Tag: Stonemarche

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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.

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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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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.

Image may contain: 4 people, people smiling, people sitting, table and indoor

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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.

 

Image may contain: 4 people, people sitting, table and indoor

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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.

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Palio

Palio is known to be an event full of family gathers and olympic style competition. The three contradas make up the entire Barony of Stonemarche, based on region. This year, I would get to participate.

I picked my team on who bribed me the most. Viking. Bling. I would be a member of Sole. I’ll admit I was there not just to compete in the games, but because the current Baronial Bard could not attend, and someone had to run Golden Tongue. It was strange to find myself mostly inspired by a four year old child. He was courteous as well as enthusiastic, and a damned good sport. I lost most of my day following this young individual.

That night, when the festivities were over, I found myself with multiple camping catastrophes. I didn’t bring my tent stakes. My air mattress cover was gone. My food was bleh. I found a nearby household who offered not only an air mattress, but their generous hospitality, all in exchange for song. I was in awe of their unselfishness, and perhaps had found a new home away from home for the weekend.

After I had had my fill of dinner, I was off to go make donuts — I mean, run Golden Tongue. Once again, Ruadh and I had paired up, since we had so much fun the previous year. I was amazed to see only three competitors, so I went around volentolding people. By the time I had finished, our competitors had tripled. We even had someone who didn’t know they were competing!

We had the eight knowing competitors, and then our one wild card, which brings back a fun memory. I didn’t mention this in my prior post, because I thought nothing of it. But the previous year at Harper’s Retreat, there had been loud, thudding noises during my performance. I thought nothing of it, as this had happened before.

This new eide-eyed performer began to tell a tale in eloquent detail, of a Harper’s Retreat where she was essentially playing a handmaiden for her friend. They had been sitting, watching the Bardic Competitions, when during the performance they were watching, they noticed a spider making its way up the dress of her “noble lady.” A silent scream escaped the lady’s lips as she began to panic: she was very allergic to spiders. In equal measures quietly and frantically as the handmaiden could, she tried to make a swift demise for said spider.

The lightbulb in my brain went on, and I finally found out what those thumping noises had been last year.

After she finished her story, I announced that Ruadh and I would step out to deliberate for the Champion. Our wildcard went doe-eyed. She apparently had also just put two and two together that this was a competition.

Ruadh and I made a swift decision and came back to make our announcement; though this time we held the prize until court.

The following morning, rested and chipper, I had gathered vocalists together to create a vocal accompaniment for their Excellencies procession into court. After all, what would the olympics be without music?

With permission, we had rehearsed Oriens Victoriosus by Mistress Aneleda Falconbridge. We rehearsed for an hour, and then they were free until court. I was pretty darn proud of our progress.

Time for court!

I grabbed my choir, even with harp accompaniment, and we sang as their Excellencies and retenue processed in. Once we finished, I remained standing with special permission, that young boy who had brought so much awe into my life deserved to be honored. I called him into court, and presented him a personal token that he so duly deserved. I found out later that his parents had been the autocrats. It was no shock to me that he was of their lineage.

Finally, as if it weren’t enough, I had put her Excellency up to no good. It was a dear friend of mine’s birthday that day, so I had conspired to have her Excellency to have him called up into court as if he had done something wrong. While his back was to the court, my choir members secretly passed out a copy of the Birthday Dirge to all in attendance. When he finally realized what was going on, the entire court raised their voices to celebrate his birthday with the dirge.

I’m really glad he wasn’t armed, or else I might not be here to tell the tale.

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Mentoring Dartmouth

Give it the good ol’  college try!

After winning Baronial Bard this year, I took is very to heart that I wanted to save and grow the bardic community. It was brought to my attention that we had a college chapter within the Barony at Dartmouth. I was close with Frenya, Estefania and Frostulf, who were serving as advisors to this chapter. I had first gone to meet the group when they were having their own faire/demo for the school. I went to show support and to get some music going. I met several talented musician’s in the group and offered my services.

My second visit to the school included me teaching a class on how to compose a Contrafact (Filk). We did this as a whole class. I had been working on one of my own, “Bow Hemian Rhapsody”. I brought the unfinished product into the class and then, we as a class worked through our own. I started with a popular song that most people in the class new like the back of their hand (No, there was no hair on the song and certainly no dried mustard).

The second class I brought was a master class. This is where a person would bring a piece that is pretty well worked on or in the process of being completed and we work on enhancing it in front of the group. This is a safe setting where you get to perform a piece without interruption and then we slowly and gently pick it apart to make it better.

The first brave soul was a young gentleman singing “When Johnny came home again”. His twist on it was painful and beautiful. When we finished working, everyone expressed they had chills and some had tears in their eyes.

