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Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous 2011 & memories from the gutter
Musicoligists disagree on what was the first musical device. They generally agree that the first musical instrument was the voice. So it’s a simple leap to believe our ancient ancestors figured out whistling, and from there, the flute. The whistle imitated birds, the flute imitated the whistle and thus, music was born.
But it’s always been my theory, without any scientific evidence mind you, that the first musical device was the drum. Consider this …
Our paleolithic ancestors are sitting around the fire, and one of them discovers that he or she can make a sound with their mouth, which will later come to be called melodic. And now this is way before anyone figures out whistling, keep in mind. So they’re humming away, and before long, another ancestor, most certainly a guy, starts making rhythmic noises with his mouth. Kind of like a prehistoric beat box. Which in turn leads another (again a male of the species) to begin drumming rhythmically on his legs. And we all know how irritating that is, unless the primitives in question had some form of libation, in which all of them would soon be beating on their legs. Next thing you know someone picks up a couple of sticks and musical instruments are born.
What does all this have to do with the 2011 Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous, in Vincennes, IN?
Like most historical reenactments, the participants fall into two camps. The first is those demanding authenticity, most notably in dress. And in this The Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous does pretty darned well, at least among the reenactors. The merchants are a different story, but that’s neither here nor there.
The other camp doesn’t really give a fig for authenticity, as long as it looks right. Or in the case of music, sounds like what people expect period music to sound like. And reenactments aren’t the only victim of this. No less notable a personage than Ken Burns, with his award-winning PBS specials blows it when it comes to musical authenticity.
So at the Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous, let’s face it, the music isn’t authentic (discounting Common Stock, a wonderful pair who I have to believe are as authentic as you’re likely to find). Ironically enough, the guitar might not have been entirely unknown in colonial Vincennes, as the French quite possibly brought it when Vincennes was still trading in furs. But the whole ensemble playing would likely never have happened. And perhaps most inconceivable to many people, the bodhran, or Irish frame drum would never have been played in an ensemble setting. We all would love to believe that the instrument has been accompanying early music for centuries, but it likely dates from no earlier than the 1960s.
Now cast your mind back in time to the Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous, 2001 or therabouts. Your author is playing non-traditional music for non-traditional dancers at the event. It’s hot, and thirsty work. The day’s activities end, and we wander around the encampment and along the river, which is when the site feels most like the 18th century. Darkness falls, and libations are produced. Many libations. At the far end of the encampment, a large fire is drifting sparks up into the sky, in contrast with most of the smaller fires of the reenactors, and we wander to it, where a well-known and unnamed musical act is camping. There are kids being kids, adults being adults, and a ring of people around the fire, which we join. More libations are produced, including a fiery elixer with golden flakes suspended therein, Goldschlager. This bottle and several others are passed around the circle, along with a guitar and songs, and pretty soon, the twentieth century is long gone. I have to believe, based on as much as I can remember, that this was the most authentic experience I’ve had at any reenactment or historic site. Bar none.
I also seem to remember that I slept much of the night in a ditch, which felt pretty authentic as well. A gutter might have been more appropriate but we make do.
‘Twas an evening in October, I’ll confess I wasn’t sober,
I was carting home a load with manly pride,
When my feet began to stutter and I fell into the gutter,
And a pig came up and lay down by my side.
Then I lay there in the gutter and my heart was all a-flutter,
Till a lady, passing by, did chance to say:
“You can tell a man that boozes by the company he chooses,”
Then the pig got up and slowly walked away.”
Clark Van Ness
Of course that was long ago, and certainly not a sanctioned Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous activity. And I’m certain that such a Bacchanalia would no longer be tolerated. The event is wonderful enough without it.
The 2011 Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous was held this past Memorial Day weekend, and I managed to spend most of an afternoon there, before being called back on the road. It’s nice to see a historical reenactment that is so consistently great, especially considering that it’s organized almost entirely with volunteers. So perhaps the music isn’t authentic, it’s still enjoyable. And I still choose to believe that after dark, around some campfire, authenticity still reigns.
Learn more:
Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous main page
2010 Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous images in the History Trekker Shoppe
2011 Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous images in the History Trekker Shoppe
Historical Reenactments: The Fishers Renaissance Faire, Fishers Indianapolis – authentically fun
To view more photos or order prints from Fishers Renaissance Faire, click here
Renaissance fairs and medieval festivals are the red-headed step children of historical re-enactments. The reason is painfully obvious in the United States – there basically was no renaissance or medieval era over here. Compounding the fact that for example, the Civil War lasted about four years and the American revolution around eight, the Renaissance lasted about three hundred years, the medieval era a whopping one thousand years.
