Yule- The 2017 Stonemarche Edition

This year was a really hard time for me around the holidays. I was without significant other, my family lives multiple states away and some completely on the bottom edge of the east coast, but I know that I always have my Stonemarche family.

This year, I went with cheeses and song and hopes for hugs and a chance to learn. I also brought a new class with me.

I started the day with a class/round table called “So you want to be a bard”. The nature of the class was to answer beginners questions such as stage fright management, finding repertoire, breaking in to the scene and entering competitions.  I also brought into the pot the black hole that is bardic documentation. If you do not have a formal background in music, it can be an intimidating subject, IE) “Well, I know that this composer was born in period” and that’s all they can tell you. I really being a resource for the nitty gritty  and able to talk more about what makes the piece and how it fits in period.

As the day continued, I too myself, got to attend a couple classes. One on how to crochet and one which was a Peer round table. There was copious amounts of valuable information.  The reason I bring up this round table is because the path I chose in the society is not like most paths. Those who choose to follow this path is even fewer than any other path. It’s not an easy path and finding a peer who can help lead me is even rarer. Master Tiberius and Master Gwen  lead an evocative round table. They talked about the journey, the fears, the misconceptions but most importantly, what it truly meant to be a peer. They were elders, NPCs, there to help you with your journey. They were there not just because of their passions, but because of your passions as well.

As the day was coming to an and, the food consumed and gifts for all, what would a day of festivities be without music. Sadly, the Baronial bard could not make it, so I -had- to make music happen. I say that, not feeling full of neglect, but as a person who needs music to happen. A person who needs music in their soul and it share it with others.

I brought a book of about 12 contrafacts of popular holiday music which embodied the SCA and we sang out hearts out. We started as 5, no practice, different backgrounds and were eventually down to 3.  Music rang as we sang.

Bardic Around the fire, Strikes again!

Winter is coming, my friends and it’s time for more Bardic!

 

With winter starting to show it’s face and the camping events slowing down, it’s time to keep our bodies and souls warm with the best thing I can think of. Bardic!

Once or twice a year for the last few years I have been running an unoffical gathering at the Inn of Bards Rest. There is a bonfire, potluck and of course, Bardic lubricant. The event is child friendly until 10pm and then the bawdy material may seep its way out.  I try to make this a safe place for all sorts of performers all all levels.

This particular time we have just shy of 30 folks showing up from Maine, Mass., NH and even Vermont. We had performers ranging from age 9 to 60. The fired roared and so many new pieces I have never seen or heard performed happened. One story even made its debut as it was completed being written while the story was being told!

The best part about this was there were folks who showed up only to listen and they grew brave enough with the encouragement of myself as well as those around the circle to perform themselves. It was a magic night especially since the rain held off.

Until next year, when I have a new witty title to name this.

 

Winter Nights

Those suuuuummmerrr….NIGHTSSSSSSSS *singing to the tune of Grease*

 

Hello friends and welcome to another edition of Solveig needs to stop traveling and competing so much. I am your host, very sleep deprived and messy housed Solveig. This weeks edition is a special one. This episode has nothing but bards in it (ok, and a few viewers).

Back at the Feast of St. Nicholas in Queen Elizabeth’s Court, Drake Oranwood had described to me this as an all day/night bardic challenge called Winter Nights. He spoke of this sweet sweet armband he got to wear for a year and the circulating location of this event. It had started as a Concordia only event, but had grown larger. This event, however, was not typical to most bardic competition. This one would almost require you to have access to your coveted book of all things bardic. On top of that, you would be issued a challenge and would issue a challenge every round.  This would be a new way for me to meet new Bards as well as stretch myself.

Drake had reached out to me prior, asking if I could assist with gate, so I arrived early anticipating that I would be providing assistance. Luckily, when I arrived, that was all managed so I didn’t have to leave the secret not so secret bard lounge. The atmosphere was filled with Drake noodling on his new toy, chatting of new bards meeting one another and then anxiety of trying to figure out the sign up format and the grading system. We would all be judging. Hooray for rotating judges!

