Some time ago, I posted about my hopes for the Book of La being polished and placed online. This has finally happened! It now has its own page on this very blog, even.
And now that the College War XVIII edition, past its second birthday, has finally had the typos and formatting errors corrected, I turn my gaze to the next edition. I shall be seeking out more songs to add to it, and I think a complete revision of the style of the work is in order. I may even me adding some songs of my own, if things go well.
Watch this space (and poke me if I take too long - shiny baubles may get in the way).
Showing posts with label Entertainment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Entertainment. Show all posts
Wednesday, 20 August 2014
Tuesday, 11 March 2014
On the Importance of Bardic Icebreakers
We've just had our local Newcomers' Feast (timed to be a few weeks after the university year begins, to welcome new Collegians to the SCA), and it was quite excellently filled with bardic endeavours of multiple kinds. A thought occurred to me on a critical factor in this, that I would like to explore somewhat today.
One of the factors in getting the bardic things happening at the feast - of which there were multitudes, from instruments and dance, to juggling, to song, to storytelling, to poetry (okay, a silly poem about a Seussical viking's dietary preferences, but a poem none the less) - was the first few people.
Most of the entertainments were of the "performance to the hall" variety, rather than entertaining the few people at their own table, and being the first one to get up, take everyone's attention, and begin with that is something that many people aren't comfortable with. I know I certainly am not - and that's speaking as a field and court herald of some experience. But, once the solo singing (with group participation on the chorus) had been started, I was actually comfortable enough to take the hall's attention for myself.
I can't speak for the others who put themselves in the centre of attention, but I've certainly noticed that it's the same few people who usually start things off - and to them, I'm rather grateful.
As for what I take from this... I've decided that being one of those people is a worthy goal for myself. I love bardic endeavours of all kinds, provided they're done well, and I certainly look forward to expanding my repertoire (I think learning at least two or three period (or period-plausible) stories should be my next step - songs I know in plenty), but those events where nobody starts things... well, if nobody starts it, nobody can continue it.
The trick there is in the ability to read the mood of the room. Is this feast one where people would like someone to perform for them? Do they want a short song or a long story? Additionally... do I have the ability to put them in a good mood about bardic things? I've seen the effects a story told less than expertly (and of much too great a duration) can have on the mood in a hall - the only entertainment on that occasion was sitting across from someone with his back to the speaker, whose facial expressions contained a less-subtle expression of my opinions of the story, and were comedically exaggerated. At that feast, despite the ice being nominally broken, nobody seemed particularly keen to take to the water (perhaps I should stop stretching this metaphor).
So, that leaves me with a goal of having both the confidence and the performance ability to be a bardic icebreaker for feasts... Watch this space, it may be some time.
One of the factors in getting the bardic things happening at the feast - of which there were multitudes, from instruments and dance, to juggling, to song, to storytelling, to poetry (okay, a silly poem about a Seussical viking's dietary preferences, but a poem none the less) - was the first few people.
Most of the entertainments were of the "performance to the hall" variety, rather than entertaining the few people at their own table, and being the first one to get up, take everyone's attention, and begin with that is something that many people aren't comfortable with. I know I certainly am not - and that's speaking as a field and court herald of some experience. But, once the solo singing (with group participation on the chorus) had been started, I was actually comfortable enough to take the hall's attention for myself.
I can't speak for the others who put themselves in the centre of attention, but I've certainly noticed that it's the same few people who usually start things off - and to them, I'm rather grateful.
As for what I take from this... I've decided that being one of those people is a worthy goal for myself. I love bardic endeavours of all kinds, provided they're done well, and I certainly look forward to expanding my repertoire (I think learning at least two or three period (or period-plausible) stories should be my next step - songs I know in plenty), but those events where nobody starts things... well, if nobody starts it, nobody can continue it.
The trick there is in the ability to read the mood of the room. Is this feast one where people would like someone to perform for them? Do they want a short song or a long story? Additionally... do I have the ability to put them in a good mood about bardic things? I've seen the effects a story told less than expertly (and of much too great a duration) can have on the mood in a hall - the only entertainment on that occasion was sitting across from someone with his back to the speaker, whose facial expressions contained a less-subtle expression of my opinions of the story, and were comedically exaggerated. At that feast, despite the ice being nominally broken, nobody seemed particularly keen to take to the water (perhaps I should stop stretching this metaphor).
