The Holly and the Ivy
It's a moment I remember from my first time seeing the Boar's Head Festival, about a decade ago: the end of the ribbon dance, when in sync with the closing note of a wordless phrase the choir sings in The Holly and the Ivy, the maypole is pulled down and the ribbons flutter for a moment in mid-air, before being pulled back to the various corners of the sanctuary.
The three previous years I performed the role of beefeater in the Boar's Head Festival at Trinity, I had been the one who received the ribbons from the dancers and placed them on the maypole. This year, I was the beefeater holding the maypole. It's a position of some responsibility, because in years past, not all the ribbons have come off the pole when it was first pulled down. In the five shows we did this year, I pulled the pole down clean, releasing all ten ribbons, every time. I had been nervous before the weekend, because the guy who did the maypole last year had a perfect record and I felt I had big shoes to fill.
In the procession that makes up the festival, the ribbon dance is the fourth and final time that we beefeaters enter and process. First, we march in after the bagpipers. Second, we carry in the boar's head itself. Third, we enter with the royals. After Lord Asbury knights the crusader with the sword, we hustle back down the side aisles to the entrance to the sanctuary. The other four beefeaters pick up spools of ribbon. The front two beefs then fast step to the front of the church with their ribbons while we two middle beefs, with me carrying the maypole, take position halfway up the aisle, in the middle of the sanctuary.
The music for the ribbon dance is The Holly and the Ivy, which is a pretty, ethereal piece. The festival contains a whole panoply of winter and Christmas traditions, from the high Christian stories to the pagan celebrations. The Holly and the Ivy is a good example of that. Holly and ivy are old pagan fertility symbols, their winter fruit showing fecundity even in the cold of January. The song takes that seasonal imagery and uses it as a vehicle to instruct of the nature of the nativity.
The ribbon dancers dance up and down the aisles. There are four of them, and with each of the four choruses after the first, two bring ribbons (one from the back and one from the front) to the center, where they get put on the maypole. Two additional ribbons come from the side stages. So as the song builds, the maypole becomes the hub of these ribbons, suspended over the crowd. Five of the ribbons are red and five are green. The dancers wear red and green dresses with laced-up corsets, with white sleeves. (In some years, there have also been two male dancers, making six, but not this year.)
After all the ribbons are on the maypole and the chorus sings the refrain, the maypole is pulled down sharply, and the ribbons are left momentarily suspended, before fluttering down and being pulled back to the corners of the sanctuary where they started. It's a breathtaking effect and I think one of the highlights of the show.
As the beefeater holding the maypole, I don't really see it, because I'm focused on my job. I hold the maypole as high as I can, then yank it down sharply at the proper note, feeling relief when I see that all the ribbons are off. The ribbon dancers strike a pose on the front steps of the sanctuary, while we wait for the music to end and then march off.
The three previous years I performed the role of beefeater in the Boar's Head Festival at Trinity, I had been the one who received the ribbons from the dancers and placed them on the maypole. This year, I was the beefeater holding the maypole. It's a position of some responsibility, because in years past, not all the ribbons have come off the pole when it was first pulled down. In the five shows we did this year, I pulled the pole down clean, releasing all ten ribbons, every time. I had been nervous before the weekend, because the guy who did the maypole last year had a perfect record and I felt I had big shoes to fill.
In the procession that makes up the festival, the ribbon dance is the fourth and final time that we beefeaters enter and process. First, we march in after the bagpipers. Second, we carry in the boar's head itself. Third, we enter with the royals. After Lord Asbury knights the crusader with the sword, we hustle back down the side aisles to the entrance to the sanctuary. The other four beefeaters pick up spools of ribbon. The front two beefs then fast step to the front of the church with their ribbons while we two middle beefs, with me carrying the maypole, take position halfway up the aisle, in the middle of the sanctuary.
The music for the ribbon dance is The Holly and the Ivy, which is a pretty, ethereal piece. The festival contains a whole panoply of winter and Christmas traditions, from the high Christian stories to the pagan celebrations. The Holly and the Ivy is a good example of that. Holly and ivy are old pagan fertility symbols, their winter fruit showing fecundity even in the cold of January. The song takes that seasonal imagery and uses it as a vehicle to instruct of the nature of the nativity.
The ribbon dancers dance up and down the aisles. There are four of them, and with each of the four choruses after the first, two bring ribbons (one from the back and one from the front) to the center, where they get put on the maypole. Two additional ribbons come from the side stages. So as the song builds, the maypole becomes the hub of these ribbons, suspended over the crowd. Five of the ribbons are red and five are green. The dancers wear red and green dresses with laced-up corsets, with white sleeves. (In some years, there have also been two male dancers, making six, but not this year.)
After all the ribbons are on the maypole and the chorus sings the refrain, the maypole is pulled down sharply, and the ribbons are left momentarily suspended, before fluttering down and being pulled back to the corners of the sanctuary where they started. It's a breathtaking effect and I think one of the highlights of the show.
As the beefeater holding the maypole, I don't really see it, because I'm focused on my job. I hold the maypole as high as I can, then yank it down sharply at the proper note, feeling relief when I see that all the ribbons are off. The ribbon dancers strike a pose on the front steps of the sanctuary, while we wait for the music to end and then march off.