Some folks like radishes, and some curly kale...

So this weekend saw the 2010 Icknield Way Ale, where approaching 100 morris men (yup, an all boys event, this one) from all over the country gathered to dance, sing, eat and maybe have a beer or two. Four casks of ale from the ever reliable West Berkshire Brewery dealt with the drinks element, three vast vats of stew (plus spuds, coleslaw, pickles, cheese, etc.) provided more solid sustenance, and we managed to look after the rest between us.

A good night appears to have been had by all, though one day I might remember that it is a good idea to get more than an hour and a half of sleep after a lot of drinking and dancing. Oh well, nearly recovered now.

Catching Up 2: Getting Older

Time is ticking away since this, but a couple of weeks I had the first real birthday party I have had since, well, I can't remember. Probably the last for just as long too, but as it was one of those things that people label as a landmark birthday, it seemed a good excuse. So <3 hired a nearby village hall, ordered a cask of ale, invited a lot of people, bought a heap of food, and then we waited for people to turn up...

...Which they did.

So we ended up having a fantastic evening, kicking off with an enormous amount of food and drink to get people started, followed by a series of entertainments. I can't remember the precise order of things, so I'll just blurt out some of the highlights.

First up we had the maiden performance of Lepton Morris, a mongrel morris side (some borders and some Cotswold dances so far) based at work with lunchtime practices. For our first time out of the practice hall, we managed three dances which went pretty well over all. Great for morale.

We were also entertained at a couple of times during the evening by V and K, who had brought some lovely kites to float around the hall. Good fun.

A scratch band played for us while J called a few ceilidh dances for us, including the ever-daft Orcadian strip-the-willow.

We had more morris from Icknield Way, doing a few dances — and later on, G and I danced an amateurish but enthusiastic (and seam splitting) Bampton jig.

Another maiden performance came from Rose Hips, <3's new bellydance troupe using live European folk music for a fun set that really impressed us all. We're looking forward to their next performance at White Horse Ceilidhs at easter.

Then later, things calmed down for a little while before a session kicked off with a good few tunes and songs. This could easily have gone on for several more hours, but we had to be out of the hall by midnight, so had to call it all to a halt as everyone was warming up. A pity, but then again, it's always good to leave 'em wanting more.

That was great fun, so thanks to everyone who came and contributed.

Catching Up: The Kennett Ale

Life has actually been pretty busy lately and I figure I have some catching up to do. So, taking events in no particular order, let's get started.

This weekend was the Kennett Morris Ale, and my second year of attendance. I rolled in a bit on the late side (well, just as things were getting started rather than in the planned good time) due to getting lost in Bracknell, my planned co-pilot having had a better offer in the form of a paid trip to the USA.

We were a bit limited for our show dances as we only had six of our side in attendance, but borrowing a musician for one set and a dancer (who is also a part-time Icknield Way man) we got through pretty well -- and I'm pleased with this picture showing Graham and I getting some fairly decent air on a Bampton dance.

Beer was drunk, chilli was eaten, dances were dances, and songs were sung. Much fun.

In the morning I gave a new friend a lift to the station, taking a rather circuitous route given that neither of us had any idea where the station was. It turned up eventually and I then managed to make my way home for a bit of a lie down.

Getting Jiggy

This weekend was pretty full on. I went with a couple of the other Icknield Way men to Nottinghamshire to take part in the Morris Ring's annual jigs instructional weekend. Unfortunately I forgot to take my camera, so no pictures this time.

For the uninitiated, a jig in the context of morris is a dance typically performed by one or two dancers, usually with only one of them dancing at a time (there are exceptions to all of that) where the emphasis is on individual skill, as opposed to set dances (usually 6 or more dancers) where it's all about the presentation of the group as a whole.

The weekend featured seven Cotswold morris traditions (a tradition is just a group of dances which were collected from one place, and which all have a number of stylistic features in common), with between 45 minutes and twice that dedicated to study of the jigs associated with each of them. That's quite a lot of dancing.

So the weekend went something like this...

Friday... Drove up with the lads, getting to the hall at about 8pm, being presented with dinner, and then getting stuck straight in to an hour of Ascot Under Wychwood, a tradition that was completely new to me. That done, it was off to take up residence at the pub for lots of tunes and singing.

Saturday... Somehow managed to crawl out of the sleeping bag for breakfast and then into the workshops that began at 9am. I was almost out of my depth with the morning Fieldtown and Bledington workshops (mostly struggling with the slow capers), but I think I can work on a couple of the Fieldtown dances and get them tidied up. Then we had a two hour lunch break which included a much needed relax in the pub. After lunch was one of my favourite traditions, Bampton, and I reckon I have three jigs from there which, with a little more practice I could dance out. Following that was the nightmare that was Sherborne -- a great tradition, but massively different from the others I know (it has its own stepping style), so I spent most of the time tripping over my shoelaces. All that done, we got cleaned up, into our proper dancing kit and settled in for the evening's feast -- a top notch meal which set us up nicely for another long night at the pub which this time also included a few set dances, which is always fun when in a very crowded pub where there's barely room to stand, let alone dance!

