When the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie!
It was time for me to get off my throne and I don’t mean the porcelain kind. I had the honor of running and judging this years Provincial Bard competition for Malagentia. From the few years I have been entering competitions for Bardic, I learned what I wanted and didn’t want in a local competition. I had been working to build a bardic community wherever I go because my heart aches when I hear people say, “I’m not good enough… I can’t follow HER…. Bardic is hard. This does not make a safe environment for performers. It’s hard enough to get up in front of folks, especially when you never did it professionally or even semi professionally.
This year I made a rubric. It included the following categories:
Were you prepared?
Did you perform well?
Can you be heard?
How well did you know your piece?
Did you fit the theme?
Did the audience enjoy your piece?
Did you provide documentation?
How detailed was your documentation?
I also had a theme “Home is where the hearth is”. I figured it would be a nice and creative way to see how the competitors would deal with it. Also, how they would introduce their pieces and explain how their piece fit into the theme. In addition, the competitors would perform 2 pieces in contrasting styles, 1 piece must be period and documentation is required. This would tie into the SCA as but leave enough leniency that it would be fun.
Before the performances began, our Senechal (Who was one of the 3 additional judges I had asked to help with the judging) interjected for a moment. I couldn’t imagine what she needed to announce, but who was I to say no to this amazing lady. I was bestowed the very first provincial honor for Arts and Sciences for my work in the Bardic field. I was surprised and honored to receive… well, this honor! It was only the very first because I needed to leave early to head to a wedding so I was not able to attend the closing ceremonies where it should have been awarded.
On to the performances! We had 4 incredible performers. All of them were not only incredible performers in all their own ways, but they were also all skilled in a martial activity as well. There were two heavy combat fighters and 2 fencers. I am proud to say I have fought and fenced with each of them. On top of these skilled performers, we had an exceptional young lady perform to compete for the youth bard. I had decided this year to include this category. I find that we cannot support the arts just as adults, we need to hone their skills at an early age. It’s true what they say, the youth are our future.
The deliberating was difficult. Each was unique and powerful. I was blessed to have the judges I had picked along side me to help me pick. I didn’t want anyone to feel like they weren’t good enough. I had asked each of the judges to talk to all of the individuals privately and provide feedback. I didn’t want critiques, I wanted positive reinforcement. One of the largest lessons I have been learning in life is that you never provide unwarranted feedback or feedback that wasn’t asked for be the individual. I sent my words with the other judges and I also reached out to each of them after to let them know where their strong points were and encouraged them to keep shining like the jewels they are. Though, if someone told me that I’d reply, “ I’m volcanic ash! I don’t shine”
You must not under any pretense allow your mind (Harp). To dwell on any thought that is not positive, constructive, optimistic, kind. -Emmet Fox
I think this should be the mantra I focus on. It’s always tough when you put your heart and soul into something and then have your spirit crushed by not obtaining that goal.
This year was a new year to push myself . To try something new. This year I brought new repertoire. These pieces had never been performed by me for the public. This year’s repertoire choices were very personal and close to my heart as well.
Saturday I spent the day fencing, teaching, reveling in good friends and company. What did you teach, Lady Solveig? I taught what’s called a “Master Class”. This class is a safe place workshop where you bring a piece you are polishing or a piece you want to improve on. The format is generally you perform your entire piece all the way through and then you do it again, section by section. Suggestions are made about your performance and how to improve it. This was my first time performing this outside of an academic setting and I was overwhelmed to have three students attend. All of them brought difference pieces and styles to the table. I say overwhelmed in a good way. I never know how performers feel about being critiqued. Not everyone takes criticism well and even when they ask for it, it can rub them the wrong way. This was a great exercise for me in providing feedback but also serving as a bardic mentor for those who were older, same and younger than I was. I monitored body language very closely to make sure what I was providing was well received. When the class was over, I was thanked by the students and was told by two of them that they were now going to compete with these pieces for Baronial Bard and the third was just going to get up and perform for the open mic section. I couldn’t be prouder. I felt like a mama bird, proud that her kiddos are getting kicked out of the nest…. her… viking nest. With spears and fire.
