Arthurian legends with the Cambridge Storytellers
Brilliant evening last night with the Cambridge Storytellers. As you might expect, they are a local group of story-tellers devoted to folk / oral traditions. The Storytellers meet for regular monthly nights at a local cafe, CB2s, but this was one of their more organised, formal events, held in conjunction with Cambridge Preservation Society at the (almost ridiculously) atmospheric Leper Chapel.
The Chapel is a tiny, 12th-century building; a slice of Norman cuteness that sits in a patch of green, on the edge of a very busy road - a Chapel Perilous :-) It was preserved largely due to its association with the famous Stourbridge Fair, which was Europe's largest medieval fair, lasting right up into the 18th century. Today, CPS takes care of the building, and works with local community groups to ensure it is used and appreciated. Last night's event was a fantastic use for a wonderful, very special place.
We parked bikes on the corner at Barnwell Junction, and descended the steps to the little green, on which the chapel sits. Entering, we paused to adjust our eyes to the dim interior and buy our tickets (and the obligatory glass of mead). On the coolly lime-rendered, textured walls, candles flickered, highlighting branches of summer greenery. The five storytellers, in damson and gold, sat together in a semi-circle, under the nave. In turn, with brief musical interludes (drum, zither, singing), each rose to tell a story, showing different dimensions or facets of the Arthurian legend. Each narrated his or her story in the first person, embodying the various characters. First was a young, dark-haired man who told the story of Uther, Merlin, and Igraine. This was a dark tale of power, destiny, and unrequited desire. Second was a much older, grey-haired woman who narrated Guinevere and Lancelot. This was a cooler, lighter tale of a woman's quest to bring a culture of chivalry to an armed, masculine, society - dogged by gossip and unspoken commitments. Third, a middle-aged woman told the story of Gareth and the Red Knight, bringing humour and personality to a knockabout, rollicking tale of chivalry and courage. Fourth, another older woman embodied Morgane Le Fay, bringing a distinctly feminist and pagan sensibility to the telling of a woman's quest for knowledge. Lastly, a grey-haired man told the story of Arthur's death, Bedevere's relinquishing of Excalibur, and the barge taking the King to Avalon -- a tale of renunciation, fraternal trust, and again, the theme of Fate.
The stories and the tellers were so powerful, I had little notion of time passing during the telling. It was almost as though Merlin's "glamour", which all tellers referred to, sat around the tellers as they spoke. An hour and a half later, we were released back into the night and went home to dream of white harts, stone towers, and boats trimming sail.
The Chapel is a tiny, 12th-century building; a slice of Norman cuteness that sits in a patch of green, on the edge of a very busy road - a Chapel Perilous :-) It was preserved largely due to its association with the famous Stourbridge Fair, which was Europe's largest medieval fair, lasting right up into the 18th century. Today, CPS takes care of the building, and works with local community groups to ensure it is used and appreciated. Last night's event was a fantastic use for a wonderful, very special place.
We parked bikes on the corner at Barnwell Junction, and descended the steps to the little green, on which the chapel sits. Entering, we paused to adjust our eyes to the dim interior and buy our tickets (and the obligatory glass of mead). On the coolly lime-rendered, textured walls, candles flickered, highlighting branches of summer greenery. The five storytellers, in damson and gold, sat together in a semi-circle, under the nave. In turn, with brief musical interludes (drum, zither, singing), each rose to tell a story, showing different dimensions or facets of the Arthurian legend. Each narrated his or her story in the first person, embodying the various characters. First was a young, dark-haired man who told the story of Uther, Merlin, and Igraine. This was a dark tale of power, destiny, and unrequited desire. Second was a much older, grey-haired woman who narrated Guinevere and Lancelot. This was a cooler, lighter tale of a woman's quest to bring a culture of chivalry to an armed, masculine, society - dogged by gossip and unspoken commitments. Third, a middle-aged woman told the story of Gareth and the Red Knight, bringing humour and personality to a knockabout, rollicking tale of chivalry and courage. Fourth, another older woman embodied Morgane Le Fay, bringing a distinctly feminist and pagan sensibility to the telling of a woman's quest for knowledge. Lastly, a grey-haired man told the story of Arthur's death, Bedevere's relinquishing of Excalibur, and the barge taking the King to Avalon -- a tale of renunciation, fraternal trust, and again, the theme of Fate.
The stories and the tellers were so powerful, I had little notion of time passing during the telling. It was almost as though Merlin's "glamour", which all tellers referred to, sat around the tellers as they spoke. An hour and a half later, we were released back into the night and went home to dream of white harts, stone towers, and boats trimming sail.