Cultchur, I has it - 3; dancing class

So Saturday morning, I was off away to my first Dolmetsch Historical Dance Society class with Hazel Dennison. I'd spotted this class in a leaflet flogged at the Big Dance event from the summer, and it was within walking distance of my home.

The topic was 'early Italian Renaissance' and the authors in question were dancing masters Domenico and Ebreo c.1450. We covered a dance I didn't know at all, called Lioncello, named for one of the Medici patrons; Rosti Bolli (nicknamed Roasted and Boiled, which is more polite than the Rusty Bollocks I know it as); and we filled a bit of time with Petit Riens, which many folks seemed to alread know.

The attendees were a bit like the MEDATS crowd; mostly ladies, with some gents, of a certain age, who are interested in all aspects of historic dance, and are not limited to any particular period (except that they divide up periods to concentrate on one at a time). There seemed several regulars who knew each other, and a couple of newcomers like me, and a couple of jobbing reenactors. I was amused to find that having doine practices with another group (the one that Master Paul and milady Anne practice and perform with) gave me some street cred.

I enjoyed the class; it was a chance to spend some time on getting the steps right, rather than rushing ahead to keep everyone moving. My one wish was that we could have spent more time moving; the instructor is clearly so knowledgeable, and so steeped in the the period from her research, that she wanted to cram all this information into her instruction, rather than getting us to go through it a few more times. Fortunately, some handouts outline a few of the dance terms she used about 'shading' your performance - using the upper body to express yourself more.

Hazel endeavoured, in this shading, to get the dancers to 'unlock their inner Italian noble', to stand tall and proud, confident of your role in court, and carrying yourself with dignity, and to express that nobility in your movements. But while I was willing to give this a go, almost everyone else could only do this tongue-in-cheek; middle-aged middleclass English people don't do nobility very well. It just embarrasses them to no end.

I was pleased to find that the best SCA dance research and performance is at least comperable to other high-end amateur (passionate, enthusiastic and largely unpaid) research and practice. DHDS prides itself on its research, and it certainly has a sizeable back catalogue of self-publications.

My favourite phrase from the day: 'use your dancing common sense'. This generally means: if you're about to crash into a corner, work your way out of it while continuing with the dance.

The lunchtime conversation sounded suspiciously familiar: the group is trying to resurrect regular classes, so that if new potential attendees express interest at an event, there's actually something to direct said newcomers to within a few weeks... that, and the rather frustrated speculating over who will take over when they themselves retired. Unlike SCA, though, these volunteers are often in their roles for decades, rather than 2 years at a time.

Also eerily familiar: being thrilled at finding a sympathetic and suitable site with the facilities they needed!

The class was certainly worth the money and time invested, and I will be keeping an eye open for future dates.

One downside of this day: very achy hips, knees, shinsplints, and feet all evening! This ageing thing bites, bigtime.

Cultcher, I has it - 4 - drawing class

This week I attended the first of my short run of drawing classes at Sir John Soane's museum. Soane was a contemporary of Pugin's (who designed Westminster Parliament building), and was the architect of choice at the end of 18th/start of 19th c.

From the website:

On his appointment as Professor of Architecture at the Royal Academy in 1806 Soane began to arrange the Books, casts and models in order that the students might have the benefit of easy access to them and proposed opening his house for the use of the Royal Academy students the day before and the day after each of his lectures. By 1827, when John Britton published the first description of the Museum, Soane’s collection was being referred to as an ‘Academy of Architecture’.  

In 1833 Soane negotiated an Act of Parliament to settle and preserve the house and collection for the benefit of ‘amateurs and students’ in architecture, painting and sculpture. On his death in 1837 the Act came into force, vesting the Museum in a board of Trustees who were to continue to uphold Soane’s own aims and objectives.
 

Part of the mandate of the museum is continuing education, and when we visited last week, I spotted an evening class for grownups, and on impulse signed up the next day. It's a class of 8 people, with one instructor, and a chance to spend a couple of hours a week for 5 weeks refining drawing skills and practicing on the thousands of artifacts in the museum. Soane wanted it used to inspire students, and it's certainly an inspiring collection.

I haven't done drawing in a class since junior high, and I've never been very confident of my skills. Learning calligraphy was a revelation, because I always thought I 'wasn't artistic'; so I'm really quite excited to be doing this.

About half of the class are Soane Museum regulars, who knew the instructor well enough to chat about his newest commission (a show in London for the Indian high commission); the rest were wide-eyed newbies like me. One was a staff member and the ed coordinator dropped in towards the end.

Part of the fun was adventuring into the museum after closing time; all the staff seemed very excited at having permission to explore the house in the quiet and the dark. It gave the rooms a completely different feel, they said.

Another fun bit was trekking through all the back corridors from one part of the three joined buildings to the middle unit, to reach the museum, without tripping the door alarms - weaving through the old boot room, pantry, and kitchen (with newfangled top-of-the-line 19th c iron range in the fireplace) and up the stairs to the drawing room, painted a bright 'Turner yellow' (a lead oxychloride), which was apparently cutting edge when the house was furnished.

This week's lesson was in using pencils to develop an eye for shading and tones - when you look at an object, what is the darkest tone? the lightest? the inbetween ones? what can you draw in small units of shading to create a whole? It was about 'learning to look', a catchphrase that I've heard before, but that is hard to teach if you don't 'have' it. I'm hoping to catch a glimpse of 'it' over this course.