A bit about Aunt Lou ~

Jemima (Aunt Lou) Tarter was born in 1865, on a farm that adjoined ours. It seems probable that her ancestors arrived there around the time that mine did in 1810, and likely from the same place, Wythe county Virginia. She died in 1959, the year I was born, so I didn't meet her, but my older siblings did. (And I have a 92 yr old neighbor who told me some of the best stories!) Her parents died around the turn of the century and she lived on, alone, in a two story log cabin in a little glade in a big dark pine forest. The cabin, her smokehouse and chicken huts were still there when I was a child, remote and quite a long walk. The dark woods surrounded the house with plenty of atmosphere to support the legends of Aunt Lou being a witch. Not just a witch, but the rarer sort, feared but accepted by the community. She was no one's Aunt, that was a given title. The local community gathered at her place to celebrate her birthday yearly, on July 22nd, with a dinner on the grounds and singing. These parties, and the singing, were legendary as well. My parents and siblings always attended - my Mom with a coveted Angel Food cake. Both my parents were recognized as being excellent singers, and I have a good idea of what they were singing then, most likely the same songs we sang when we were stripping tobacco. After Aunt Lou's death, my Mom, who, again like my Father, was an amazing storyteller, told and retold stories of Aunt Lou for her grandchildren. With each turn, Aunt Lou's already considerable powers grew. At a point I took up the tales as well, never thinking that they would develop into a project. In my teens I began searching out older storytellers and singers to learn from. Several of those told me witch tales, and two claimed something of those powers as their own. Much of the research for my work has intersected with anthropology and many of those texts attempt to chart the belief systems concerning witches. I have my own theory that belief in witchcraft remains constant, perhaps even a bit more universal in our current society than in times past, albeit dressed in different language. The core of Aunt Lou, as a performance gambit, are local stories told locally and walks to the site of Aunt Lou's house. When her cabin was torn down after her death, my parents bought the logs, wood and stones. We rebuilt her infamous fireplace and chimney, reconstructed her smokehouse, and her chestnut front door is now my kitchen table. Aunt Lou loved flowers, and shared her plants with my parents - I still have 6 varieties growing here, each one with very interesting links to herbal lore and witches. In addition to the sonic and landscape components, the stories have inspired some visual art. And I have a single photo of Aunt Lou, exceeding expectations in its evocative nature.

Aunt Lou's birthday party (July 22nd) ~

The house was surrounded by a dark pine woods ~

Visitors ~

Stories became legends ~

Aunt Lou ~