Tag: Student

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A whole new world!

Pennsic is a home for many people who may not be as active in the SCA as they’d like to be. For those who are ridden with anxiety, even this town of 12,000 humans who inhabit here for up to two weeks can be a safe haven. For some, it can also be a place where dreams come true and things you would never have done can be realities… so also, dreams coming true.
This was Pennsic #2 for me. Riding solo but still having a group to camp with has been amazing. Mermaid’s song is a group of Bards and Fencers and yes, there is crossover. I arrive and set up my tent hastily. I made a new friend as we had new camp mates. Atilla was kind and welcoming and helped me set up my tent, hastily as, in true Solveig fashion, I have overbooked myself and I don’t really know how to say “no” yet. I’m working on it. With that, I was off to my first Pennsic experience for the year.
Hastily dressed I ran up the hill (Yes, that hill. I live in the bog) to the amphitheater. There was a non-English concert set up to happen. Sadly, there were no spectators, but I think that it made it less of a concert and more of a song sharing session. There were familiar faces and new faces. One face I had seen at this gathering was Heather Dale. For those of you who don’t know Heather, she is an SCA super star and professional touring artist with 20 CD’s available for purchase. It’s like meeting Robert Downey Jr. or any large Hollywood legend. I had met her previously the year before as I was part of Drake Oranwood’s concert which opened for Heather. I didn’t expect her to know or remember me as it was just a glance meeting, but low and behold, like a normal person, she greeted me, said hello and *gasp* remembered my name. I’m terrible with names. Clearly, she was not. I tried to withhold my awestruck words and tried to treat her as a normal person. I -believe- I succeeded. It was eventually my turn and I chose not to sing my best pieces. This was a chance to show languages. I pulled out an old piece I really should memorize.

by Ludwig Senfl (1534, German)
Es Warb Ein Schöner Jüngling
Es warb ein schöner Jüngling
über ein breiten See.
um eines Königes Tochter,
nach leid geschach ihm Weh.

Ach Elselein liebes Elselein mein,
wie gern wär ich bei dir!
So sein zwei tiefe Wasser
wohl zwischen dir und mir.”

“Das bringt mir grossen Schmerzen,
herzallerliebster Gsell.
Redich von ganzem Herzen
Habs für gross Ungefäll.”

Hoff, Zeit werd es wohl enden,
hoff, Glück werd kummen drein
sich in alls Guets verwenden,
herzliebstes Elselein!”
Once there was a handsome young man
from across a wide sea.
Pursuit of a king’s daughter
led him to great sorrow.

“Oh Elselein, my dear Elselein,
how I long to be with you!
But there are two deep waters
between you and me.”

“That brings me great pain, my
dear friend.
I say wholeheartedly this is
great misfortune.”

“Have hope that time will end this.
Have hope that fortune will change.
Have hope that all else will fall into
place, beloved Elselein!”

The rest of the first evening was pretty low key afterwards. Bird the Bard and I spent the rest of the night singing into the hours.

Day 2! Saturday! Low key day as well. Several months prior to I had been asked if I would sing at the East Kingdom/Midrealm invitational Bardic. This was -HUGE-. This is a display of the best/up and coming Bards the kingdoms had to offer. There was no competition involved, just performance. It was certainly quite the show. I had chose to do Amarilli, mia Bella. This piece has a lot of emotional attachment to me as it’s a piece of music I have been doing long before the SCA.

Amarilli, mia bella,                 Amaryllis, my beloved,
Non credi, o del mio cor,       Do you not believe
dolce desio,                           Sweet desired one,
D’esser tu l’amor mio?           That you are my love?
Credilo pur:                            Believe only this:
e se timor t’assale,                 And if fear assails you,
Prendi questo mie strale        Take one of my arrows
Aprimi il petto.                        Open my breast
e vedrai scritto in core:           And see written in my heart,
Amarilli, Amarilli, Amarilli        Amaryllis, Amaryllis, Amaryllis
è il mio amore.                       Is my beloved.

Guilio Caccini (1551-1618). Composed in 1602 and the text was by Alessandro Guarini . Written before the development of the pianoforte (which was invented in 1700), “Amarilli, mia bella” was meant to be accompanied by the lute, which lends it a particularly intimate and hauntingly beautiful atmosphere. Even the words evoke an earlier time—the line, “Prendi questo mie strale” (take one of my arrows) evokes images of bows and arrows. Any performer of “Amarilli, mia bella” will want to sing with a hushed sotto voce (soft singing) throughout with exquisite legato phrasing.
Who decided that waking up prior to 12 on a Sunday was a good idea!? Oh wait… it was the best time for people to meet. ***SIIIGHHHH**** It was time for the EKCOP annual Pennsic meeting. Honestly, I think it was a really constructive meeting. I’ve been the deputy Chatelaine for almost a year now and It was really nice to see how our work has been going and what people had to comment on it. At this meeting I was nominated for Chancellor. I, however, was floored seeing the unanimous vote for my nomination. I know I really care about this group and making performance a safe and tangible place for others, but I never thought my work had gone this noticed. The rest of the day was spent celebrating other delightful musicians such as Cedar Barefoot and the Queen’s Bard, Laila (celebrating her birthday).

