| 1.The
Path to the Well
Once Upon a Time / In a Faraway Land / Where the Fox and the
Hare Say Goodnight / The Villagers Awake
In
Bordonia an evening of dance is not simply a distraction from
the trials of the day, it is an attempt to turn these trials
into pleasures by capturing them in socially pleasing forms.
It is thus no co-incidence that this dance, which mimes the
first chore of the morning - treading the slippery path to the
well, drawing water and swinging the buckets over the shoulder
for the trip back home - is invariably the first dance of an
evening. As it is not a difficult dance, it is also often the
first one of Spring, the season for simple dances which even
children can do. Although chaining is an age-old figure, at
least two of the dance's figures, the galoping and swinging,
suggest a 19th century origin to the dance. Indeed, the tranquillity
alluded to in the tune titles may point to a composition sometime
between the Napoleonic Wars and the great mid-century drought
and migrations, a period when the paradise which the Bordonians
lost in the 18th century as army after army criss-crossed the
surrounding lands, was briefly recaptured. The industrialisation
of this period, while connecting more and more cities with railways,
rendering most rural regions economic backwaters and drawing
millions of folk off the land and into the urban centres, idiosyncratically
gave the damp twisted doona that was Bordonian culture, the
space and time to spread out, dry and be of use and comfort
to its people again.
2.
Stomping Around
Ashby's Jig / Bouncing Back
A
dance archaeologist digging though layers of culture will always
eventually strike upon the circle dance. People on every continent
have, from earliest times, danced in circles. Even chimpanzees
dance in circles. The form seems to be a natural consequence
of hominid anatomy, and a corollary to gathering in a circle
around a fire or in a hut. Though Europeans for a period ascribed
to the circle dance a greater mystical significance, by the
renaissance variants were being danced simply for the communal
pleasure they offered. The 'branles' (brawls) of 16th century
France had lots of showy footwork as dancers holding hands moved
to one side then the other. The 'rounds' of 17th century England
had lots of going-in-and-out and clapping. The dance here described
has both - perhaps the result of autochthonous styles blending
with that of the English who married into the Bordonian population
in the early 17th century. The grandchild of one such marriage
was the great dancing master Egan Hrodnj. The tunes were almost
certainly written by Hrodnj for his eldest son Ashby, an Old
Norse name meaning 'place of the Ash tree' and used wherever
Vikings went - such as in the northern parts of England from
where Hrodnj's forefathers came. The second tune compliments
Ashby on the spirit he showed from an early age in coping with
recurring periods of epilepsy.
3.
Dizzy Mixer
Zeno's Arrow / The Monk's Nightmare / The Effendi's Turban
Bordonians
always try to ensure they do this dance with an odd-number of
couples as it adds a playful urgency to the need to find new
opposites before the tune comes around again. They differ, however,
in their understanding of the dance's significance. The people
of Dudelsac see in the dance the triumph of distraction over
experience as dancers repeat their philandering ways in circle
after circle. The people of Nenjira, however, explain the image
of the same circles giving rise to different figures and different
partners in terms of the malleability of knowledge, a subject
of much interest to early Bordonians - the Valley of Earthly
Delights' main monastery in medieval times having been devoted
to the study of the ancient Greek sceptics. The tune titles
certainly betray an interest in the question of 'what it is
to know'. Thus the allusion in the first title to Zeno's paradox
of an arrow never reaching its target as there is always a smaller
interval through which it must first travel. Contemplation of
this paradox may have given the monks nightmares - but their
studies on the theme of perceptions continued. They appear to
have even heard the tale of the Muslim folk-hero the Effendi
Nazrudin, who, when taken by an illiterate man to be learned
on account of his beautiful turban, gave the turban to the man
and suggested he could now read his own letters.
4.
