Mi Contra Fa

A Household Initiation Ceremony

More stuff from years past, although this one is more recent than I thought it was.  In 2009, someone asked on the Merry Rose mailing list for a structure for an initiation for new household members. I replied at length, first with a general format and then with a specific example.

 

I. Welcome and Invocation

The leader welcomes the initiate(s) and attendees and states the purpose of the gathering. 

II. The Initiate Is Informed

The initiate(s) are called forward.  The leader (or an assistant) describes the ethos and goals of the household and the duties, responsibilities and privileges of its members.  A brief history of the household may be included.

III.  A Pact Is Made

The leader asks the initiates if they understand their responsibilities, and the initiates reply with some version of "I do."  The leader asks if the initiates if they wish to join the household, and again they reply something like "I do."  Depending on the structure of the household, the attending members may be asked if they agree to accept the initiates and guard and train them, or the household's leader (may or may not be the ceremonial leader) may make the decision unilaterally.

IV. Tokens Are Given and Received

Some items symbolic of the household or of the pact are given to the initiates, and their symbolism explained to the attendees.

V. New Members Are Welcomed

The leader presents the initiates to the attendees as new members of the household.  There is cheering, hugging, ceremonial buffeting, whatever works for you.  If possible, a shared meal or refreshment should be offered.

Example:

For an imaginary household named Glad-Wood Hall.  It's main focus is A&S (early period and Anglo-Saxon in particular) although some members fight, and it's starting to become active in service.  Several founding members have small children, and keeping things kid-friendly is a priority.  Glad-Wood Hall is run by its founding Lord and Lady, and the household's scop will serve as the ceremonial leader.

Scop:
Hwaet! Hear me,   hearken my words
Welcome all comers   to wide Glad-Wood Hall
Travelers come  from Kingdom Atlantia
Seeking our fire   solace of hall

Aethelstan and Godwin, come before the high seat of Bertwald our ring-giver and Cynwise who bears the mead-horn.

Initiates:
(approach the lord and lady on their bench)

Scop:
Brave Bertwald   in bygone day
Raise our high hall    happy were we
Cynwise loves music     scops were well-fed
Glad-wood sang      Wonderful sound
So our hall named    for noise most merry

Know you, Aethelstan and Godwin, that Bertwald seeks peace in the land.  No coward he, and warriors welcome to our hall, but he seeks not out strife and blood.  Glad-Wood Hall he fills instead with learning and with art.  Bright Cynwise passes the horn to scribe and to scholar as well as to soldier - all are honored here.  Even the smallest, babes at the breast, be welcome when we set our tables.

Bertwald and Cynwise seek ever out new knowledge to ornament our hall.  They seek also a willing spirit, to help our hall-mates according to need and to ability.  Know that if you are in need, the men and women of Glad-Wood Hall will help you best they can, offer they knowledge or time or a strong back.  If you seek knowledge, it will be shared; your knowledge, you will share freely.  Do you understand our compact?

Initiates:
We understand.

Scop:
Lord Bertwald, Lady Cynwise, to you I present these far-travelers, seeking shelter in Glad-Wood Hall.

Lord:
You, Aethelstan, I have heard you are a scribe and also a tailor.  Is this so?

Aethelstan:
It is, your lordship.

Lord:
I have need of a scribe and a tailor in my hall.  Will you join your gifts to my household?

Aethelstan:
Gladly, my lord.

Lord:
Then take from my hand this ring of bright gold, and also this quill, so that you may do good work for us.

Lady:
You, Godwin: it is said that you are a gleeman of note, a singer of fine songs.  Is this so?

Godwin:
It is, your ladyship.

Lady:
Music is always welcome in Glad-Wood Hall.  Will you join your gifts to my household?

Godwin:
Gladly, my lady.

Lady:
Then take from my hand this silver penny, and also this cup, that your throat shall never be dry.

Lady:
Now drink you both from my mead-horn, and be welcome in our hall.

