Family
December: the most famliest month of the year. Every year around this time, Confabulation gets squishy for relatives and hosts the yearly fam jam — a good old-fashioned evening of stories about the people who shaped us.
True stories, now on-line!
Confabulation is Montreal's monthly all-true storytelling showcase. Every show brings together people from all walks of life — doctors, boxers, students, grandmas — to share honest, unscripted accounts without notes, props, or gimmicks. Hosted by actor and comedian Matt Goldberg, each night is a celebration of the personal and political histories that make this city unique.
Shows are held at MainLine Theatre (3997 St-Laurent, Montreal) at 8 PM. Admission is pay what you can.
December: the most famliest month of the year. Every year around this time, Confabulation gets squishy for relatives and hosts the yearly fam jam — a good old-fashioned evening of stories about the people who shaped us.
An evening of stories of remarkable first impressions and surprising results. Montreal's premier monthly all-true storytelling series returned to MainLine Theatre for a night devoted to the best and worst of romantic encounters.
Stories on and off cue, key, and beat — presented as part of the Bouge d'Ici Dance Festival. Confabulation explored the moments when timing is everything, and when it fails spectacularly.
The leaves change and fall, the landlord plays with the heat — Confabulation looked truth square in the face and dared to tell the stories that matter most.
Stories of cures, curses, and confusing the two. Confabulation explored the remedies that backfired, the diagnoses that missed the mark, and the healing that came from unexpected places.
Tales from the highway, the backroads, and the journeys that changed everything. Confabulation hit the road with stories of departure, arrival, and everything in between.
Stories of split-second decisions — the moments when everything hangs in the balance and a single choice changes the course of a life.
2 theatres, 2 hosts, 32 stories, 1 Nuit Blanche. Confabulation's annual Nuit Blanche tradition returned with a marathon of two-minute tales — as many as could be fit into one unforgettable night.
Tales of miscommunication, misunderstanding, and mistaken identity — presented as part of the Bouge d'Ici dance festival. For January, that most confusing of months, Confabulation explored what happens when messages go awry.
A prop can open a memory more quickly than a paragraph. A set of keys, an old uniform or a photograph pinned to a board gives an audience something concrete to hold while a narrator ventures into difficult material. On a theatre stage, that object becomes more than decoration: it anchors time, exposes a contradiction or makes an invisible feeling briefly visible.
Confabulation, Montreal’s monthly live storytelling series, presents true stories without a script, allowing an audience to follow the truth as it emerges. Hosted by actor and comedian Matt Goldberg at MainLine Theatre, its performances welcome humour, vulnerability and cultural difference. The pay-what-you-can model also shapes the atmosphere. People arrive as participants in a shared community rather than passive customers, which makes visual restraint especially important.
| Element | What it can do | Best fit | Warning sign |
|---|---|---|---|
| Physical prop | Establish place, time or habit | An object tied to a decisive action | It attracts more attention than the narrator |
| Photograph | Preserve a relationship or earlier version of events | A story about memory, identity or change | Every detail becomes an invitation to inspect rather than listen |
| Projected image | Add context without delaying the spoken story | A location, document or visual reference | The presenter turns into a screen reader |
| Live camera or demonstration | Reveal something gradually | A transformation, comparison or concealed detail | Technical risk overwhelms the emotional purpose |
The useful distinction is between enrichment and substitution. A photograph may enrich a story by showing the kitchen where a difficult conversation occurred. It substitutes for the story when the presenter spends two minutes explaining every face in the image. Before adding anything to the stage, identify the exact moment it supports and the information or emotion the audience would otherwise miss.
The practical challenge of using props and visuals without losing the story is not making the performance look polished. It is making each element answerable to the narrator’s inner need. Choose the prop, frame the slide or position the camera because it reveals something necessary, then allow the spoken story to remain the dominant channel.
Begin with the emotional centre of the piece, not its object. Write down the pressure beneath the events: the need to belong, the shame of being left out, the pleasure of finally speaking, or the fear that change will erase a valued part of life. An audience can tolerate an untidy stage, but it struggles to follow a story whose purpose has become unclear.
Then assign each visual element one job. Keys might introduce the moment a relationship changes. A suitcase can mark departure, while an empty shelf can show absence. If one object tries to establish the whole backstory, divide its work into smaller cues. This creates rhythm and prevents the staging from explaining what the narrator should leave partly unsaid.
The best prop is not necessarily the most beautiful or expensive. It is the object whose presence carries meaning before the performer touches it. A battered school bag can carry years of experience, while a plastic shopping bag might hold evidence of an improvised journey. Its usefulness depends on the relationship between object and story, not on how easily it appears in a photograph.
Australian audiences recognise many everyday objects without explanation: a reusable coffee cup on a train, an Opal card in Sydney, a Myki card in Melbourne, or receipts tucked into a glovebox. Such familiarity can provide immediate context. It can also narrow interpretation. A familiar object should open a story rather than suggest that everyone shares the same memories, habits or family patterns associated with it.
