A Merry Syncretic, Northern Hemisphere winter time greeting to you all.

Obviously this means nothing if you are living in the tropics which I think includes Ruislip, or the poles which errr doesn’t. It only works if you’ve got seasons and possibly only in the Old World. Or what is referred to as the Old World. The rest existed of course ( or did it? ) but some arrogant Old Worldians went and discovered it bit by bit. I’m sure the indigenous populations had their own festivals, religions etc and were quite happy without Christianity thank you very much. So Christmas in the Caribbean is a bizarre affair.

Talking of bizarre affairs, let us come on to the sessions. Thanks to Radio 4 for the format of this link.

Well the regular Wednesday Irish session has survived another year and is still at the same place. It is gratifying that it started in the George (Stone Street) and is back in the George (Molash) who are the most welcoming and friendly people to have ever taken us in. It doesn’t matter if the pub is empty or full of diners, we still get to play and despite our best efforts, we don’t normally manage to empty it completely. It’s also nice when visitors turn up or when our ‘irregulars’ drop by. We’ve acquired a very good piper this year who drops in when he’s in town (thanks Johnny) and Ford is a regular again with his irrepressible tunes, poetry and good humour.

The spin-offs are worthy of mention because the Unicorn at Bekesbourne continues to be a delight. The pub, Martin, the session – everything seems right. The last one was a bit of a treat, having Chris Taylor, Pete May and Adrian who rarely now play at Irish Sessions.

The Irish at the Chimney Boy is not so good. Not so well attended, not so nice a space but it does give some sessioneers a chance who can’t get to the others.

Talking of the Chimney Boy, the Thursday night session is still going strong with the same faces. I’ve heard some fantastic songs from Gavin (You can’t be a Pirate being a favourite and anything by Flanders and Swan), Helen (can sing anything as far as I’m concerned) and Ernie (although mixing up Barnsley and Bradford is unforgivable :-)). As far as the session goes, it’s great when Pip and Jo get in there and treat us to Northumbrian tunes.

The shining star in the session firmament (although no everbody’s cup of tea) is the Thursday session at the Canterbury Tales. Maybe it should be Tales of the unexpected.

Let me explain. There is a core of 3 – a band called Triskele who are well known to you all. There are other regulars too including a left-handed 5-string banjo player and a multi-instrumentalist, Johnny on the pipes when he’s in town and yours truly. The pub is often heaving with students and the atmosphere is buzzing. The music is often outstandingly good and so much fun but the conditions are cramped, it gets quite hot and you have to protect your instruments (both from damage and occasional use by others). There are no Tunes Police so anything goes although Celtic / East European fusion probably best describes it. Last Thursday we were treated to a pair of Belgians, one with a double bass and the other sang, played ukulele and clog danced at the same time. Without a safety net. Very impressive!. We’ve also had a stunningly good classical violin player. I mean seriously good. Brendan Power has had some tunes with us and if I’ve missed some I’m sorry. Anyway, the good bits far outweigh the bad bits and I hope it continues for as long as possible!

I can’t believe how long it’s been since the last post so apologies to any ardent sessiondiary fans who have been deprived of their regular fix! I don’t know how being retired actually gives you less time than when I worked but it does.

Anyway, lots has happened in the world of sessions so it’s worth a foray into the weird and wonderful world of the music session as observed by a humble sessioneer.

Firstly then the regular weekly Irish session which has been the topic of very mixed fortunes over the years. Not only is it still alive but it is reasonably well and sitting up, taking solid food and being cheeky to the nurses. This is due in equal measure to the absolute stalwarts who refuse to give in and the itinerants who are always most welcome. Susanna is back for a visit, Johnny has passed by again and we’ve had a variety of musicians drop in for an odd week. Yes, I know most weeks are odd. A disproportionate number of percussionists but that was OK. Honest, it was. They could keep time and everything. Without counting out loud!

One highlight was a visit by Fred the banjo (Freddie Legon) and his wife – a one time banjo player with Humphrey Littleton among others who enjoyed what we did. We discovered after he’d left that he’d put a pot behind the bar for all the musicians to have a drink on him. What a star! Sadly no longer playing because of Parkinson’s but a legend in his time. The audiences have become somewhat more appreciative of late so maybe things are looking up for the diddly-eye music :-)

Nice to see Ford back with us as well although we’ve lost a couple of regulars recently. Well, not lost, more like misplaced. I’m sure they’ll turn up somewhere.

