Morris Man died on the Somme

George Butterworth; Morris Man and composer died on the Somme August 1916

On this day when the nation remembers its’ fallen heroes the Morris fraternity can remember one of their own who died on 5th August 1916.

Butterworth described himself as “a professional Morris dancer” and folk song collector before he became known as the composer who with Housman’s blessing set his poem “A Shropshire Lad” to music.  Collecting folk songs and Morris dances was the source of his inspiration and he became a friend of Cecil Sharp and a founder of the English Folk Dance Society in 1911.  He was a paid member of the EFDS demonstration Morris dance team three of whom were killed in 1916. 

Butterworth had joined as volunteer with the rank of Private but was soon commissioned and served with the Durham Light Infantry.  Butterworth won the Military Cross for his defence of a trench in Pozières which was subsequently named after him.  He died at the age of 31 from a sniper's bullet on the following night. 

Like many who died at the Somme he has no known grave but his name is included amongst the 73,357 listed as missing on the Thiepval Memorial near Pozières.  He is also remembered at St Mary’s Church, Deerhurst, near Tewksbury, Gloucester where his Grandfather had been Vicar.

 My thanks to the Vaughan Williams Memorial Library, The Guardian and Wikipedia

 

Megan Wisdom – A Serendipitous Suffolk Find

Hidden away in the North of Suffolk near the legendary Wissett treacle mines is a young talented, traditional singer and musician who has a growing reputation, both locally and nationally, for her pure voice and fine, clear singing style. At 24, Megan Wisdom is Suffolk through and through, she was born in Ipswich but moved at an early age to the north of the county. She went to school in Halesworth and Bungay and while there she started to develop her interest in music.

At the age of 7 she was taught at school to play the ocarina by her teacher and traditional music enthusiast, Judy Andrews. The ocarina is an unusual instrument known historically for around twelve thousand years and is a type of vessel flute. The English version of the instrument has 4 to 6 holes and is often produced in a pendant style and is easily portable. Megan remembers the first song played on the ocarina was the ‘Skye Boat Song’.

She was steeped in traditional music from an early age, as both her parents used to sing and play together as a duo. Her father, Paul, is a leading member of Rumburgh Morris and also sings and plays a concertina which he has designed and constructed himself. Her mother, Tracey, is also a local singer and a fine fiddle player currently playing with Harbour Lights Band amongst other projects.

Megan had many opportunities to develop her musicality. At Primary school she learned to play the descant and treble recorder and at middle and high school moved onto the alto saxophone. She was fully involved in all the school music activities: choirs, a wind and jazz band and school musicals.

Outside school, partly due to family influences, she developed a more traditional musicianship. She taught herself the whistle and used that in a local session that followed the Morris meetings in the Rumburgh Buck. Encouraged by her parents the first song she sang solo was ‘Red is the Rose’.

Read more: Megan Wisdom – A Serendipitous Suffolk Find

Winter Solstice

 A new season begins bringing with it the age-old winter festivals: a mélange of Christian and pre-Christian symbolism, celebrating light at a time when days are short, plenty after harvest and good company.

 At Winter Solstice last year we were invited to an old and lonely farmhouse deep in east Suffolk.  In the farm kitchen, little changed in centuries, were a group of people drinking and exchanging stories.  At a given time those of us who had no part in what was to come, were led out into the night by an elderly but spritely little lady.  Leaving signs of habitation behind, she sure-footedly led us through the dark along hedges, round woodland, through pastures and over stiles.  I was intrigued, but had no idea of where we were going or, for that matter, where we had come from.

 At length we crossed a narrow bridge leading over a river and through a copse to the garden of an old inn.  A menacing group of tall, black-robed, faceless and silent figures loomed out of the dark, standing sentinel, their heads lost in greenery.

 Lanterns marked a processional way across the garden and a crowd of people quietly waited for – what?  Eventually a tiny flickering light, a will-o’-the-wisp, appeared far away across the fields.  Slowly approaching it became a dozen flaming torches borne aloft by stern, black-faced, silent men in the garb of C19 farm workers.  Crossing the bridge, the only sound the thud of their hob-nailed boots, they filed between the lanterns to the courtyard and formed into sets for Molly dancing, the heavy rhythmic East Anglian form of Morris.  As the music began, some of the men stood guard, unsmilingly gazing out at the crowd as if protecting a mysterious and ancient rite.  Indeed I did have the feeling that here was something very old, a custom which had survived into the C21 in an isolated pocket of rural England.  It sent shivers up my spine.