Historical reenactments pride themselves on authenticity, but how do you manage to create a cohesive event, accurate in detail for a period of time that spans a millennium?
The short answer seems to be, you don’t. Most Renaissance fairs and medieval festival I’ve attended are short on realism and long on fun. Which perhaps in this country at least, is how it should be.
The History Trekker attended the Fishers Renaissance Faire near Indianapolis, Indiana this past October, held on the sprawling grounds of Conner Praire. So sprawling in fact, that golf carts and trolleys were on hand to haul people from the main parking area to the actual site of the event. Once deposited at the gates, you pass through and go not back in time, but rather come face to face with it, in a setting that never quite leaves the tackiness of the twenty-first century.
The authentic tries to push its head through the din – but for every group playing or singing historically accurate music from the period, there are a couple other groups playing music of the celtic variety, which in some cases will date all the way back to the 19th century, but usually contents itself with material which became popular post 1960. For every authentic medieval sword, there are a dozen fantasy swords, often with dragons wrapping themselves around the hilt and blade.
But hey! It’s fun. You can’t go wrong with a Punch and Judy show, a joust, Queen Elizabeth working her way through the crowd with her retinue. Day-to-day period demonstrations abound – things domestic in nature tend to dominate with a blacksmith thrown in for good measure. But let’s be honest, people cooked every day, but seldom engaged in sword play or pitched battles. It’s hard to begrudge a juggler who tosses in distinctly modern jokes when portraying a medieval entertainer when you’re laughing and when the kids love it.
But isn’t it time that we accepted one little piece of reality? Jack Sparrow is a movie character based on a ride from a twentieth century theme park. The movies were certainly interesting, but is it necessary for adults to dress in Jack’s costume and do really bad imitations?
I think not.
Still, it was all good fun and good entertainment, Captain Jack aside. And the little person I took along with me, as well as myself had a good time. Which was not only good enough for us, but good enough to ensure that we make the trip again next year.
If you go: Fishers Renaissance Faire is located on the grounds of Conners Prairie, located in Fishers, Ind., just six miles north of Indianapolis on Allisonville Road (exit 5 from Interstate 69 or exit 35 from Interstate 465). Welcome Center parking is free.
Learn more:
Posted in Mid Atlantic
Also tagged historical reenactments, Indianapolis Remaissance Faire, Renaissance Fair, Renaissance Faire
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Living history in America’s most historic attraction: Plimoth Plantation brings the seventeenth century to life
To view larger or order prints from Plimoth Plantation, Plymouth, Massachusetts, click here
Of the living history sites I’ve visited, none capture the imagination like Plimoth Plantation. Plimoth Plantation feels real, for aside from the visitors, there are no traces of modern life. There are no signs, no artifacts behind glass cases, no areas roped off. This is truly living history, as the interpreters never leave character, and are busy going about the day to day tasks which would have occupied the time of the earliest settlers of the colony.
Plymouth has undergone many spellings throughout the years, and one of the earliest was Plimoth, hence the peculiar spelling. The idea for the museum was the brainchild of Henry Hornblower II, who began the project in 1947, on the shore of Plymouth Bay where the Mayflower II is now docked, and a part of the exhibit. Since there are no structures dating to the time of the pilgrims, Hornblower settled on the idea of recreating the village a couple miles up the road, on terrain which approximates that of the original site.
Now known as the 1627 English Village, it is the living heart of the complex. You can watch the inhabitants build and repair their homes using techniques from the period, as well as cooking, caring for their livestock, working the crops and relaxing, just as their counterparts would have nearly four hundred years ago. The re-enactors are friendly and approachable, always asking where you hail from, and acting appropriately confused when you reply with a place name which would have been unfamiliar in their day.
Noticing a young couple holding hands, one of the interpreters simply shook his head, and explained how lucky they were not to live here. Such public displays of affection were frowned upon by the governor, he explained, and would likely have resulted in a “striping,” or public lashing. Not to mention the public humiliation.
Another told of his theory on beer, and why one shouldn’t drink water. “You can’t eat earth”, he reasoned. “Instead you plant seeds in the earth, and from the earth springs food”. “Fire will kill you,” he went on, “but you can cook crops which are inedible, and it makes them edible.” He then further explained, “so it is with water. Often it’s not fit to drink, but you add the crops from the earth, and heat it with fire, and from that you get beer, which is wonderful to drink.”
Others will tell of the difficulty of life here, and the losses that the colonists went through in the early years. Many have lost husbands, wives and children. Some left loved ones back in Europe. Some are awaiting the arrival of spouses and children whom you know will never arrive. In short, those interpreting the history are more than tour guides, and more than actors. They bring the history of the plantation, and most importantly, the lives of the people to life. The sights, the sounds and the smell of the place is that of the seventeenth century, and it is rare is it that you can find that here in the twenty-first century.
