tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55953779200752770722024-03-16T18:26:01.235+00:00Andy LetcherFolk, paganism, psychedelics, animism and all manner of wyrdlore.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.comBlogger257125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-9410969258302616892016-09-29T12:21:00.000+01:002016-09-29T12:21:16.495+01:00The English Magic TarotThe eagle-eyed among you will have noticed that my name, and my face, are attached to a new tarot deck, <a href="http://www.englishmagictarot.com/" target="_blank">the English Magic Tarot</a>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMZL-1eBcH1fyDlnB3A1z0xz2xft9lkkavzj2uQTtsy5Uem66XXgFFpjdrDgEfdTGN1Sh3FwkfaOPmzXSS3fdd15VlsBfL1Cpg6N5uXXCxPuoMMSDK2Ytzvn2946hhN5yJjoqZNXYl_mu/s1600/The+Fool.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMZL-1eBcH1fyDlnB3A1z0xz2xft9lkkavzj2uQTtsy5Uem66XXgFFpjdrDgEfdTGN1Sh3FwkfaOPmzXSS3fdd15VlsBfL1Cpg6N5uXXCxPuoMMSDK2Ytzvn2946hhN5yJjoqZNXYl_mu/s1600/The+Fool.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Fool from the English Magic Tarot by Rex Van Ryn, Steve Dooley and Andy Letcher</td></tr>
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The story of my involvement goes like this.</div>
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When first we moved back home to Devon, our next-door-neighbour happened to be the occult artist Rex Van Ryn. We got friendly and he explained how he was drawing a new tarot deck, the English Magic Tarot.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi31xqcivVtI9ZP8mCQsve5fyWsCoIDgakNRjI31jBpktkI_OExV6ur-mtKhduD4EMsTjve6m5PZbvS6hE9fisL-MoFBmOx3CpCrTxVUqoeML925hWyEwEB2gRYQSlqHgZAv4ENb0P8iyLQ/s1600/Fortune.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi31xqcivVtI9ZP8mCQsve5fyWsCoIDgakNRjI31jBpktkI_OExV6ur-mtKhduD4EMsTjve6m5PZbvS6hE9fisL-MoFBmOx3CpCrTxVUqoeML925hWyEwEB2gRYQSlqHgZAv4ENb0P8iyLQ/s1600/Fortune.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fortune from the English Magic Tarot by Rex Van Ryn, Steve Dooley and Andy Letcher</td></tr>
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Every day he'd journey to receive the image for one card using a kind of shamanistic-inspired lucid dreaming. Once the image had arrived, he'd sketch it down on a large piece of paper. He then added period detail, setting the images in the turbulent period that stretches from the Reformation to the Restoration – a time that was perhaps the heyday of English magic.<br />
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Rex has a background in both comics and storyboarding for movies.<br />
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It shows.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJCdmr37jS6Wcf4jm5AnUmnGKCjHtgZNGCB8vF9X81Fc4ZM3UFBwZ141XJ0KOePOYzG0YFrlYNUZ0_neQF-bwuVNDPP_oAF8GFfXTl3rJ9uGUH7dB34z2_54Nq7t9WMeh4Vnk7eYcJALN/s1600/Judgment.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJCdmr37jS6Wcf4jm5AnUmnGKCjHtgZNGCB8vF9X81Fc4ZM3UFBwZ141XJ0KOePOYzG0YFrlYNUZ0_neQF-bwuVNDPP_oAF8GFfXTl3rJ9uGUH7dB34z2_54Nq7t9WMeh4Vnk7eYcJALN/s1600/Judgment.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Judgment from the English Magic Tarot by Rex Van Ryn, Steve Dooley and Andy Letcher</td></tr>
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I find Rex's graphic-style pictures to have a movement and a dynamism that I haven't seen in tarot before. They're like frames from a graphic novel. They invite you in.<br />
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Imagine my surprise when one day he asked if I would do the writing. More than that, could I think of some overarching theme or narrative that would bind the whole deck together, something to do with English magic?<br />
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Of course I said yes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHtFF6iXNawjM-uRYrismtovO3jXvp_iZHM_tsZOiAPPbQIYH306z6X_kl8um43IGZvp30hya3oF6EZbmtIO2n4OiyU5mHivvN2U94kJ1b6NKuDcfCCTvERVkSLt2wjmdnGXSszf6pAAqb/s1600/Justice.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHtFF6iXNawjM-uRYrismtovO3jXvp_iZHM_tsZOiAPPbQIYH306z6X_kl8um43IGZvp30hya3oF6EZbmtIO2n4OiyU5mHivvN2U94kJ1b6NKuDcfCCTvERVkSLt2wjmdnGXSszf6pAAqb/s1600/Justice.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Justice from the English Magic Tarot by Rex Van Ryn, Steve Dooley and Andy Letcher</td></tr>
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My interest in the tarot goes all the way back to childhood, when I encountered the cards in the pages of 2000AD. Over the years I have studied many decks, especially Pamela Coleman Smith's famous 'Rider-Waite' deck, and Aleister Crowley's intensely psychedelic Thoth deck, brought to life by Lady Frieda Harris.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRlYjWzu-kdo2K-Ow1QDWfAilfk02kWwMdqasLyJ0qbQqijU_sPWstQXhyphenhyphenJ0mKQyMXBxfRCOBp2acCoR7XJy4XHa3sApj3KH2giX-D6YC7Jmq-5gQgjaUe5zYcHHlJTuiR8J5T3zwIABwu/s1600/WaiteSmith.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRlYjWzu-kdo2K-Ow1QDWfAilfk02kWwMdqasLyJ0qbQqijU_sPWstQXhyphenhyphenJ0mKQyMXBxfRCOBp2acCoR7XJy4XHa3sApj3KH2giX-D6YC7Jmq-5gQgjaUe5zYcHHlJTuiR8J5T3zwIABwu/s320/WaiteSmith.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Rider-Waite tarot, illustrated by Pamela Coleman Smith</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeEaUtpPBbtp6tpx4lZCRTfD_HZZfvwKAgAOvBezBtqYnHFCXHDIf7__o125-IeI9WO2H1Cr9nf_fk9ae8pIkfd5-wonrrETYIcxIbBrqt5wjthIA6hZgQdE5PEmt9OK1E_BX6YiCxjZTc/s1600/Crowley+Deck.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeEaUtpPBbtp6tpx4lZCRTfD_HZZfvwKAgAOvBezBtqYnHFCXHDIf7__o125-IeI9WO2H1Cr9nf_fk9ae8pIkfd5-wonrrETYIcxIbBrqt5wjthIA6hZgQdE5PEmt9OK1E_BX6YiCxjZTc/s320/Crowley+Deck.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aleister Crowley's Thoth tarot, illustrated by Lady Frieda Harris</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Rex and I found we both shared a postmodern, chaos-magick approach to the cards. Whatever meaning there is in the cards is the meaning we bring. The cards are therefore story-catalysts, a tool to reveal the stories we tell about ourselves, and the potential means to change them. If they are frames from a graphic novel, then it's a novel that's open and fluid. The tarot allows us to change how the story goes.</span><br />