Monday was spend rehearsing for our concert on Wednesday and Pirate debauchery at night. Bird has spent many years as a Shantyman. I have always enjoyed a good shanty, but have never thought much about singing them. I was a bel canto singer. We sing pretty. Shanties are for the rough and tough pirates and seaman!!! (Get your head out of the gutter). However, I felt like getting out of my comfort zone. Roll the Old Chariot Along was my song of choice and belting was my game. Mind you, belting is -not- my forte, but the belting muses hit me in the face like a sack of flour. WHOA where did that sound come from!!!!??? I was elated that my voice was continuing to mature. For those of you who don’t know, you go through several vocal puberties during your life. The bigger and darker your voice is, the longer it takes to mature. Mine, according to my voice teachers from college, would be done around age 35. Joy! I digress.

Tuesday was more laid back… I think. Around 11 or so, Bird and I climbed up the brewer’s road hill, filing everyone’s favorite past time song, “Baby Shark”, to motivate us in the intense sun. We eventually made it to our family gathering where the Bard Yard could just relax and enjoy each other’s company. My Laurel and all connections to her, have become some of the most supportive and people in my SCA life. I’ve talked about brain weasels before. They continue to persist. Having a family like this as a performer is essential for building that skin up. I wouldn’t change anyone in this group for the world. Later that night, Bird and I had donated a concert to the royal travel fund. We made our way into the camp of the winners. It was a very “dry” setting despite the alcohol freely flowing. Everything from period pieces to ruckus was performed for an hour. I’m not sure how I felt about this, but I was later told that it was enjoyed. Sometimes, it’s nice to just perform and not peacock. Getting to sing/perform your non forte pieces is a relief sometime.

Wednesday! Oh man. This. This is what you’ve all been waiting for! This would be the day when we would strut all our stuff. I say we, because Bird and I were inseparable this whole war. It started with a very prestigious performance. We had been invited to perform at queen’s tea. That is the big time. Only the “right” performers got to do that. It’s a very specific setting where you are background, not the center of attention. To be invited to perform for this meant you knew how to be unobtrusive, appropriate and a good performer. Bird and I also used this as a warmup for our concert…. Which was 2 hours after. The pieces performed will be discussed after. We were presented a few tokens from attending queens and thanked for our service. It was super magical. It really felt like I was a hired performer in ye olde times… despite some of the modern accouterments. From there, off we went to present, for the first time ever “Song Byrds”. Originally this was supposed to include Collete la Trouvere, however, life happened, and it was just Bird and I. We spent a good amount of time trying to break the concert in to 3 sections that would compliment one another. The first was all period pieces, the second was SCA appropriate/Filks and finally original compositions.

Below is the concert in it’s entirety. Enjoy!

This was the best week of my life, filled with so much song. I regret not being able to perform at the Opera dell’est concert as my voice was shot from the war, but I do not regret having all the opportunities to sing. This only fire up my need to perform more, but I made more connections and started digging for more repetoir!
On an unrelated note, I did meet up with a super amazing lutenist and got to jam to some Dowland with her.

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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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The Feast of St. Nicholas in Queen Elizabeth’s Court

I’m King Henry the VIII I am!

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.

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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.

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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!

 

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The Maiden of the Gardens

Through solitude’s blooming orchid garden,
A graceful and elegant maiden does stride,
Enters our lady, Camille Desjardins,
Lavender waves across an amethyst tide.

The flowers herald her arrival,
Blossom with each step serene,
As if her presence Spring’s revival,
All in her grace stay evergreen.

Careful she gazes upon their beauty,
with every floret’s form observed,
For she accepts her kingdom’s duty,
to see them on a scroll preserved.

Her brushstrokes capture and acclaim,
the trappings of renown and glory,
To skill and service she does bring fame,
And to great battle, and claimed quarry.

Upon her parchment she infuses,
Life into the artistry she weaves,
She is the favored of the muses,
Her inspiration the lakes and leaves.

She captures the beauty of color and light,
Immortalizing honors with ink and quill,
To bring glory to those who do right,
Her patient hands bear unwavering skill.

This art alone could be life’s labor,
Yet her talent flows without such bounds,
Her voice, her stitch, her nimble saber,
The quality of which astounds.

Her voice can soothe a heart of fire,
Granting peace and granting reason,
As a lark’s call disperses ire,
that sounds upon the warming season.

Her mastery of fiber weaving,
Shows clearly within her stitch,
The way she blends fiber receiving,
awe from those it does enrich.
And none would dare to test her mettle,
As this gentle flower does adorn,
Herself with not just purple petal,
But with our kingdom’s golden thorn.

A woman finely celebrated,
In talents stitched and inked and floral,
Does rightly need be elevated,
Into the Order of the Laurel.

