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collaging like a storyteller

Sep 27
6 min read


“We have no sooner learned to speak than we begin demanding to be told stories, as evidence of an appetite likely to continue to our dying day"
CHRISTOPHER BOOKER

 


Stories are one of the fundamentals of our lives; whether a great novel or gossip between friends, stories are how we connect with each other. They are living things: growing and changing as they pass through each new person, taking on new purpose and transforming until you can recognise them only by their core elements. Two stories can run parallel, sharing the same meaning, purpose, and intention, but never intersect, speaking to the universality of human experience.


Stories told today share commonality with ancient narratives, intentionally or not. Recently, I have been reading ‘The Seven Basic Plots: Why we tell stories’ where Christopher gives an interesting example in which the classic film 'Jaws' bears an interesting resemblance to another ancient story 'Beowulf' (early 6th century CE).



Here's the summary:


‘Beowulf’ tells how the peace of a small seaside community in Heorot is suddenly shattered by attacks from Grendel, a monster of almost supernatural power who lives in the depths of a nearby lake. The inhabitants of Heorot are thrown into a stew of fear and confusion as Grendel begins his enigmatic attacks on the hall where they sleep, taking one victim after another. Finally, when the threat becomes almost too much to bear, the hero Beowulf sets out to do battle: first with Grendel, then with his even more terrible mother. The climactic fight rages underwater until both creatures are defeated, and the community once again comes together in joyous celebration.


 

Despite the striking resemblance, Jaws is likely an unintentional retelling; however, fairy tales have many intentional retellings that transport the core themes of these narratives into slightly different forms to better reflect the worries of the society they are retold for. To me, that feels similar to being a collage artist, repurposing preexisting elements to say something new.



A good example is found within the fairy tale of Little Red Riding Hood. In Perrault's 17th-century telling, the intended audience was the French Court (Le Petit Chaperon Rouge, 1697). Here, the presumed purpose of the story was to warn the audience that a 'wolf' may follow unsuspecting girls into salons with the intention of 'devouring' them. Then, roughly 150 years later, Paul Delarue collected the story after it had slowly developed over time. Within 'The Story of Grandma,' the purpose and audience have changed; this new story, which shares many of the same motifs and structure, now tells a story of female empowerment and growing into womanhood, not so much the damsel seen in Perrault's telling.

 

Of all narrative categories, why am I so drawn to fairy tales? Fairy tales tap into the subconscious and speak to things that are difficult for even oneself to articulate, which you may only be aware of in an emotional sense. Repurposing elements and motifs as visual stories, translating them to reflect my own experiences, allows me to be specific while still feeling protected, like speaking outright to someone on the other side of a foggy window. They can hear you mostly clearly, getting an outline of the truth, and you get the relief of being unburdened and vulnerable without risking being too honest.


I find that having a core and purpose for why I make artwork, or a clear point of view, helps to imbue each piece with intention and clarity naturally. For me, it is making diaristic work inspired by old stories, but it could be inspired by your childhood, your hobbies, history, pop culture, and so much more!


 

“Good storytelling never gives you four, it gives you two plus two don’t give the audience the answer” 
John Yorke

 

You may be wondering, 'Yes, okay, but how does this relate to making a collage?' The way I see it, stories are formed in most visual mediums, whether you intend them to or not, so you may as well try your best to control it. While plenty of people will share your reference points and find it easier to connect with your work, just as many may know Beowulf instead of Jaws.


I am going to show you an example of my work and explain the thought process behind how I use each element to direct the viewer toward a specific feeling, story point, or theme; I hope you'll learn something new and apply it to your own creativity.


I will start by saying you can never fully convey all your intentions to everyone; as I have said, people view art through their own lens and experiences. This doesn't mean that if you don’t share the same experience with someone, your work will not reach them; it just means they will respond to your work by telling their own story, sparked by you telling yours. Even in films with the full combination of visuals, dialogue, and music, no two people share the same experience. If they had, I would argue that the film is too simplistic, trying to resonate with most people. Yet, contradictorily, I believe even simplistic stories have purpose; if they make the viewer return again and again, they've connected emotionally with the audience.




This collage, entitled ‘The Frogs in My Pool', has three key things I wanted people to recognise: a sense of melancholy, memory, home, and that it was personal. How did I do this? I used eyeline, made sure key pieces served multiple purposes, and gave elements room to breathe.


Eyeline is a valuable tool; if the figure were looking forward, or if something obstructed the view of the house, it could read as coincidental, or the viewer may misread the intention. Having her look directly at the house with a clear, forlorn expression subtly hints at its importance.


For me, home represents identity, and even if the viewer interprets it differently, ‘home’ still carries powerful meaning for people.


The ‘memory’ aspect is a little more on the nose if you know your flowers; these are forget-me-nots. While most people may not know the name of this flower, it also serves a secondary purpose: it gives the piece a tangled, overgrown feeling that can convey a restricted yet beautiful sense of confinement. The final aspect is more subtle (unlike the prominence of the frogs): the title itself. The title seems unrelated and may be jarring at first; however, it is intentional. This collage represents a specific memory of mine: walking with my family to a nearby pond to return the frogs' spawn, which had found its way into our pool, back into their natural habitat. This mundane memory has been whimsified through collage to reflect its uncertainty, representing the strength of the memory and how much of it could be fact or a false memory.


The project that this artwork belongs to, ‘The Pearl Garden’, is a collection of pieces in which I use landscape and the garden to play with what is believed to be there and what we are seeing in reality; inviting a double vision, a slippage between the imagined and the material. Within this, the garden becomes a stage, a performance of reality delivered with either dramatisation or dryness, where memory, projection, and sensory experience collide and become dull. Therefore,

this piece needs to perform its purpose and support the project. If it is not strong enough in conveying my intentions, I will not be able to include it in the body of work.



However, not all work needs such a strong identity; I make plenty of pieces just for fun with simpler narratives, such as 'The Tiny World'. This is simply a young fairytale girl waiting calmly under a flower; what she is waiting for, who or why, is up to the audience to decide! What matters is that I have provided the tools (elements) for the audience to imagine a story from a single image.



Within collage, we are lucky because we use pieces that already have a cultural/communal narrative; pieces from children’s books, art history books, or modern magazines each provide a unique built-in audience framework. We can either lean into it or completely disregard it, manipulating the pieces to represent something completely separate. However, being aware of this allows you to manipulate it and keep control of the narrative.



So, to simplify, I form a narrative by giving every element a clear purpose/intention, making sure everything is connected, there are no elements floating around, there are no unnecessary pieces that would confuse the narrative, and, more importantly, I give the artwork a strong purpose. I hope to create work that lets people look a little deeper and connect with it personally, if they choose to do so.

 

I would love to see your favourite storytelling pieces! You can share them with me on Instagram or in the comments below.



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References:


Booker, C. (2004). The Seven Basic Plots. New York: Continuum.


Transforming Our Understanding of Fairy Tales. (2018). TEDX Talks. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jit32hKZ-BM&t=130s [Accessed 26 Sept. 2026].


Yorke, J. (2013). Into the Woods: How Stories Work and Why We Tell Them. London, England: Penguin Books.

 
 
 

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