Images from the Faire
May. 29th, 2007 11:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pecuniumI took some time, from my various exertions at the faire, to wander about and take pictures. Some of them were of friends.
Christina is probably the belle of the court. Even at a remove her sense of place, poise and presence make her believable.
Here she's taking her leave of the Countess of Derby
The Earl of Derby, a fellow of infinite jest. He also has a good sense of how to play the crowd. The interactions may be short, but he gets; and holds, them, while forcing them to take some part in their own amusement.
This year we had a spinnet player. Faire is a hard gig. There is no script, one has to do improv, from the rise of curtain, until the lights go out. Not only is it improv, but the audience gets to talk to you, and the role has to be maintained.
They try to break you, but they want you to hold up, to make them believe, for just a moment, that you are who you claim to be.
Patrice came to the faire, every week from Phoenix, and sat herself down, and played. Eight hours a day, no sheet music.
Because of the dust, every morning, when she put the spinnet together, she had to remove the jacks and clean them.
Once it was together, she played. The repetoire wasn't huge, maybe fifteen minutes of pieces, but the effect was great. People had to stop to hear it. Children would stop and stare. She played some Bach. It's not period, but, as she said to me, "Every little girl who has piano lessons comes up and says, "I know how to play that." For that reason alone, it was worth it.
More to follow
Christina is probably the belle of the court. Even at a remove her sense of place, poise and presence make her believable.
Here she's taking her leave of the Countess of Derby
The Earl of Derby, a fellow of infinite jest. He also has a good sense of how to play the crowd. The interactions may be short, but he gets; and holds, them, while forcing them to take some part in their own amusement.
This year we had a spinnet player. Faire is a hard gig. There is no script, one has to do improv, from the rise of curtain, until the lights go out. Not only is it improv, but the audience gets to talk to you, and the role has to be maintained.
They try to break you, but they want you to hold up, to make them believe, for just a moment, that you are who you claim to be.
Patrice came to the faire, every week from Phoenix, and sat herself down, and played. Eight hours a day, no sheet music.
Because of the dust, every morning, when she put the spinnet together, she had to remove the jacks and clean them.
Once it was together, she played. The repetoire wasn't huge, maybe fifteen minutes of pieces, but the effect was great. People had to stop to hear it. Children would stop and stare. She played some Bach. It's not period, but, as she said to me, "Every little girl who has piano lessons comes up and says, "I know how to play that." For that reason alone, it was worth it.
More to follow