Although I had introduced myself to several new faces, ADOS (Attention Deficit OOH SHINY) over a fancy piece of weaving, I cuddled myself into familiar bare feet. I was second on the roster to perform my first piece (which was our choice). I pulled out a familiar favorite of mine as most of these folks had never heard me sing it. I sang it well and as per the challenge, described what kind of a Skald I was.  To date, I believe this was my best performance of this piece yet, despite the yellow liquid trickling down my leg and boy… was the air dry *cough cough* is it hot in here?

Each of the performers one by one displayed their array of interesting styles. I was quickly feeling intimidated. I was so used to being a big fish in a small pond. It was awe inspiring but it also kicked me down a few pegs.

The second round I was issued my first opposition challenge by a familiar face I had met at crown. Lorita spoke of how she had observed me constantly making the audience laugh. She asked me to make the audience cry. I gladly accepted that challenge. Her challenge from me was to perform a piece not using her own words.

For my challenge I chose the Irish folk piece of lover’s loss, “Turtledove”. It was somber, slow and beautiful. I wish I had chosen a better key to sing it in. Hindsight. Lorita did an incredible job of telling a story (which she informed me afterwords, was originally a song) of an angry woman cursing  the populace as they would make a pregnant woman run. Her emotions evocative, her timing, impeccable and her facial expressions were solid.

For my final challenge, I was paired with Grimm/Grym Skald. I panicked to think of a challenge for this story telling/poetic giant. His work was far surpassing of my own and I often wondered how I could challenge him. I though, very Winnie the Pooh style and contemplated how I could even put a small obstacle in his way. It then dawned on me that I had never heard him sing.  I asked my barefooted co-skald if that was a thing Grym could do and they affirmed as such. I asked Grym to sing and he asked me not to sing. I was prepared. I had not 1 but 2 stories I could pull out this time.  Which one? GYAH!

After deliberation, I pulled out the piece that had more refinement to it and played with the audience.  The timing was much better than the last time I performed it, better response times from the audience and much shorter.  This was some of the feedback I had received from the King’s previous bard (from K and Q) as well as a few peers. Still not perfect yet, but it’s a work in progress.

The end of the event, we had some open bardic before the winner was announced. I sang a contrafact/filk which I hadn’t performed for the public, as well as Drake’s “We are the East” (Which, to that date, he had never heard another human sing his piece for him). Peregrin the Illuminator was named the winner of the day and my god, his grapes were the best grapes. (he had been challenged to Illuminate the grapes and as well write a dirty/lusty/raunchy/sexy piece… which he took his first piece and wrote a new perspective on it).

The other two performances which truly stuck out to me were Cedar san Barefoot’s piece where they wrote themselves into a “Norse” piece where Loki had to get them to wear shoes and Douglas Doan’s constant use of staircase jokes and box myths. I will never look at staircases and boxes the same way again.

As we packed up for the evening, I was stopped by Toki (of whom I had never met prior to this day, but apparently had created this event many moons ago). He presented me with his token. I was humbled because as the day had progressed I had heard much about him.  I thanked him graciously and thanked him for his patronage.

A few days later I had connected with Toki on the Visage of Tomes and we had a several hour conversation. To me, I think a new mentoring relationship/friendship was born an I am deeply grateful for this opportunity.

 

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Pensic Pity Party

Pity me on my pilgrimage to Loch Derge!

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!

A Walk Amongst the Pines

I pine for you!

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.

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Coronation of King Ionnes and Queen Honig

When in Rome, do like the Romans! Wear togas… what did you think I was going to say?

Callooh Callay! Oh frabjous day! My friends were getting crowned.