 This was my introduction to Old Glory Molly Dancers and Musicians at the The Locks Inn at Geldeston.  Old Glory dance only during the winter, celebrating the winter festivals.  Their performances are characterised by a strong sense of theatre and if you want to see them wrap up well and get there early as there is often a torchlight procession to the venue. 

 Gill Brett

Doreen West - Stepdancer

After going to this year's Stepdancing competition at the Blaxhall Ship, and witnessing first hand the brilliant dancing of Doreen West-O'Connor, I decided I'd interview Doreen to find out a bit more about what she does and how she does it. This is my interview with her. (It's obvious, I know, but my questions are in bold type and Doreen's answers are in italics.)  Simon Haines

Thanks for agreeing to talk to me Doreen. Can I start by asking you how you would describe the step dancing you do to someone who had never seen it?
Well, it’s a free-style dance. I could learn you a basic step and then at the end of the day, obviously when you’ve learnt that if you like to add something else in to it, then you can.  It’s mainly about rhythm – you know. I always say it goes from the head to the feet. You know that’s the way I describe it to myself.

Who taught you?
I was self-taught.

But you must have seen someone else doing it, did you?
Yes, I’ve seen it hundreds and hundreds of times. My husband, Percy, inspired me more than anything - he was such a wonderful dancer. And he’d been dancing since he was eight. He had his own style – most steppers do have their own style.

Read more: Doreen West - Stepdancer

Morris at FolkEast

 

Local morris sides this year were represented by Pretty Grim, Green Dragon, Danegeld, Westrefelda and Treacle Miners with Green Dragon and Westrefelda also running workshops. For the first time another East Anglian side Chelmsford Ladies Clog were there and out in force. In addition to their stage performances they ran 2 excellent simultaneous workshops for adults and for 5-10 year olds and had performance spots at the ceilidhs: I was sorry to miss Chelmsford’s routine to “Till the Sun Goes Down” by David Jordan.

Read more: Morris at FolkEast

TONY HALL – Revered Melodeon Maestro and Folk Legend!

Born in Palestine, raised in Beccles, Suffolk, Tony, now 75, came upon his first melodeon by accident in the very early 1950s. His Uncle Sam visited from America (yes, Uncle Sam really was his name) staying with Tony, his two brothers, mother and father, and left the family his two-row diatonic Hohner instrument on his return.

At the time there were no other instruments in the family home, and Tony was the only one to show interest in Uncle Sam’s melodeon. He proceeded to teach himself to play by listening to a whole spectrum of music of the day mainly on the wireless, particularly that of Jimmy Shand, developing his own unique style of playing what he heard, unconstrained by academic musical conventions. He says modestly, “I could play the mouth organ, and it was the same system, except for bellows instead of lungs!”

In his own understated way, Tony characterises his style of playing as slow and lazy, while being gentle with the instrument. All of this is true to a degree, but, thanks to his exceptional musicality and supreme talent, he coaxes much more from the instrument than others, ‘painting’ rhythmic, multi layered musical ‘pictures’ of melody, counter melody and harmony with both treble and bass ends in a relaxed and apparently effortless manner; it’s as if he were playing with two pairs of hands at the very least. And his repertoire doesn’t simply comprise English, Scottish, Irish, American and French Canadian folk music either; thanks to his early, eclectic, musical influences he is as adept at playing the likes of the Trumpet Voluntary as the Trumpet Hornpipe, or accompanying himself singing anything from Sea Shanties to South American Blues. On top of this he pens and performs his own well-crafted songs and tunes, the former ranging from the hilarious to the hugely poignant.

Read more: TONY HALL – Revered Melodeon Maestro and Folk Legend!

The Old Glory Christmas Carol

(Good King Wenceslas, almost, visits North Cove)

Brightly shone the stars that night
Tho’ the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight carrying winter fuel

The torch burned brightly in the night
And its glow was warming
A crowd of ploughboys formed a line, ready for their twirling

Come young man and stand by me
Get ready for the Sportsman
The Whiffler says you know this one but often need reminding

Crunching boots on icy ground,
marching with a swagger
Turn and spin and don’t let go, in case you get a clipping 

Up and down and arm in arm, listen to the music
Swing me round and keep me close
Don’t you let me go now.

Round we go and back and forth,
the circle gently swaying
to strange rhythms that the band is magnificently playing

Wrapped up warm the crowd looks on
Hands and feet they’re thumping
The dancing stops, the band retire, done with Winter dancing

 Dave Evans