Absolute scandal that the Hops Festival this year was not in any way shape or form either family or folk friendly. Several people have remarked on it. One or two without using expletives which shows great restraint and an education. No sessions organised at all and precious few folk bands. Wheeler Street got 16:00 on Sunday – great slot guys! If it’s like that again next year, I’m not going.

Still we pitched up where there was allegedly some kind of event (at the Bull – how far out can you get?). It turned out to be a sing-around in the garden. From what I heard it was a finger-in-the-ear, have-you-brought-your-copy-of-the-folk-book-of-penguins. All together now “page 97 – all 23 verses as slow as you can” kind of event so we slipped away before being spotted.

Barbs and I went in the bar, blagged a corner and got the landlords blessing to play. I had to leave after an hour and a half but I heard it grew and grew and was still going 5 hours later. Good on yer!

Broadstairs was ….. well, Broadstairs. Good sessions with Paul Lucas as usual and a couple of nice days. One with Keith Kendrick and Sylvia Needham and the other with Chris Taylor. Usual crowd in the Nelson. What more can be said?

The Tales continues to be an enjoyable if rather bizarre session at times. Where else could you hear a elderly transvestite singing parodies of Irish songs, Oops I did it again sung by a male with a 5-string banjo, Greek bouzouki music on a tenor banjo and somewhere a load of Irish tunes played very well.

Well just a reminder that this weekend is Deal festival and apparently I’m leading a session in the Ship from 2 – 5 on Saturday so if you want to pop in for some tunes, I’d be delighted to see you. It’ll be a mixed, whatever-happens session and I’ll probably lead mostly English. Unless a large Irish contingent turns up of course :-)

Right! Off to the George for the regular weekly Irish.

Well, here we are at the end of March. Looking forward to April and that massive St George’s Day celebration and Bank Holiday. Wait… no that bit is still fantasy. Somebody got upset that we adopted a Turkish knight. No matter that the others are a tad bogus too. St Patrick was actually Welsh (Maewin). St Andrew was THE St Andrew of Galilee. St David seems authentic though. Does it matter who we adopt then? I thought not. Should we have another Bank Holiday and a day of English celebration? I think so.

What about the sessions? Still going although there is a story to be told. Firstly the Startled Stoat on a Wednesday. Going strong with the regulars and recently, some audience of the old George have rediscovered us. The Sunday spin-offs are still going and the Mythical Beast (Bekesbourne) is the more enjoyable of the two for some reason although the Mythical Beast (Faversham) is a fair do. At the last one, there was much hilarity at the mishearing of the tune name ‘William Durette’s Clog’ leading to the postulation of a Tourette’s Jig – with words, an Alzheimer’s Reel (no one remembers how it all goes) and an OCD Waltz – which never ends. Ho hum. The things the sessioneers dream up.

Meanwhile at the Melodeon Worriers Arms, a sudden change of venue was announced. Despite the pub staying open until July before a refurb. closure and the previous tenants not returning, the session has moved to the same place as the Folk Club except in the front bar. Now I’ve never set foot in there – just heard lots of scary stories. Is this a wise move? I must summon courage and don the bright armour of Sessiondom and sally forth this week. I hear it went well with some luminaries including somebody I now know is known affectionately as ‘Mad Edith’. Never knew that before. Before the move, there was a hiatus so the session nearly didn’t happen. However some enterprising rounding up by one of the regulars produced a stunningly good session all the better for being unexpected.

I was promised elsewhere (where the Wife of Bath would have gone possibly) so I had to miss the inaugural session at the new venue anyway. That is a nice session with some good musicians although there are distractions. One week a rather drunken person took over a guitar and ruined the entire session but luckily quite late on in the proceedings. Still with musicians of high calibre nearly always in attendance, it is an enjoyable evening. You just have to help fill the coffers of Canterbury City Council with parking geld. At least some varied and interesting tunes come up, the landlord likes us and gives us drinks and the pub usually fills up with appreciative listeners. A little cramped at times and a little warm (if wedged between the real fire and the radiator) but a good atmosphere.