Fancy-Free Flirting
Dressed for the Ball / The Mirrored Corridor / The Swirling
Gowns
Here
is a waltz which involves no waltzing - no waltzing, that is,
in terms of rapidly turning in a ballroom hold. Indeed, it is
possible that this waltz predated the advent of the smooth ballroom
floor which facilitated gliding turns. There were indeed many
triple time dances which predated the modern waltz - witness
the showy galliards and tordions of the French and Italian courts,
the twirling bourr¯es of the French peasants and the knotty
lÌndlers of the Austrians. In the 17th century Bordonians created
triple time dances which combined turning as an open couple
with sharing weight in group formations and in the 18th century
these dances moved from the crossroads to the ballrooms of Terpsichorea.
There, as in other ballrooms around Europe, a more rapidly turning
waltz evolved, but some of the earlier figured waltzes continued
to be danced on the new floors without the addition of a dizzy
rotation - and this would seem to be one such dance. Although
lacking an intimate hold, the opportunity is not lost to make
as much eye contact as possible when going around, balancing
or turning neighbours. Flirting was considered an essential
part of dancing. The tune titles describe entering the city
of Terpsichorea's main ballroom, approached as it was via a
dog-legged mirror-lined corridor in which guests could make
a last minute check of their dress and coiffeur.
5.
Nymphs and Satyrs
Out for a Ride / A Beautiful Day / Sunshower
This
dance goes back at least to 17th century, when the Bordonians,
fascinated by all things Italian and Greek, made gods and goddess,
nymphs and satyrs favourite themes for 'Masques'. The fancy
footwork and stage props of the original courtly spectacle have
fallen away, but this dance still captures the spirit of the
event - the opening display representing the arrival of the
outrageously dressed gate-crashers and the mixed circling representing
the 'commoning' which followed as masquers pulled as many bystanders
as possible into the dancing. Whether the dance goes back even
further via those English who settled among the Bordonians to
Medieval 'Disguisings' and 'Mummings' or has an autochthonous
origin in bucolic European spring fertility rites is, however,
unclear. The people of Nenjira certainly believe it goes back
to the grotesque pagan rites in which not they but their neighbours
across the lake used to engage once-a-year. They say Dudelsac
village elders sanctioned such cavorting right up into living
memory but Dudelsac elders shrug off the allegation with a smile
and turn the conversation to the tunes which they say were written
by a piper after he had to beat a quick retreat to his home,
when an outing to play some tunes was interrupted by ominous
spitting from the heavens. The people of Nenjira say only someone
from Dudelsac could be so pedestrian in his inspiration.
6.
The Gates of Terpsichorea
The Story Teller / Spinning Tales / Embroidering Truths / On
the Rug before the Hearth
There
has never been a city which has not been described by someone
as 'at the crossroads' or 'of strategic significance'. The description
is inevitable as every town in the world invariably lies between
four other places and people, while confident they deserve their
own good fortune, invariably see their miseries as imported.
The people in the Valley of Earthly Delights proved no exception.
A decade or so after the end of the Thirty Years War the people
from the rival villages of Nenjira and Dudelsac decided to throw
off their fear of engaging the rest of the world and to build
a city which generations to come would consider the cultural
heart and economic epicentre of Europe. Their new city, lying
as it would across the strategically significant crossroads
of the continent, would need four gates - one facing west towards
the German and French speaking lands, one east towards the Slavic
and Hungarian speaking lands, one north towards Nenjira, the
lowlands and the Baltic, and one south to Dudelsac, the Alps
and the Mediterranean. Unfortunately, the advent of yet another
city inside a Holy Roman Empire which had nearly 2,000 separate
member territories, hardly attracted any notice. The city of
Terpsichorea fell so short of the hoped for cosmopolitan metropolis
that it repeatedly crumbled for want of use and, as in the dance,
had to be rebuilt eight times.
7.
