“Sage Tyrtle tells stories so that you see yourself in them. It’s impossible not to think that the story is really about you.” – Tasleem Thawar, 10 1/2 Stories
Who am I? I am a professional storyteller with over fifteen years of teaching and performing before audiences small and large. In addition, I have significant experience performing in recorded and live broadcast media. I am a Moth StorySlam winner. I have been featured on NPR and CBC Radio, Now Magazine, MacLean’s Magazine, and the Toronto Star. [learn more]
My workshops are interactive and high energy and my students learn by doing the exercises in class. Not only do they learn by doing, but simply watching another student in the class do the exercise is inspiring too. My improvisational theatre training means my classes are fluid. If a student asks a question, I can create an exercise on the spot to address the answer. My workshops are filled with laughter. I make sure every student feels supported, respected, and comfortable.
I perform for audiences of all ages all over the world: true stories, thirty to sixty-minute solo shows, traditional folktales and interactive improvised fairy tales. I use my body and voice as tools to engage my audience.
How did I start telling stories? Like this: I’m sixteen and on a road trip with my uncle Doug and his family. Doug is the kind of guy who walks into a party and everyone runs over to hear his latest stories. It’s dark, we’ve been driving for hours, and I’ve been telling a story about what happened at school for approximately the entire trip, and suddenly Doug says from the driver’s seat, “If I hear one more word of this story I will actually die of boredom and the car will crash and we will all die.”
And I have two options: I can jump out of the car and end my worthless life, or I can say in a tiny sulky voice, “Well… YOU tell it better, then.”
And Doug tells me my own story. And it’s suddenly fascinating, full of twists and turns that really happened, but that I was burying under irrelevant facts. And I get it: storytelling isn’t a talent you’re born with. It’s an art.
Today, I’m a storyteller. I draw from a rich well of experience – including living in a tent for two years, my lesbian schizophrenic mother, almost killing people with my evil mind control (NO REALLY) – to draw my audience in and enthrall them with true stories.
My audiences step into my odd life for fifteen minutes at a time, and sometimes their stomachs hurt from laughing. And sometimes they have to go re-do their makeup because they were crying so hard. They forget they’re in a public place. It’s just me and you. And the story.