Friday 18 September 2009

''Nostalgia...''


Lately, I have been thinking of my Irish Dancing. I sometimes miss it, because I was very good at it (that is not arrogance, I have the trophies and medals to prove it) and because I miss my old friends, and even the routine - especially crossing the River by ferry to get to Ilford (going by the Tunnel was boring), or going to Catford via Eltham - my mother used to drive past that Anglican church with the tall tower on the roundabout and I liked to look at it - seeing it years later in the distance from the train coming home from London and I wonder at how little aesthetic sense I had...

Anyway, I started dancing when I was 5 years old. I remember my first day in fact - my mother drove my brother and I into Kent to meet the teacher, a woman of about 35 at the time (which makes her about 50 something now) and we came away afterwards with two very different impressions - my brother with how very ''girly'' it was, and I with how very exciting it all was! I think that it was the perfect sense of rhythm, the rigidity of the steps and the music (particularly the Orange Rogue) which first attracted me. I also liked the ''clumpy shoes'' as I called them then. Of course, a minor of my age didn't get to wear them then. I had to wear the soft leather shoes until I was 8. I went through three schools of Irish Dance, the first was with the lady near Bexley called Linda, the second with Anthony at Catford and the third with a couple in Essex called Brenda and Michael.

With Anthony (who I liked the best of them all; he had a pair of ''granny'' glasses at his house, you know the sort with all the patterns on them, so I assumed he was married - I later worked out that they were his) I reached the Advanced Stage, and competed in various feis' (Irish for competition, it's pronounced ''fesh''), winning most of them. Under his tuition, I competed in the Great British Championships in Somerset and the British Nationals in Manchester (coming 2nd Place in both of them - the latter was only because I stopped, but then the music stopped so it wasn't technically my fault, I remember the smug look one of the adjudicators gave me). I best enjoyed my time dancing under Anthony at the Irish Centre. Every St Patrick's Day (or the nearest day to it on the weekend) we used to have a St Patrick's Day parade from the Irish Centre to St Saviour's church at Lewisham where we'd have Mass in Irish (I didn't know of the Old Rite when I was a boy, except the few hints my parents and grandparents used to tell me about how when they were little the Mass was ''all in Latin.'') The parades were great fun. One year (1996 in fact) the Parade fell on my birthday and either before or after the Mass, the entire hall sang Happy Birthday to me. I was looking at that photo the other day; you can see me in my green kilt!

I can't remember exactly when or why, but later on my mother transferred me to another school, and this time on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays after school, we had to go to Ilford and Whitechapel. Under this school, I competed for the Under 11s in the All-Ireland and the World Championships in Co. Clare in Ireland. I came first place for the Qualifier Feis at Wimbledon, but when it came to the major events themselves, I only came 4th Place - I think because my teacher approached me before I danced to inform me that I wasn't welcome at the school anymore (for mercenary reasons I later found out, apparently because my mother couldn't afford Private tuition, I had no place in their school anymore). I was 11 years old and after that I had no desire to return to dancing. Funny how a brief ''traumatic'' experience like that can affect one's future.

I was inspired to write this post because after Benediction this evening, we sang that famous version of St Patrick's Breastplate (at least I think it is) ''Christ be beside me'' - which, when I was little and along with ''Give me Joy in My Heart,'' was my favourite Hymn. They sang Colours of Day, and Gloria in Excelsis (the clapping version) when I was in Primary School but I cordially disliked those and still do. We used to sing ''Christ be beside me'' at the Mass in St Saviour's. I miss those days...

1 comment:

  1. I used to love 'Sing Hosanna' or 'Give me joy in my heart' when I was at primary school. I remember the piano lady used to take requests before assembly, I think, and I'd always request that one.

    We sang the full 'St. Patrick's Breastplate' at an ordination I attended last week as the entrance hymn (after the latin propers were sang at the beginning [this was Novus Ordo but a sign of the times :o)]).

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