Celebrating Somerset’s creative & cultural practitioners... Sharon Jacksties

In the latest a series of monthly blogs celebrating Somerset’s creative & cultural practitioners, our Arts Engagement & Outreach Officer Nick White meets…

Sharon Jacksties

When I arrive at Sharon Jacksties’ house in Langport, she’s no-where to be seen. I tentatively walk in through the conservatory which has five or six huge bookcases stacked full. She calls from upstairs, instructing me to go into the living room, an incredible treasure trove of dragons, music, geology and mythology. I’m delighted to see, given the subject of my last blog, a couple of pieces each by James & Kate Lynch, hanging on the wall. There’s a view across to Aller Woods and a white & black cat, Sorrel, speculatively examining me from head to foot. I understand that he does not often meet his match and I’m honoured to discover a few days later that my visit was good for his soul.

Sharon has been working as a performance, community and applied storyteller for over 30 years, 20 of them in Somerset. From the early years to the elderly, you name them she’s worked with them. She is waiting to return to Halsway Manor, England's only residential centre for the traditional arts, where she has taught storytelling courses based on ‘a sense of place’ as well as performance skills for improving storytellers. Pre-Covid Sharon was the UK’s Ambassador for The Federation of European Storytelling. She’s a creative entrepreneur, often working with storyteller, musician & digital/graphic artist Jem Dick to deliver community arts projects across Somerset and the South West: Pop-Up Tales, Sovereign Nature, Spoken World and Stories Without Borders to name some recent ventures.

Sharon’s is an eclectic repertoire of international personal stories, village stories, folk stories, wonder stories, myths, legends. In simple terms she tells stories about place. About where people live, about our relationship with nature and the natural world. They’re stories that exist in the liminal space between narrator and character, sea and sky. In the middle of our world and the magical spaces that surround it.

The first time I met her was during the early days of Wassail Theatre as I was preparing for The Somerset Charabanc, a transient theatrical journey across the Levels. As part of our research, we hopped in a car to explore potential routes the show could follow, Sharon offering her local knowledge from the passenger seat. As we turned into Wagg Drove, a tiny ancient memory of a lane linking two big A-roads, she declared with a soft, lyrical lilt: “this road is The Girt Dog’s tail,” in reference to Langport’s famous five-mile-long canine depicted by features in the landscape. The Girt Dog didn’t end up in that show, but Sharon’s influence resulted in us inventing a whole host of local myths that fed four or five productions.

Reading Sharon’s retellings, and listening to her tell a story orally, is where you understand her craft. Her book Somerset Folk Tales has been my well-thumbed go-to for years: I love the story ‘Eli’s Eel’ while I’ve mined every page for source material for plays at Wassail, at Yeovil College and with many a youth theatre (including ‘Yeovil’s Giant Hay Thief’ at The Octagon’s SHiNE 2015). I’ve heard her at Wells Cathedral, on the edge of Cadbury Castle, and from her own armchair.  She writes as she speaks: carefully & deliberately, instantly transporting you to the tip of the tale she’s about to turn.

It's hard to chat with an artist and avoid conversations about funding & programming, especially given the current challenging climate. As with much of the rest of the independent creative sector Sharon is constantly negotiating with herself about how, and whether, to create space to manifest the soup of ideas that exist in her mind. This takes stamina and demands mischief. Sharon’s eyes are never far from mischief. When writing the story of how the Devil built the bridge at Tarr Steps (another entry in Somerset Folk Tales), her gift to herself was to suggest that the Devil was sunbathing at the time. “Exmoor is one of the rainiest spots in Britain and it’s highly unlikely that anyone would be applying factor 50 there.” She supresses a giggle.

“We all love story.” she asserts, as she kicks her legs into the air with a flourish. “A story is simply a sequence of events that culminate in meaning, and humans live to build a continuum of meanings.”  After all, storytelling is the most ancient artform, as old as language and humanity itself. Her latest book will be testament to that: A History of the World in 100 Tales is due for publication in October 2024 and will feature stories from all corners of the globe. I want to know if a Somerset story will be part of that canon, but I forget to ask.  I guess I’ll have to buy it to find out. 

In the meantime, I leave Sharon’s house mindful to take time to listen and learn, to stay connected to the ancient traditions, to allow myself to be transported to the places I know and love.  And to trust in the power of story to let that happen.

www.sharonjackstories.co.uk