Roll on this weeks sessions!

I hope everyone has survived the Northern Hemisphere’s syncretic winter festival. I don’t know what the Southern Hemisphere does but as so much of our tradition relies on the days getting shorter up to the Solstice and then longer again afterwards, many of them won’t make sense if you live near the equator.

The fortunate timing of the Christmas holidays means that the regular Wednesday and Thursday sessions aren’t affected so there is relief for all the sessioneers from the forced proximity of family for extended periods of time.

It is good to see the traditions being upheld, particularly in Faversham where Christmas wouldn’t be the same without the Nativity scene above the shoe shop which includes a polar bear. This year brought a new tradition to the town centre. Above the bank, the lit up message has a few problems with its lights and position, so that when viewed from some angles, it wishes everyone ‘Season’s Cretins’. I wish I weren’t cynical.

I hope everybody got to see ‘Strictly Clog Dancing’ culminating in a flash clog dance in Newcastle at the Grey’s Monument (yes, Earl Grey, for it is he. The monument is for the Reform Act, not the tea). The Newcastle Kingsmen featured a Rapper Dance and the sharp eyed might have spotted Pip and Jo.

Now, will the new year bring us new sessions? Will it invigorate those that exist? We shall have to wait and see but there is definitely a ground swell for a really good pure English Session (yes, we can debate pure and English for a long time).

Hope to see some or all of you at the Startled Stoat and Well Intent for some tunes.

Alright! It’s been a month I know but I’ve been busy …… being retired. You have no idea how busy your life can get if you’re in that nice cossetted world of gainful employment.

Strangely, not everyone saw the ‘Old George’ through the same rose tinted beer glasses as I (I refer readers to the previous post). I had of course forgotten about the odd Morris men who strayed in and the sometimes large number of instrument worriers who joined in. But I didn’t mind that. I didn’t mind the snare drum. There was a camaraderie and a sense of belonging that was lost. Still, the sound and quality of music has definitely continued to improve from those humble beginnings.

Whilst musing on the future of the Mixed Lumpy Session that is currently assailing the Thursday night topers at the Bear, I was struck by two thoughts. One, that it’s rare to have two thoughts … oh, alright, three thoughts. The second was ‘Where do I or don’t I want to play?’ and third, ‘What do I or don’t I want to play?’

The choice of venue is important. Although a wide-ish range of accommodation is tolerable (one must suffer a little for ones art), cold upstairs function rooms with no bar and no audience is definitely out. We don’t ask much we sessioneers but it is infinitely preferable to go to a place that wants you to play rather than tolerates you playing.

As for what –  in an ideal world, I would like a nice English music session to complement the Irish. OK. It can be a little mixed and eclectic. I’m rather fond of some Swedish, Finnish, Norwegian, French, Scottish, Shetland American and Welsh tunes (not to mention other places – like Spain. Damn. I said I wouldn’t mention it). Many tunes from these places and a few Irish too have passed into the corpus of ‘English’. Is that controversial? But for a session it must have No Songs. Not that I dislike songs or singers, I’d just like a session for musicians.

Are session leaders important? The Irish session functions quite well without one and the English session – well it’s complicated. But generally it does have one. I don’t think it would work very well without one but a lot depends on the players.

Time for tea and then out to the ‘New George’ (which began in the reign of Henry VIII I believe!).

I have been preoccupied. Firstly with Facebook and secondly with organising my escape plan from Stalag Luft 18. Many of the sessioneers who feature in this diary are also on Facebook and it provides a more immediate kind of communication and response. There are a couple of pages especially for followers of the antics of the sessioneers: Friends of “The George” Irish Session and Fans of the Bear Sessions.