I had set up, ahead of time, for an accompanist to help me with a piece. A few weeks prior, for personal reasons, he had to decline. Luckily, I am surrounded by amazing musicians in my life and another rose from the mist. I went to go rehearse with her but found out she had broken her foot the night before. In addition, she may have injured her wrist (Insert a chain of explicates and rapid swearing/heart beat) Oh wait! Another friend… can you play a thing? Maybe? No. Crap. oh hey, other friend (#4) yeah, I can play violin and make this work if your guitarist can’t. (Like watching the Bob Ross reruns on twitch where he throws a blob of paint on the painting and you think its ruined? Nope.… SAVED!). We made this work. Awesome.
After the class was over I rushed to get ready for feast and the bardic competition that night. “Ooooo girl, you so fancy!” I would jest with my friend, Ollala, that I was “Installing my weave”. I was quickly corrected that it was not a weave, because they were not sewn in and they were just extensions. I pushed that button a lot over the next few hours. After all, what is a Skald without harassing their good friends.
I made my way over to feast in my finest raizing garb, head weighing a few pounds more, thanks to the extensions and beads. I promise, my head was not full of hot air… that would have made this so much easier to walk. I followed up with a few of my friends whom I knew were competing, and I made sure to speak to them and encourage them. One, specifically said they weren’t even sure if they were going to complete. I did my best to encourage them and even walked over with them to sign up. The rest was all feast and a blur until the competition. Feast was an immense success as it always ways. The food was amazing as was the company. #Foodcoma #Wholeroastedpig #liquidcourage #bardjuice
Game face on. No… not vampires. You know, srsbsns.
I mentioned that my repertoire this year was important to me. Several years prior, I had discovered a performer named Owain Pfyfe. If you know me well enough, you know I do not really care for tenors. The bright timbre is not something iI inherently enjoy. However, there was something about his charisma and style that I couldn’t ignore. I was so intent on finding him. He had to be a SCAdian right? After about six months of searching and re-listening to all of his repertoire, I was DEVASTATED to find out that he had passed a few years prior. I then began spending my time learning his music, listening to his humor and trying to take it and internalize it, making it my own. My first piece would be one of his repertoire and it was my own take on it. I spent time focusing on that.
This year, I started with a mummer like feeling. I sat in the back of the room, covered in a wool cloak and an Italian Renaissance style plague doctors mask. I sat, quietly listening to the other performers, trying not to disturb them, but enjoy myself as well. Then, a friend of mine and fellow Bard, Kara the Mischievous took the stage. She sang a song, in which I have already received from her to add to my own personal book (It was that awesome!). Then, she too, decided to tell a story. She had mentioned at dinner she was telling a Norse story. I listened intently as she started her story, to tell us about when “Thor wore a dress”. My heart hit the floor, eyes widened and all the blood rushed from my body. That was -my- story. What was I going to do? Should I leave? Should I quit? What should I do?!?!?!
I took a stiff upper lip when it was turn, re-centered and let my new “persona” take over. I would not back down. I took the stage from the back of the hall in my mummers kit and my awful mix of European accents. I would crack jokes, get my “unsuspecting” assistants to the stage to help me out and slowly remove each piece. First the cloak (Which was alllll wool) so i weighed more than the world did at the moment. Next, the mask. Facial expressions are very important with physical comedy and the shtick I had chosen at that time. The piece I performed was “Fuggi, Fuggi”. I had the audience sing with me, I sang the Italian and as I explained to the audience, they’d be singing the Latin… ( Falalalala). At the end, it was time to show off my classical training. I arpeggiated my way up to a F above treble clef (One full octave above the top F line) and then gliasando’d down (Slide). A few small mistakes here and there, but ultimately I am very happy with how that piece went down.