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Having visioned and inked the images, Rex, in true old-school comic style, passed them on to fellow artist Steve Dooley to colour.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMPB0PYJ0Y6CdbGDk_DqB3jcCBFtYsVjb9ieGDcji0lBUWCdvF-8i7LA5vxvZ8GH0v0kPrBnOwzdSKSm1ylGXKcD_d2upN4rjm06TuPQtGckPNS88zTHfdXwiINpbY-f8UtCPPoGae7zWK/s1600/THE+FOOL+0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMPB0PYJ0Y6CdbGDk_DqB3jcCBFtYsVjb9ieGDcji0lBUWCdvF-8i7LA5vxvZ8GH0v0kPrBnOwzdSKSm1ylGXKcD_d2upN4rjm06TuPQtGckPNS88zTHfdXwiINpbY-f8UtCPPoGae7zWK/s320/THE+FOOL+0.jpg" width="204" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Fool, before colouring, from the English Magic Tarot by Rex Van Ryn, Steve Dooley and Andy Letcher</td></tr>
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He gave Steve a free hand, and so Steve's rendering is, if you like, the first telling, the first interpretation. My writing is the second.<br />
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For much of last year, I secluded myself in a friend's garden shed and wrote the book that accompanied the cards. When it came to giving interpretations, I never really knew what I was going to write. Sure, I brought my tarot knowledge to the table, but I simply allowed the cards to speak. Often I surprised myself by what I wrote.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwBEi2VQ6xaBneqnpSs86LmLA6vXawE7yVuHk6aDbXTethF6_IJrxKY8j7gzoF10GtijD4Wvc8hzJ0XyFFkwEPiSGisRDrfkJpl5jwiDQdNzCMjeY7QAC2q474Q_wmfYf4GW6AbsFsGij/s1600/EMT-book-cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwBEi2VQ6xaBneqnpSs86LmLA6vXawE7yVuHk6aDbXTethF6_IJrxKY8j7gzoF10GtijD4Wvc8hzJ0XyFFkwEPiSGisRDrfkJpl5jwiDQdNzCMjeY7QAC2q474Q_wmfYf4GW6AbsFsGij/s320/EMT-book-cover.jpg" width="231" /></a></div>
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I had a small input into the images themselves, too. If you look at the cards you might spot strange scripts, odd images and references, letters that are the wrong colour and so on. All are clues that point not to treasure alas, but to something from English magic, something that does indeed bind all the cards together. They're there to encourage you to look at the cards in different ways.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpAx6bhLoAVwkUcAYVNxpyhxQ73BsKDXBlrAR3NUo8OF6LdPZ4fvwGZl8Tyn45i6hChU9WPXN146Ku3S6EEc_3jbC6gAkKSmsmQLAjo23SHdolKzQGaF1dvIUDm5apxcXit-1Xxhl7PCo/s1600/Magician.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcpAx6bhLoAVwkUcAYVNxpyhxQ73BsKDXBlrAR3NUo8OF6LdPZ4fvwGZl8Tyn45i6hChU9WPXN146Ku3S6EEc_3jbC6gAkKSmsmQLAjo23SHdolKzQGaF1dvIUDm5apxcXit-1Xxhl7PCo/s1600/Magician.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Magician from the English Magic Tarot by Rex Van Ryn, Steve Dooley and Andy Letcher</td></tr>
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And, at the end of the book I revive a largely forgotten technique from Renaissance magic, that involves the creation of a memory theatre or memory palace. Most people know this from the recent BBC Sherlock series, but the technique is ancient and would have been used by English magicians at the time in which the deck is set. From what people are saying, this technique is news to most, so I'm glad to be bringing it back.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCUTPvpflidu6eh64CmlN7fckG2FbSvvbEOpGg3mY_q1Qu6twQgeKdpA4qC7_T6RKmEIEOCxmL_wagvSAXz4qG6rgTiTzzZDGPSnRkYQowEhtJzsjbp9KzPY6U8ebEd3M7swUFfFaYdK4X/s1600/Theatre1S.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCUTPvpflidu6eh64CmlN7fckG2FbSvvbEOpGg3mY_q1Qu6twQgeKdpA4qC7_T6RKmEIEOCxmL_wagvSAXz4qG6rgTiTzzZDGPSnRkYQowEhtJzsjbp9KzPY6U8ebEd3M7swUFfFaYdK4X/s320/Theatre1S.jpeg" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Memory Palace from the English Magic Tarot by Rex Van Ryn, Steve Dooley and Andy Letcher</td></tr>
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Oh, and Rex and I have included some new spreads too: his is 'the Broadsheet', and mine 'the Prism'.<br />
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Rex had one last surprise for me. He gave the Fool my face. I'm unpersuaded by the idea of archetypes, but just let's say that of all the images in the card, the Fool has always been my favourite. Some of you may even have heard one of my (very early!) songs, 'Embrace the Fool'.<br />
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I'm still digesting what it means to be given a kind of immortality in a tarot card, but I feel greatly honoured.<br />
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So far the deck appears to be generating considerable interest and great reviews. If you're into tarot, do check it out. I hope you'll enjoy the images as much as I have.<br />
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The English Magic Tarot is published by <a href="http://redwheelweiser.com/detail.html?id=9781578636006" target="_blank">Red Wheel/Weiser</a> and is available from all the usual outlets.<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-58444579289234217742016-06-25T07:51:00.000+01:002016-06-25T12:16:25.295+01:00Bagpipes and bordersSome people hate the bagpipes. Fair enough.<br />
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But when they tell me this I remind them that in all probability it's the Great Highland Bagpipe they don't like. For all its skirling power to move people to tears or to battle, the GHB is inarguably loud and comes bundled with a lot of military associations that many dislike.<br />
