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Summerland |
V A L E When I first came to Australia in 1976 my wife dragged me down the the Australian Music Centre in Sydney’s Rocks district to see the Sydney Morris Men. As we walked into the venue we were confronted by a sight for sore eyes; two rosy-faced, bearded men in morris costume enjoying some air and a can of beer. One of them was six feet plus tall and around 20 stone, the other was significantly shorter and thinner. The smaller of the two turned out to be Peter Wayman, formally a dancer with the Hammersmith Men in London, and the other was John ‘Huffy’ Greer, an obsessive collecter of folk music recordings and accomplished cook. Both men were enthusiastic founder members of the Sydney Morris Men, and Peter in particular was a fine singer / musician as well as dancer, and we immediately struck up a rapport. Peter was an enthusiastic ‘heart of gold’ larrakin and for many years thereafter he supplied hospitality, songs, and laughs in abundance. The years 1976-82 were absolute heaven for Morris dancers in Australia. Sides were few and far between, there were fewer by-laws to restrict dancing and the public was always pleased to see us. The side danced everywhere, from Adelaide to Perth and back, and Peter and Huffy were always there, always up for it. The Sydney Men were also honoured to dance at the christening of Peter and (then wife) Susan’s first daughter at Ryde Church back in the early in the 70’s. Sadly, following an extended visit to the UK, where he also danced with Hammersmith, Huffy succumbed to cancer and passed away in hospital in Sydney in the late 80’s. Peter moved on, relocating to Tasmania with a new family and life, and the side lost touch with him. Three years ago the Wheeze and Suck Band and the Sydney Morris Men were holding our usual rowdy court in The Troubador Wine Tent during the National Festival in Canberra, when a chirpy figure tapped me on the shoulder and said, “You don’t recognise me do you?” It was the grey beard that threw me, however, we soon had Peter up with a side of the original old Sydney bastards at the Harcourt Hotel for a couple of dances. Pete was so pleased to have made contact with us, and we stayed in touch via the Net. It was only a few months ago that we realised that Peter, like Huffy before him, was fighting cancer. The side has been touched acutely by this awful illness over the years, and the news was especially sad. Peter finally succumbed on the 21st June. Peter will always be a Sydney Morris Man, and we all miss him more than words can really convey. Our thoughts are with his families. Ian MacIntosh V A L E Kevin Kelly died last year on the 7th of May, 2000. He was already a trained Morris dancer on the very the day that I stumbled through my first four-step. Within a few months I had become a better dancer than Kevin - most of the apprentices in my group probably were. I tried to take the path of precision and finicky detail in Morris. You know? Which foot lands on the upright-caper-during-a- half-volley-springtop-triple-slow-mox-galley? Instead, Kevin took the outrageous step of simply enjoying himself and thus achieved the impossibly sticky goal of any dancer. What he did was - yer see - was he developed a true Morris Spirit. Over the years I have heard so much bullshit spoke in the name of "Morris Spirit". Kevin had it in spades, tho he would never call it as such. In a Morris side such as Moreton Bay, which was really a double side and overloaded with strong characters, KK tended to be rather quiet. Quiet on the face of it, that is. He never got involved in Side politics, but he did get involved in beer. He was a lot less quiet at parties, and not infrequently semi-nude. He never big-noted himself, he never lied and he never paid for his own beer. This was a talent for which we were all envious. Although quiet, you never wanted to get in the way of the business end of Kevin's humour. He could get deadly in very few words. He also had the rare talent of taking the piss at his own expense, and that is a lot rarer than you would think. Kevin fought his final battle with incredible courage. He had no illusions about his illness, he didn't pretend, he didn't winge and he never gave up hope. Because of it he probably lived longer than the man upstairs intended. I hope that when its my turn I have half as much style. There were better Morris dancers in the world than Kevin Kelly. Thousands more. However there were very very few better Morris Men. And the distinction though subtle would be obvious if you had known him. Following his death, Morris Folk from many different sides around South East Queensland held a wake at the Storey Bridge Hotel. Dances were performed, beers were drunk, a good time was had by all in his memory. I was struck by the essential silliness of the Morris at that time, but also I perceived a hint of that allusive slut, the vapor-like "Morris Spirit". We got dressed up for no audience - in fact we danced at a remote park, and in the rain, thereby almost guaranteeing that we would have privacy. We danced for Kevin, and Kevin danced with us, and as usual, he skillfully avoided his shout. Kevin Kelly was buried in the costume and colours of the Moreton Bay Morris side. He dances still. Sean Arthur V A L E Today, the 3rd May would have been Trish’s
birthday. There is some irony in us knowing this, as when she was with us she would
never divulge her age or birthday! Trish was a private woman quiet, and often it