Next, it was time for my story. I quickly thought of how I was going to fix this, the debacle, of two of us telling the same story. I opened with, “You may have already heard this story… tonight” and the audience seemed to appreciate that. Thank goodness for me, Kara and I have very different styles of telling stories so, although we told the same story, it was very different. This story was huge for me as I am not a storyteller, though, my friend’s say otherwise. I rely on my fast paced wit and vocal technique to entertain with. This was also important as this was my first true to persona piece I had done. Win or lose, this was my own victory.
At court on Sunday, I was not announced at the victor and my heart sunk. I had several folks approach me, telling me how much they enjoyed my piece, how much they loved my voice, how excited that I was going to be their champion again. I think this was devastating to me only because this was told to me. Had I not had so much stake in this at this point I think it wouldn’t have been as much of a letdown. However, their new Baronial champion is a shining star. She is just starting to really get her feet wet into Bardic. She has such talent and skill. I cannot wait to watch her grow and support her. My job in Stonemarche is done. Their community is growing strong and supportive. I will never stop supporting them, I will never stop being a part of their community, but they are not my focus any more. I need to find another group who needs my help just a tad more. You could say, “I’m a Wizard, Harry” and “A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.” And I will go precisely to where I am needed next.
As in the aforementioned post, I could not make the journey to the holy land this year. Next year in Jerusa—– Pennsic.A few folks had created a small circle in the middle of the lawn. Garb, fencing, thrown weapons, food and archery were all surrounding this (safely at distance… the marshalls all checked! I watched). Music started. I sat and listed to the dulcet tones of these strangers. There is nothing more comforting and home than music. One gentleman asked me if I sang or played anything or if I was just there to listen. I responded “Both”. They asked me if I would share. Who was I to say no. I was honestly there to just listen, but denying someone music is the worst crime of all.
I pulled out a tune I knew well and suddenly new friends were made. We jammed for what seemed like hours. I harmonized with the other performers, I noodled on one of their guitars, sang by myself, had them harmonize with me. It was heaven. Now I just need to figure out how to make this happen in Malagentia. To the drawing board!
Holy mother of rain, Batman. Was this a wet demo. It was raining cats and dogs off and on. Though, it did clear up for a couple of hours. I was asked a few months prior, knowing that I wasn’t going to Pennsic, to perform for the attendees of the demo. The plans for this had not changed, but there was a hiccup. The individual who was supposed to marshall for this event had to step out last minute.
The Monday evening prior to the demo, I received a message from the autocrat asking if I knew any fencing marshalls who’d be willing to attend the event. I said I would ask around. The Northern Region Rapier Marshall attends my local fencing practices and I asked her as well as the local marshalls if they would be available or have any suggestions. I, myself, had been working on my fencing marshallate for the last year but was not a marshall yet. That evening, I had earned my fencing marshallate and was able to reply to the autocrat with good news. I would be MiC(Marshall in Charge) to make sure fencing could happen.
Fast forward to day of, paperwork was provided, everyone was safe, no one died and it was a good demo. I even heralded and announced the fencers as well. The heavy armored fighters were so thrilled to see this, they asked me to herald them in as well and speak to the audience. I think this went well.
Finally, the rain just overtook the whole event. We curled up inside of structure… Barn/garage thing… A small bardic circle formed. Ruadh was discussing that bardic can be for everyone and comes in all shapes and sizes. I sang for the group… pretty pieces and not so pretty pieces. I told stories and hammed it up (Kosher Ham, mom. I promise!). I gently nudged new performers to get up and do their thing. I sang with the new comers and I could feel the cold air turn warm. There is something magical about how bardic can make a garage with crockpots feel like an old tavern.
Lord Frederick Vanderveer had approached me once again to open my mouth to make pretty noises. It was time to arrange another concert for GNEW. It was a bit harder to wrangle performers this year due to the fighting schedule and the notoriously long pomp and circumstance of Court.
I had lined up a few new acts for the concert. Something about this year filled me with the anticipation of new and exciting talent.
A few days prior to the concert, I began to receive multiple messages from people who could no longer perform. What started as a venue of 7 performers was now down to 4. This would still work, but we all suddenly had more stage time to fill.
