From http://mudcat.org: music: Salwey Weekend again

this is a thread from Mudcat like wot i started...

Sally's Winter Warmer
Current mood:  exhausted
Category: Music ..

Welcome from Bishops Cleeve in sunny Gloucestershire. Janet and I are at her brother's house having travelled here from a Winter Warmer Festival some sixty miles away. The event had been organised by Myspace friend, Sally Stamford,

It's been an interesting and fulfilling weekend. We arrived at the Salwey Inn in Woofferton, south of Ludlow, during Saturday afternoon after having undertaken a five hour journey which included fifty minutes of traffic jam near Shrewsbury. We had originally planned to arrive somewhat earlier in the day but a message from Sally suggested arriving later as the planned Saturday session might not commence till around six o'clock. It was, however, in full flow when we walked in at three. Oh, well. Too late for us, being hungry and travel weary, to join in. I introduced myself to Sally whilst Janet checked in. Then it was off for somewhere to eat, relax, come back, shower and join the evening session. The Salwey's an imposing redbrick building set at a crossroads amidst some of England's finest rurality with a small village nearby hosting a parish notice board advertising, alongside evensong times, aromatherapy classes and ironing services, stick insects for sale as low maintenance pets for ten pence each.

There were about twenty singers of whom three or four had instruments – a couple of guitars, a mandolin, maracas, tambourine and a melodian. I had Ellie, my stage Takamini guitar and Brendan the bouzouki of whom much interest was displayed.

The atmosphere in the room was low key. The singing, harmonious but even lower keyed. Bonds had been established within the group and it was very difficult for me to feel part of the crowd. If I hadn't interrupted proceedings to say hello and introduce ourselves I doubt whether anybody, friendly though they were, would have asked who we were or where we were from. I enquired about the format for the weekend to be told by three or four voices in unison that there wasn't one as such and that it was simply a matter of “jumping in”. Not quite what I was used to, expected nor preferred. And there was, for me at least, some slightly uncomfortable silences after each song had been sung as quiet politeness pervaded before someone began another. I soon got the hang of it, though, and began the habit of picking up my guitar half way through someone's piece as a sign that I'd go next. It worked. The singing in the room was great, with many wonderful harmonies but attempts to lift the mood proved fruitless as every song I sang was answered by more walking out on May mornings, trapped and injured miners and bold sea captains in acapello. Not that there's anything wrong with these songs, mind. I love them all. Indeed, they should be sung them at every opportunity and continue to be handed down through the generations. These songs contain much of our country's history, love, rejection and derring-do and we'd be a poorer nation if we lost them to the mists of time. My point is that there needs to be more of balanced mix of the traditional and contemporary if folk music is ever going to truly capture the hearts and minds of the Radio 1 brigade.

Anyway, I digress.....around mid evening a family in the next door dining room , having listened from the doorway to my singing Black Velvet Band, accompanied by superb whistle and fiddle players, passed on a message via Janet, asking me to take my guitar and songs in to them. It was too good an opportunity to miss. I asked the two anonymous whistle and fiddle players to come with me and we struck up again amongst the food and drink filled tables in the adjacent room. One or two others then followed us in and a mighty singsong took place. I remained in the dining room for the remainder of the evening and received an invitation to play at a dinner somewhere nearby the following day. As flattering as the invitation was, I had to decline due to pre-arranged plans to come here to Bishops Cleeve.

So, well done Sally. I look forward to receiving a sample of Ron's pictures in due course.

Best wishes

Phil

Friday started with me rushing around with £50 to spend on raffle prizes.  That was fun, even better than Christmas shopping, obviously, I didn’t know any of the prize winners so I just bought things that I would either find useful or would like to receive myself.  My Mum donated a tin of Quality Street; I bought de-icer, some very nice wines, Black Magic, a chamois sponge for the windscreen and a torch (no cuddly toy!) Then I drove out to the awfully ‘nace’ Food Hall at Bromfield (nr Ludlow) to spend £30 on something tasteful such as some expensive jams and marmalades, bottled real ale with a glass in a presentation case and another presentation case of oils and mustards.  All in all these prizes were something to behold.  I also bought £5’s of Lottery Scratch Cards which we put into an envelope marked, ‘Surprise’!

I whizzed back to the Salwey Arms and my first performer had arrived.  Graham had towed his caravan from Stourbridge and had the kettle on.  After a quick conversation I went down to The Roebuck in Brimfield to check out the breakfast and coffee facilities for my visitors. This was because the Salwey doesn’t open till mid-day at the weekend and not everyone likes Little Chef fry ups!  The Roebuck is very nice and run by a French couple.  They are very willing to get involved with the musical weekend so I must think of a way for them to contribute for the next extravaganza.  There’s a village hall next to them which could house a workshop of some sort; Irish Set maybe, or some French circle dancing?  That would be fun; we could have a themed event including the French cooking next door.  Stripy ‘T’ shirts and onion strings!