So, that leaves me with a goal of having both the confidence and the performance ability to be a bardic icebreaker for feasts... Watch this space, it may be some time.
Wednesday, 18 December 2013
On Project Plans: The Book of La
My previous book-related project (still somewhat ongoing) is the Book of La, a music book for bardic occasions. The first version has already been... I won't say finished, but released into the wild perhaps? But it certainly won't be the last.
The Book of La started at the College of St Aldhelm, after we developed the habit of singing at the pub after our weekly meetings. Initially, we were using the very fine The Known Words, but the problem we encountered in that environment specifically was that with so many inexperienced members of the SCA, many of the songs we would otherwise love to have sung weren't known to most (or even any), and songs are quite difficult to sing without tunes.
The solution I hit upon was to make our own book, with those favourites of ours, with the tunes included, and some other songs we thought would add to the experience, including several of the College's songs. The result was the College of St Aldhelm Book of La (College War XVIII Edition), which was put into print with funding from the College, and given out at the College War event we hosted that year. It was a reasonable success, and only a few heartbreakingly-obvious typos to point out...
My current place with the project is to fix up the errors, polish the product, and give the College a version to put on their website. That's nearly done, but I'm easily distracted, as this blog may be taken as testament to.
After that, my plans are to expand on the Book of La with more songs, as best as I'm able to find tunes for (which is really the difficulty). It may take some time before the next edition is ready, but that's inevitable.
As I'm withdrawing from the College to allow the next generation to make it their own, I had to decide whether to pass the Book of La on to the next Seneschal to improve, or keep it as a project of my own. Considering the varying workloads required of students, and the specialised techniques that went into its creation, and I freely admit a decent level of emotional involvement, I've decided to carry the Book of La project myself, removing the College labels from the next edition (though I'll keep the College of St Aldhelm songs in there... perhaps I ought gather some songs from the other Colleges around Lochac, too, for balance).
The Book of La itself is largely presented in a modern style, with modern sheet music, for the sake of readability and usability. It's in a somewhat large-print format, so that it can be read by candlelight or firelight in a bardic setting, or printed at half-scale for portability.
The Book of La started at the College of St Aldhelm, after we developed the habit of singing at the pub after our weekly meetings. Initially, we were using the very fine The Known Words, but the problem we encountered in that environment specifically was that with so many inexperienced members of the SCA, many of the songs we would otherwise love to have sung weren't known to most (or even any), and songs are quite difficult to sing without tunes.
The solution I hit upon was to make our own book, with those favourites of ours, with the tunes included, and some other songs we thought would add to the experience, including several of the College's songs. The result was the College of St Aldhelm Book of La (College War XVIII Edition), which was put into print with funding from the College, and given out at the College War event we hosted that year. It was a reasonable success, and only a few heartbreakingly-obvious typos to point out...
My current place with the project is to fix up the errors, polish the product, and give the College a version to put on their website. That's nearly done, but I'm easily distracted, as this blog may be taken as testament to.
After that, my plans are to expand on the Book of La with more songs, as best as I'm able to find tunes for (which is really the difficulty). It may take some time before the next edition is ready, but that's inevitable.
As I'm withdrawing from the College to allow the next generation to make it their own, I had to decide whether to pass the Book of La on to the next Seneschal to improve, or keep it as a project of my own. Considering the varying workloads required of students, and the specialised techniques that went into its creation, and I freely admit a decent level of emotional involvement, I've decided to carry the Book of La project myself, removing the College labels from the next edition (though I'll keep the College of St Aldhelm songs in there... perhaps I ought gather some songs from the other Colleges around Lochac, too, for balance).
The Book of La itself is largely presented in a modern style, with modern sheet music, for the sake of readability and usability. It's in a somewhat large-print format, so that it can be read by candlelight or firelight in a bardic setting, or printed at half-scale for portability.