Bardic Grove had been moved to Merchants Row, and the stage was now more intimate. The concert was slated for Friday night so it would not compete with Court (besides, some of us like to go to bed BEFORE the thunder parties are over).
Waiting with me to perform was Lady Nuala McKensie, but my 2 other performers never appeared.
I swore I would still make this work.
Nuala and I would weave between pieces. I also had the genius idea to turn the concert stage into a safe space for newer and less confident performers.
Lord Frederick Vanderveer happened to be in attendance. I asked him if he would grace us with a piece. He gladly accepted and entertained the audience with a beautiful melody. It was really nice to see him perform. He doesn’t often get a venue to perform vocally and sometimes the bard factor can be intimidating.
After that, we also had the joy of being entertained by Lord Greger when he told us a humorous tale of one of his many experiences within the SCA.
To round out the night, we had a young woman with a beautiful voice who had never performed publicly before. It was absolutely lovely to have new blood show such bravery as to perform in front of an audience at our show.
We finished with a group performance of “Life Blood”, which has always been an SCA favorite of mine.
The next day, there were to be several courts held. There was one mid day at which a friend of mine would be receiving an award, so I made sure to be present.
There was a hold with the royalty (not uncommon in these situations). They had called for a bard. Typically, in these circumstances the King’s or Queen’s personal bard would be called to perform, however, neither was present for this event. Being noticed by the King, I was called to perform. I did not have my bard book on me, but without hesitation I began to sing. I few verses later, my services were no longer needed and court resumed.
I had never been called on to perform so suddenly and without preparation. This was a huge honor bestowed upon me by the royalty, and I can only be thankful my performance was not preceded by me losing my lunch all over the court attendees.
*Puffs out chest* I’m on staff this year! Well, kinda sort of. I was running Bardic Circle that night. But before then, Shopping!
Then after shopping, fashion happened. And then court. I don’t remember much of court, because I spent much of it retaining for both their Excellencies and their Highnesses. Court actually finished on time this year {*gasp* say it isn’t so!} and I had time between then and Bardic Circle. I sauntered my way over to where the Fashion Show had been performed earlier and where we’d be Circling shortly, and to my surprise, there were already folks ready to sing.
We did Pick, Pass, or Play: you pick someone to play a piece, pass it to someone else, or play your own piece. We were getting towards the end of the night, and a middle-aged Italian woman had asked for someone to sing a piece from her homeland. Without even thinking, I had a case of helium-hand, almost hitting the unsuspecting Aneleda behind me, who was also raising her hand. We looked to one another, mouthed, “Cacinni,” and quickly decided to turn a solo into a duet. I would sing the melody, while she sang the harmony.
When we were done, our new Italian friend, had tears in her eyes. I asked if my Italian was still decent, and she responded she thought I was a native. She continued to go on about how Aneleda and I had warmed her heart, and how we were now fast friends. The Circle went on until about eleven, and then the night ended mutually, as the bards and their audience had been wandering off to find their beds or other amusements at their own pace.
Jingle Bells, the Baron Smells, MacFrode laid an egg…
Ahem, sorry.
This is the year I get to attend, and have no responsibility. The Viking was incognito, donning 13th century garb, trading in my beads for a veil, and a fancy belt. However, never leaving my side is my Bard-Book — like a safety blanket, it goes with me everywhere.
Music was supposed to be run by someone else this year, so it was time for me to be a regular bystander and enjoy the atmosphere. Besides, I had my own little event to worry about back home, I didn’t want to do anything but eat, drink, and be merry. However, we know how these things tend to work out.
A familiar tugging on my kirtle occurred, but not from Photographer-Girl — she was absent this year, and I missed her greatly, — but from the Music Maestra herself. Inquisitively, she asked when music would begin. I gave her a blank stare. I said it was her show, and I was happy to sing whenever she needed me.
More time passed, and another tugging, from a different individual. However, same question. It seemed like it wasn’t just the food that brought people to this event. Finally, a third tug had me deciding to snap the chariot reins. I Oyez’ed for interested participants, and made a space for singing. Luckily, I had brought my security blanket full of a plethora of holiday music. We gathered in the hall, and sang through my usual repertoire. When I ran out of music, it turned out that the Music Maestra had indeed brought her own holiday SCA filks.We sang through those, and the event soon ended after.
