What's a Crankie?
"They are an old storytelling art form. Start with a long illustrated scroll that is wound onto two spools. The spools are loaded into a box which has a viewing window. The scroll is then hand-cranked while the story is told, a song is sung or a tune is played. If you haven't seen one before, then a video is worth a thousand words." Check out the Crankie Factory for lots more info and samples. www.thecrankiefactory.com/
"They are an old storytelling art form. Start with a long illustrated scroll that is wound onto two spools. The spools are loaded into a box which has a viewing window. The scroll is then hand-cranked while the story is told, a song is sung or a tune is played. If you haven't seen one before, then a video is worth a thousand words." Check out the Crankie Factory for lots more info and samples. www.thecrankiefactory.com/
The Moon is Halfway to Wednesday was done to Grant Simpson's song of the same name. We produced it for the Crescent Art Centre Follies 2020. See it on YouTube. www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5hGfZMWQOU
The Moon is Halfway to Wednesday was done to Grant Simpson's song of the same name. We produced it for the Crescent Art Centre Follies 2020. See it on YouTube. www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5hGfZMWQOU
The next crankie was shown at Earth Day 2021. www.youtube.com/watch?v=2c4dDhFBsIs An oral recitation of Wendell Berry's poem The Peace of Wild Things accompanied it.
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
