Folk artist Leo Kottke treated an enthusiastic audience to a night of music, stories and humor Friday night at the Ames City Auditorium.

The guitarist took the stage with only a 12-string guitar in his hand and a six-string acoustic sitting next to him, and didn’t say a word. For four songs, he remained silent and let his fingerpicking music, which ranged from jazz to country, do the talking. Wearing a black shirt and standing in front of a black curtain, Kottke’s hands, guitar and emotion-filled face were the center of attention.

He woke the audience up with a painful hum as he tuned his guitar, then began one of only two songs with vocals. Even then, the impressive fingerpicking (imagine Chet Atkins playing Phish or Jimmy Buffett) took center stage, and his singing only added to the mix.

From that point on, Kottke began telling stories about past experiences with the likes of Atkins, Joe Pass and Merle Haggard, and whatever other memories came to mind. With each story of a screw-up or stumble in his life, it was increasingly apparent that there’s very little cockiness in Kottke.

“One of the secrets to staying in tune is changing your strings. I don’t do that — it’s boring,” Kottke said a half hour before breaking a string.

About a minute into a soft cover of Carla Bley’s “Jesus Maria,” Kottke paused, obviously a little frustrated, and jumped into a totally different tune.

“That was a song by Carla Bley interrupted by me, because the song by Carla Bley was interrupted by a complete blank,” he said.

Whatever the song, Kottke spun complex harmonies that took over the sounds of an entire band. From plucked string-bass-style lower lines to sing-song melodies and percussive snaps, the guitar did it all — at the same time.

It was also apparent Kottke was pulling as he pleased from a deep pool of songs. He had apparently played some more recently than others, but all were impressive.

“It was pretty improvised, and low-key, interesting, humorous,” said Mary Anne Begg of Ames. “I think he just entertained us — good performance.”

Kottke’s final story included an anthropologist who had a wild baboon slowly approach him and point its finger in the air. Just when he thought they were having a moment, it started to nurse on his nipple.

Kottke had read it in a book, he said, and decided out of the blue to share it with the world.

“I like how he tells the stories, I’ve always liked that part,” said Larry Stoltenberg, of Kelley. “I like that he’s just low-key and let’s the guitar speak for him, maybe because I’m kind of that way too.”