Wednesday, 25 September 2013
On Adapting Modern Stories
Previously, I have spoken on the subject of entertainment at events, and in particular mentioned that modern stories can be adapted for telling at events, with a few (relatively minor) changes. There are often many stories which seem to be impossible to tell without their modern details, but almost always, this is not so, it just requires some care.
Let us take the example of speaking of an interesting morning before the feast you are now attending. For a modern audience, you may mention speaking to your sister on the phone, driving to various shops before driving to the event, with some car troubles on the way (let us say a blown tyre). The phone, the car, and other such small details, can all seem rather pivotal to the story, but it isn't so. Speaking to your sister is possible without the phone, just so long as you also don't mention how far away they currently are. Likewise with the car, what is important to the story is that you travelled, not how, so just leaving out that it was a car will do. Period wagons often had wheel troubles, and a cracked wagon wheel may be quite like a blown car tyre.
Most of the modern details of such anecdotes are really a sideline to the real action, and can usually be left out. For those which absolutely can't? Perhaps this is not a story that needs telling at an event. For example, if you are a computer technician, and there was a particularly engrossing problem which required your attention, you may either discuss it in general terms and focus on your frustrations, or leave the story for another time.
One thing I would beg you to avoid, however, are those gross circumlocutions which are more appropriate for a fantasy novel or LARP. If you would avoid the word "toilet", then "privy" is acceptable (some period English alternatives are "Jakes" - the predecessor to "John" I suppose - and "House of Easement" - which sounds downright relaxing). Please avoid "the Shrine of Our Lady of the Swirling Waters". Likewise, "car" may be replaced with "wain" or "wagon", but never "dragon".
Let us take the example of speaking of an interesting morning before the feast you are now attending. For a modern audience, you may mention speaking to your sister on the phone, driving to various shops before driving to the event, with some car troubles on the way (let us say a blown tyre). The phone, the car, and other such small details, can all seem rather pivotal to the story, but it isn't so. Speaking to your sister is possible without the phone, just so long as you also don't mention how far away they currently are. Likewise with the car, what is important to the story is that you travelled, not how, so just leaving out that it was a car will do. Period wagons often had wheel troubles, and a cracked wagon wheel may be quite like a blown car tyre.
Most of the modern details of such anecdotes are really a sideline to the real action, and can usually be left out. For those which absolutely can't? Perhaps this is not a story that needs telling at an event. For example, if you are a computer technician, and there was a particularly engrossing problem which required your attention, you may either discuss it in general terms and focus on your frustrations, or leave the story for another time.
One thing I would beg you to avoid, however, are those gross circumlocutions which are more appropriate for a fantasy novel or LARP. If you would avoid the word "toilet", then "privy" is acceptable (some period English alternatives are "Jakes" - the predecessor to "John" I suppose - and "House of Easement" - which sounds downright relaxing). Please avoid "the Shrine of Our Lady of the Swirling Waters". Likewise, "car" may be replaced with "wain" or "wagon", but never "dragon".
Wednesday, 18 September 2013
On Entertainment at Feasts
In the modern world, when an event is held, the organisers may well be expected to provide the various entertainments that will keep the attendees from growing restive. This receptive form of entertainment is a rather new development, caused by the radio and television infiltrating our homes.
Until the 20th century, the evening's entertainment could logically by expected to spring from those around you, and from you to them, and this is the model most often followed by SCA events. There are of course exceptions, such as theatrical performances planned and presented, or dance events (though even this is debatable, for the performers in these situations will be your fellow SCAdians).
"But," I hear you cry (in my imagination and for sake of illustrating the point), "I can't sing or dance or tell stories! How am I supposed to entertain?" This hypothetical objection is understandable, but not insurmountable. For one, if you insist that you can't do something, and never do it, then you shall never learn how. Also, there are a diverse range of ways to make your evening, and that of those around you, more interesting.