I’m starting to wonder if I’m a musical Moses. I hope I’m not doomed to wander for 40 years.
Who’s smart idea was it to let the bard autocrat an event? Who’s smart idea was it to let the Viking bard autocrat an event? Vikings are known for pillaging, ravaging, and burning, not planning, and organizing, and decorating!
However, this Viking likes food. And I had an awesome kitchen staff. Despite all the hare in the stew.
I spent months planning my first event {Trust me, she did, it’s all she would talk about at fencing practice. (Shut up, Karen!)} And I never took for granted how much work the autocrats put into their events, big or small. I had excel spreadsheets, checklists, and lists for my excel-lists and checksheets. No, wait.
And best of all, the best deputy a Viking could ask for. My deputy found my masterful feastocrats, and also helped to find the perfect location. I didn’t just want this event to be delicious, I wanted the atmosphere to feel like home. If home had servers. And live music. And dancing. And games. And a silent auction. And room to seat 120.
Oh, and two surprise guests I couldn’t even imagine would grace my small event. But that comes later.
Before I had even submitted my bid. I made sure I had beat all my ducks into submission, and they were all in a neat row. I had lined up all my volunteers, and had my menu planned, and waited several weeks anxiously to find out my bid had been accepted.
Once everything had been lined up, I had about a month and a half to complete everything on my checklists. Everything fell into line easily, almost like I had planned it to. Until two weeks prior to the event…
Dun dun DUUUUUUN!
I had received a message on the Tome of Visages from Astrid, head retainer for their Royal Highnesses. “Hey Solvieg, Guess who’s coming to visit?”
I don’t know, Batman and Robin?
Good guess, but think a little bit fancier. With pointy hats.
Batman and Robin putting on a Statue of Liberty cosplay?
Close, but still no cigar.
Their Highnesses!
*insert cursing in my brain*
My heart began to palpate. What are you supposed to do to royalty? Or is it *with* royalty? Do I also have to dress up fancy and wear a floofy dress? Gosh darn it, I don’t wanna! You can’t make me!
The realization that the event was a week and a half away, and I don’t know what to do with royals or where to put them, or even where they went on my excel sheets, I did what any insane person would do: reach out to my 50 closest friends who had run events before, and ask for their sagest knowledge. And when that didn’t cut it, alcohol suggestions.
I was blessed with copious suggestions, and my mind was put at ease.
Hooray! The day of the event!
Wait, what is all this white stuff?! Why is it snowing?!
Because it’s January in Maine. Gah.
Thanks to the presence of our Royals, the event was sold out before the doors even opened. I had more volunteers than I knew what to do with for set up. And more kept coming. The hall was beautiful, filled with everything from garlands to banners of personal arms. We even glitter bombed their Highnesses chairs (thanks Karen! {My pleasure! His Highness said I gave him craft herpes, hehe!})
The fragrance of fine food filled the air. (<– see, I made alliteration work this time!) And I had just enough servers for the tables, even with Karen bouncing in and out of the kitchen as needed. We even had a small court, thank goodness for no set up. The removes rolled in, and empty dishes rolled out. Between removes, the Malagentian Bardic Players even performed. When there were no Malagentian Bardic Players performances, solo bards got up to do their own. Some I had pre-arranged, and some were a surprise. I felt almost empty, not having performed up to that point. It was my duty to make sure the event kept running smoothly, however, my deputy advised me that for five minutes, the event would be under control with me {Oh, what a liar!} (Shut up Karen!). She encouraged me to get up and sing, and so I did just that. I performed one piece by myself, and then an improvised duet with a friend.
{Karen even got up with the same friend and sang The Feast Song with her! And Karen doesn’t sing in public!}
As the night came to a close, their Highnesses presented me each with their tokens, which were the first ones minted of their reign. On top of that, the numbers were run for the event, and we made a $750 profit {on an event that usually loses money! Wow!}, and a $450 donation to the Riding of Ravensbridge through the Silent Auction.
