Tag: New Hampshire

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Harper’s Retreat 2018!

Time after time this proves to be my favorite event. This year was no different. I brought my S.O. Aegir with me. He got to experience his first “small” event since his first event was the Great North Eastern War. Little bit of a size difference. Fencing was first on the docket for the day. Stab stab all my friends. Nothing gets me in the mood to sing besides dancing (aka, fencing) with my friends. I didn’t come close to winning but boy did I have fun!

Later in the day I taught a class on stage presence and how to make your piece more interesting to the audience. I had 2 students show up and I was perfectly ok with this. They were two very different performers, but were able to utilize the same skills. The first young woman was a puppeteer and storyteller. She exclaimed her issues were volume and some stage fright. I proposed we use a counting up excersize where we would identify different volumes and then use different shapes of our mouth and words to bring her resonance forward. We also fixed different focal points by adjusting where here body and puppet were facing and worked on a few topics of tempo.

My second student had never been on stage before and had never performed in front of anyone before. We worked through a song he had prepared. We again talked about volume. In addition, we added movement to his body, keeping his eyes open and stage movement in general.

When the class was over, both advised they felt more confident in their skills and would add these into practice. The young woman put it into practice for the Warrior Bard competition that evening.

Feast was next! Probably one of the best feasts to date. The current Baronial Bard and Nexcellency, Keziah Planchette had requested some of the prior and present bards to come perform during the feast. Here is a clip of my performance. I think the liquid courage also made an appearance.

Harper4

 

 

That evening it was time to compete for Warrior and Baronial Bard. The guidelines for Baronial Bard were Courtly love and Virtues. In addition, due to the recent loss of our Baron (who passed away about a month prior) it was requested that we not sing anything sad.

For Warrior Bard I whipped out a quick one of my favorites, Laciate Morire (which, is not exactly not a sad song… but it was in Italian so I fudged the poetric translation).

For Baronial Bard I sang a Ladino piece, La Prima Vez and We are the East (By Drake Oranwood). I may not have won Baronial Bard, but I did truly win because there were very few dry eyes at the end of We are the East. #lifetimegoalsachieved.

The next day in court, I assisted with Heralding because hey, i’m loud! I can haz shouty voice! However, not too long after I had sat down, I heard my name requested in court. I was asked to join the order of the Lamp of Apollo. This is a Baronial Arts and Science award especially for encouraging others to do their art as well. The scroll was done by Keziah Planchett and the words lovingly composed by Amalie von Hohensee and Gerhardt von Hohensee. I was in tears as there was no better gift. (If you remember back to Birka, I had done the words for their scrolls)

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Birka 2018 – The First Voyage

My second largest pilgrimage of the year is to Birkacon, where vikings and Elizabethans alike update their bling. This year, I had virgin blood in hand, something all good vikings treasure. Except wait, no longer viking… As a proper late-period lady, I am introducing a good friend to upstanding society. In fact, my best friend.

With wide eyes full of wonder, and my vehicle exceptionally light for going to an event, we arrived at what would be the last time Birka was at the “Raddisson” (because the hotel is changing names, of course). A bag of fencing gear in one arm, the other armed with a small suitcase, and my best friend with his little back pack — clearly this was his first event — I led him like a sheep to slau- I mean, through the fields. This was a sight, of course, because my friend is an ex-military man, six feet tall, covered in tattoos, well built, and topped with a brown mohawk. He was quite a tall dwarf, he’d proudly proclaim.

We dropped our stuff and trolled in Friday evening, and as per usual, we could not walk more than five feet without being stopped with hugs and salutations. Steve quickly became an introvert. I proudly paraded him, proclaiming that this was his first event, and he was my best friend, so he better be taken care of.

This statement went to to the lowliest beggar to the highest of points and pearls, After unloading our items and having a quick meal, we would make him not-naked for the first time. I hurried him into garb, which I had been wearing for eight years now, and said, “Let’s party!”

That night he got his first taste of Birka, the friendly hospitality, and the beverages. Saturday morning came early, and it was time to show him the real event. I took him up to the fighters, and let him watch them wail on one another. Just over the railing, I myself suited up in my fencing gear and showed him how to feel people up — I mean inspect their kits; I am a proper marshal after all.

After a list-field-side court took place, it was time for me to have a taste of blood from my enemies. Typically I would choose to fence in the tournament, this was not for glory but for the learning experiences. However, I did not want to leave Steve up to his own devices for so long — we all know what type of trouble someone can get into on their own at Birka — so I had sectioned off one hour for pick up bouts.

I danced with friends and strangers alike, who then became new friends. The dance with a sword is a magic friendship builder. And when the hour was up, the sweat from my brow was quickly wiped on the body of my best friend, because I am a jerk.

We both decided to go change, and then hit up the shopping — the best part of Birka. I was going in disguise — I mean, my new later period me. I was decked in a Greenland gown, and my hair was wrapped in a veil. Bling was nominal, but definitely there. The elevators were surprisingly fast today, so with haste we made our way back into the great hall of Birkacon! Steve’s eyes exploded with wonder at how many sharp objects there were — and he could afford them!

His first purchase, of course, was on two wee-sized pocket knives. We continued to build his kit and expand mine, until it was time for Stonemarche’s Baronial Court. At Stonemarche’s court, I had been commissioned to compose words for two award scrolls. Where the words had been posted previously in my blog, I would like to note that I had asked special permission to herald these into court.