Yarralumla Rumba
The Kettle's Whistle / A Magic Brew / A Stirring Sip
This
simple fun dance is particularly favoured by Dudelsac adolescents
who revel in the opportunities offered for kissing and bottom
bumping, and see the dance as nothing more than an excuse for
intimacy. Although the reverse greeting even gets the older
folk of Nenjira smiling, they will remind listeners that the
dance is actually an allegory on tea drinking - one of their
greatest love. The brew is swirled this way and that to help
settle the leaves, then brought to the lips for an almost erotic
sip. It works its way through the body till it hits bottom and,
being a diuretic, is quickly purged. The tune names seem to
support this interpretation. You can hear the whistle in the
first, smell the infusion in the second and feel the effect
in the third. Complicating the theory is, however, the dance
name. It is known that many Bordonians migrated to south-east
Australia in the company of Wends and Germans in the mid-19th
century, settling in particular along the Murray and Murrumbidgee
Rivers. At the junction of the later with the Molonglo River,
was the Yarralumla property. It boasted one of the biggest woolsheds
in the district, one used for many social dances. It is possible
that Bordonian emigres wrote back to Europe with word of this
dance venue and the dances they enjoyed there, and that this
Anglo-Irish style dance entered the Bordonian repertoire by
this circuitous route.
8.
The Celtic Spiral
Bagpipe Party / The Chest-Warmed Chanter / The Well-Soaked Reed
During
a drought in 1858 the falling water level of a Swiss lake brought
to light the waterlogged beams of a 2,000 year old settlement
and astonishingly ornate metal work, jewellery and weapons of
Celtic origin. Since then there has been much archaeological
and historical substantiation of a Celtic presence right across
central Europe. These people celebrated the interrelation between
all elements of the natural and cultural world. In their religion
Druids could transform themselves at will into animals. In their
art a circle, by widening at every turn, could transform itselves
into a spiral, which in turn could transform into a clutch of
birds or horses. Although galop steps belong to the modern era,
the name which the Bordonians attached to this dance suggests
a belief in a link with this earlier Celtic culture. The imagery
is reinforced by the tune names, the bagpipe being one of the
main instruments in the ancient Celtic world, having, in a period
of questionable sanity known (for other reasons as well) as
the dark ages, substantially replaced the harp as the most favoured
instrument. In Bordonia today a party without bagpipes is unimaginable.
Two customs at such parties are also alluded to in the tune
titles. A player will bring a cold pipe chanter up to pitch
by putting it down his shirtfront and soften a hard reed by
soaking it in an alcoholic spirit.
9.
Red Rocks Bourr¯e
The Willow's Caress / The River's Lead / The Rapid's Embrace
In
the mid-17th century the characteristic branle of the Auvergne
gave birth to a new dance, the bourr¯e - the exhuberance of
which is conveyed in a letter written in 1676 by Madam de S¯vign¯:
'It is the most wonderful thing in the world! The peasant men
and women have an ear for music as fine as yours, such lightness,
such talent! In short, I'm mad about it! I should like to send
you for your wedding two girls and two boys who are here, with
their tambourines, so that you could see this bourr¯e. Indeed,
the Bohemians are tame by comparison.' Although the dance was
never adopted at Versailles, it became popular on stages and
in villages across France and was brought to the Valley of Earthly
Delights early in the 17th century - some say by returning itinerant
dance teachers and/or grape pickers, others say by refuge-seeking
Huguenots. Whatever the case, the footwork and swaying of the
triple time version was soon put into dances such as this one,
capturing the twisting and turning of a snowfield-fed river
in springtime. The tunes allude to the seductive appeal of canoeing
down such a river - of drifting slowly under the fronds of a
weeping willow, being drawn out into the faster flowing water
and then rushing frightfully over a series of cascades. Tranquillity
returns when the canoe floats out into a calm pool below the
falls.
10.
The Bridges of Kõnigsberg
Mushrooms among the Acorns / Cranes on the Roofs /Balloons Overhead
Though
the set of tunes accompanying this dance may include some late
additions, thus the allusions to inventions of the mid-19th
century, this dance almost certainly goes back to Egan Hrodnj's
1738 Terpsichorean Alphabet and Hrodnj almost certainly
simply reworked a much earlier follow-the-leader dance. Thus,
in this dance figures similar to those found in the ancient
French 'farandole' and Karelian 'ruha' are twisted into an early
18th century English-style progressive sequence. Dancers get
to build and go under, not just one bridge, but seven different
bridges, the number of bridges across the bifurcating Pregolya
River to the island of Kneiphof in Kõnigsberg, the capital of
East Prussia. In Hrodnj's day this city was an important destination
for intellectuals of every ilk. Indeed, two years before Hrodnj
published his dance book the Swiss mathemetician Leonhard Euler,
working in St.Petersburg, published his proof of the impossibility
of crossing all seven bridges such that none is crossed twice.
