The final days of being Baronial Bard leave me with bittersweet tears. On one hand, I am relieved to be done with the responsibility; on the other hand, I lose my sweet bling, and the super cool title — I’m most upset about the bling. Viking, after all.
This year’s competition required one period piece, the second in a different style, and finally dun, dun DUN (a la Jaws)… a surprise round!!!! for the top two finalists. As in years past, even though I wasn’t competing, there were still nerves about me, because this year I was in charge of running the competitions. While I had helped run the All-State competitions in college for high school students, and even had help running a very small competition at Palio, I had never been in charge of an SCA competition, by myself, no help, so I was worried things would get interesting and I’d have to turn to their Excellencies and beg for forgiveness.
In addition to finding my successor as Baronial Bard, I was running Warrior Bard, and adding an all-new competition for youth under the age of eighteen. The Warrior Bard position is important because it drives home the fact that athletes too can be performers, and vice versa. The position of Child’s Bard is one of the most important initiatives that the SCA has in their hands: after all, not to be cliche, but they are our future. If we instill the arts in them young, we will have a richly tapestried future.
But first, let’s start at the beginning of the day, shall we?
Like in the year before, the rounds had been such a success, I decided we must go around and around and around again. I swear the crowd was just as big as last year, mayhaps bigger than before. Had the news gotten around about how much fun we had had? Perchance. Bodies wandered in and out to join the festivities until there were no voices left. I had set a time limit on the class, but we soon lost track of it. I decided that rounds needed to become a staple at any event I could gather willing bodies, young and old alike enjoyed them no matter their musical backgrounds, and it was a joy to watch everyone have so much fun.
A lot of these bodies were returning from not only last year, but some whom I had met at Bardic Around the Fire, individuals who were too timid to sing on their own, and some who had come due to word of mouth. It once again was mentioned to me that not only were the rounds classes exciting because they offered an opportunity to sing, but they also gave people the courage to do so who would not usually sing in public. I cannot express how much their words of gratitude mean, but I can tell you their words continue to motivate me to run this class and provide this opportunity as often as I can. Plus, it’s a lot of fun.
There had been a previous announcement that the three Bardic Competitions would all be run at separate points during the day, allowing for children to have a decent bedtime, and fighters to have a full night’s sleep before their tournaments the next day. However, due to their Excellency’s prior commitments, things ended up running on Scadian time.
Feast ran once again without disappointment, and their Excellencies were as always a delight to sit with and make merry. Minor details of the upcoming competitions were discussed and the final call for competitors was made. At the end of feast, it was then announced the location and exact time of the competitions. I glanced over the list prior to the beginning of the competition, and extremely excited to see the sheer number of names, but also the backgrounds.
An hour later in the barn, it was time for the heat to rise.I had prefabricated scoring sheets, which had been a new practice to make things as fair as possible. These categories weren’t necessarily about aesthetics, but included such categories as stage presence, entertainment value, and the ability to be understood. Not only did I have their Excellencies on the panel, but also requested previous Baronial Bards and professional performers to join the jury. This, again, had never been done before, or at least in my short tenure in the SCA.
I, of course, allowed the children to go first so that bedtimes could be met and attention spans wouldn’t wander too much. We had five performers under the age of eighteen, the youngest looked to be ten. All of them sang, but their pieces were diverse. I was not disappointed in a single performance. There was so much potential in this small group of youth, I wanted to make all of them winners. One of the young ladies I had met in a harp class I had taken that morning, and her mother was eternally grateful for this opportunity to perform before an audience. She was generally a shy but happy individual, so I can see why this meant so much.
Next up were the Warrior Bards. We had every martial except equestrian represented in the competition. Again, I cannot express how exciting and important it is to not only have a turn out, but to also have one this diverse. We had song and story, poem and improv dictated by the audience.
Finally, we had the main event. All of the eight competitors were allowed to present both of their pieces, however, one at a time and randomized. From the eight competitors, the field was then narrowed to two. They were then given the challenge to write something about the Barony. They were given thirty minutes to compose anything, a song or couplet, story or lyric. While they were composing I had the difficult responsibility of talking to somebody I called friend and letting them know why they didn’t proceed to the finals. My heart sank, and although I was angry at having to do so, I worried I would potentially discourage an incredibly talented human being, I vowed to do my best to do the opposite, and encourage her the best I was able.
Each of my peers performed their individual compositions, both vastly different, but it was clear who would be champion that day. When the dust settled, it was announced the winners would be revealed in court the next day, as was tradition, and we would continue with an open bardic circle. It felt like the night had lasted forever, for both good and bad reasons. I mourned with my friend, but the incredible talent of the performers left my soul renewed.
The next afternoon, I processed into court the final time as a Baronial Champion. Before I stepped down her Excellency had honored me by allowing me to perform a piece before the entire court.After my performance, I first called the Child Bard, and presented them with a personal token; then I called the Warrior Bard. Then, the moment of truth. My successor had been called, and I got to dress her with the regalia, give her the box, and say, “So long, and thanks for all the fish!”
I then found a place in the crowd, and was a regular viking once more.
Meddlings of the Minnesinger 