The snow continued to fall, though my wonderful volunteers stuck around to help break down the event. I think I made it home in one piece. I didn’t leave site until 11:30. I don’t remember how I got home, I just remember crawling into bed and sleeping until noon the next day. What an exhausting and wonderful experience. The cherry on the sundae was receiving from many individuals about how much they loved the variety of bardic performances throughout the evening. 8.5 out of 10, would definitely consider running again, in a few years at least. As long as it’s not a last minute Royal Progress…
Eight months prior to the event, I received a message on the Visage of Tomes from Mistress Aneleda. And within this message, she inquired whether I’d be willing to serve as an ad hoc choir director for an Elizabethan immersion event. Without hesitation *damn helium hand* I said sure! She quickly put me in touch Mistress Aife/Master Valentine, as well as the autocrat for this event. Most of the communication was done through email. Me, being an introvert with extroverted tendencies, I really just wanted a phone call. But I’d make this work anyway.
I was in charge of obtaining vocalists, selecting the music, and rehearsing for a one-day event. Now, you might think, this is crazy, how can you do that, why would you do such a thing, that’s impossible? Trust me, I asked myself these same things over the course of eight months. I’m sure these are the same questions I would be asking myself if I ever found myself knocked up, and some mornings, thinking about the task I had taken on, I woke feeling queasy.
Much like the first trimester, these feelings passed as this baby grew. I tried to figure out the best way to communicate with my potential vocalists: would it be via the book of faces, email, yahoo groups, carrier pigeons, messages in bottles (I felt like I needed to drink a lot of wine to get through this, so I might have some empty bottles), maybe smoke signals? And finally settled on Facebook, even knowing not everyone used it.
Four months prior to the event, as the second trimester as it were was wrapping up, my search for singers would begin. I joined EVERY Eastern Kingdom Facebook group I could find, and started to spread the gospel. The responses started to trickle in. Some committed, some didn’t, but it gave me hope.
Three months prior to the event. Huh, I should probably pick the music now, just like a parent would pick names, right? I had done my research months prior as to selecting what type of pieces — knowing that each piece had to be Elizabethan, — but the exact pieces hadn’t been chosen until I knew what vocal range my vocalists had, and how many I would have. You can’t do six-part harmony with only two people, after all. Even Vikings can do that much complex math. I settled on five pieces in polyphony, and a few rounds. I sent out a copy of the scores, midi recordings with all the parts, as well as individual parts, for song-learning, so even if my vocalists couldn’t read music, I should have my bases covered.
A few weeks prior to the event, I kept checking in with my vocalists, to see how part-learning was going. I myself had to study the scores and be ready to assist on any of the four parts as necessary. Also, with learning the score, is looking ahead, and anticipating where there might be part difficulty. My scores looked like a rainbow. It had also occurred to me that I would need suitable garb for this event, because while Vikings pillaged quite a bit, they weren’t around to pillage the Elizabethan court. Aw, hell. Thank goodness for Fortune St Keyne. This goddess, this angel of mercy, whipped me up some spiffy threads in but a few weeks time.
A week prior to the event, I still didn’t have a final number of individuals who would be participating. It was coming down to crunch time, time to push this metaphoric baby out, and it was like we didn’t have a birth plan. Or a hospital. Or something equally important, I don’t know.
Day of event! Don’t panic. Don’t forget your towel. I’m panicking! No, don’t panic!
I was early. I’m always early. I hauled my feast gear, my keyboard, my music, my pitch-pipe, my garb, my piano-bench, and other assorted things needed for the event up the stairs of this decommissioned church. I set my things up in my rehearsal space, and slowly began to decrease my heart rate. Don’t they talk about breathing in those birth classes? Something like that. In all my years of being a choir director, I had never been in this situation before. I didn’t know what levels of experience my vocalists had, or if they had even learned their music. Heck, I didn’t even know if anyone would show up. I asked my vocalists to show up at 10am, so we would have a good two hours of rehearsal time all together. In typical musician manner — or maybe it was Scadian manner? — they were tardy. Circa 10:30, we finally got down to working on the music. My vocalists were surprised that I insisted on warming them up, like I was a professional or something. In my own turn, I was pleasantly surprised that I had a well balanced and versatile group. And they had all learned their music!!! If I could work with them every time I had to choose vocalists in the future, I would in a heartbeat.