Scop:
Behold! Our guests   brothers become
Gleeman and scribe    great their gifts
Welcome them warmly    well-wishes bestow
Then sit for feast    food shared as family

Boasting the Anglo-Saxon Way

I was cleaning out my inbox and came across an arts-promotion piece I sent to our local baronial e-list in 2004:

So you're at Novice Tourney, squaring off against another newbie fighter.  How'd you like to strike fear into his or her heart by announcing your past victories to all?

You might recall the scenes of boasting from "Beowulf," if you read that back in high school Brit Lit.  Warriors got up at dinner and tooted their own horns, proclaiming their great deeds of the past as evidence that they'd go on to do further great deeds in the future.

For the sake of courtesy, keep it short - two or three sentences will have the desired effect.  For the sake of honor, keep it honest (or so over-the-top that it's clear you're being humorous).  For the sake of chivalry, keep it centered on you:  you can toot your own horn without speaking poorly of your opponent. You can congratulate your opponent on being so brave to fight such a warrior as yourself!  That gives honor to both parties.

Example:

Fact: I fought with Storvik at Kingdom Crusade one year.  Being short and new, I was put in the center front of the shield wall.  Also, I legged someone there.  (I died a lot, too, but the boast is supposed to accentuate the positive!)

My boast: Before you enter this combat, know that you are facing Teleri, who stood shield-to-shield with the spears of the East and did not flinch!  Who crippled one of the mighty Eastern warriors!  Who fights you today gladly and without fear.

Bonus Points: Use words that alliterate (start with the same sound).  Example: "Before we battle, hear my boast!"

Part of an ongoing (albeit intermittent) effort to convince people they can integrate the bardic arts into day-to-day SCA activities...

Fifteen Minute Experiment

So, I generally come back from things like KASF and the Somerset Harp Festival inspired and frustrated.  Inspired, because there's so much neat stuff to do!  Frustrated, because I'm something of a perfectionist and that's not actually a good thing.  I want to do it all, do it now, and be great at it (without having to go through that horribly embarrassing 'making mistakes' part).

I mean, I try to get over it.  "Research means hitting wrong notes" and all.  But there's a certain critical mass of project ideas, skills needed, and time needed to improve said skills that's a bit paralyzing for me.

I'm going to try allocating just fifteen minutes a day to Art Stuff.  I have some fannish Art Stuff to clear out of my queue first.  Then, SCA Art Stuff.  Maybe musical practice.  Maybe working on the Lyre Handbook. Or sewing. Or calligraphy. Or whatever.

Fifteen is more than zero, which is what I usually get because I can't have 120 minutes.  Way, way back in college, I was so proud of my ability to get things done, often by making use of periods of time as small as 15 minutes.  That might be just one thermodynamics homework problem done - but then that was one I wouldn't have to do later.

I may be underestimating the mental downtime I need to recuperate from work/commute (mostly commute, I swear).  But it seems like I ought to be able to find fifteen minutes somewhere.

 

Art and Performance

I argue that "fun" and "authenticity" are not two poles of one axis, but rather independent, perpendicular axes.  So there can exist performances which are fun and authentic, fun and inauthentic, unfun and authentic, and unfun and inauthentic.

The "sweet spot" for SCA performance seems to be well up the "fun" axis and about centered on it.  That's "SCA appropriate" - maybe inauthentic, but too much; maybe authentic, but not too much.  It's close enough to modern to be accessible but also not "glaringly" modern.  Ideally, it is somehow evocative of the Middle Ages "as they should have been" as well.

For examples, consider the collected works of (say) Mistress Rosalind Jehanne.  "The Song of Roland" falls on the "authenic" side of the fun axis (but not too far - it is not, after all, a reconstruction of the chanson).  "At the Battle of Maldon" ambitiously captures the alliteration of the original, but also imposes meter and rhyme on it.  This fits it much more firmly into our modern performance idiom.  It makes it more accessible - that's the second time I've used that word, and I think it's important.  It's hard for something to be fun if you don't "get it."  Mistress Rosalind's work is marvelously accessible and brings some actual medieval stories and themes to people who might otherwise assume it would be boring.