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Bagpipes, I go on, are indigenous to the Middle East, North Africa, the whole of Europe – east and west – and are found as far away as India. With 130 kinds of bagpipe in the world to choose from, why not check out the Bulgarian kaba gaida or the Cretan askomandoura or the Slovakian gajdy? You might find one you like.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZJpKAlZoNq1XKWV_zN_aSBS8xu8U2qMy-NhLYm_QoojBmPoy-Dmr3AILmrlzD-hqDYw5fJJruI1UkF4_tDNtDCvaBuaXmf3qMj8Dlsh53g1fgPaw3D6bDhTzRGz0MPjY5akkZXknvQ9V/s1600/michalis_tsabouna-605x302.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZJpKAlZoNq1XKWV_zN_aSBS8xu8U2qMy-NhLYm_QoojBmPoy-Dmr3AILmrlzD-hqDYw5fJJruI1UkF4_tDNtDCvaBuaXmf3qMj8Dlsh53g1fgPaw3D6bDhTzRGz0MPjY5akkZXknvQ9V/s320/michalis_tsabouna-605x302.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Originating in Antiquity, bagpipes were the Fender Stratocaster of the Middle Ages. Their function has ever been to make people dance, preferably all night and till they drop. As they say in Bulgaria, "a wedding without a bagpipe is like a funeral".<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_P3nYv9E2PaBiajs7kL3gnKwAvbRbwiz2hM4tcBYdyI6EBWwHpS9B_zwO7w73C5NkQ_MoHfhYR5m2TVPE7muDvt7zNNCAj_DcACuCghe3nUcDKzfbLMsKZWX4kj5HdKW8sRWZjQHQ3Kp1/s1600/4390279.f55e3047.640.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_P3nYv9E2PaBiajs7kL3gnKwAvbRbwiz2hM4tcBYdyI6EBWwHpS9B_zwO7w73C5NkQ_MoHfhYR5m2TVPE7muDvt7zNNCAj_DcACuCghe3nUcDKzfbLMsKZWX4kj5HdKW8sRWZjQHQ3Kp1/s320/4390279.f55e3047.640.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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One of the many things I love about playing the bagpipes – in my case, the modern English border pipes – is that this ancient, obscure instrument acts as a kind of passport. I have bagpiping friends across the whole of the UK, but also in France, Germany, Belgium, Galicia, Greece, Estonia, Slovakia, Poland, Romania, Bulgaria, Belarus, Russia and the US. Consequently a warm welcome awaits me pretty much wherever I go.<br />
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We may have little in common. We may not be able to speak the same language. But music, and bagpiping, bring us together in common cause and act as a kind of shared language. Here's one of my tunes, now, let's hear one of yours. Oh I see: <i>that's</i> how you ornament that tune.<br />
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Bagpiping gives me a route straight to the heart of another culture. As pipers we can talk about how life is for us, what matters to us individually and culturally, what makes us tick. How are things in your shoes?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMdA_SvEbj9-C5PmcXFmGLLSH_FQ86DpdKGox6RT96iEmxe_mrpSBqjGbuike9qi3Q0tuBpMt1s12udt82pfh0ZnHDanzde4hpM2yjL93nOFheBa4gk5Z1IqVRwHVR5PtNJakXIkeC215X/s1600/RIA-473779-Preview.jpg.740x-x1.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMdA_SvEbj9-C5PmcXFmGLLSH_FQ86DpdKGox6RT96iEmxe_mrpSBqjGbuike9qi3Q0tuBpMt1s12udt82pfh0ZnHDanzde4hpM2yjL93nOFheBa4gk5Z1IqVRwHVR5PtNJakXIkeC215X/s320/RIA-473779-Preview.jpg.740x-x1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I find this thrilling. I am insatiably curious. The prospect of meeting someone from another culture means opportunity, excitement, and the chance to learn something new.<br />
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Not everyone feels this way. I woke yesterday to discover that my country has voted to turn inwards and leave the EU. It is not the result I wanted.<br />
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I'm not going to launch into a political speech here. I simply want to say in the coming months I fully expect insularity and fear of the Other to become predominant themes in British and European politics. They already are in America. That frightens me.<br />
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Now, more than ever, I think we need to find ways of reaching out across the arbitrary borders we construct around ourselves. That may be through political allegiance, artistic endeavour, religion and spirituality, gender and sexuality, music, or a nerdy interest in the bagpipes. How we do it doesn't matter. We need to find the points of overlap.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbegrPd1QtZ7EDyHYiD7Df1bE8JCwXpJLpsKLr78wb8fgfuVQVuWTdCus30lAMr8fFbyehNk8lIucIVKB8gPU2qe1gn4pP49xztJ_nINyxG9bC7_9tXE9s6MvesDDzD6lz8vkHKQ11x9p2/s1600/-3520cef975d7a591.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbegrPd1QtZ7EDyHYiD7Df1bE8JCwXpJLpsKLr78wb8fgfuVQVuWTdCus30lAMr8fFbyehNk8lIucIVKB8gPU2qe1gn4pP49xztJ_nINyxG9bC7_9tXE9s6MvesDDzD6lz8vkHKQ11x9p2/s320/-3520cef975d7a591.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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If we don't then I fear the hard won lessons of the twentieth century will go unheeded. Choosing certainty over surprise, the world will become a much duller and more scary place.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><hr />
<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-64939952382686801522016-06-21T10:21:00.002+01:002016-06-21T10:21:55.020+01:00The Way of the MorrisMore neatly than marmite, bagpipes or the EU referendum, the question of Morris dancing divides the nation. For many it is, as folk musician Chris Wood puts it, the thing you cross the road to avoid. I've always been rather fond of it.<br />
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I like the formal Cotswold style, with its bells and hankies, but I especially like Border Morris, originating in the Welsh-English borders, with its tattered clothes, be-feathered top hats, clacking sticks and general scary demeanour. I'll stop and watch dancers of all kinds if I see them in the streets.<br />
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Much folklore has accrued around the subject of Morris dancing, especially to do with its supposed origins in an ancient pagan fertility cult. The fertility theory seems pretty implausible when you watch some of the, ahem, less virile sides splutter and wheeze their way through a dance, and in fact, Morris dancing began life in the Tudor Court, perhaps mimicking 'Moorish spectacles' in Spain.<br />