The layout of the village itself is based on the historical data collected from the archeology and writings of the original settlers. Leydon Street is a dirt track leading up the hill to the fort, which gives a panoramic view of the village below and Massachusetts Bay beyond.
One phrase I heard time and again at Plimoth Plantation. When someone is asked what they did before they came here, it always ends with variations of the same statement. But I’m a farmer now. We’re all farmers here. Which was true. There was no time nor need for finer skills. At Plimoth it was all about survival, which meant getting the crops in the ground, seeing to the harvest, caring for the livestock, and keeping a roof over their heads. There was no need for printers, decorative artisans, merchants. It was all about the day-to-day survival in a harsh and unforgiving wilderness. Sewing was more utilitarian that art, and seemingly was one chore that never ended. The interpreters take part in all these tasks, including caring for the livestock, in a way which brings visitors, particularly young ones into the process. It’s not unusual to see school age children pressed into service to haul wood, hoe or help drive a cow to its pen.
The settlement of Plimoth Plantation would never have survived those first years without the help of the native Americans. The Wamanoag Homesite allows you to see what life is like in a traditional Wampanoah home, watch traditional native Amercan cooking techniques, and learn how a canoe was dug out of a tree. Unlike the English Village, the Wampanoag homesite residents aren’t in character, but are in traditional dress. They are just as willing to interact with visitors, but on a modern day person to person basis, which is a great way to find yourself back in the twentieth century after the English village, as well as learning the story of their people, and the coming of the Europeans from a native American point of view.The stories are far more effective told in a long house, sitting around the fire on a fur rug.
Plimoth Plantation also encompasses the Mayflower II, on the water in Plymouth itself, just down from the infamous rock. Plimoth Plantation worked with the builder, Warwick Charlton, in Devon England to recreate the Mayflower, the ship that brought the pilgrims to the new world. Built in Brixham, England at the at the Upham Shipyard, the ship sailed to the U.S in April of 1957. The Mayflower II is open for tours, and gives the visitor a feel for what life was like in the cramped quarters of the ship on the original 66 day journey.
And of course there’s the gift shop, one of the nicer and most complete that I’ve come across. With a full range of wares, for the kids, adults, native American products, books, cooking and things for the home, it’s easy to spend an hour or more wandering. I recommend the fudge. Rocky Road to be precise.
If you visit Plimoth Plantation, and you really should, beware the month of November. In addition to people naturally having their curiosity piqued around Thanksgiving, it’s also the time of year when school children of the area are studying the Pilgrims and the founding of the Plymouth Colony. Be sure to bring your children repellent, or avoid this month altogether. Inside the homes you’ll find fairly cramped spaces, and Plimoth begs for the opportunity to interact with the re-enactors one-on-one.
Then again, it really doesn’t matter when you go. Even with swarms of children and adults snapping pictures, Plimoth Plantation works. Perhaps it’s the commitment of the people who bring the place to life, to ignoring the twenty-first century, that allows us to as well.
Learn more:
Images of Plymouth, Massachusetts from The History Trekker Shoppe
Posted in New England, Plymouth
Also tagged colonial american, historic attractions, Plimoth Gallery, plymouth pilgrim, plymouth plantation, plymouth tourism
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Driving through a disappearing countryside in the midwest
To view more photos or order prints from the midwestern country side, click here
I’ve always felt a kind of freedom when I get out of town, off the highways and onto a gravel road, winding through the country. When you grow up close to the country, you always end up at one time or another out there, just wandering. Every house is a bit of history, some notorious but most just the remnants of generations past – people who lived good though often hard lives.
As a photographer, a road gives you an automatic focal point. And it’s very easy to return to the same places over and over again, in all seasons and all weather.
This fall a friend took me to where her grandparents used to live in the country. The house is gone – nothing left but memories. A ditch where kids used to play, an abandoned well, a tree left standing alongside the road – these are the mementos of lives long gone.
Time was, when feeding your family was the first priority, and selling what was leftover an added bonus. Now, when only the largest farms are capable of turning a profit, the farmhouse and the world that revolved around it is becoming a thing of the past. And much is being lost in the process.
As a teenager, the country was where you went when you wanted to escape – from school, parents, friends, police – and it’s also where you went to form relationships. In the town where I was born, there weren’t many places to just sit. And when you’re that age, there has to be a place where two people can figure it all out. We all had our version of Pooh’s thoughtful spot.
Posted in Ohio River Valley
Also tagged "fine art prints", country scenes, historical attractions, landscape prints, rural scenes, ruralcarmi
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