Sunday... The last lap, with workshops in Oddington (in which I have a little experience) and Headington (of which I have none). Then a quick reprise session where we had a chance to dance through one jig from each tradition. And finally lunch and home.

So, one hell of a weekend. I learnt a lot, and now know of a lot more stuff I want to learn, plus a few new friends. Hopefully I'll be able to go back again next year, but for now... Well, 48 hours after finishing dancing I am almost starting to feel human again.

Dancing the Icknield Way

OK, so this post is long overdue, but better late than never, eh?

So, on 5th September 2009, twenty-odd members of Icknield Way Morris Men rounded off the celebrations of their 50th anniversary year by dancing along 50 miles of the Icknield Way, starting at Ivinghoe Beacon, ending at Wantage, and with twelve intermediate stops (not all of which were at pubs!). We didn't walk the whole way (that would have killed us!) but we made it, all in one day.

The weekend actually started with a trip up to Wilstone on Friday evening (via a chippy in Tring), where we stayed in the village hall -- and had a great session in the local pub, along with men from the local Whitchurch Morris, who were great hosts (and a couple of their men turned out at a couple of our spots along the tour). The evening finished off, probably ill-advisedly, with a few of us having a dance practice (Glorishears, Bledington and Queen's Delight, Bucknell) in the village hall kitchen, fueled by a polypin of Bob which had magically appeared.

A little the worse for wear, we arrived at the car park by Ivinghoe Beacon and started dancing at 08:45 the next morning. It was nice to be met there by a fella from another side (sorry, I can't for the life of me remember which side) in full kit, who joined in with one of our dances. From then on it was a punishing schedule.

Spots were danced at Tring, Wendover (with a side from Aldbury Morris Men), Princes Risborough (including a chance encounter with a visiting morris man), Bledlow, Lewknor (for a nice ploughman's lunch and a parachute display), Watlington (where we seemed to be the only living things), Ewelme, South Stoke, Goring (for tea with the Kennett Morris Men), Blewbury, and East Hendred before finally rolling in to Wantage at about 19:45. One last spell of dancing and it was in to the King Alfred's Head for dinner with the WAGs.

After food and the obligatory speeches, everyone was absolutely shattered, so unusually for the team there were no songs and tunes. Just some quiet conversation for a while before staggering home to bed.

A great day, which I wouldn't have missed for the world, but I think few of us want to do it again in a hurry!

Hankies at Dawn

So a couple of weeks back I went to my first ale of the year, hosted by the Kennet Morris Men, who organised a stomping evening of pickles, ale, chili, dancing and singing. There was a decent contingent of our side, despite which, I (of all people) was elected to sing on behalf of the side after dinner (the standard etiquette is that each side who has a reasonable turnout provides a song). It all went pretty well apart from me forgetting an entire verse. I don't think many people noticed.

Anyway, the picture is from a massed dance (ales generally involve alternating between one side showing off and massed dances where everyone who wants to gets up and you end up with sets made up of men from mixed sides, which can prove amusing) of Queen's Delight (Bucknell). Now, my first thought on this photo was that I must have been on the wrong foot as I should have been on the same foot as my partner (who is a lot more experienced than I am), but seeing the guys in the next set are also on their left foot, perhaps I was doing it right after all!

Which one of you is Morris?

Okay, so this is last week's news, but the Morris Ring, one of the three umbrella organisations for morris dancing, has been proclaiming the imminent demise of morris (see BBC News). It seems that the morris is too embarassing for youngsters, so they don't join in, leaving only old farts who will all be dead soon.

I don't know what the intention of the Ring was with this, I suspect they were trying to stir up interest, but it does make them sound distinctly out of touch. If you go to the website of the side I dance for, Icknield Way and look through the info on the side you will see quite a lot of young dancers. Much of this is due to the fact that the side works with a local scout troup every few years to train up some of their lads, and some of these go on to stay dancing with the main team. And morris can be pretty spectacular when danced by an enthusiastic, energetic, young side.

Of course, our side (and many others, by the sound of it) took this bit of publicity as a golden opportunity to get the local media in and let them know that we are a long way from dying out. Our practice session last week was visited by a photographer from a local paper (I haven't seen the article for that yet) and a fella from a local radio station (listen here), who we had a lot of fun getting involved and showing off to.

The prognosis? Well, I reckon we're not going away yet.

The Strangest Plum Puddings That Ever Have Been

Last night I played harmonica solo for a morris dance for the first time ever. OK, so it was during a practice session, but a first is a first. This was the Black Joke from Adderbury, a tune I know pretty well and have played plenty of times at home, or in sessions, and even tootling alongside other musicians for dancing, but solo was a whole new experience.