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From there it spread to the streets where it remains to this day. The top hats and the feathers are two-fingers raised to the aristocracy. We'll wear your fine clothes and we'll poach your pheasants while we're about it.<br />
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For many now Morris dancing is a fun and social activity, one that gets you out and keeps you active. But the notion that Morris dancing has pagan origins has implicitly, and sometimes explicitly, inspired many of today's sides. Meanings change. Who knows whether Morris dancers of yore danced the sun up on May 1st, but they do now, and that has a rightness to it.<br />
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These themes were touched on beautifully in the documentary, <i>The Way of the Morris</i>, and if you're a waverer, I strongly recommend you watch it.<br />
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There is, of course, the vexed question of whether in a multi-cultural society it's acceptable for Morris dancers to blacken their faces. I've hummed and hawed about this but am of the firm belief there's no case to answer because it has absolutely nothing to do with 'blacking up'.<br />
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Irrespective of the historical justifications that are offered for the practice, it's all about intention.<br />
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Dressing up as a 'Black and White Minstrel' or to ape and lampoon an ethnic minority in any way is offensive and objectionable. If that's what Morris dancers did, I would be their fiercest critic.<br />
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But spend five minutes watching them and you'll see that the blackened faces have nothing to do with parody and everything to do with mask, with ritual, and with temporarily leaving the humdrum world behind.<br />
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Our local Dartmoor side, Beltane Morris, paint their faces because when they dance they embody the ravens who call the Moor home. Theirs is a bit of homegrown theriomorphism.<br />
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When the Seven Champions Molly dancers raise their hands to the sky, it is as if they are summoning up the spirit of the corn itself (Molly dancing is the East Anglian tradition). The effect is otherworldly and mesmerising.<br />
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And as if to hammer the point home, the Wild Hunt Border Morris actually wear masks.<br />
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If you watch one of the better sides dance until the spirit seems to grip hold of them, you realise that something odd and intangible is happening. Pagan or not, the Morris has become some kind of implicit folk ritual, a rite that allows something in and through, something that touches and transforms us, that connects our feet to the soil just as surely as it raises the hairs on the back of the neck.<br />
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You may feel that Morris dancing has nothing for you. I urge you to look again.<br />
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It's what we have.<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-57793261246688135282016-06-15T20:32:00.000+01:002016-06-15T20:54:08.621+01:00Shroom: ten years onI find it hard to believe but it's exactly ten years since my book <i>Shroom: A Cultural History of the Magic Mushroom</i> was published. Though the occasional sentence makes me wince, and I blush at the florid dedication to now ex-partner, I remain immensely proud of it. It picked up some great reviews, not least from the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2007/06/03/books/review/Teresi-t.html?_r=0" target="_blank">New York Times</a>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">UK paperback version of Shroom: A Cultural History of the Magic Mushroom by Andy Letcher</td></tr>
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Like any book, it has its weaknesses. I was wrong about John Allegro, author of <i>The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross</i>, who argued that Christianity originated in a fly-agaric cult. Taking my lead from a letter by Robert Graves I assumed he was, as Graves put it, "nuts". He wasn't, and he genuinely hoped his theory would achieve academic recognition. While that doesn't affect my conclusion that his theory is wildly implausible, I'm sorry I questioned his sanity.<br />
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And my coverage of magic mushrooms in America during the 60s and 70s was too thin. Limited funds meant I didn't have the resources to travel to meet the movers and shakers from that time, and the social networking revolution, which would've meant I didn't have to, only really took off after the book was published. I hope that some later scholar will do them and the period justice.<br />
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I'm sure there are others.<br />
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I always hoped that the book would have a long shelf-life, and it seems that interest in the book is gaining momentum once again. I would imagine that's to do with a new generation of psychedelic millennials seeking to know more about the history of their interests and enthusiasms. I still get fan mail…<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fan mail for Shroom: A Cultural History of the Magic Mushroom by Andy Letcher</td></tr>
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…though if you read some of the reviews on Amazon, you'd think I'm the devil incarnate. If one reviewer is to be believed, I saved someone them undergoing unnecessary gender-reassignment surgery (which I think is meant as some kind of satire, though the point of it is lost on me), and most incredibly of all I have been cast – let's be polite and say by certain 'conspiracy theorists' – as virulently anti-psychedelic. This came as quite a shock!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conspiracy theorists attack Shroom: A Cultural History of the Magic Mushroom by Andy Letcher</td></tr>