The first of course refers to the fact that the nomadic session / workshop / lament that takes place on a Wednesday evening started off in the excellent George on Stone Street. It was in the middle of nowhere. It was in a dip which flooded every time it thought about raining and when the rest of Kent, even Capel Le Ferne was enjoying a crystal clear evening, Stone Street would be foggy. And still we went every week. East Kent Morris practised in the back on the same night. The Hooden Horse visited at Christmas (well one of them did). Drew served chips and french bread at half time and the real fire roared away with logs of wood. The bar had a jar which said ‘Musician’s Fund’ and every so often, there would be enough in it (donated by a kindly audience) to buy us all a drink. Many musicians of all calibres would congregate there and some of the evenings were truly memorable. There was even a Bank Holiday Celtic Folk Festival held there.

Then it closed.

I remember the evening when we all arrived to find the pub in darkness and standing around in the misty car park deciding what to do. Those of us who were there decided to go to the Hop Pocket in Bossingham where we played the first of our nomadic sessions in their conservatory. After that we roamed East Kent looking to regain that “George” feel without success. We tried the Chequers at Selsted, the Beverley in Canterbury and even the George on Stone Street after it changed hands to the unfriendliest landlord yet encountered. But the spiritual retreat for the music was for a long time at the Well Known Spoonerism. Regular readers will know where that is. And now it is at another George – this time at Molash where we practice safe sets. I hope the crowds return.

The Bear Session started as an Irish Session before the George Session but morphed into an English one by the time I joined it. And that suited me fine. Irish on Wednesday, English on Thursday. And that’s pretty much how it still is today. Back then, the musicians always got a free drink from the landlord. Strangely this session has stayed put firmly through many landlords (although it did move out to the Three Tuns  for a while while waiting for a friendlier tennant who turned out to be the landlord of the Three Tuns). The pub is usually full of all sorts of interesting people, some of them are musicians, some are audience.

So, a little history of the two main sessions that feature in this diary and a Facebook page or two to join if you’ve a mind to.

And the retirement? Well, after a long and mostly enjoyable career mostly in education, I have the chance to stop working but maintain (more or less) the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed thanks to the Universities Pension Scheme. I started as a Secondary Science Teacher and it was at college that I became converted to Folk. It’s a one way conversion – there is no going back. Playing through the Book of English Penguins with  ‘ a yard of German plywood and a capo’ in the common room. Morris teams were springing up (I joined Green Oak and then started Cheswold and later Luton. Yes, Luton) and some great folk clubs put on acts which would now be far too expensive to even comtemplate.

Anyway, working my way through the education system and keeping ahead of the sheer lunacy that trailed behind me (imposed by successive governments I must add) I moved though Further Education to Higher Education. They’ve all been ruined now. There is no academic freedom just commercial gain. Targets and league tables have killed the spirit of education and what little was left has been mopped up by Health and Safety and the ever present risk of litigation.

Thank God for Folk Music!

Well here we are again. 3 days to Midsummer. In the middle of the festival season. Lots of gigs and events going on. As I sit here listening to Home-to-tea Girl by Roaring Jelly (now Omega 3) I am reflecting on the fortunes of the sessions. Catch them if you can by the way, they’re a fantastically silly and entertaining outfit. Omega 3 that is.

I don’t know if it’s the weather or what but the Irish session is rising phoenix-like from the rather grim times earlier. A lot of it due to hard work by sessioneers like Six-String-Shelagh and some of it is due to great good fortune and Facebook. Whatever the reason it is a real pleasure to see 10 or more playing at the George and more people coming to listen as well.

Not Strictly Session (A BBC Commission I wonder?) but I felt it was worth mentioning. I was invited to join Watershed for a barn dance last Saturday as one of their irregulars and I was most taken with the location and venue. Normally, the prospect of a barn dance in an actual barn fills the band with horror. Visions of a frayed 13 amp cable looping in from somewhere, freezing wind whistling in through the slats in the side, some kind of surface which is guaranteed to create a hovering miasma of what can be best described as recycled organic matter which not only obscures the dancers but also coats the equipment in a dust which Iceland would be proud of. I have heard tell that it’s still inside some mixing desks after 12 years or more – impossible to shift.

However, this was a lambing shed in the wilds of the Weald and it was a beautiful evening. The kind of place where sat navs give up and the road has grass down the middle and you pray you don’t meet a tractor. The shed had only 3 sides being open to a field which sloped gently down before rising again to some trees beyond which was the village with a lazily smoking chimney. The shed had a straw floor and bales for seats. It shouldn’t have been good but it was. It was somehow a complete feeling of continuance with the past. Being so rural and near midsummer (bonfires were prepared and lit at midnight) with communities celebrating with drink and food and dance  it was just magic. Real magic.