So many deserving people got awards this day, both in Baronial and Royal court. But when court was over, my true joy was to begin. It was time for Bardic Circle!

I had set up a circle of about 30 chairs, this was clearly not enough. Bodies began to pour in and fill the seats. And when we had enough people, I felt that we could begin. There were both locals and those from out of kingdom. There were some as young as ten years old, and some as old as in their sixties. We had stories, songs, poetry, Shakespeare, and instrumentals. We had skill from novice to master. And this was the magic of the Bardic Circle.

No one said, “I can’t follow that,” after all, that was my first rule. Everyone was supportive. In the middle of the circle, we had a brief interlude. Mistress Aneleda Falconbridge, who was co-running the circle with me, had announced that she would be taking her first apprentice. The bardic path is not an easy one, and to see the family and support grow is it’s own form of magic. Aneleda’s household took her new apprentice into their ranks so he would have a family in both the US and Canada. I swear I’m not choked up, these aren’t tears, I’m writing in the kitchen, someone’s cutting onions. Stop that, Karen, damn you.

My cup was filled with not only the alcohol that my best friend had been supplying me in my tankard of unusual size — TOUS — but my cup was filled with joy that is this community. We grow together, and we grow stronger and larger each day.

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Gerhard’s Scroll

This was a scroll commissioned of me for Gerhard’s von Hoehensee, Order of the Furisant

Amongst the chilled coals, arises an ember
stoking the surrounding kindling
The fire dances and begins to parry the cold
The fire does not dance alone
The fire teaches the flames to dance, to waltz
Sharpening their wit as is the blade of the rapier
Betwixed fine reignments, inspiring those who come after
The fire passes hand in hand and the fire grows stronger
Finely dressed within the ash and glows
What started the fire? We did not start the fire.
Gerhardt, the fursiant, bestowed his craft, his skill to enlighten us all
By his skill from the hands, his perseverance
Deemed it so by Baron Dorio of the Oaks
Deemed it so by Baronessa Jocelyn Del Espada

On this day, January 27, A.S. 52 at A Market day at Birka

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Scroll for Amalia

This was a scroll commissioned of me for Amalia’s von Hoehensee’s Lamp of Apollo

Oh yonder doth sit that little turtle dove, nay nightingale
Whos sweet rhapsody flows through not just music
But weaves and pierces the finest cloth
Each stitch is a note upon the melody of the cloth
Each stanza, a roving of the weave
Dulcet sounds and harmonies nestle into the thread
which is warmed by the heart and hands that are Amalia’s
Like a phoenix in her craft, sets the spirit a glow, a blaze
Pushing forth and reliving, creating each experience
She tests the purity of the cloth with fire
She lights the lamp of apollo which is now granted
By her skill from the hands, her voice
Deemed it so by Baron Dorio of the Oaks
Deemed it so by Baronessa Jocelyn Del Espada

On this day, January 27, A.S. 52 at A Market day at Birka

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Lochleven Sheep!

At Palio this summer, Baroness Jocelyn and I were chatting about the sheep that has been gifted to Stonemarche from Lochleven. She had a desire, nay, a passion to have the world know of these infamous sheep. Her excellency entrusted me to share their story. Here is the Ballad of the sheep!  Recording to come:

The Ballad of the Lochleven Sheep

By Solveig Bjarnardottir

Year Thirty five , Pennsic all were off
The gate was naked, Ewe the list’ner may scoff
What a way for the glory of the East
Than to guard the gate with a flock of sheep

Sheep, Sheep, Sheep
Rustlin’, Bustlin’ Sheep
Roaming free without their Bo Peep
They once were lost, but now are found
Keep an eye out for the sheep soon to be bound
Lo le lo le Lochleven
Lo le lo le Lochleven

Like the story goes, the herd did roam
The Sheep were missing, but not a Scottsman blows
A ransom laid, of mead well made
Libations for liberation , a splendid set trade

Hide and Seek, Stonemarche’s kids ne’er fail
The sheep were returned with no avail
Honors bestowed upon them at their feet
The taxes roll in without a single bleet

Sheep, Sheep, Sheep
Rustlin’, Bustlin’ Sheep
Roaming free without their Bo Peep
They once were lost, but now are found
Keep an eye out for the sheep soon to be bound
Lo le lo le Lochleven
Lo le lo le Lochleven

A new herd was granted, but something was a wry
Amongst the skein, they did lack all the eyes
A haunted face, an image dare burn
Into the minds of the Barony, all stomachs did turn

When gifted this splendid drove, to our Baroness
Discomfort replaced dreams about the new largesse
How could we make these noble creatures sans morose
Replace these emptied sockets with buttons to diagnose

Two Mismatched pupils, handsewn with care
These two baaaaaad sheep, now serve as Ambassador Heirs
No longer haunting, a fond memory they serve
For Stonemarche, the Children and all who hear the word …

Sheep, Sheep, Sheep
Rustlin’, Bustlin’ Sheep
Roaming free without their Bo Peep
They once were lost, but now are found
Keep an eye out for the sheep soon to be bound
Lo le lo le Lochleven
Lo le lo le Lochleven

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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.

 

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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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Birka 2017

Did someone say shopping?

*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.

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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.

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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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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.