Category: Education

Women’s emancipation is nothing without formal and informal education Without it, we’d simply be the hysterical, under-utilised, wasted talent with unhappy wives and husbands.
Education is part of the solution.

Community /

Love Letter to the Fèis

In the Beginning

The year was 2007, and I was 27 years old. On a whim, I decided to buy myself a fiddle from the music shop in Tain. A gift to myself, or so I thought. Little did I realise then that the act of becoming proficient at playing it would be an act of labour, love, and patience, and not just my own. The tutors that have taught me over the years have shown equal amounts of encouragement, support, and top tips to make my playing better and sweeter than how they found it. This is why I am constantly amazed by the sheer array of talent in our region, and in Scotland more widely. I’m also slightly saddened that the value we place on the arts to create community bonds, to inspire artistic excellence, and to develop inquiring and creative minds, is often overlooked. But this is not a political statement. This is about what binds people through the arts.

     About the same time as I realised that owning a fiddle did not a fiddler make, I came across the well-known and junior fèis stalwart, fiddle tutor, Alpha Munro of Foulis. I trundled up the road faithfully every fortnight for about two years, to break the back of the early years’ practice, inflicting insults on tender ears and feeling horrendously self-conscious by every bum note or scrape of the “e” string. But eventually, frustration gave way to pleasure, and I while my adult self was painfully aware that my beginner renditions of Paddy’s Leather Breaches, would win no mod comp, Alpha directed me to one of Scotland’s finest gems in the trad scene, Fèis Rois.

Team Fèis

     Led by the indomitable Fiona Dalgetty, her team’s commitment and energy to bring all parts of the trad community together through events, classes, and ceilidhs is boundless. My love affair with The Fèis had begun, and I spent most of the next decade modestly progressing my session abilities or trying out new workshops in step dancing, Gaelic singing, or whistle playing.

     But I am also a realist, and coming late as I did to trad music, I learned to restrict my efforts in this lifetime to very average, yet enjoyable (for me) fiddle playing and leave the multi-instrumentalism to the exceptionally talented youngsters, and time-served professionals of the fèis movement. They are, after all, what keeps the traditions alive.

Ullapool

     This May bank holiday weekend was no exception. Once again, I made the annual pilgrimage to Ullapool for the adult fèis, an event so spectacular in its simplicity, as it is in the talents and good craic of tutors and participants alike. For three wonderful days and nights, participants are treated to a wild display of talent, and teaching, and if anyone comes home feeling anything less than uplifted by the spirit of trad music, then their soul must have got up and left the building.

     It always begins for me the moment I turn the key in the ignition and set forth westbound along the A835, letting others take care of my responsibilities at home or on the croft for two of the three days the fèis takes place on. The drive towards Ullapool brings me great pleasure – the narrow winding roads from Conon to Garve, the vast open expanses of the Dheerie, before spotting the safe haven of Lochbroom, where I try to calculate if I have enough time to make it to the school to pick up my wristband for the weekend.

     Full of anticipation for the days ahead yet savouring the quiet moments before it all kicks off tomorrow, I spend the evening with family hosts and enjoy the delights of a homecooked “Seafood Shack” recipe for monkfish curry. See here for yourself. We swap the stories of our lives since last spring, what’s new, and what’s not, over a glass of something red and delicious.

A’ Chiad Latha/Day One

     Then boom, the classes begin. First up, it’s an upper intermediate (UI) class with a tutor new to me. Step forward Mr Charlie McKerron, renowned fiddler with Capercaillie and Session A9 to name just a few of his many accomplishments. Clearly, and deservedly, he has a following among the participants of the class, and I can see why, light-hearted and witty, he made the UI class fun and enjoyable for everyone. We shared notes on the brilliance of Gordon Stevenson’s fiddle-making and he even made my fiddle sound better, although that was more down to his playing it than anything he managed to teach me!

     A well-earned lunch break took me to An Talla Solais to listen to Mairearad Green and Kim Richards, who flawlessly duetted their way through tune after tune in the intimate art gallery setting. What a great addition to the fringe programme for this year.    

Back to class, where cheeky chappy John Carmichael led us through the tunes in a “playing for dancing” class. I swear I hope to be as happy at my work as this man when I’m an octogenarian (he’s not a lady, so I can mention his age). He entertained us with stories between every set of tunes, showed us cheat-sheet intros for Canadian Barn Dances and Strip the Willows, and had a smile on his face so broad, you couldn’t help but mirror it back.