Was this a coincidence and was Hrodnj simply exploring the problem
of going under all seven bridges at a time when Euler was exploring
the problem of crossing all seven, or, as distinguished contemporaries
working in the related fields of choreography and topography
did Hrodnj and Euler known of each others' work and was one
inspiring or teasing the other?
11.Lotsi's
Spell Sturdy
Beggars / Minstrels of Honour / The Up-Turned Hat
Though
the main influences in Bordonian dance and music are west European,
Bordonian instrumentation is very central European. The main
instruments carrying the tradition are instruments still played
in Lusatia, Slovakia, and Hungary today - the bagpipe, the hurdy-gurdy,
the clarinet, the zither, the cello and the three-string flat-bridged
viola or bracsa on which a chordal accompaniment is played with
an extra heavy bow and triple stopping. The people of Nenjira
say this dance and these tunes were written by Egan Hrodnj for
a particularly accomplished player of the difficult to master
bracsa. For the people of Nenjira the spell referred to was
the charm this Lotsi cast over the women he met, including to
the chagrin of some, women from their own village, but for the
people of Dudelsac it was the charisma and generosity through
which he spread the Hungarian music he loved so dearly into
non-Hungarian lands. Given this dedication, it is not surprising
that the dance starts with typical English Country dance figures
but ends up with a central European style following of the leader.
Similarly, it is not surprising that the tunes, a tribute to
that noble pursuit of busking, start off stately but end up
wild. In his day Lotsi might have experience both, being banned
by towns which regarded itinerant musicians as 'sturdy beggars'
and being licensed by ones who regarded them as 'minstrels of
honour'.
12.
Opposites Attract
Amarant Wedding / A Fine Reception /Into the Dizzy Night
There
is more in the tune names than the obvious indication that this
was a popular wedding dance. The first tune takes its name from
the mythical land Amarantos where flowers mature into birds
or butterflies. The transformation of one rare flower can be
brought on by being held by true lovers - who having had their
love confirmed, go on to get married. A wedding is naturally
followed by a reception and dancing into the night. Although
in later times Amarantos was believed to be somewhere in the
Pacific, before that it was associated by some with Bordonia.
Indeed, although Bordonians struggled for centuries to keep
strangers from finding their land, the tales of those who did
may have helped to give rise to the mythology surrounding a
'Valley of Earthly Delights' in that part of Europe, and helped
sustain those in the Middle Ages who believed the Garden of
Eden (Eden being the Hebrew word for 'Delight' or 'Pleasure')
was to be found in some rarely visited part of Europe. With
the rapid expansion of Europeans' geographic horizons, the fabled
paradise was forced to recede into the distance, but the toponym
'Valley of Earthly Delights' remained linked with the land of
the poor Bordonians - who themselves as individuals felt on
average no happier or sadder than any other people in any other
land.
13.
Dancing in the Meadow
Picking Flowers / Making Chains / Twisting Twigs / Donning Wild
Spring Garlands
Spring
is a time for young folk to roam the fields collecting material
for elaborate garlands to be worn on three special evenings.
The first is early in the season, while the frost is still on
the ground, and a large bonfire in the centre of the meadow
helps keep the encircling dancers going late into the night.
So old is this particular dance that although everyone in Bordonia
knows it is essential to banishing winter and welcoming spring,
they're not sure why. Most from Nenjira see the jumping and
chaining as representing the picking of flowers and the working
of them into garlands - representing the triumph of spring -
so dance with quiet precision. Most from Dudelsac, however,
see in the jumping and chaining an opportunity to drive away
winter spirits, so dance with noisy gusto. The first festive
evening of the season ends with this dance getting faster and
faster till all fall down and toss the garlands they are wearing
into the fire. At the mid-spring garland-wearing evenings there
is often no fire, and the girls toss their garlands towards
the boys - the catcher being entitled to kiss the thrower. At
the end of the spring garland festival, the boys are again called
on to catch the girls' garlands, and those so matched partake
in mock weddings and are obliged to go to the first dance of
summer together. These mock weddings often lead to real weddings
several summers later.