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Birka 2016

Shopping!!!

This is where you find the viking. This year, she’s up to no good, and by no good, I mean super secret, kill you if I told you no good. I had gotten wind that my teacher, Aneleda (though only for another day, OMG the year went too fast!) was to get her Laurel this Birka. What do you give a Laurel when you can only draw pregnant stick figures? I was sure they had already chosen the best person to make her scroll, her wreath, her cloak, and I knew my skills just couldn’t compare to those that had been chosen. What could I add to this occasion?

How about the gift that she’s been trying to enhance?

I put myself to the challenge that I would compose a song for my new-to-be Mistress about the best subject I could think of: her. I destroyed pens and pencils and perhaps a few computer keyboards while trying to make the lyrics befit her eloquence. This was no small task. Finally, like a load of bricks, I was hit by the muse.

The words poured out like water from a fall. I was mostly happy, and then I rewrote the entire piece about five times over, everything from the meter to the accents to pure word choice. Then came the music. It had to be folk-like. Because that’s what it called for. So not to forget what I had composed, I recorded a copy into my mundane recording device (aka my phone), and practiced it ad nauseum (I think I sang it in my sleep a few dozen times).

Once I had known Aneleda had safely received her writ, I reached out to her to find out if I should run the rounds class in her place, since she’d be just a tad bit busy. She agreed, and I did so. There was nothing profound about the rounds, but the sheer number of voices coming together to sing made me happy, and always makes it worthwhile.

It was then time for her vigil. The ad nauseum I was talking about? That’s turned to nausea, and let’s add some knees shaking, just for fun. This is something I had poured my heart and soul into, for someone I admired. Liquid courage was needed. A friend of mine had dashed off to find me a beverage, which I quickly consumed, and I found myself called into the vigil. I drew the curtain back, and sat by the candlelight. I opened my mouth and poured out my soul. When I looked up from the music, I saw tears running down her face, and knew I had achieved what I had come to do.

 

The Ballad of the Balladeer

 

There is a tale set not long ago

Ventures a maiden, rare and bold.

Locks of silver, tresses of flame.

Her songs, her charms, her stories remain.

Fearless she seeks tales, ever forth.

Lo! The shield maiden appears from the north!

 

Besides you she sings, besides you she fights.

Circled by shield wall she’ll take up the pike

With bolstered hearts, the army ne’r yields

Joined the warrior, bard on field.  

Fearless she hunts legends, e’er forth.

Lo! The shield maiden appears from the north!

 

Warrior, friend, a sister on field

Ready for a tune and ready with a shield.

A leather bound book, great stories inside  

If you are not careful, you too will reside.

 

This Balladeer n’er will  leave your side

Your stomach soon filled as time would abide

A hearth ever lit where her songs resound

Souls never empty when she’s to be found

You will find savour burgeoning forth

Lo! The shield maiden feeds from the north!

 

Warrior, friend, a sister on field

Ready for a tune and ready with a shield.

A leather bound book, great stories inside  

If you are not careful, you too will reside.  

 

As fire lay dying, coals lay to rest.

Fellowship lines the walls of her nest

More songs, more tales, the crowd would plea

She’d exclaim, “Said you! post the last 3”

As stories of snails and epics came forth

Lo! The shield maiden sings of the north

 

Warrior, friend, a sister on field

Ready for a tune and ready with a shield.

A leather bound book, great stories inside  

If you are not careful, you too will reside.

If you are not careful, you too will reside.

If you are not careful, you too will reside.

 

Words and Music by Sólveig Bjarnardóttir

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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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Birka 2015

It’s time for Birkacon! This Viking’s favorite holiday, where she gets to shop until she drops, and then maybe sit in two to four hours of court and recover from shopping.

The shopping portion of our event went from the time I arrived, about 10, until 3, with a break to eat. I think. I hope I ate… Anyway, Aneleda had advised that there would be my second favorite things, singing and rounds, outside the fighter pits, at fighter-o’clock. I eagerly was early to her class, which was not formally in the site booklet. We sang for an hour, and then Aneleda took me to my first Vigil. I didn’t know who this person was, or what to say, but I clung to Aneleda like a frightened child holding fast to her mother’s skirt. Her son was a few years removed from this age, so I’m sure she was fairly used to it.

Then we sat down in the hall together, I don’t even remember what floor we were on, all I remember was we were fairly removed from the rest of the event, and it was quiet. I had been looking to start my bardic journey, but was in desperate need of guidance, and she knew that. My knight, Sir Marcus, had been scheming behind my back, to make this next event happen.

Aneleda, in her dulcet tones, asked if I would be her student for the next year and a day. Star-struck, I agreed, barely having a voice to confirm, barely having air to push through my vocal cords. I quickly told her a story I found extremely embarrassing because it featured her, and the only reason I did so was because I wanted to make sure this relationship was still kosher.

With her sparkling, warm eyes, and a curled tendril framing her face, she blessed this relationship with a smile. I was now ready to be the best bardic student I could be.