Of course if it had been raining it would have been different …..

Alright. It’s been a while, I admit. But things have been happening. It’s quite exciting really as if a new wave of sessioneering has washed over East Kent. I could get into trouble with this analogy. It’s just occurred to me that such a wave would inevitably drop some kind of detritus on the way. If it did, I don’t know where it landed. Honest.

I have a teeny bit of a quandary now (quandrette?) as technically, neither session (Wednesday or Thursday) is a session. Wednesday became an ITM (= Irish Traditional Music) Workshop / Gathering / Practice back at the good old George at Molash (bless them!) and Thursday is different every time (wasn’t that the BBC). Last night for example came close to being a session but other times it is unashamed entertainment and others it is a barn dance practice. Whatever it is, it is usually enjoyable and it has attracted quite a few new players.

Short post I know, but hopefully things are looking up!

For some time now, as followers of this little blog will know, I have been bemoaning the dwindling attendance at Irish Traditional Music Sessions and pondering on innovative ways of getting more players in.

We have now, very sadly decided to cancel the Wednesday night Irish session as it never makes critical mass, so never really becomes a session. The same is true of one of the Sunday Irish sessions as well – the Ship at Ospringe will probably be cancelled too.

I suspect that it’s a law of diminishing returns which started when the session began its nomadic wander in the wilderness after the George on Stone Street closed. When a session is large and vibrant, it attracts more players both good and beginners. The beginners can hide better and learn, and the good ones are glad to be part of a ‘good’ session. As the numbers decrease, musicians are lost from both ends of the spectrum. The beginners have nowhere to hide, feel intimidated and go away. The good ones feel they are keeping it going or that it just isn’t ‘good’ any more – doesn’t have the buzz of a large session, and are less motivated to come out and play.

Before you know it, you’re down to a few dedicated players who try not to let the music die. In the end it ‘s probably kinder to put it out of its misery. 

The nomadic ways haven’t helped but the smoking ban and change of ownership of many pubs have taken their toll. The recent change of venue may have been a move too far. 

Thank you to all those who supported the Irish Session over the years at whichever session  you pitched up in – Wednesday or Sunday (George Stone Street, Hop Pocket Bossingham, Chequers Selstead, Geeorge Stone Street (2)Rose and Crown Stelling Minnis, Anchor Wingham, George Molash, Anchor Wingham (2)Shipwrights Oare Creek, Compasses Crundale, Anchor Faversham, Prince Albert Deal, Sportsman Dover, Olde Beverlie Canterbury, Chequers Challock and I’m sure there are some I’ve forgotten).

Well here we are safely on the other side of St Patrick’s night. It’s a bit like the proverbial bus. Some years there are none and then the next year two come along at once.

That’s what happened this year. Both the regular sessions held a St Patrick’s night ‘do’. Both with Irish Stew (yes, fill in the joke to which this is part of the punchline. All together now…). So it was a traditional Irish night at the Startled Stoat – and the last for it hath movéd – back to the Unfortunate Spoonerism in Ingham where it hath been these two weeks since. Not entirely sure that this was a good move as we’ve now lost John the flute as well as Ian the piper (while he’s studying) and Andy the banjo (hopefully only temporarily – get well soon and come back playing!).

The session in the Well Intent (or Shackled Yak) was a different beast. More Irish music than I imagined coutesy of Chris, Graham, Shelagh, Barbara, George and myself (sorry if I missed anyone) and accompanied by the other regulars. More songs this time too which is fine for a Paddy’s night entertainment. 

Well, numbers are still low at the Irish session whether it be the regular Wednesday evening or one of the two Sunday slots (2nd Sunday Unicorn at Bekesbourne, last Sunday Ship at Ospringe) but it keeps going defiantly.

If anybody is interested, for a bit of social fun, there is a facebook page – Fans of the Bear Sessions. Please join and say hi. Add a photo, tune, comment – whatever.