Steven (unzeugmatic) wrote,

One Sang Bonnie Bonnie Biscay-o

There's something oddly evanescent about a Morris gig, which is in some ways the point. We appear in a public place, unheralded, then we dance for a while, and then we are gone. For the most part in the US nobody is quite sure who we are and what we are doing.

When I think about it, I realize that hundreds of these unsubstantiations occur around several countries all the time.

Maybe writing about a danceout will add some weight. Maybe this is good, maybe not.

On Tuesday evening Great Northern Border danced in front of the State Theater in downtown Minneapolis before a performance of Stomp. It was cold and wet and rainy, although fortunately the bitter wind had died down a couple of hours earlier. We clashed our sticks and played our instruments right there on Hennepin Avenue, as cars drove by on one side and pedestrians walked around us on the other side and the crowd gathering for the show watched us from inside the glass-fronted lobby. One man gave us a dollar, telling us to buy new clothes. (Border kit is all-black with a rag vest.)

I did have my standard moment of wonder as I pounded on my bass drum for one particular dance, looking out over Hennipin Avenue, feeling as if I were contributing to the life and heart of my city. This is a fine thing to be doing with my time, with a group of friends.

Afterward some of us went to Glueks, an old Minneapolis Germanic beer hall. We drank their special brew and talked about hiking and furniture and the Scotch-tasting we are planning for the post-gig party on Halloween.

All in all, this was the right way to spend a cold autumn evening.
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