People started to arrive; more caravans, camper vans, and a Winnebago!  I went home, got changed and Wolfy and I returned, meeting my son and two girl friends.

Roger Champkin arrived with his band ‘Cut the Mustard’.  They set up in the function room and we all hung around waiting for the dancers to arrive.  In they poured, Wolfy on the door, and the evening took on its own life.  Steve Freedman entertained with a couple of songs in the first break; then he and I sang our old songs together in the next break.  We haven’t sung together for 2 years and I forgot the harmony at one stage, but hey, this is folk man!

 The band was really great and most people danced all of the time.  We had some dancers who hadn’t ever been to a ceilidh before; watching them was fun, seeing them get better and better at remembering what to do.  I was having so much fun I almost forgot to sell the raffle tickets!  We rushed around doing this, danced a bit more, and then had the draw. The last prise to be chosen from the table was the ‘Surprise’ envelope.  I’m pleased to say that an old Irish gentleman, who comes to the session at the Salwey, won a prize.  He was so pleased with himself he spilled his drink on the dance floor.  I got a cloth to mop up the Guinness from the floor (Booze booze the fireman cried, as they came knocking at the door.... great song that! Ahem, sorry, I digress), turned my back for a moment and low and behold someone danced over the wet patch and fell over!!!  Luckily he was ok, and the evening danced on.   My son and his ladies, what did they do all night?  Sat at the back of the room watching films on his laptop!  I tried to get them to join in but ‘it’s not cool’ is it!  Actually I know lots of kids who enjoy dancing and have a good laugh, and Joe has been dancing at the Late Night Extra at Sidmouth Fest, but  it wouldn’t have looked good with his two lady friends this evening, I fear.  Huh kids, eh? The song and music session was well under way in the bar, and when the dance was over and all the ‘thank you’ speeches had been done we all decanted to the merriment in the bar.  Wolfy and I left at about 12.30 but I believe the singing etc went on till 01.30!

Saturday started with breakfast at The Roebuck; Dave and Annie Reeder joined us but no one else was awake.  At 12.00, midday the whole musical event started again. At one point we even had a little Morris dance! (My first I hasten to add.) We had a visit from Liverpool Ken who gave us two extremely funny poems.

In the evening Wolfy and bailed my daughter out of a problem with her car running out of petrol on a roundabout in Ludlow and bought some batteries for my mate Ron Jackson’s camera, who was photographer for the weekend.  Wolfy and I had an evening meal in the Little Chef (just across the road from The Salwey) which wasn’t half bad, actually.....

When we got back to the pub, it was heaving with people, shoulder to shoulder.  The singers were in full swing, the instrumentals burst into flames now and then, and everyone was really having a wonderful time.  The diners were in one part of the pub and the folkies in another, but were asked to join them because they couldn’t quite hear what was going on.  Phil Graham gave them a rendition and at one stage his little daughter came in to sing a line or two.  Hopefully we have some photo's of that.  Some singers moved; some didn’t, and at one point we ended up with two sessions happening at the same time.  Eventually all were joined together and wonderful chorus songs were filling the pub and music bounced off the walls and raised the rafters.  It was very exciting with a lot of laughter and broad smiles around the pub.  At about 10.30 it was announced that Mike, the landlord, had pulled the last pint of Hobson’s Bitter and the barrel was empty.  I had warned him when I planned the event that this might happen, but he hadn’t experienced a pub full of folkies before.  We’ll know for next time.  The evening came to an end at 1.30am.

Sunday was a quiet start.  I trailed around the countryside returning my son to his Dad, with whom he lives. (He’d stayed at home all of Saturday doing what 15yr olds do with tv and pc’s.  He had made his bed, fed himself and the cats, washed up and kept the home fires burning, so he’s not all bad!)  We returned to The Salwey to find the singers were again in full (hoarse) voice.    Steve Freedman, Derek and Mary, Graham Collins, Emma and the Professor; these are some voices I remember from this sedate Sunday Singaround, (Ranzo, Benbow, Drop of Nelson's Blood oh...) but by this time it’s all becoming a bit of a blur, I’m afraid.  I do remember Mike behind the bar having a happy grin most of the time though.

We all bid farewell at 3.30pm and hit the road.  All was quiet.

When’s the next time we descend upon The Salwey Arms Hotel?  Provisionally booked is 15^th – 17^th May.