As I'm  brainstorming ideas for a performance project, I find myself torn on this idea of accessibility.  Part of me wants to lump it and strictly pursue Art (and you should probably imagine that word all in pretentious fancy Gothic letters).  That's the part of me that's fascinated by the Anglo-Saxons and wants to try and bring their words and performance to life in the most accurate way I know how.

Then there's the bard part of me who wants a happy audience.  While I do  believe there would be people who would appreciate a very authentic re-creation, it is not going to hit that "fun" spot for most folks, because it won't be accessible. It'll be weird.  Good-weird, hopefully, but weird all the same.

So I found myself pondering parallel performances: the "real" one and the "modernized" one.  Say, the onion riddle in direct poetic translation vs. the onion riddle rewritten in three rhyming quatrains of iambic tetrameter and set to repeating music.

I don't think I really want to do that.  I think I feel like I need to, to satisfy this imaginary audience.  Maybe the brave thing is to try the weird performance and see how it flies. 

Writing Popular Songs

An observation from Performer's Revel:

Scadians love narrative.

We do get the occasional lyric or other form.  But we adore story-songs.  There are, for instance, far more songs written that tell the story of two people in love than there are professions or complaints of love.  Songs that tell the story of one man who goes to war are more numerous than songs about the idea of war.  There are far more songs about magic than there are incantations.

So, if you want to write a popular song, I would advise you to write a narrative song.  We've got period models for that, so you can have your popularity and authenticity, too.  In fact, I am beginning to suspect that the easiest way to slip period performance vegetables into people's bardics is to do narratives.  Just not 10000+ line ones.  That's pushing it.

Extending the metaphor

I credit Chalice of the Sun God, 2007, with giving me the realization that performance could be researched and documented like any other A&S - or indeed, like my 9-to-5 job.  Part of my job description involves writing technical papers about my research.  One aims for journals, but especially for quick, incremental papers documenting progress on a larger project, conferences are just fine.

It occurs to me that KASF is our annual A&S conference.  I'm even preparing a poster, for goodness' sake.  If I were going to a professional conference and presenting a poster, I'd have copies of my paper(s) and business cards.  I should have something of the same for KASF. 

What would people want to take away?  I flatter myself to think some of the class notes and some of the sheet music might be of interest.  Some of the fully-documented pieces, probably not so much.  SCAdians in general would rather have information they can do something with, rather than a (unpublished amateur) reference.  But I may bring a few copies of some of the projects I'm proud of, as examples of good PA&S documentation, if nothing else.

As for business cards... why not?  With the Mi Contra Fa URL, of course.  I wish I had a GIF or JPG of my arms to put on them... oh well.  For the future.  Maybe some clip art for the present.

KASF 2009

Tonight, I plan to hit the Staples and the Michael's (craft store) for display items.  Foam core, photo corner holders, perhaps some trim to decorate the foam core.  I have binders and page protectors at home, plus some more report covers.

Binder One: Great Translation Project.  Includes Wulf and Eadwacer, I Am the Dark Woman, None Suffer, Robin Hood and the Potter, How I Like the Gay Times of Spring, The Armed Man

Binder Two: Original works

Display Panel Left: Community Performance (maypole, carols, Robin Hood?).  Oh, I wish I had pictures.  (Email Storvik list! Maybe someone does.)

Display Panel Right: Anglo-Saxon Performance.  Poems, classes, instruments (pictures of).

Display Panel Center: Historically Informed Performance. 

I should stage some photo ops.  I'm not sure how I feel about leaving a laptop on the table to do video playback; not that I have video recorded.  (But we have a video camera now! Score!)

Display 1.0

A quick trip to the Office Depot yielded decent results.

For Tempore Atlantia, I got a folding tabletop easel and a pack of professional report covers.  The covers are linen-look paper, embossed with some geometric shapes, and with cutouts.  You can slide in a cover sheet that shows in the front window (and highlights some ornamental cutouts for good measure).  Inside, there's a pocket for the documentation.