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I prefer to let people read between the lines rather than spelling everything out in red letters, but for the record my stance has always been pro the judicious use of psychedelics (and I would have thought that was obvious to anyone who's actually read the book). However, I've never understood why being pro-psychedelics requires the abrogation of reason, and if psychedelia truly wants to come in from the cold, as I believe it must, then it has to subject itself to some critical self-examination.</div>
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The desire to see the world as it is and not how we would wish it to be lies as much behind the psychedelic quest as it does the academic project. My hope was that by placing the history of the magic mushroom on firmer foundations, it would grant the subject more, not less, credibility, at least in the eyes of those with the actual power to change things. The fact that psychedelic studies seems to be returning inexorably to the academy suggests there are many others who agree.</div>
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So, yes, <i>Shroom</i> is an academic book masquerading as a popular read but it's certainly not a work of scientism, attempting to pour scorn on the wilder imaginings of the psilocybin flash. After all, it's the refusal of the trip ever to accept closure of meaning that makes it so damned interesting.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">US paperback version of Shroom: A Cultural History of the Magic Mushroom</td></tr>
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Fans of the book may like to know that I am writing again on the subject of magic mushrooms, as I always intended to do, only this time in a more writerly and autobiographical way, and without recourse to the footnote. Shroom took two years to research and write, working full time. Now that I can only snatch an hour or so here and there, this next book may take a little longer, so watch this space.</div>
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But in the meantime, I'd like to thank all those of you that bought the book and the many who've written to me to say how much they enjoyed it.</div>
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And if you haven't read it yet, why not treat yourself to a copy?</div>
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-67994041858225076592016-06-13T12:18:00.000+01:002016-06-14T10:33:10.268+01:00The Green Scythe Fair<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Rumours that the <a href="http://www.greenfair.org.uk/" target="_blank">Green Scythe Fair</a> has lost its edge have been greatly exaggerated. You'll be hard pressed to find a more bucolic and delightful English Country Fair. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Competitor at the Green Scythe Fair, Muchelney, Somerset 2016</td></tr>
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Held near Muchelney on the Somerset levels, this is a day for lovers of the billhook and mattock, the hand-drill and the bow-saw, the hurdle and the pitch-fork. There are so many wood-turners, beekeepers, thatchers, bodgers and small-holders, it's as if the pages of John Seymour's <i>Complete Book of Self-Sufficiency</i> have exploded mysteriously into life. </div>
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This is a celebration of the rule of thumb, the fat of the land, the acre over the hectare; of a life lived deosil, by the turning of the sun. Only the drunken auctioning-off of a wife could make it more Hardy-esque.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Selection of billhooks for sale at the Green Scythe Fair</td></tr>
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Ruddy farmers raise pints of cloudy scrumpy to banging bluegrass then sleep off their hangovers under a hay-rick. Children run riot in stooks that have been freshly mown from the meadow (scythed, of course). </div>
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There's country-dancing, and tipsy fiddlers leading improvised sessions.</div>
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And this being England, there are torrential showers that send everyone sprinting for the nearest shelter. The opportunistic take the chance to grab a sneaky organic wild-boar burger.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sheltering from the rain at the Green Scythe Fair, Muchelney, Somerset 2016</td></tr>
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This is a country fair with a twist though, for it lies just outside the Glastonbury Zodiac and so draws in the hippies and the crusties and the travellers who live within its green folds. They come in their converted transit vans, and even a barrel-topped vardo, to smoke surreptitious spliffs and get bongled on cider. So, a chance to catch up with old friends then. </div>
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But whoever comes and whatever their reason for doing so, the scythe remains centre-stage. </div>
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The festival rings around a lush meadow where scything competitions are held throughout the day. Scythers take on electric strimmers, compete with each other against the clock, or for precision of cut, or to see who can toss the most hay over a high wall. No joke, this isn't some elaborate variant on welly-boot throwing or blat-the-rat. Ripped men with calloused hands, tanned backs and Tolstoy's beard travel from all over Europe to compete. Women too, though not so many. </div>
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They all come to talk blades and whetstones, to compare the traditional English scythe with its leaner continental cousin, to plot long-overdue land reform and to share notes on how to get the self-build past the planners. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Car-parking for scythers at the Green Scythe Fair, Muchelney, Somerset 2016</td></tr>