The obvious entertainments which may be engaged are the performing arts. Singing, playing instruments, telling poems or stories (and with so much of period art, the line between these is blurred). All of these take some practice, and some preparation, but the level of skill required to improve the feel of an event is not as high as you might thing. If you have some minor proficiency in an instrument (such as being able to play it without unpleasant screeching), then take a small book of simple period tunes, find somewhere slightly out of the way, and practice. You don't need to draw a crowd, but some background notes can improve the feeling of the hall, and your own confidence will build as you play in company more often.
One thing to remember is to match your entertainments to the feel of the event in general. A beautiful Elizabethan madrigal will feel somewhat out of place at a rowdy Viking revel, as much as a bawdy Elizabethan popular song (and believe me, they exist) will be out of place at a stately high-court event.
As for the bard's art of reading poems and weaving tales, it is perhaps better to consider that you don't need to perform for the whole hall, just those few around you. A short quip in conversation, or fond recollections of the past, can soon give way to longer stories and the like, and those who wish to listen will come to you, rather than feeling like you've imposed yourself on the whole room.
You may find that it is useful to carry a small selection of stories, written in a handy form to remind you if your memory slips (unless you should choose to dedicate the years of work that a period bard would spend learning their various sagas and tales). And these need not be all written in period, many modern tales can be adapted by removing or modifying a few simple details.
Beyond the performing arts, there are a number of ways to entertain those around you. The simplest of these, and often the most engrossing, is through games. There are a great many boardgames, from the simple such as Glückhaus (roll two dice, do something with the numbered square they say), to the strategic such as Nine Men's Morris, to the complex such as Chess. There are diverse dice games, most all of them designed to be gambled over, and card games (both using an early form of the modern deck, or the original form of the Tarot deck (yes, it was for gambling with)).
If you mean to gamble, it is a good idea to bring a supply of tokens, such as small glass pebbles, so that people aren't gambling for real money (this has legal implications, and can cause rather unfortunate fallings out).
Games are often simple to make, or easy to buy, and a travel set of one or two games, stowed in your basket or bag, is a fine way to stave off silence, as during the lulls in the conversation, the game itself may be discussed.
Until the 20th century, the evening's entertainment could logically by expected to spring from those around you, and from you to them, and this is the model most often followed by SCA events. There are of course exceptions, such as theatrical performances planned and presented, or dance events (though even this is debatable, for the performers in these situations will be your fellow SCAdians).
"But," I hear you cry (in my imagination and for sake of illustrating the point), "I can't sing or dance or tell stories! How am I supposed to entertain?" This hypothetical objection is understandable, but not insurmountable. For one, if you insist that you can't do something, and never do it, then you shall never learn how. Also, there are a diverse range of ways to make your evening, and that of those around you, more interesting.
The obvious entertainments which may be engaged are the performing arts. Singing, playing instruments, telling poems or stories (and with so much of period art, the line between these is blurred). All of these take some practice, and some preparation, but the level of skill required to improve the feel of an event is not as high as you might thing. If you have some minor proficiency in an instrument (such as being able to play it without unpleasant screeching), then take a small book of simple period tunes, find somewhere slightly out of the way, and practice. You don't need to draw a crowd, but some background notes can improve the feeling of the hall, and your own confidence will build as you play in company more often.
One thing to remember is to match your entertainments to the feel of the event in general. A beautiful Elizabethan madrigal will feel somewhat out of place at a rowdy Viking revel, as much as a bawdy Elizabethan popular song (and believe me, they exist) will be out of place at a stately high-court event.
As for the bard's art of reading poems and weaving tales, it is perhaps better to consider that you don't need to perform for the whole hall, just those few around you. A short quip in conversation, or fond recollections of the past, can soon give way to longer stories and the like, and those who wish to listen will come to you, rather than feeling like you've imposed yourself on the whole room.
You may find that it is useful to carry a small selection of stories, written in a handy form to remind you if your memory slips (unless you should choose to dedicate the years of work that a period bard would spend learning their various sagas and tales). And these need not be all written in period, many modern tales can be adapted by removing or modifying a few simple details.