     There are some years when I might have snuck off for a quick norag after class to get ready for the session later on, but not this year. No visit to Ullapool is complete without a visit to a bookshop, or a wee deoch at the Ceilidh Place, and the warm spring sun made it the perfect way to unwind after the first day of learning. One of the things I love about the fèis is that you often get the chance to speak to people you wouldn’t ordinarily meet. Here I met two hardy women from the north of England who were heading up to Clachtoll to camp for a few days. They were amazed by all the musicians stotting around the village and most disappointed when they learned that the evening’s concert was sold out. No matter, they, too, will be back next year, they told me.

    Shortly after a warming brandy from the Ceilidh Place, I collect my order from the Seafood Shack – I buy not cook their delicious recipes – a haddock wrap (there is simply no better fancy fish supper than this) and a trout salad for my more health-conscious cousin to set us up for the evening ahead. I’ll be glad of this later I tell myself.

     It’s 7.30pm by now and we’re in the MacPhail Centre, adjacent to Ullapool High School, waiting for the evening’s instalment of talent. Props here to Blas Festival for selecting Chloe Bryce as their latest, very worthy recipient of their annual commission. Bryce and her band tell us a generous, warm-hearted, and fascinating tale of the Summer Walkers, the last known travelling folk of Easter Ross to make a true summer pilgrimage around the north coast of Sutherland to earn their money by tin-smithing and horse-trading.

     She tells us of the marvellous Essie Stewart, and her family, as they made their journey northwards. To hear recordings of their Gaelic was really quite something. Hearing it for the first time made me happy yet, sad too, at the loss of the dancing tongues and forgotten ways of the Highland travelling folk’s East Coast Gaelic. To say this commission deserves a wider and ongoing airing would be an understatement.

     The second part of the concert was brought to us by Olivia Ross, well known for her role in the band The Shee.  A voice like clear honey and commanding starts to each song that captured our attention from the get-go with the experience and grace of a seasoned performer.

     Not content with delighting us throughout the performances, the sessions continued aplenty all across the village.  The Arch Inn and the Ceilidh Place for me until the wee small hours before hoofing it in the dark up the road to Braes for a few hours kip before doing it all over again.

An Dàrna Latha/Second Day

     A slightly bleary-eyed start to the morning but no less than two great workshops with Charlie and John once more, before submitting to the journey home to pick up the reins of life once more. I might have managed to slip in a visit to the merch stand and picked up a copy of Amy Geddes’ album “Messing” to keep me company across the Dheerie. Track 3 Lisardo Lombardia of Asturias by Fred Morrison kept me captivated as I reflected on all that is magnificent about the Scottish trad scene.

     For those able to stay for three wonderful days and nights, the tutor concert on the Sunday tonight brings all of this talent and more to one stage in a delectable display of trad delights par excellence. On top of FOMO, I am green with envy at those who would have heard nothing short of brilliance in what surely must be a one-of-a-kind event.

A Final Word

     There are of course many more artists, staff, volunteers and venues to mention that I couldn’t do justice to, but that’s the beauty of it, because this trad family will be there again next year with a new programme of events and tutors to discover.

     All that remains to say, is that if you haven’t ever been and felt the spirit and traditions of this community, it’s high time you did. I’ll content myself for now with the memories and a last laugh when, delightfully exhausted by all the learning and the fun, I reached for the eye make-up remover late last night before falling into bed, realising just in time that the bottle I’d lifted off the shelf was in fact nail varnish remover – and that, perhaps more than all the gushing words above, is a sign of a great weekend!

Education /

For The Love of Teaching

Anna-Wendy Stevenson, Teacher Extraordinaire

Anna-Wendy Stevenson comes from a long line of musicians, tradition bearers and creative talent. Her father, Gordon Stevenson, most well-known for his exceptional workmanship as a master violin-maker, her grandfather, Ronald Stevenson, a gifted composer and violin player, and her aunt Gerda Stevenson, poet and actress, author of “Quines, a selection of poems in tribute to Scottish Women”.  It is hardly surprising then, that Anna-Wendy herself has many plaudits to her name as a player, composer, poet, and teacher.

It is the latter that I wish to turn a spotlight on. So often we can focus on the tangible achievements such as the awards, the albums, the stage performances, but having known Anna-Wendy for nearly 15 years, it is her remarkable character and exquisite gifts as an enabler of all that is good in her students. Some people say that like attracts like and if you’ve ever been taught by her or been in her presence as she seeks to bring together the many disparate elements of musical collaboration, then you will recognize that you have been touched by her talent and passion for teaching and enabling.  Her style welcomes you as your own thirst meets a drink.