What it doesn't have is a good place to put the music; I've paper-clipped it to the back of the front pocket, that holds the cover sheet.  (I'm not explaining this well, am I?)  Suffice to say, you see a nice report sitting on an easel.  You open it up and there's sheet music on the left and documentation on the right.

I may leave a recorder with the entry, for "do it yourself" investigation of the tune.

For Poeta, I have another report cover that holds my nine-page entry.  But then my poems are buried inside it.  Not wanting to spill out for another easel ($15), I bought a cheap, colorful paper folder ($0.80).  I printed out full-page versions of my two poems and paper clipped them to the inside.  Now I can stand the folder up and open on the table and put the pretty documentation on the table in front of it.

I have ideas for fabric-covered foam core, with scrapbooking-style photo-corner holders set up to provide modular yet attractive places to insert papers.  Pros: Lots of space, easy to read, can be decorated with persona-appropriate borders and ornaments.  Cons: Will look like a science fair poster, somewhat large to transport, somewhat delicate.

Or: I leather-bind a 3-ring binder and decorate it like a medieval book cover.  (Or get some wood panels and do the book thing for real!)  That could be a project in and of itself.

(You understand we travel with enough baby gear to launch a toddler's assault on Mt Everest, and sometimes with my instruments.  Cramming a 12" x 30" x 1" pile of foam core on top of the garb, gear, instruments, stroller, etc etc etc in the trunk can be a challenge.)

Law 20

20. A bad design with a good presentation is doomed eventually. A good design with a bad presentation is doomed immediately.
 - Dave Akin's Laws of Spacecraft Design

I really have no time left to consider presentation on my entries for Poeta and especially Tempore Atlantia.  In Tempore Atlantia, I will be sharing a table with all manner of fabuous static A&S items.  A binder with some music and notes stuffed in it does not show well next to a Norman gown with hand-embroidered trim, glittering period jewelry, or detailed illuminations with gorgeous calligraphy.

In this case, it's a weak entry anyway.  Presentation will not cost me the competition; content will.  But in general, I should consider what kind of presentation I can give to my poetry and/or music.  And it should be modular: the artfully designed tableau meant to evoke a scribe's table might be fine when there's room for it, but an evocative and attractive binder might do for a crowded table.

Fame and Fortune

A passing observation:

When I call to mind some of the well-known bards of Atlantia or indeed, of other kingdoms, most of them have some particular specialty or style that I associate with them.  Indeed, observe these (somewhat dated) vitae of Atlantian bards.  Many of them call out to those specialties.

Not that any of these gentles is limited to those specialties.  I think of Yaakov HaMizrachi as a storyteller, but he sings and composes poetry as well.  Efenwealt Wystle is well-known as a funny, funny man, but he writes serious love and war songs as well.  Ruaidhri an Cu brings to mind Elizabethan-styled works in a Scots accent, but of course his repertoire is larger than that - and he heralds a mean court.

But there is something to be said for being "the one who does X," if recognition is your goal.  Advertisers call it "branding," and I don't know if they took that term from cattlemen or not.  But it serves the same purpose - it marks something out.  To sell something - whether it's soap or your performance - your potential customer has to know what it's good for.

So what are you selling, and who is your market for that?  I wouldn't recommend trying to "sell" anything you don't like to perform.  The widest market in the SCA, by far, is the traditional music one.  It also has the largest number of "sellers" singing in it, and you'll need to establish your brand quite cleverly - perhaps by using an instrument, singing with a partner, or even just maintaining a distinct persona.  But if you're not interested in traditional music - or at least, not interested in making it "the thing you do," accept that you're pitching to a smaller market.

That's okay.  And there's nothing wrong with trying to "grow" your market - trying to bring your specialty into the SCA mainstream to increase your adoring audience.   A more specific specialty will probably get you faster name-recognition - "Hey, it's the hurdy-gurdy guy!"  - even if it doesn't bring as much popularity.