Welcome to the
The Purton Stoke Folk Dancing Festival
Fresh from their triumph at the Chippenham Folk Festival, two weeks previously, the dancers arrived in Purton Stoke on Wednesday 5th June to enjoy themselves and to entertain and educate their knowledgeable and/or curious audience.
The evening was one to savour, tuck away and bring back to mind in the damp dark days of winter. The sun was shining out of a deep blue sky, and, as we waited for the dancers to put on their brightly coloured costumes ready to perform, a hot air balloon appeared from Purton and travelled silently and majestically overhead towards Cricklade.
There were six dance groups this year. A few years ago the Swindon Morris Men, had started this event by demonstrating the traditional local custom to a few regulars and friends in the street outside the Bell Inn. They had discovered that the audience were truly appreciative and each year the audience and the number of groups increases. There were over two hundred people watching this year. Regulars arrived with comfortable seats and flasks of cool drinks. At least half the children in the village had been wheeled and walked to watch. It was a genuine delight to see them listening intently to the music and trying to copy the dancing.
There were three ladies groups, and, as might be expected their costumes were rather special. In particular the Liddington Hall Ladies Morris caught the eye in their blue aprons over white cotton lace skirts and scarlet hose. I must admit I also noticed their white lacy pantaloons fastened just below the knee. Their title confused me for a while until they explained they were named after the magnificent imagined country house on Liddington Hill that should be visible as you approach Swindon on the M4 .
The Kintbury Ladies had also taken great care with their elaborate costumes, with green as their chosen colour. At times during the evening we were treated to the splendid sight and sound of four synchronised melodeon players sitting and standing in a row providing the music. The Appalachian Clog Dancers performed, and, being from Swindon these ladies had called themselves, appropriately, " Off The Rails ". They were wearing black floral skirts and waistcoats and hard shoes. I was tempted to describe their footwear as tap shoes, but was politely told that they were, like the dance, a fusion of Breton, English and American. The driving rhythm and clicking sound of the shoes on the tarmac was almost hypnotic in its effect.
The " Plain Brown Wrappers " provided us with a cool exhibition of control, this time in a type of a sword dance. The five men formed a circle and instead of holding hands they each held one end of a long double handed blade. These " wrappers " apparently originate from the North East and I was told that they were used in the mines to wipe the sweat off the pit ponies. Their costumes were in keeping with that collier theme- white shirts and breeches. After their leader had sung a brief introductory song, they then proceeded to weave, duck, dance and jump whilst holding the handles fast, the blades flexing dangerously close to their bodies at times. During this demonstration of precision dancing, at interludes one member held aloft all the wrappers, in triumph, to deserved applause. They were locked together as a woven star.
Wiltshire dancing wouldn't be complete without the imposing figures of the Moonraker Morris of course. As you might expect they wore traditional smocks, and these were complemented by their corduroy trousers and top hats. Earlier the Swindon Morris Men, in their red tunics with the dancing pig, had taken particular delight in aggressively banging their sticks together as they passed each other, as if they were performing a tribal war dance, but the Moonrakers merely flicked their handkerchiefs foppishly during their manoeuvres.
Many car travellers stopped to watch the display, and at one stage master John Thomas from Manor Farm drove up Stoke Street and thought about driving his tractor through. However, using his discretion, he quickly decided to take the long way round through Bentham. Meanwhile we had the picturesque view of four of his cows staring out of the field gate at the top of the road viewing the scene with apparent curiosity.
Whilst all this activity was going on, the characteristic smell of a barbecue wafted over the crowd. As well as the normal fare, Bentham's Music for Living, in the guise of Masterchef Mark Johnson, had even included stir-fry vegetables in a pitta on their menu. As the evening drew to a close, Lilian and Jerry from the Bell were finally able to relax and watch the last few dances. Quenching the watchers' and Morris Men's thirst had been a full time job.
Jim Caslaw
There were six dance groups this year. A few years ago the Swindon Morris Men, had started this event by demonstrating the traditional local custom to a few regulars and friends in the street outside the Bell Inn. They had discovered that the audience were truly appreciative and each year the audience and the number of groups increases. There were over two hundred people watching this year. Regulars arrived with comfortable seats and flasks of cool drinks. At least half the children in the village had been wheeled and walked to watch. It was a genuine delight to see them listening intently to the music and trying to copy the dancing.
There were three ladies groups, and, as might be expected their costumes were rather special. In particular the Liddington Hall Ladies Morris caught the eye in their blue aprons over white cotton lace skirts and scarlet hose. I must admit I also noticed their white lacy pantaloons fastened just below the knee. Their title confused me for a while until they explained they were named after the magnificent imagined country house on Liddington Hill that should be visible as you approach Swindon on the M4 .
The Kintbury Ladies had also taken great care with their elaborate costumes, with green as their chosen colour. At times during the evening we were treated to the splendid sight and sound of four synchronised melodeon players sitting and standing in a row providing the music. The Appalachian Clog Dancers performed, and, being from Swindon these ladies had called themselves, appropriately, " Off The Rails ". They were wearing black floral skirts and waistcoats and hard shoes. I was tempted to describe their footwear as tap shoes, but was politely told that they were, like the dance, a fusion of Breton, English and American. The driving rhythm and clicking sound of the shoes on the tarmac was almost hypnotic in its effect.
The " Plain Brown Wrappers " provided us with a cool exhibition of control, this time in a type of a sword dance. The five men formed a circle and instead of holding hands they each held one end of a long double handed blade. These " wrappers " apparently originate from the North East and I was told that they were used in the mines to wipe the sweat off the pit ponies. Their costumes were in keeping with that collier theme- white shirts and breeches. After their leader had sung a brief introductory song, they then proceeded to weave, duck, dance and jump whilst holding the handles fast, the blades flexing dangerously close to their bodies at times. During this demonstration of precision dancing, at interludes one member held aloft all the wrappers, in triumph, to deserved applause. They were locked together as a woven star.
Wiltshire dancing wouldn't be complete without the imposing figures of the Moonraker Morris of course. As you might expect they wore traditional smocks, and these were complemented by their corduroy trousers and top hats. Earlier the Swindon Morris Men, in their red tunics with the dancing pig, had taken particular delight in aggressively banging their sticks together as they passed each other, as if they were performing a tribal war dance, but the Moonrakers merely flicked their handkerchiefs foppishly during their manoeuvres.
Many car travellers stopped to watch the display, and at one stage master John Thomas from Manor Farm drove up Stoke Street and thought about driving his tractor through. However, using his discretion, he quickly decided to take the long way round through Bentham. Meanwhile we had the picturesque view of four of his cows staring out of the field gate at the top of the road viewing the scene with apparent curiosity.
Whilst all this activity was going on, the characteristic smell of a barbecue wafted over the crowd. As well as the normal fare, Bentham's Music for Living, in the guise of Masterchef Mark Johnson, had even included stir-fry vegetables in a pitta on their menu. As the evening drew to a close, Lilian and Jerry from the Bell were finally able to relax and watch the last few dances. Quenching the watchers' and Morris Men's thirst had been a full time job.
Jim Caslaw