I recall over a decade ago now, a time when we arranged to meet at a youth hostel in Perthshire. We hadn’t known each other too long then but we chatted and caught up over coffee, and she taught me Stan Chapman’s Jig, which I’m sure is still somewhere under my fingers. Later that day, we were driving to Perth when she tentatively asked me if I would like to listen to something she had recorded. She put on “My Edinburgh” and waited for some feedback while I listened. As my mind was treated to the full-bodied, delightful details of all that my ears could handle, she told me casually how she wrote all the parts for each of the musicians and instruments, which of the characters she knew and what the Edinburgh scene had meant to her.

My eyes leaked a little, and I knew I was listening to something special, not only because of her skill in playing and interpreting music, but because of who she was and what it must have taken to produce such delicate, sweet notes, each one carefully considered or spontaneously heard in her mind. A person of ego might have spoken incessantly of her own work, and maybe she thought it, but all I felt that day was the true joy of learning a jig from a beautiful soul who stepped with ease and grace between her own highly talented world to my own stumbling one of the adult learner, replete with bum notes and those screeches.

Since my own personal gains arising from her teaching talent, and throughout the growth of our friendship, I have also seen Anna-Wendy blossom into the highly skilled professional educator and leader she is today. I clapped (online) as she won the MG Alba Na Trads Award for Best Tutor in 2018. I listened to her exceptional talk at the University of the Highlands and Islands International Women’s Day event in 2019 and I barely recognized the now-blossoming feis tutor from years back. She owned that stage and had every woman in the room inspired by the way she wove story into music, and back to story again, as she let her career unfold in the most creative of ways. She reminded me of the university professors at my old Alma Mater, Heriot-Watt, whose breadth of talent allowed them to teach in their second language while working as active interpreters and translators in their mother tongues, teaching students, and marking essays and handling all the other aspects that must surely come with academic life. Anna Wendy was, and is, a truly creative professional, able to do and to teach with equal ability and flair.

If it weren’t for the considerable skills in her self-effacing playbook, then I’m certain others would be jealous of her abilities and talents. But the quiet way she works through each challenge to produce such beautiful work, whether it’s a student event, or degree assignment, or a house ceilidh, her love for her work shines through, and it is hard not to appreciate those talents in others, even if we might envy their position. She, of course, is too modest to even consider that someone might think her so capable, but it is my duty as her friend and student, to shine a light on her, the most beautiful of musical souls.

I still smile inwardly at the delight I took in her teaching me Stan Chapman’s, while she hid the true extent of her talents. But that is who she is. Barely a glance towards her own considerable talent and potential, and always willing to help an eager student like myself. If you ever find yourself in her class, bask in that glow.

*Ends*

You’ll find her here https://www.anna-wendy.com/ and here https://www.uhi.ac.uk/en/research-enterprise/cultural/institute-for-northern-studies/staff/anna-wendy-stevenson/

Education /

Highland Suffrage Centenary Celebrations with Lizzie McDougall of Ross-shire

You might expect a professional storyteller to tell a great yarn, but to be able to do that literally through the medium of fabric and visual artistry, while also navigating the thorny topics of women’s equality with a group of unknown women to create the beautiful banner (see below) in under three months, is frankly a feat of great ability. Lizzie McDougall displayed all these skills and more when, in 2018, she stepped up to deliver Ross-shire’s emblematic efforts to mark the centenary celebration of UK women’s suffrage as commissioned by Ullapool gallery, An Talla Solais.

The project began its life as part of the London-based Artichoke Project’s vision for a giant nationwide art event celebrating Women’s Suffrage. Over 100 groups from across the UK took part in the project that culminated in mass processions in all four capitals in 2018; Edinburgh, Belfast, Cardiff and London and involved tens of thousands of women in June 2018.

Lizzie was one of three artists commissioned in the Highlands, with Alex Patience in Caithness and Heidi Soos, in Inverness each working with groups of women to develop their needlework.

Pic: Lizzie rocking the “Boats for Women” at home in Easter Ross

A highly experienced visual artist Lizzie knew immediately she wanted to take part in the commission, yet she says getting started wasn’t easy “ one of the first things to do was to find unifying themes and ways to illustrate them, An Tall Solais had invited lots of women to take part but they didn’t know each other, or have common cause, so it was exciting to hear everyone’s thoughts on women’s suffrage. What quickly emerged was that everyone felt that the journey to equality would not be over till all women everywhere have equality, and that we all felt committed to improving things for all children.”

