Report of the Weekend
Festival of Village Carols, Grenoside 2002
It's November 29th
and your correspondent slowly slithers up the M1 to scenic South Yorks
once more for Village Carols' biennial Grenoside Grand Sing, heading
straight for the Top Red Lion, where Friday night attracts a capacity
crowd, solidly packed from the tables at the top past the bar to the front
doors, and from the snug to the loos.
Large men are wedged irrevocably upright.
Husbands and wives are separated, never to meet again till Saturday
breakfast. Awake Arise, Joy
to the World, Jacob's Well, Pentonville, Mount Zion and many, many more
fill the air while symphonies and assorted twiddly bits arise form the
haven of calm occupied by Ray "Amadeus" Ellison and his string
quartet - not your average pub band!
An
awkward moment occurs during either Hark; Hark, Hark, Hark, or possibly
Hark Hark What News, when a firm Yorkshire voice is heard to exclaim
"Bloody incomers - wrong 'Ark!"
Meanwhile it is a lovely mild starry night outside where the
Grenoside Longsword team are donning their clogs and polishing their
swords, and Dr Doc Rowe, camcorder in hand, is ready to record any
minuscule changes in the figures of the dance and the angle at which the
leader wears his Davy Crockett hat. Back in the bar the mummers of Winster are limbering up for
their Horse play. They play
it twice, to give us a chance to grasp its subtle, positively
Strindbergian nuances.
The
Saturday workshop sessions mark a return to the Grenoside Community Centre
after the Cutlers' Hall interlude of 2000.
It is as if we have never been away.
Ian Russell is still the same ball of energy at the ungodly hour of
half past nine. One blast of
the primary head teacher's shush - a skill based on years of practice -
and we are all ready to go. The
committee has ensured that everything runs smoothly, including the
catering, and the bar ministers beautifully to hundreds of thirsts
throughout the day.
In
the evening, at the Grand Sing itself, there are three groups of
carollers: Coal Aston from south of Sheffield, one of the original groups
in 1994; Worrall from near Grenoside; and the men of Glen Rock,
Pennsylvania, the first international group at a Grenoside Festival.
From the moment they suddenly launch into their version of
Christians Awake in the Top Red Lion on Friday, you know they are a bit
special. Started in 1848 to "Go the Rounds" of their snowy
Pennsylvania town and bring the joys of English Christmas carolling to the
German-speaking majority there, every year since they have sung out in the
town square, building up to a baker’s dozen from four
"original" carols which have their roots in these parts, and the
guys from Glen Rock are exhilarated to discover that what they believed to
be a lonely torch they were bearing through the Pennsylvania snows still
burns brightly in this corner of Yorkshire.
Membership passes from father to son; one venerable Caroler
introduces his son and grandson; twelve year old great grandson is still
on the waiting list.
As the evening
wears on I identify the hunched, overcoated figure immediately in front of
me as the Home Secretary. A
generous libation of local ale probably ups my decibel level, which is no
doubt why the Rt. Hon. Gentleman seems to elude his sturdy lady escorts
and make his escape shortly before the 2002 Grand Sing ends joyously,
rousingly, with Pentonville, Merry Christmas and - perhaps best of all -
the promise of rousing lunchtime sessions next day.
But once again, a
thousand thanks and several rousing cheers to Ian and his remarkable
committee for another glorious Saturday night. Roll on 2004 . . .
and lets hope there is still a world to sing in.
Mike Spittal