Sunday Miscellany

[alex_beecroft]

I’ve had Ely Apple Day on my mind for a week. I blogged about it last week, full of enthusiasm with the memory of good dancing and good music on a day when it didn’t rain, even though it looked like it wanted to. I’d been looking forward to seeing the photos, but when we did, several members of the side noticed that everyone was wearing blue. The idea of our kit is that our white shirts represent the white skies of the Fens, our black skirts represent the rich black Fenland soil, our red handkerchiefs represent the blood spilled in the Ely and Littleport Riots after which we’re named, and the many different colours of our waistcoats represent the individuality of each dancer.

This is totally scuppered if we all go for the same colour, and somehow, despite differences of shade, we all seem to have gone for variants of blue. This could mean only one thing – time to make another waistcoat. I wanted lime green, but they didn’t have enough of that on the roll, so – in an unexpected move which surprised even myself – I’ve bought some royal purple material instead

with some tacky yet sparkly buttons to match. This should clash in a most satisfactory way with my orange hair and lime green shawl. Good taste being yet another of those things which the true zen masters of folk have ascended beyond.

Speaking of Ely Apple Day, I had a lovely exchange with a member of the crowd who had drawn up to watch us.

“Where are these dances from?” she asked me.

As I’m sure you know, the same question can have several appropriate answers depending on the context, because the context helps clarify what is actually being asked. I’m not much good at picking up the subtle clues which show what the context is, so I started off by trying to explain that these were dances from the Welsh Borders, but there were other styles of morris dancing from other areas, such as Cotswold and North West Clog, and that the local style – Molly – was similar to what we were doing, but slightly different.

But by that point I could tell from her continued look of bemusement that I was not really answering the question she’d intended to ask. Then I put together her Mediterranean looks and slight lisp of an accent and struck out with what I thought might be a lucky guess. “The prevailing theory is that the Morris dance is originally from Spain,” I said.

Her face cleared – this was obviously what she’d really been asking about all along. “I’m from Catalonia,” she said, “and our dances are just like this. I wondered if there had been some sort of cultural exchange programme.”

I laughed. “There was indeed. It was in the 15th Century.”

And this is why history, and Folk, are neither boring nor irrelevant – because the cultural ties our two countries had five hundred years ago still help make sense of our behaviour, and allow us to feel like part of a family, even today. It’s a small world and dancing makes it a better one.

Music does too. On a different subject, we were walking around Cambridge today, and in three different places we were surrounded by music played live on the painted pianos that have been scattered around the town

http://elfringham.co.uk/cambridge-street-pianos-2/

proper music, mind you. People had obviously discovered they were there, gone home for their sheet music and come back prepared. There was some wonderful concert standard stuff going on al fresco, in the balcony of the shopping centre and outside in the park.

Mirrored from Alex Beecroft - Author of Gay Historical and Fantasy Fiction.

Comments

[sharpiefan]

I have to say, I love reading about your Morris stuff. It's something I'd love to try myself one day - among the bazillion and one things I want to do when I have time/money/both. (Can't remember who the presenter was, but the BBC programme a while back about clog dancing made it look absolutely fascinating - including the flashmob clog dancing right in the city centre! :D )

[alex_beecroft]

We were talking in the pub after practice, and a couple of people who had been in the folk scene all their lives complimented us on fitting in so quickly. They said it was probably down to the fact that we'd been reenactors, because there's a similar blend of respect for tradition and history combined with not taking yourself too seriously in morris as there is in reenactment. When I think about it, there are also similar elements of performance-yet-anonymity too. Which is to say 'you should try it, because it sounds like you'd fit right in.' :)

[sharpiefan]

I'll have to see if there's a female or female-friendly group somewhere near me... :D (It's hard to take yourself seriously when wandering around in period kit or doing folk dance. Also, I love folk music - it's the pop music of its day, after all, and can tell the listener SO much about life then.)

Also, the bit about the pianos reminds me of a couple of years ago when I was in Rochester for the Dickens Festival... I heard music coming from one of the second-hand furniture shops down there and wandered in to see someone playing one of the pianos they had for sale. I can't remember if she was suing sheet music or playing from memory, but it was really really lovely.

[alex_beecroft]

Whereabouts are you? We're always looking for new people, if you're close enough :)

I've always been fond of the rock-folk fusion of the likes of Steeleye Span, but what I like most about morris music is that it's simple enough for me to do it. I've never been much good at music at school, yet now I can whip out my whistle and join in with playing live music for dancers and at pub sessions. It's had a low enough entry point to accommodate my lack of ability. Which is not something I can say about playing the piano! But even there, it's given me even more admiration for those who can.

[sharpiefan]

I'm in Kent, which is a good two or three hours drive away from Ely (possibly more; I only saw the signs as I passed on my way north when I was still in the Army). :(

I like Steeleye Span, I just find them hard to follow sometimes, even when I know the words of the song they're singing.

Someone linked me to a Youtube vid of the Unthanks' Here's the Tender Comin' and I REALLY want to learn how to vid now, because the actual vid to the song, while gorgeous, doesn't fit the words or theme at all.

I think it's amazing that people still sing songs (and dance dances!) that were around a hundred years ago or more.

When people talk about living history, I think that we can easily forget it's more than just dressing up in period clothes pretending we're back in a certain period of history. To me, in a way, people singing folk songs, or doing morris dancing or bell-ringing IS living history because they are continuing centuries-old traditions.

[alex_beecroft]

Ah, that's definitely too far to come. But there are quite a few sides in your area http://morrisdancing.wikia.com/wiki/Morris_teams_in_United_Kingdom
I've heard good things about the Maenads, and one of our dancers used to dance with Loose Women & seems to recall them fondly. Which is about as much as I can do for personal recommendations, I'm afraid.

Seven Champions are fantastic, if you get the chance to watch them. They're an all male side, so no good for joining, but well worth seeing, if you can. Their music is provided by two female singers, very similar to that Unthanks song, so it's an eerie experience watching them, dancing in quite a harsh masculine way to the sound of women singing songs of dignified grief.

I can't help but think that the maker of the vid didn't know what a tender was, and therefore didn't understand what the song was about, because yes, it was all images of tenderness rather than ones of loss.

*g* Yes. There's nothing in reenacting that can beat the Abbots Bromley horn dance for living history - they're still dancing with the same horns that have been brought out of the church every year since 1226.