Borrowed and sentimental objects require consent and care. Ask whether a family member is comfortable with a letter, voice recording or photograph appearing publicly. Remove addresses, account numbers and children’s names where identification is unnecessary. A respectful story can still expose someone else’s private information, especially when an object carries consequences beyond the performer’s control.
Photographs can orient an audience in seconds, but only when the presenter knows why each image matters. Crop out anything irrelevant, enlarge the significant detail and test whether it remains readable from the back row. A face shown for three seconds during silence may achieve more than a slide held for thirty seconds while the narrator reads from it.
Projected text requires particular discipline. Keep quotations short, reveal key phrases at the moment they are spoken and avoid covering the performer’s face. Live video can be effective when the audience sees only what the narrator sees, such as water moving through a bathroom sink after a flood. It becomes distracting when technical adjustments, reflections or image quality draw attention away from the delivery.
Plan access as carefully as imagery. Describe visual material for people who cannot see it, provide captions where appropriate and consider Auslan interpretation when the event is large enough to support it. Audio should be audible without forcing guests near the speaker to abandon their everyday coffee order or nearby conversation.
Physical storytelling works well when an object changes hands, opens, closes or crosses the stage. Those actions can mirror the structure of the tale: discovery, resistance and release. They also give an unscripted performance a modest piece of architecture without forcing the narrator into scripted movement or artificial theatricality.
Confabulation’s collection of stories about change demonstrates how boxes, keys, unfamiliar jobs and temporary addresses can organise entirely different truths. For Australian performers, the contents of a removalist’s carton might carry the story of a Melbourne rental ending, while a changed weekly route through Sydney could represent an identity rebuilt after separation.
Treat movement as a sequence rather than a pile of entrances. Introduce one condition, disturb it, and allow the final state to carry meaning. An object left open at the end can suggest uncertainty, but it does not need a speech explaining that symbolism. The audience can complete the emotional connection when the story has earned it.
Australian community storytelling often takes place in theatres, libraries, school halls, pubs and multipurpose community spaces. Each has different sight lines, lighting levels, acoustics and technical capacity. Rehearse for the actual room, including its rows, curtains, power outlets and noisy entrance door. A strong pause that works in a black-box studio may disappear beneath the hum of refrigeration in a licensed pub venue.
The local market affects what is sustainable. Small Australian shows may rely on ticket income, council grants, sponsorship, performer fees or a pay-what-you-can arrangement, so an elaborate technical setup can consume the budget needed for access, insurance or a fair fee. Simple lighting and printed images are not signs of low ambition. They can be deliberate choices that protect the work from technical failure.
Legal and ethical preparation belongs beside the rehearsal notes. The Australian Privacy Act and its Australian Privacy Principles may matter when identifiable material is held by a covered organisation, while copyright can apply to photographs, music, clips and recorded voices. Obtain permission, credit creators and check licences rather than assuming an image found online is free to project. Applicable state or territory work-health-and-safety duties also require sensible prop stability, clear walkways and control of electrical equipment.
Run the story with every planned visual, then run it again without them. This reveals whether the spoken account has enough clarity and momentum to stand on its own. It also exposes the point where a joke depends on an audience studying a background image. Test the piece under less-than-perfect conditions: late arrival, uneven lighting, a delayed slide change or a microphone that occasionally cuts out.
Australian venue habits deserve attention. Guests may arrive while a bar is serving, scan a room for available seating, settle with a drink and speak quietly with friends before settling in. A performer can acknowledge that transition without demanding immediate silence. A deliberate opening beat lets the room gather, while modest sound levels and visual contrast reduce the effort required to listen.
Have a low-tech fallback for essential material. Keep the document accessible, pre-load the slideshow on the presenting computer and place a substitute prop in the venue rather than at home. Rehearse the handover from one visual to the next, but allow a story to continue when an element fails. Confidence comes from knowing what can be lost, not from pretending technology will never fail.
Test the completed performance by asking what the audience remembers first. A striking prop may remain in memory for a few minutes, yet the lasting impression should be the person, choice or relationship the story made visible. The best visuals give those elements a shape; they do not turn the narrator into a curator of interesting objects.
An audience can accept a crooked frame, a silent slide or a simple piece of cardboard. It is less forgiving of a story interrupted by self-display. Remove any element that delays the central revelation, competes with another cue or invites admiration unrelated to the narrative. Restraint gives the most important moments room to arrive.
What should remain is not the technique behind the storytelling, but the human truth made easier to see. The object serves that truth, the image deepens it, and the performance ends with the person still carrying the story.
From the Summer Love show, Zoe Daniels took the stage to share a story about what happens when the season fades and the real work begins.
From the Inherited Stories show, Joel Fishbane shared a tale spanning four decades of devotion — a story passed down and lived through.
From the Summer Love show, Sage Tyrtle brought a story of warm nights, fleeting romance, and the kind of love that only lasts a season — but stays with you forever.