Launde Abbey, October 2004 - A  review from across the pond.........

Butch Ross

The idea of flying to England for the weekend seemed as ridiculous to us as it did to our friends on both sides of the pond, but I was looking forward to reconnecting to the great friends we made last summer as we barreled through the English country side, a Nonsuch directory in one hand, a prepaid cell phone in the other.

Back then our hosts for the night would rave about Launde whenever they could, insisting that we must go. They were so right. The Annual Gathering at Launde Abbey is an incredible experience, unique even among dulcimer events. Why? Well for one it’s English, which is it’s own thing, and I mean that in a good way. Two, unless your walking, the UK is not a big place, the Dulcimer community is by its nature tight knit, combine the two you get a dovecote of shared quirks, eclectic tastes and fun people. Third, it takes place in the middle of freakin’ nowhere! Meaning you've got nothing to do but play dulcimer, eat and drink. Weekend days are almost all workshops with several teachers from the Nonsuch ranks mixing with folks like Christie Burns and myself imported for the event. The classes are all well attended, though’ I reckon a workshop on how to play while pouring the perfect pint would probably draw the biggest crowds. (You writin’ this down Dan Evans?)

Friday evening was the annual meeting. Club meetings have never been my cup of tea, but this one was interesting and moved pretty quickly. Some seats shifted positions, with Sally Whitehead becoming the chairperson and Jenny Coxon stepping down from her “3-year tenure” as chairperson, 13 years after accepting the position! Afterwards the “easy-peasy” jam took place in the big room. Not that I was there, I spent the evening in the sitting room, listening and talking to Jim Couza. Anyone I’ve ever known to speak of Jim Couza has called him a “Very Big Man”; indeed he is, not in just a physical sense, but also in stature, the man is larger than life, full of tunes and tales, delivered in gravely baritone and more often than not accompanied by a song or two on an old dulcimer that seems to have lived as hard as the man himself.

Saturday was my big day to teach. I had had nothing to do with choosing the workshops I taught, outside of submitting a list to Jill Nicholas and John Shaw. As it turned out John did a wonderful job of choosing, not only the workshops, but their order, as I taught them It dawned on me that each of the workshop’s techniques was indeed building on the previous ones as well as providing a thorough individual lesson (if I dare say so myself). Thank you, John. If you should see me at some other festival doing the same workshops in roughly the same order, try and act surprised!

I should also apologize to some of you who did stick it out for all four workshops. Towards the end some of you were crying “full” and complaining of have more information than you could handle. I swear I tried to be terse and focused. In fact, I was worried that I might not have enough material to cover the hour! I hope you all enjoyed the workshops; I know I had a wonderful time teaching them

The second evening’s dinner was spent in a very lengthy conversation with Dan Evans about our axes, the business and all manner of dulcimeric things in Kentucky, You see, Dan is jealous that I live there, being his favorite state in the union and all. Another great chat but sooner than imagined it was time for the evening concert.

Just in case you’ve never been, the evening concert is an exercise in equality. Anyone, student, teacher, adult, child may sign up and perform anything they want (provided it’s not longer than 5 minutes) This year saw a variety of solo, small and large ensemble performances featuring everything from vocal and rhythmic improvisation, to fife and drum, a raffle, a whole host of dulcimer players and styles, and finally Bob and Chris Fitt’s wonderful “children’s” song. To my ears, what I found most surprising was the breadth of talent; nearly everyone who contributed (and that was nearly everyone) brought something unique and fun to the procession.

Afterwards, my attempt to sneak off to the bar was thwarted by Dan Evans, who, playing his “misery loves company” card, managed to get me suckered into the group dance at the conclusion of the performances. The Dance --an inglorious French circle dance that was One-half oversimplified Morris dance, and one-half “the Hustle”-- has me convinced that the French are best off sticking to Wine and Cheese.

All kidding aside, the dance was an absolute joy. It is rare that I make a total fool of myself intentionally, let alone be encouraged to do it.

After a now-warranted trip to the bar, the evening jams began. Again, wonderful stuff must have happened in the big room, but I spent the evening ensconced in the Kitchen, with about 500 other people, hearing great folk tunes --British and otherwise-- and contributing where I could. I didn’t recognize more than a handful of songs, and the vast majority of those I was singing, but the music was just SO good. You know, Christie and I have traveled all over America looking for these moments, and they are few and far between. So thank you, this was an incredible evening for me.

Sunday found me with no obligations, although the temptation to sleep in was overwhelming, Instead thought, hit some of the other Mountain Dulcimer workshops: Dan Evans workshop on accompaniment in Ionian, and Liz Law’s Northumbrian Tunes workshops. Both were great learning experiences, even for an old dog like myself.

Lunch, a dulcimer Q and A session with Dan, Liz and John, then tea, suddenly before we knew it, it was time to go. Now Christie and I both come from families where our fathers can never get out of church on Sunday without saying loads of goodbyes, and coming to the end of a fabulous weekend in OUR church, with loads of dear, dear friends both old and new, we didn’t want to miss anyone, we wanted to squeeze every drop of nectar from the fruit. We were one of the last to leave, and already the sun was starting its slow creep to the other side of the world. And just as well too, it gave us nothing to look back on, only ahead, only towards next year.

Butch Ross               <<<<<<More pics in the Photo Gallery>>>>>>

 

Annual Weekend Report - Last updated  29 November 2004