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In doing so, they are returning the word 'radical' to its original meaning: 'of the roots'. For all its olde worlde charm, this is a radical festival. With every measured sweep of the blade this new peasantry is cutting at the bloated excesses of modern agribusiness. They seek to return us to the soil. </div>
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Remember the land, they say. Remember where your food comes from. Remember the hands that toiled for you.</div>
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Theirs is a pitchfork revolution and one day, I hope, it will prove unstoppable.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scyther at the Green Scythe festival, Muchelney, Somerset 2016 </td></tr>
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-25070201665703746562016-05-24T19:36:00.000+01:002016-05-24T19:36:04.042+01:00Towards a sustainable musicOver the Christmas period I made one of the hardest decisions I've had to face and I chose to leave both my treasured bands, Wod and Telling the Bees. The tensions and contradictions between raising a family in Devon and playing in bands in Oxford forced me to a decision, and when put in those stark terms – family or band – there was only one way I could go. Parents everywhere will share my pain.<br />
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Romantic to the core, I've never played music for money, but I can't deny that the need to earn money was a factor in my decision. At best I'd say that over the last three years, if I tote up all the unpaid hours of rehearsal, travel, emailing, phone calls, website maintenance and admin, I've probably broken even. A well-received third album and appearing on the front cover of fRoots did not translate into ready cash.<br />
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Parenthood makes you reevaluate all manner of things you previously took for granted. It becomes hard to justify what amounts to an expensive and time-consuming hobby.<br />
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But, why does it have to be like this? Since making the decision, I've been thinking a lot about the question of music and sustainability, and whether they are remotely compatible. I'm not sure I have any concrete answers yet, which is why I'm posting here.<br />
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<a href="http://www.bloodyloud.com/how-the-internet-has-rocked-the-music-industry-infographic/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBOWp8LYCl91YuFrXml0OXFyZPvUBB3kd9mDOy3lJEQpuxOBbeyyVrQtzpd_-FKGsMtyjgn8iw5QT2fQUXkZh0EtACkrX9V1Zg01qak7XtfTp3X3O7M7d0vNETRNrAbpDd0r4y92ZJu5Yv/s320/Death-of-an-Industry-top-bl.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Music is unsustainable in a number of ways. There is the obvious fact that the rightly-named music industry manufactures <i>stuff</i>: vinyl, cassettes, CDs, synths, DI boxes, miles of cables, PA systems, mixing desks, recording gear, iPods, headphones, t-shirts etc etc. All of it is ultimately destined for landfill (remember minidisc?). Every Youtube play releases a puff of carbon dioxide into our overheated atmosphere. However much our cherished musical heroes espouse radicalism, Western popular music-making is inescapably a product of late capitalism, with all that implies.<br />
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Then it is unsustainable in terms of the human cost. Those artists that do now achieve national or even international success tend to be young and hungry for fame. They'll do anything the record companies say because they're all holding out for the golden ticket, the crock of gold at the end of the rainbow. Fame and fortune. Little do they know that they are just expendable commodities. Most don't last beyond a second album, and such are the expenses involved in propelling them to their brief moment of stardom, that when they're inevitably dropped by their labels, they're left with nothing but a coke habit and a badly distorted sense of self-importance. It's established fact that musicians die young, and rates of mental illness amongst musicians are disproportionately high.<br />
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And finally, it's unsustainable in terms of the fact that it is now virtually impossible for musicians to earn a living from playing music. Just the other day I heard of a successful metal band who have set up a fish farm to fund their musical activities. I had a salutary conversation with a friend of mine who plays in a very successful band, signed to a major label. Five albums in and she's received about £200 from CD sales. That's not going to buy her a house anytime soon, so, like her bandmates, she has a job. Meanwhile, the promoters get paid, the manager gets paid, the sound guy gets paid, the venue gets paid, but last on the list come the musicians, without whom none of this would be possible.<br />
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I worry about all three of these points of sustainability, but obviously my most pressing concern is with the third, of how to make a living from music. It feeds into the wider question of how and whether we value art.<br />
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Now, I'm not one of those people who think that just because I can play an instrument to a reasonable level of competency, the world owes me a living. Far from it, which is why I've always had jobs and done that juggling act of working just enough to put bread on the table, but not so much as there's no time to dream. But neither do I agree with the Right, that Art's worth can be measured by how much money it earns. Many would agree that the world would be a poorer place without psychedelic folk but its net contribution to GDP is laughable.<br />
