Magic Moments

Heidi J Torres hjt at tenet.edu
Tue Jun 24 23:24:57 PDT 1997


Greetings from Mari!

Interesting topic.  This is one my friends and I have been discussing at 
great length for several years now.

Probably the climax of all "magic moments" for me occurred at a Bjornsborg 
event 
(Fall Court, I think) a few years back when Thomas of Tenby directed and 
performed "The Battle of Maldon" around a campfire.

As is usual in many of Thomas' performances, the performers were 
stationed around and within the circle.  The quality of the performance 
was such that you were immediately caught up within it.  I cannot tell 
you the words every one spoke, but I still remember the firelight, the 
ring of their voices, the stillness of the rapt listeners -- who in 
hearing had become participants.

I honestly felt their voices vibrating within me.  I wager that everyone 
else at that fire did as well.  Thomas and his players swept us all up 
into their performance and their world, caught up our senses then pulled 
them so taut they could play our emotions like strings.

At the end of the piece, the crescendo of battle peaks and crashes, there 
is a moment of silence, then -- I still have this memory so clearly -- I 
can see Ragnar, the victorious Viking chieftain, his great axe hung over 
his shoulder, and hear his soft, gravelly voice saying "Row, men, row.  
The monks of Ely (?) sing of their dead.  Let us row and listen 
awhile....."  And at that moment, Robyn Solarius' angelic voice rose from 
the woods, pure and sweet, singing an old chant.  The players all pulled 
back into the darkness, leaving Robyn alone by a torch, shining like a 
candle flame and singing, until he too stepped back and trailed off, like 
a candle going out.

The hair was standing up on the back of my neck and I don't think anyone 
was breathing.
There were this long, incredible moment of silence -- none of us who had 
heard and were a part of it wanted it to end -- as if everyone's breath 
was indrawn, waiting; then, I don't remember how, the howling and 
cheering and clapping started and I don't know how it ended.  Everyone 
around me -- Athena, Galen Nicolli, Rognvald -- had tears running down 
their faces.

To me, the world is often divided into those of us who were there that 
night, and those who weren't.  I'm not sure those who weren't will ever 
comprehend what it felt like, but I hope another chance comes along.  And 
I will always bless Thomas for my chance.

Mari ferch Rathtyen




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