Lizzie explained that many of the other groups in the UK had cohesion as they were already working on common goals, such as the Southall Black Sisters, [who also took part and who organize around the needs of black (Asian and African-Carribean women). Wester Ross had less cohesion around a single theme, however after the initial discussions with the group, the idea for the boat as the symbol of Highland Women’s suffrage emerged as a visual interpretation of the journey we’re on towards equality, about a boat’s metaphorical interpretation as floating above the different issues that affect women while bringing to life the idioms of being “all in the same boat” and “rocking the boat” appealed to her sense of collectivism and mischief.  Being a talented visual artist Lizzie could see how this would look in the procession as we paraded through the streets of Edinburgh.

After quickly identifying all these strands, and careful not to be overwhelmed by them, in her own words, “one of the participant’s young daughter saved the day when she said, “Can I say something? I don’t think that it’s fair that I don’t get to play rugby just because I’m a girl”, everyone stopped and listened to her story and so she became the figurehead of my imagined boat”. In stepped local politician, Maree Todd MSP, to contribute her very own rugby shirt, no doubt acting as a role model in the process and this was used in the banner.

Lizzie took me on a passionate tour of all the characters Highland female archetypes that emerge as passengers on the voyage; the crofter, farmer and gardener representing women’s connection to the land, the teachers doing it for the children and the next generation of Highland women, Mairi Hedderwick’s Katie Morag, a model Highland feminist if ever there was one, the scientist, the henwife, a traditional midwife in Highland communities helping to birth the next generation, the music-makers, art promoters, teachers, entrepreneurs, businesswomen. Each of these archetypes are carefully depicted in material by all the women who took part, telling the story of Highland women today and 100 years ago.

I ask her whether she thinks the challenges of organising women for this project can reveal something about the challenges of organizing around women’s issues more generally in the Highlands or rural areas. Far too modest, she suggests she isn’t qualified to give her opinion on that – she’s a visual artist, first and foremost, that suffrage was the topic was incidental to her interest in the project, but I am not convinced there isn’t an opinion in there. I try again, and this time, she offers, “choosing a slogan for the banner that everyone could identify with was challenging but

Boats for Women felt like it was a way of saying opportunities for women. Later she reels off a list of names of inspirational Ross-shire women who have contributed so much to Highland life, putting dreams into action and making things happen even in the face of latent chauvinism. Her face lights up when she talks of the work of Rita Hunter, Alpha Munro, Kate Martin, Fiona Dalgetty, Lesley Strang and Jean Urquhart. I make a mental note to request an interview with each of them in the future. She talks about Rona Lightfoot, the great Uist piper, who challenged every possible male norm by having the audacity to enter Mod piping competitions long before it was made the commonplace occurrence it is now, and how this contrasts with the piper on the banner who is wearing a mini skirt, fairy wings and welly boots while piping at Bella. So much of the success of the development of the arts and the Feis movement is down to the incredible commitment of women and has ensured that the Highlands are full of wonderful art and music and that young people have amazing opportunities now.

Realising she hasn’t told me about the Pictish influences on the banner she brings me back to talk about the large figure on the banner who is both feeding a baby and steering the boat, how the feminine principle was revered because creating life and giving birth were seen as both strong and vulnerable, that we have lost some of this and it’s important to bring it back and remind ourselves of women’s inner strength.

She concludes by sharing some stories of the work of women she knows have contributed immensely to life in the Highlands. Those named above featuring greatly. It is clear that whether she calls herself a feminist or not, as a woman, her experience and contributions to the Women’s Suffrage project have been strongly influenced by her own experiences of Highland life as well as the many women whose work she admires. I heard this in her voice and it’s plain to see in the banner. No woman left out, every stitch crafted with skill and patience, and the help of a great many friends, colleagues and journeywomen along the way.

There has since been an exhibition of the banners in London.

Universal suffrage was granted in 1928 so watch out for the next centenary celebration in which Highland women rise up and rock the boat.

*Ends*

Lizzie continues her voyage with the Highland Suffrage banner in schools, communities and

exhibition spaces. If you’d like to book a talk or hang the banner in your exhibition space, get in

touch with Lizzie direct here https://www.facebook.com/storyquilts

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