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As Brian Eno pointed out in his recent John Peel lecture, in rock's heyday the record companies controlled the production of music and so limited its supply. Now, the digital revolution means that anyone can record and release music online. There has never been more music nor less incentive to buy. I no longer have to take the risk of purchasing an album to see if I like it – I can check it out on Youtube or Soundcloud first. Amazon, iTunes, Spotify and Youtube cream off most of the profit from streaming and sales, delivering pence and sometimes fractions of pence to the content providers. It's an irony that the very technology that allowed me to record and release three albums has also contributed to the erosion of music as a living.<br />
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I believe strongly that music is a necessity not a luxury. The demise of so many musical greats this year has demonstrated to me at least, that pop music can create not just idols, but shaman-like figures who help us negotiate our way through life and death. Think of the effect that Bowie's Blackstar unleashed. But if it's a necessity, how do we pay for it?<br />
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Music doesn't just appear ex nihilo but demands hours of practice, jamming, noodling and frankly, staring into the middle distance doing not very much at all. It used to be the case that you could just sign-on, as Eno did. No longer. If you're not generating income, even though that be in a dead-end minimum wage, zero-hours contract McJob, then you are a scrounger and a sponger.<br />
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So what's the answer? The luddite in me would like to see a return to a bardic model, where musicians travel locally, from one warm welcome to the next, performing in people's homes, or village halls, or in a tent they bring with them. It was the model that obtained in medieval Wales (you can't say I'm never topical), and that's been revived very successfully by theatre company <a href="http://www.horseandbamboo.org/" target="_blank">Horse and Bamboo</a>, and <a href="http://www.giffordscircus.com/" target="_blank">Giffords Circus</a>. Beyond the obvious objections – we can't all hit the road, even if we wanted to; we mostly live in cities, not villages – it's hard to see it working for music, simply because there is so much music. People make the effort to go and see the circus precisely because it only comes once a year.<br />
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Musicians could increase the value of what they do by stopping recording altogether, thus imposing self-imposed limits on the supply of their music. Live music would be at a premium. But this would only work if everyone did it, and I can't see that happening. In any case, it's so easy for anyone to bootleg recordings on their phones that it's a non-starter.<br />
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Another possibility is that artists simply seek patronage from their fans, that they place donation buttons on their website and hope that sufficiently large number of people feel moved to contribute. Apart from the fact that asking for money is agonisingly unEnglish, it begs the question of how unknown artists can ever get a profile big enough to receive sufficient patronage. Nevertheless, this might be the only answer.<br />
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In writing this article I've just come across <a href="http://fairtrademusicafm.org/about/" target="_blank">Fair Trade Music</a>, which is a Portland-based pressure group that seeks to endorse venues that treat their musicians properly and pay them fairly. This is what the Musician's Union used to do (sadly, I never earned enough to justify the membership), but it would be great if this took off here in the UK too.<br />
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But perhaps we need a sea change in culture, where art and artists come to be valued once again. When I played in Brittany last year, before every gig a table was laid out with food and wine, with enough time to enjoy them both leisurely before the gig. In France that's considered normal. Here, you're lucky if you get a free drink.<br />
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One of the simplest ways we could change culture would be to introduce rent-controls, as they do in Germany. In one fell swoop we'd rid the world of letting-agents, remove the stigma on renting, and give artists the space they need to create. But with the pension hopes of so many bound up in buy-to-let, I doubt I'll see this in my lifetime.<br />
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So I'm baffled really. I'm writing songs. There's albums that I want to record. But right now unless we do find new models, I doubt I'll get to make them. However much I love being a Dad (and it is bloody great!), I do feel sad about that.<br />
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Answers on a postcard please!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><hr />
<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-4301564543403403452016-05-17T21:08:00.004+01:002016-05-17T21:10:54.820+01:00Spiegel OnlineThis very blog got cited in the German magazine <a href="http://www.spiegel.de/wissenschaft/mensch/tatort-aus-muenster-fliegenpilz-droehnung-durch-urin-a-1091032.html" target="_blank">Spiegel Online</a>.<br />
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It seems I am now an expert on fly agarics and reindeer piss, so perhaps my time has come.</div>