Next, we had a young Harpist. This was an experience for me as I’d never worked with a stationary instrumentalist before. She was certainly skilled but where we could enhance her was in stage presence. We talked about eye contact, body movement and shaping her melodies and how her hands trailed from her harp. She stated that even she felt more connected  to the piece as well.

I made a few more visits up with the students until my reign was over.

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Stonemarche Yule

Season’s greetings! And all that falala. Christmas, Chanukah, and Kwanza have all passed, but now it’s time for us to celebrate with some logs and hidden babies in cake!

The household of Bard’s Rest, like it’s name, is notorious for making sure there’s entertainment at events, whether it’s alcohol, story, or song. This event would be no different. I had been told there was a need for performance, so I did what every good Jew does for Yule, and brings their Christmas songs. The room was filled with an array of homemade treats, chatter, and cheer — especially the alcoholic type. But what it didn’t have was music. I was still shy about performing in public, but with a little help from my friends, I had mustered courage enough to get up and perform. First I picked a few ditties of my own, then I received requests. Luckily, I brought my choral music as well, because then everyone wanted to sing.

Image may contain: 3 people, people standing

It wasn’t the prettiest arrangement, but the experience alone was enough to bring smiles to everyone’s faces. There was even a photographer there, singing out of the corners of her mouth while she captured everyone else having a great time. We would later reunite, she as Photographer-Girl, and me as That-Bard-Who-Sings/Hey Bard!

It was then I realized how much music could bring a family together, and this, of course, was meant to be a family event.

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Harper’s Retreat

So 2013 was my first year competing for Baronial Bard of Stonemarche; I admit I was both nervous and full of myself.

I was full of myself because I felt I was a shoo-in. I’ve been a professional singer since 2004; I had been doing a wide range of music my entire life, from singing to playing instruments such as clarinet, I have done both solo and choir pieces; I qualified for All-State Chorus all four years in high school, making it through regional competitions to gain that honor; I went to college for voice and music education. I scoffed at the idea that any of these non-professional singers holding a candle to me. Looking back, I now know I had a shitty attitude, and I truly underestimated the talent of the Knowne World.

I had one period piece to my repertoire — only to find out later that it was only SCA appropriate, and not period appropriate — and a few Irish traditional songs. Looking back, I know that these things don’t make a good bard. I was ill-prepared with nothing memorized or even off-book. And even with all of my experience, I was shaking like a leaf due to nerves.

I had been encouraged to compete by my warm and welcoming household, whom had just found out I could sing. I had been sitting at their house every Thursday night for months, and never once had I brought up the fact that I went to school for music. I had lost my backbone for performance, and had sworn off singing once I had graduated from college, partially due to family issues and partially due to self-confidence.

Anybody who is anybody has sampled a brew from Bard’s Rest — and the night in question I had sampled several — and knows these brews can cause inhibitions to be lost, and in myself, musical turrets to abound, so I had opened my mouth to sing. It was at that point, Kythe and Sine had asked if I had ever competed for Baronial Bard. They had advised in years past that numbers had been few, many of which would be recycled. I had been apprehensive, but with liquid courage and their silver-tongued persuasion, I decided, what the hell, I’d be a shoo-in.

So, back to the day of the competition, without the liquid courage running through my veins, I was no more than a shambling shack in the wind. I remember sitting in the audience talking to whom would soon be the new Baronial Bard; we laughed, we joked, we commented on the music and stories shared; we exchanged opinions, and encouraged one another to be the best that we could be. Even when my new friend had gone to perform, I still scoffed and thought I had it in the bag. I didn’t sing well, not nearly up to my own standards, nor apparently to the audience’s or the judges’, but again this false arrogance had sat with me throughout the day. I finished the night out as most bardic circles do: singing merriment, laughing, and enjoying the more relaxed environment now that the competition was over.

Next day in court, it was time for the moment of truth. It was like a bad movie scene where the goofy guy expects to get the job, only to find it goes to the more qualified person. In the same fashion, as they were calling the Baronial Bard, I stood halfway up before I realized it wasn’t my name they had called. I tried to make it look like I was stretching, as awkwardly as a boy on a first date putting his arm around a girl, as I inched back into my seat. After the moment wore off, more than half of me was happy for my friend, though I will admit there was a part of me that was crestfallen.

I was disappointed, sure, as any would be at the loss of a competition. However, I gained so many more things from that day: I met mingled with many performers of many unique backgrounds; made friends with the Baron and Baroness; and realized what it truly meant to be a Baronial Champion, it was not just about aesthetics, but about the spirit, knowledge, and diversity that go into being a musically inspirational leader. With this in mind, I was no longer discouraged and now had a goal for next year. Give or take a year.