seemed to us she was in a world of her own, I don’t think any of us realized how much
we would miss her. Trish grasped life with both hands and sometimes found the
experience slippery! But she always managed to find the best in experiences and the
beautiful, intelligent and passionate Alex is a Trish was renowned for not being where you expected her to be in the set! But you always knew you could count on her to be there for the side. We miss you terribly, but we hope you’re still enjoying The Morris. “So here’s to the company Jan Farr V A L E Roy Judge, who has died aged 71, did more than anyone else to demythologise the early days of the 20th-century folk revival and the origins of May Day folk customs. In a series of carefully researched studies, he examined such subjects as the work of Cecil Sharp, morris dancing in the theatre, Merrie England and maypole dancing. He overturned preconceptions, recognised the contribution of those who had been overlooked in previous histories, and examined the provenance of ancient folk customs. Judge was born in Hastings, went to the local grammar school and read history at Oxford University between 1947 and 1950. After national service, he taught for 10 years at secondary schools in Peckham, south London, and Erith, in Kent, before becoming a lecturer in religious studies at Furzedown college of education. By the mid-1970s, such colleges were seeking to expand their range of courses and, under the guise of pursuing research into social anthropology, Roy obtained a sabbatical to study folklore at the University of Leeds folklife studies institute. His dissertation was published as The Jack-In-The-Green (1979), which set new standards of meticulous research in a discipline that has frequently attracted shoddy and fanciful scholarship (a second edition has recently been published). He then turned to Changing Attitudes To May Day: 1844- 1914, the title of his doctoral thesis. He took early retirement in 1980, and, significantly, much of his work was therefore completed purely for enjoyment rather than for career advancement. Roy's interest in folklore was first stimulated by folk dancing as an undergraduate, when he took part in the May morning celebrations in Oxford. He later published his research into the origins of the singing on Magdalen College tower and the festivities below, commenting, in particular, on the Merrie England image as illustrated by the painting of the scene by Holman Hunt. Merrie England became a recurrent theme in Roy's writing, and he used his first address as president of the Folklore Society in 1991 to illustrate its importance in the development of May Day customs. His other studies of May Day customs looked at the origins of plaited maypole dancing, May queens and the Helston furry dance. His dis coveries showed that many of the customs we regard as old are, in fact, quite modern, although often they had older, different forms. One of his papers contrasted the images of May Da Tennyson's The May Queen and Flora Thompson's Lark Rise. In 1959, Roy joined the London Pride Morris Men, and later the Ancient Men, comprising past and present members of the Oxford University morris team. Although fascinated by the south midlands, village-based morris dances of the rural working-classes that formed the basis for the 20th-century morris dance revival, Roy was also drawn to the other contexts for morris dancing in the 19th century, contexts which the folk revival preferred to ignore. These included morris dancing as part of the Merrie England movement, morris dancing on the stage and the pageants of showmen such as the pageant master, D'Arcy Ferris. I n his studies of the early days of the folk-music revival, Roy examined the controversies that surrounded Cecil Sharp's work on folk dance, a topic that led him to a major re-assessment of the work of Mary Neal, an early colleague, and later critic, of Sharp. Always even-handed, Roy's study allowed both parties to emerge from the events with credit. The study of the morris dances from Lichfield, Staffordshire, required even more sensitivity. There was no notation for these dances until they were sent (anonymously) in the 1950s to key folk dance enthusiasts, who performed them as genuine. It was often suspected that one of the enthusiasts had invented the dances, and passed them off as traditional - and Roy's research indicated this to be the case. Although hesitant and cautious in conversation, he was a powerful speaker in public, with a dramatic presence and a strong sense of humour. He was always conscious of his readership, a mixture of academics and practitioners of folk music and dance, and he managed to present his arguments with academic rigour in an accessible style. In addition to his presidency of the Folklore Society (1990-93), Roy also served as vice-president, and was awarded the society's Coote Lake research medal. He was an assistant editor of the English Folk Dance and Song Society's folk music journal, and a strong supporter of that society's Vaughan Williams memorial library, where much of his research took place. Everyone who came in contact with Roy was touched by his generosity, humanity and ability to see good in everybody and everything. He was always willing to help younger researchers and was an inspiration to many. He is survived by his wife Betty, daughter Elisabeth, and sons Peter and Derek. • Roy Edmund Judge, folklorist, born July 24 1929; died November 17 2000 Derek Schofield |
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