I had to learn to start properly: for many dances you can just play the tune through a few times and the dancers will come in when they are ready, but as is the case with most Adderbury dances, this music starts with a big chord and then we're straight in with a swagger round. After some advice from the other musicians (who were all dancing) I finally got it right and, apart from a bit of a stumble (which the guys gamely danced through) I think things went OK. We got through the dance, anyway.

Our new squire is keen to add some variety into the side, so I suspect now I've been blooded I'll be asked to play more often. We'll see how things go.

The Bells, The Bells...

I reckon it's now official: I am a morris man! Saturday saw my first real dance out, first at a local museum and afterwards at a pub in one of the nearby villages.

Somewhere on this page you should see photographic proof of this, as you see part of the set that was dancing the Ring o' Bells from Litchfield. I'm the one on the right with the serious face as I realise that with not one but two sticks, a cock-up here could be quite spectacular. Next to me you see the face of the guy who faced me in the sticking routines and has his eyes shut as he tries to shut out the terror of trying to avoid having his knuckles smashed by the novice opposite him.

You'll be pleased to know that we both survived and later on I actually started to relax and enjoy myself a bit.

Anglos and Ales

Fun over the last few days...

On Saturday I had my first trip out with the morris side to the Icknield Ale. Basically, an ale is a get-together for morris dancers, where there is much dancing, eating, singing and, of course, drinking of ale. Many morris teams host one, generally during the "off-season" and this was the one we hosted. There were nearly 100 men from something over a dozen teams and it was a cracking night. I even ended up dancing sets from a tradition I had not even heard of before, let alone danced. I'm still recovering.

Then on Monday, the Youngling and I went to Oxford and I bought myself a new toy: a Rochelle 30-key, C/G Anglo concertina. So far I haven't had much time playing it, but I'm managing to get a few hesitant tunes out of it. I've been eyeing up this type of concertina for some time (it is widely reckoned to be the best beginner Anglo available, and probably would be at double the price), but finally took the plunge and made the purchase after receiving some money courtesy of my recently departed (and much missed) grandfather, along with the instructions to spend some of it frivolously. I'm not sure that buying a musical instrument is the most frivolous thing I could have done, but from now on the instrument will always be a reminder of Gramp, and should give years of enjoyment, which I think is in the appropriate spirit.

One More Couple, Please

Last night <3 and I got out for one of our rare nights out thanks to one of her friends stepping up for babysitting duty. So we pottered off to Grove for a ceilidh organised by White Horse Ceilidhs. These guys organise half a dozen or so ceilidhs each year and the one we had been to previously was great fun, so a return visit was always on the cards.

This time was every bit as good as last time. The band was Boldwood, who specialise in playing tunes found in C18th manuscripts, and are effective proof that the modern era does not have the monopoly on great dance tunes. We came home with a copy of their CD, which is a really nice listen. I'm going to have to see if I can learn a tune or two off there. The caller was Will Hall, a chap who occasionally attends our local pub sessions and who has proved a great help to me in getting used to learning and playing folk tunes, and who is a lot of fun to play with, even with my very limited skills and repertoire. Anyway, this was the first time I've seen Will call a dance, and I really enjoyed it: his choice of dances was a lot of fun and he had a great, gentle presentation style. (I don't have much to compare with, being pretty new to ceilidhs, but he's definitely good.) Half-time entertainment was courtesy of the energetic and enjoyable Borders morris side, Armaleggan, who did a great, manic show full of sound and fury.

So, we danced to the point of exhaustion, we chatted, and we won a big box of fudge in the raffle. All good. Time to decide when we can next make it...

English Folk Culture Is Not Dead (it just smells a bit)

Friday night was session night down at the "Abby" and saw me experiencing a few firsts. I actually managed to play both of the first two tunes that were started (and, of course, a load more later too) for the first time ever. To enhance this, I don't know the name of the second of these: I must have known this at some point, but on Friday I just played along and was lefte wondering what the tune was. I count this as a (slightly) positive thing! I even managed to start a set while there were still a good few musicians around. Oh, and not so good, I made myself look a bit of a dick by misreading the others during a reel that is often played slowish and then speeded up: I thought that a couple of the others were "kicking off" so upped my tempo only to be left playing far too quickly for a couple of bars. Oops. It was all laughed off afterwards and I don't think half of the people there even noticed.

On Saturday, thanks to a visit from the M-in-L (and the handy babysitting), <3 and I went off to a local ceilidh, which was a hoot. We've been meaning to go to one of these for ages (and I am constantly being badgered by one of the organisers at the pub sessions), so finally we got there. This was a great, informal and very friendly do at a local village hall with reasonable bar prices (and decent beer!) plus a nice format of two set dances in a row, followed by a break, then a couple more dances. The evening was also broken by a display from a local morris side, which provided a good, extended breath-catching opportunity. I'm a real klutz at this sort of stuff, but over the evening a couple of the regular ladies taught me a few of the less-obvious moves, and I think <3 picked up quite a bit too — I'm ashamed to say she danced more than I did this time. We will definitely be going again, though we'll be off at a wedding at the time of the next one.