This little Viking — well, not so little, really — feels weird, because she doesn’t know how to roman. She’s more of a stayin kinda gal, to be honest. Thank goodness for Bianca di Firenze, who knows all about stolas and pallas and I’m pretty sure dressed the entire kingdom. Or at least the Malagentian half.

But before the festivities were to begin, there was always more work to be done for this Viking-turned Roman. Wait, where’s my bling? None of my bling matches! ACK!

I had been informed a few months prior that Lord Alexandre St Pierre was to receive *his* Laurel — I think you’ll start to notice a trend of when I compose. At least, I’m not decomposing. Yet. Wait, what’s that smell?

Anyways, how does one write a song for a scribe?  I made lists of all the things he couldn’t do very well — it wasn’t that long a list. I even tried to read poems about other scribes — don’t try it, because they don’t exist. But what does exist is a passion for hobbies, and then I was inspired by his passion. By his words, by what came from his hands, you could even say inspired by his hands.

I wanted well-rounded scribe, but a talented artist, and an archer as well. So I figured it out. I wasn’t going to write him a song. I was going to write him a poem instead!

Poems were their own sort of challenge, because they weren’t restricted by the same parameters as a song. Word stress was also far different. I hadn’t written a poem for anyone in seventeen years. I guess you have to start somewhere. Again. I stared at blank paper. I stared at ink. I made lists of all  to include *everything* he did, not just the scribal aspect. I used allusions to swords and to archery, and music as well. I was pleased with the product, but as always, shy to present it to the public.

Coronation arrived, and I think I figured out which way was up with my garb — the little arrows Bianca safety-pinned on really helped. I arrived early to help set up his vigil. And schmooze, as you do. And check for the 513th time I was wearing my palla correctly. Which fell off my head over 9,000 times! If I hadn’t been told how much of a hussy I would have been without one, I would have just given up on the darn thing.

Morning court came, and everyone played it cool. I had Alexandre’s little flaggy hidden in my palla, and he was the first one called in. The look of, “Oh crap!” was priceless! Hopefully someone got it on camera! We waved our little flaggies and watched as he was sent off to vigil. He was one of the lucky ones, because he wasn’t there when (former) King Brion made the entire room cry while singing “My Queen” to his lovely wife, Anna. I bet Alexandre’s were the only dry eyes in the entire building as King Brion sang well and with all his heart, nothing could have been more true. It was really freaking adorable. Even the Vikings cried, though they probably won’t admit it, since they were all disguised as Romans.

About an hour into his vigil, I finally got my chance to present my gift to Alexandre. I felt like one of the fairies from Sleeping Beauty. I hope it’s not Merryweather. Oh God, or Maleficent!

Since I lack the skill of calligraphy and illumination — I’m learning, but it’s taking quite a bit of time — I had “borrowed” in classic Viking fashion, a previously created illumination from Ye Olde Internets, and had placed the words of my own composition on it using Ye Olde Word MMXIII. You would think, as a bard, I’d be better at words in vigils. But I feel as if I always walk all over my tongue. I spoke to Alexandre of the beauty that he presents the world, and his multitude of gifts. So now it was my time to give him a gift back, the only one I have to offer. I handed him the framed copy, and then began to read. I didn’t catch his reaction, since I was too busy being nervous reading it to him to look up, but I feel it was well received. I also let him know that I learned a new trade just to be able to honor him that day. I told him that I would be heralding him into court. This is something I had never done before, not just in court aspect, but at all.

The rest of the afternoon passed, and it was time for the afternoon court, the first court of the new King and Queen, my friends, Ionnes and Honig. We anxiously mustered in the hall. We were all of Woolfe’s Company: We were small but we were mighty. Thank you, New England April Fool’s Day storm. We were the last business, but the energy was still high. As herald, I was the second to process, the first being a small boy no older than eight years old, carrying Alexandre’s banner of arms. I wrote the words that morning as I was inspired, and grandiosely presented my friend to the Known World. In addition, I had arranged a Machaut piece (which was of his persona) to be played as I heralded. I made sure the words suited him, and that I was clearer than crystal. The world would tremble at his presence. But not too much, because as Sir Ivan remarked, he is a small man.