I was also pleased to find that every section of music that I anticipated difficulty with came up, and I was able to nip it in the bud quickly and efficiently. Proper planning prevents poor performance, right? The only surprise in the rehearsal was the sheer delight and ease of this experience. Every single one of my singers were prepared and respectful. It was beyond anything I could have even imagined. I even got to twirl in my dress.
The autocrat, Lady Olivia, had done a beautiful job with her dream, though through no fault of her own, had difficulties the day of the event, with kitchen mishaps beyond her control. The only reason I bring this up, because it affected performance time. We didn’t know when we would perform, but at least we had prepared a signal. What happened next was also incredible, performance time.
My angels took to the loft, and we assembled in the planned formation. Song after song, beautiful harmonies echoed throughout the hall. I got so excited throughout one piece, I lost control of my baton, and it left my fingers. I *think* it missed my vocalists, and landed somewhere in the pews next to us. I was saved the embarrassment of trying to climb beneath the pews by one of my angels, who retrieved said baton and returned it to me. Could a director get any luckier?
Video by : Anna Elisabetta deValladolid.
Even during one of the pieces, where it had slightly derailed, they continued to sing like nothing was wrong until we could get it back on track. They were true professionals in my eyes that day. There was downtime for soloist performers as well, which I had arranged, a few of my vocalists had asked me if I would sing that day. At first I refused, because that day was not about me, but I finally decided it was something I should do, if only to stop them from asking.
Photo by Lady Olivia Baker
I sheepishly approached the front of the balcony and waited for the moment to feel right. When it did, I sang the only Elizabethan solo piece I knew by heart. When I was done, I was glad I had performed, because soon after, I was approached by five individuals who presented me with their tokens. One was chocolatey and delicious.
I am also pleased that after this performance that I gained so many new friends and performers, that I would not give up this experience for anything. Okay, maybe the Elizabethan dress. If I could have done the whole thing in my Viking, the day would have been MUCH better!
This piece was composed for the the incipient shire of Ravensbridge. They has put forth a challenge to compose a Song/Story/Poem about their inception. This was my response. Recording to come.
The Birth of Ravensbridge- By Sölveig Bjarnardottir
Down by the swan-road we soar on the wing
and from our hearts a song we did sing
Over the mountains it rang o’re the ridge
about the birth of Ravensbridge
Trapped between rivaling nations we stand
This place was not home, no not on this land
Together as people the plain that we spanned
to make a home not written in sand
Down by the swan-road we soar on the wing
and from our hearts a song we did sing
Over the mountains it rang o’re the ridge
about the birth of Ravensbridge
We searched for a center, a place to call home
Two strongholds that stood, both we did roam
Endewearde, headland of swords north fair
Malagentia lit South, by the light of Sif’s hair
Down by the swan-road we soar on the wing
and from our hearts a song we did sing
Over the mountains it rang o’re the ridge
about the birth of Ravensbridge
Our men speared-din worn, our people lost drive
‘til an outstretched arm lent our kinsman to thrive
A spot between moon and shield to be shown
Our wound-hoe, blood-ember and arms soon to be grown
Down by the swan-road we soar on the wing
and from our hearts a song we did sing
Over the mountains it rang o’re the ridge
about the birth of Ravensbridge
Nameless the many who wandered are we
A name and an image we’re proud to be seen
In honor of friends and this place that we stand
The Raven and Bridge is our chosen brand
Down by the swan-road we soar on the wing
and from our hearts a song we did sing
Over the mountains it rang o’re the ridge
about the birth of Ravensbridge
Meddlings of the Minnesinger 