14.
The Clap Waltz
First Waltz / Aylwen's Waltz / The Straw Hat Waltz
The
French revolution ended highly mannered dancing and opened the
way for a dance which Mozart regarded as so different from the
formal French ones that he called it the 'Deutscher'. Others
called it the Waltz, from the German 'to turn'. Many thought
it indecent and wanted to ban it. Thus the 1799 book Proof
that the Waltz is the main source of the weakness of body and
mind of our generation, thus L.-J. Vig¯e's declaration in
1804 'I can understand that the mothers like the waltz, but
I cannot understand that they allow their daughters to dance
it' and thus the protest to The Times in 1816 that 'So
long as this obscene display was confined to prostitutes and
adulteresses we did not think it deserving of notice; but now
that it is attempted to be forced on the respectable classes
of society by the evil example of their superiors, we feel it
a duty to warn every parent against exposing his daughter to
so fatal a contagion'. Others thought the dance outrageous and
wanted more of it. 'Une walse! Encore une walse! is the constant
cry'. The need for respite from the turning soon gave rise to
sequences such as this teasingly naughty Bordonian one. The
gliding chass¯e gives an opportunity for an elegant backward
glance to the trailing toe while the clapping sequence makes
hugging your partner almost impossible to avoid. The tunes were
dedicated by Jan D'Honger to his wife.
15.
Four Baskets
High Hopes / Quiet Affection
The
cotillion, an 18th century dance for 4 couples in a square,
was the French answer to the English country dance. In it the
emphasis was not, as in the Minuet, on perfection, deportment
and manners, but, as in the increasingly popular longways dances
from across the channel, on sociability. A cotillion would start
with a Grand Rond followed by figures danced first by the 1st
and 3rd couple, then by the 2nd and 4th couple, that is, by
opposite or contrary couple. These figures were linked by movements
call 'changes'- for example, 'La Course' or a promenade around
the set. The dance became known as the 'Contredanse francaise',
to distinguish it from the 'Contredanse anglaise' and from it
evolved the Quadrilles which in the 19th century travelled to
all corners of the globe. In most quadrille traditions from
Finland to Australia, Ireland to America, dancers repeatedly
return to their partner in place and the dance develops through
the addition of ever more figures or changes. In Bordonian quadrilles,
however, there was usually only one set of figures, albeit building
in excitement, and the dance develops through the changing of
roles, starting position, or, as in this particular one, partners.
Though this basket-filled square was written by D'Honger, these
jigs are generally supposed to have been written a century earlier
by Egan Hrodnj for his little boy Ashby.
16.
Indoor Games
This Way, That Way / The Misplaced Wife / The Mistaken Husband
/ Surprise from Behind
The
people of Dudelsac see in this dance the triumph of consensual
promiscuity - the tune titles telling the whole tale. Christianity
came late to the Valley of Earthly Delights and sometimes it
seemed it may never have come at all for in Bordonia pagan partner
swapping persisted through the pealing of church bells, the
turmoil of the reformation and the edicts of the counter-reformation.
The people of Nenjira, however, see in this dance a very different
tale - that of one of their many 18th century military defeats.
Although preferring to keep to themselves, events would occasionally
force the Bordonians to take up arms. On one such occasion,
after a brief sortie, the Bordonian force lost track of the
Prussian one around the shores of one of their lakes, only to
suddenly come back upon them and be driven into the forest.
As the dance makes clear, there they eluded the Prussians a
second time but were caught and dragged captive from the forest
by a competing Austrian force. Some informants make one or other
of the forces Russian, Polish, Hungarian, Bavarian, Saxon or
French, and some even have the debacle repeated at the hands
of a series of enemies - seeming only to illustrate further
the meagreness of the Bordonians' military achievement. While
every other nation has had its day of glory, Bordonia seems
to have repeatedly missed history's cue. |