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Beautiful gifts were presented to him as were his right, and court finished soon after as all the Laurels swarmed to welcome their newest inductee. I got a hug too.

Now my favorite part of any event, that doesn’t have shopping, FEAST!

This feast would have a new twist — I had signed up to serve. It’s true. My palla found a new place to live, as I became a kitchen hussy. This experience was not only enlightening, because while I had only just recently learned what it was like to run a feast a few months prior, I had never served a feast before. I would say I rolled up my sleeves and dug in, but I didn’t have any. Where it was a whirlwind at times, it was still a great time. The camaraderie and leftovers were great. 9.5, maybe 10 out of 10, would definitely serve again. Besides, any time I can be that close to Gryffyth’s food is a fantastic day in my book!

 

By His Hand

“Look at that,” he said, “how the ink bleeds.”  
It mirrors the way the rivers  
of the soul soak in the parchment
He loved the way it looked
to write on a thick pillow of the pad
To him, it was like music, a song in his hands–
all of the possible drawings,
curves, relationships–  
all of the answers, questions, mysteries,  
all of the problems solvable in that space.
The pen in his hand,  
a key to the prison, that white space.
By his hand, a new beginning.
By his hand, imagery–flights of arrows
Piercing through the stark confines
Like a sword dashing through the dark,
Revealing a new light
in his work, in his words

Stonemarche Yule 2016

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.

 

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Winterfeast

Fa la la, fus roh da

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…

 

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Bardic Around the Fire, Part Deux

It’s that time again, kids! Or well, adults! Might be best to leave the kids at home for this one!

Back by popular demand, Bardic Around the Fire Part Deux was held at Kythe and Sine’s, on another nice, balmy late June/early July evening (things tend to run together when too much fun is had around a fire with good friends, good food, and some good booze). Much like the previous year, there were both new and familiar faces. IT seemed like people knew what to expect, so there was very little for me to manage. There did seem to be a lot more plebeians this time, who were ready to request their favorite song or story, but not quite ready to step onto the stage themselves.

 

Food was a drop more sparse in variety this time, but the alcohol made up for it, and flowed quite nicely. The only children we seemed to have this time were not really young in age, just in heart. This time we even had Battlecat Zeus in attendance, all hail his purrfectness! I swear, if people weren’t performing, they were petting this damn cat. The night roared on, much like the fire, but I had to leave at a reasonable hour, because some of us had work the next morning *grumble grumble* But I would definitely call this another success.

The Great Balloon Festival, 2016

The Viking invades Auburn, again! A teensy bit tardy this time, because she’s overcommitted. #shocker, right?

It’s time to make the music again! But this time, instead of heavylift gear, I brought things to stab people with. I had heard over the winter that rapiers made for sexier bards, so I decided to try it out. # +4tocharisma, am I right? Bard book in hand, the filk that had started last summer would be coming to life. Mwahahaha!

My repertoire had grown twice over since last year, so I was lucky enough to have more of a variety to pick and choose from. This time, instead of staying in Bardic Grove, I wandered throughout or medieval town. I channeled my inner Miss Piggy and hammed it up. See what I did there, hehe?

Again, after hours of singing, I decided that it was time to go play on the dark side of things and go stab my friends. After all, what is better therapy than stabbing those you play board games with? I think my favorite part of fencing demos is it’s just like being in stage at a B-rated play. I once again channeled my inner Bruce Campbell, a la Army of Darkness, while alive, and my Paul Rubens, a la that horrible Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie that even Joss Whedon admits isn’t canon (shut up, Karen! I like that movie!) when dying. The night came quickly, and I was off like a light, because mundania yelled at me that I had to go apartment hunting — stupid mundane life!

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