-telling of ‘Morning Star Woman & Ivan the Youngest Son’, also Thomas Sharp and his multi-disciplinary and playful approaches with language and performance, and Sophie Strand, inspiring in so many ways, not least her refreshing manipulation of digital imagery, on social media, via the act of printing, folding, crumpling, then re-scanning, and whose inspiration is evident in my story map (above). As you can see from the links, all three of these creatives are on Substack…. it feels like a rich place to be right now. Also, thanks to Ade Swash, whose incredible 4am dawn chorus recording features at the end of the audio track.
Do let me know what you make of this little adventure, I’ve had a lot of fun making it.
Images:
< Atzaró valley, dusk, midwinter
< Grandmother of the Well, a story map (with William Morris border)
< studies and illustrations of Grandmother’s well in the Atzaró valley, carried out by Rolf Blakstad cerca 1960, featuring in the book on his life’s work, ‘The House of Ibiza’, (Loft Publications, 2021)
All Hail the Grandmother
🙏