Derek Gordon was the first person in New Zealand history
to make a full-time occupation of storytelling, diving into that wine-dark sea. He has now
been storytelling for longer as it took Odysseus to go to Troy and come back home again!
For over 21 years, in fact!
Since 1981, he has storytold in every situation possible,
and then some.
Whether telling the remarkable stories of his family, or
the astonishing and powerful stories of the human family itself, audiences are spellbound
by him. His storytelling leaves lasting memories.
Biography.
Born in 1947 in Hamilton, New Zealand, by the time Gordon
was four years old he was an extreme asthmatic, growing up in the 1950s when
medication for New Zealand children with asthma was virtually zilch.
Every night was a survival test. Starved for oxygen, he
often fell from consciousness only to return to hear what happened in the story his mother
was telling him. Following the line of a story often saved him from completely passing
out.
From an early age he was imbued with things literary and
oratorical - from both sides of the family.
Derek has always felt that people grow together around the
hearthside, with the gradual unfolding of life through the story that is told. The fabric
of the human family is bound together by the generous weaving of stories in good company.
Look at the word hearth. Take off the h at the beginning, it
becomes earth: take off the last h, it becomes heart.
Heart of the earth is the Hearth.
Within New Zealand, and Australia, there has been a
growing recognition of our historical roots in understanding who we are. In New Zealand,
Irish and Scottish bars have flourished, and St Patricks day celebrations have
blossomed. Derek loves to tell the stories of Finn McCool, the big Irish hero, or of Queen
Maeve and Cuchulain; stories of the Greeks and epics of Pacific people; stories he has
heard and creations the Muse sends.
We all have a great oral and story heritage - who wants to
lose such a treasure? When we begin to speak from the heart we are transformed. Both tears
of laughter and tears of sorrow spring from our eyes as we flow through the remembered
experiences and epic tales and magically inspiring stories of our people. Characters come
to life before our eyes, those well-remembered aunties and uncles and grandparents, and
the old tin mug beside the fire.
We remember what it is like to be warm, kind, and human.
And whether in the Great Hall or by the fire, the whole process becomes a remarkable
life-giving entertainment.