Beyond the performing arts, there are a number of ways to entertain those around you. The simplest of these, and often the most engrossing, is through games. There are a great many boardgames, from the simple such as Glückhaus (roll two dice, do something with the numbered square they say), to the strategic such as Nine Men's Morris, to the complex such as Chess. There are diverse dice games, most all of them designed to be gambled over, and card games (both using an early form of the modern deck, or the original form of the Tarot deck (yes, it was for gambling with)).
If you mean to gamble, it is a good idea to bring a supply of tokens, such as small glass pebbles, so that people aren't gambling for real money (this has legal implications, and can cause rather unfortunate fallings out).
Games are often simple to make, or easy to buy, and a travel set of one or two games, stowed in your basket or bag, is a fine way to stave off silence, as during the lulls in the conversation, the game itself may be discussed.
Sunday, 8 September 2013
On My First Ensemble Experience
This weekend, I had the distinct pleasure to attend the St Vitas Dance and Music Weekend in Politarchopolis. This is the third time I've attended this fine event (every year since I joined the Society), and every year brings some new learning and some new experiences. This year's fancy new learning was some excellent breathing technique advice for singing and wind instruments, but the new experience for this year's St Vitas is what I'd like to talk about with today's post.
During the course of Saturday, there were various occasions where the people in the music classes brought out their recorders, for various reasons, and luckily I had also brought my cheap little descant recorder along. When the "Ball Music Practice" session came up, I timidly admitted that I might be able to play a few of the simpler dances with them. They were kind, they were welcoming, they... encouraged me to practice the easier line in whatever they were practising.
I was somewhat intimidated by the prospect, but tried my best. I'd never played in a recorder ensemble (or in any ensemble, other than one concert in year 6. I rocked that glockenspiel) at any level, and going straight into a public performance with it was rather daunting. I'd also never played for dancers, which also changed things rather dramatically. I will freely admit, I was barely keeping up (if at all) while we practised. But, when the ball started, I decided that I would make my seat with the musicians, and at least try for most of the songs.
There were a lot of missed notes, a decent amount of wrong notes, and a fair few songs where I couldn't keep up and had to drop out, but the feeling of being surrounded by excellent musicians, and feeling like I was at least earning my seat in the middle of them was, quite literally, euphoric. I was rather nervous at places, especially the few times when I found myself holding the main melody line on my own while the more experienced players played the bottom lines, but it all seemed to work out reasonably well, and all of my slip-ups and drop-outs were covered by the others.
I left the ball with a lot more confidence in my abilities, and a lot more drive to practice and play the recorder, and a rather fat folder full of sheet music, as much as I'll ever require for almost any ball, and also a deep gratitude for everyone who helped me through my first time playing in an ensemble.
If only I'd thought ahead and gotten contact details for them...
During the course of Saturday, there were various occasions where the people in the music classes brought out their recorders, for various reasons, and luckily I had also brought my cheap little descant recorder along. When the "Ball Music Practice" session came up, I timidly admitted that I might be able to play a few of the simpler dances with them. They were kind, they were welcoming, they... encouraged me to practice the easier line in whatever they were practising.
I was somewhat intimidated by the prospect, but tried my best. I'd never played in a recorder ensemble (or in any ensemble, other than one concert in year 6. I rocked that glockenspiel) at any level, and going straight into a public performance with it was rather daunting. I'd also never played for dancers, which also changed things rather dramatically. I will freely admit, I was barely keeping up (if at all) while we practised. But, when the ball started, I decided that I would make my seat with the musicians, and at least try for most of the songs.
There were a lot of missed notes, a decent amount of wrong notes, and a fair few songs where I couldn't keep up and had to drop out, but the feeling of being surrounded by excellent musicians, and feeling like I was at least earning my seat in the middle of them was, quite literally, euphoric. I was rather nervous at places, especially the few times when I found myself holding the main melody line on my own while the more experienced players played the bottom lines, but it all seemed to work out reasonably well, and all of my slip-ups and drop-outs were covered by the others.
I left the ball with a lot more confidence in my abilities, and a lot more drive to practice and play the recorder, and a rather fat folder full of sheet music, as much as I'll ever require for almost any ball, and also a deep gratitude for everyone who helped me through my first time playing in an ensemble.
If only I'd thought ahead and gotten contact details for them...
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