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.
Showing posts with label Events. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Events. Show all posts
Tuesday, 11 March 2014
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.
Wednesday, 11 September 2013
On Small and Informal Events
The diversity of the SCA means that there is a great spectrum of events, from the exquisite formal Crown events, where the finest garb and arts may be shown off to great effect, to the intimate, informal events, with a much more relaxed feel. The bigger events tend to get a lot more of the attention (as is natural), but there is great value to the smaller events that is sometimes overlooked.
What does a small event bring to the SCA? There are several things which can be brought forth from such situations, including a very different feel bigger from the larger events (with several benefits), and a wonderful opportunity for training people in the various roles.
A small, informal event has a very different feel from the larger, more formal events. While formal events let us show off the best of our works, the expectation of being at our best can make the preparations somewhat more involved. Given this, and the more regulated schedules that are necessary when there are multiple things to get done, mean that an informal event can have a much more relaxed atmosphere.
One of the effects of this more reduced atmosphere is that, for new members, it can make those in authority (such as the local Baron and Baroness) more approachable than they would be at a formal event.
The team required for a formal event includes a large number of roles, including steward, kitchen crew, heralds, listkeepers, gate staff, and more. An experienced crew can help to induct inexperienced members into these, but at a formal event, there can be the impression that it's too hard to start out. Those who've been running events for longer than a Collegian has been alive make it look almost effortless. At an informal event, it can be less intimidating, and if the group's culture has a focus of encouraging people to "have a go" at their smaller events, it can build a skills base among the populace.
Take the example of the Politarchopolis Baronial Sunday for a training occurrence. The steward's job is made simpler and less intimidating, as the hall is already arranged, no kitchen crew is required as it's a pot-luck event, and being a theoretically-monthly event, there is at least a small group who can be reasonably expected to be in attendance every month. If a tourney runs, the list-keeping and field heraldry jobs will be available, and with nothing particularly at stake, it's less nerve-wracking than it otherwise might be (heralds are particularly guilty of deep-end training: I've seen people use Crown Tourney as their first field heraldry experience). The regular constables can have their numbers boosted by those who wish to train as gate keepers. As for the kitchen crew training, a pot-luck feast is a great way to build some experience with cooking period recipes, and gives a captive and willing testing audience for new recipes.
One of the inevitable effects of being good at running events is being asked to do so more often. This can be stressful, and possibly lead to a particular crew becoming burned out from the load. By training more people to help, it can spread the load about and decrease burnout.
Finally, by having a good collection of smaller informal events, interspersed around the larger formal events, there are more opportunities to get into garb, and enjoy an event, without the massive increase of workload on event crews as having such regularly-occuring events on the formal scale. More activity is good.
What does a small event bring to the SCA? There are several things which can be brought forth from such situations, including a very different feel bigger from the larger events (with several benefits), and a wonderful opportunity for training people in the various roles.
A small, informal event has a very different feel from the larger, more formal events. While formal events let us show off the best of our works, the expectation of being at our best can make the preparations somewhat more involved. Given this, and the more regulated schedules that are necessary when there are multiple things to get done, mean that an informal event can have a much more relaxed atmosphere.
One of the effects of this more reduced atmosphere is that, for new members, it can make those in authority (such as the local Baron and Baroness) more approachable than they would be at a formal event.
The team required for a formal event includes a large number of roles, including steward, kitchen crew, heralds, listkeepers, gate staff, and more. An experienced crew can help to induct inexperienced members into these, but at a formal event, there can be the impression that it's too hard to start out. Those who've been running events for longer than a Collegian has been alive make it look almost effortless. At an informal event, it can be less intimidating, and if the group's culture has a focus of encouraging people to "have a go" at their smaller events, it can build a skills base among the populace.
Take the example of the Politarchopolis Baronial Sunday for a training occurrence. The steward's job is made simpler and less intimidating, as the hall is already arranged, no kitchen crew is required as it's a pot-luck event, and being a theoretically-monthly event, there is at least a small group who can be reasonably expected to be in attendance every month. If a tourney runs, the list-keeping and field heraldry jobs will be available, and with nothing particularly at stake, it's less nerve-wracking than it otherwise might be (heralds are particularly guilty of deep-end training: I've seen people use Crown Tourney as their first field heraldry experience). The regular constables can have their numbers boosted by those who wish to train as gate keepers. As for the kitchen crew training, a pot-luck feast is a great way to build some experience with cooking period recipes, and gives a captive and willing testing audience for new recipes.
One of the inevitable effects of being good at running events is being asked to do so more often. This can be stressful, and possibly lead to a particular crew becoming burned out from the load. By training more people to help, it can spread the load about and decrease burnout.
Finally, by having a good collection of smaller informal events, interspersed around the larger formal events, there are more opportunities to get into garb, and enjoy an event, without the massive increase of workload on event crews as having such regularly-occuring events on the formal scale. More activity is good.
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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