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-39049455514539651922016-03-11T09:17:00.000+00:002016-03-16T11:57:42.057+00:00On the Liberty Cap - your help needed!I'm just embarking on a new piece of research about the Liberty Cap, <i>Psilocybe semilanceata</i>. I hope it will be published next year. However, I need your help. If the Liberty Cap is or has been a part of your life, I'd love to hear from you, wherever you are in the world.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4oJ-eNBHn81VyToOUc_f2shsJPpq1xox6-QPd6f77mWqkiak8CZ37fyzv06lwvJWwmokOhjB1xDCT8C9g13tfN0xXR9P_dWWQl_fsHry9JmY8stNpm2E4gC2STFF9a72u-q56bEYiz9XQ/s1600/Liberty+Sculpture+Analog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4oJ-eNBHn81VyToOUc_f2shsJPpq1xox6-QPd6f77mWqkiak8CZ37fyzv06lwvJWwmokOhjB1xDCT8C9g13tfN0xXR9P_dWWQl_fsHry9JmY8stNpm2E4gC2STFF9a72u-q56bEYiz9XQ/s320/Liberty+Sculpture+Analog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I want to know how you use the mushroom. I'm less interested in hearing trip reports (let's face it, there's no shortage of these online) and more interested in the context. Do you take Liberty Caps recreationally, to have a "weird trippy time with your friends", as someone put it to me? Do you go clubbing, or take them at festivals, or down the pub? Do you take them in nature or in reverential settings, such as a shamanistic or a neo-pagan ritual, for example? Do you do it alone? Do you eat while you pick? Do you microdose, or go for the full McKenna? Do you play or listen to music, and if so, what kind? Do you consume them during the day or at night? Do you have sex under the influence?</div>
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I'm also interested in how you obtain them. If you go picking, is this a sacred act or something more prosaic? Have you ever had any run-ins with the Law or with irate farmers?</div>
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And finally, many people say that Liberty Caps connect them in some way with the natural world. Is this true for you and if so, what do you mean by nature – the city park, or the unkempt wilderness?<br />
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I'm not conducting this research scientifically, or doing any kind of rigorous survey. I'm trying to get a feel for what's going on out there, beyond the immediate context of my acquaintances. I don't think anyone has attempted this before. There's a mushroom revolution that happens every autumn, but it's going on in the shadows. I'd like to bring it into the light of day.<br />
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I can guarantee anonymity. I won't share your contact details with anyone, and if I use any reports in my writing I'll be sure to change your name. The chances are that I'll blend reports into composites. This isn't an academic piece of work I'm doing, but something (I hope!) will be more literary.<br />
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Fascinating as the other mushroom species are, I only want to hear about Liberty Caps for now, so please don't send info about wavy caps, <i>cubensis</i>, fly agaric etc etc.<br />
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If you'd like to get in touch, you can email me at: info at andy letcher dot co dot uk<br />
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Please put 'Liberty Cap' in the subject line, and do please let me know what country you're writing from.<br />
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And thanks for your time.<br />
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PS If you'd like a little more structure/guidance, then pick one experience with Liberty Caps, and answer the following:<br />
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Where were you (roughly, I don't need the exact spot - ie the Lake District, UK)?<br />
Were you alone or with a group (any detail helpful)?<br />
How many did you take?<br />
Were you indoors or out?<br />
Was it day or night?<br />
What was the context (recreational, party, rave, ritual, etc - again, detail helpful)?<br />
What did you make of your experience?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><hr />
<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-37387419091452963282016-01-13T14:29:00.001+00:002016-01-13T14:29:26.025+00:00Voice of the PeopleYesterday, I was lucky enough to be invited up to Broadcasting House, in London, to take part in a forthcoming documentary on Radio 3, about folk-song collecting, past and present.<br />
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I was there to talk about how the early collectors, like Cecil Sharp, were labouring under the idea that rural folk cultures were, in some sense, pagan, or had preserved aspects of an ancient fertility religion in their seasonal calendar of folk customs. That idea has collapsed, but it remained so pervasive during the twentieth century that it inspired all manner of bands, revived folk customs, and other manifestations of popular culture (not least, <i>The Wicker Man</i>).<br />
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I had a lot of fun, especially getting to meet various folk musicians and collectors, and I loved watching a radio programme being made.<br />
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The programme, <i>Voice of the People</i>, is hosted by Verity Sharp, and will be broadcast on January 30th 2016 as part of a weekend devoted to folk music.<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-34865093529931741832015-09-09T21:31:00.000+01:002015-09-09T21:31:31.095+01:00Telling the Bees: Steer by the Stars, fRoots and TourIt's been a busy year for Telling the Bees. Our new album, <i>Steer by the Stars</i>, came out in May and has been garnering some great reviews. If you haven't heard it, you can check it out on our Bandcamp page.<br />
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<iframe align="center" seamless="" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=110080273/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=0687f5/tracklist=false/transparent=true/" style="border: 0; height: 470px; width: 350px;"><a href="http://tellingthebees.bandcamp.com/album/steer-by-the-stars">Steer by the Stars by Telling the Bees</a></iframe>
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Then, we're being featured on the front cover of the September issue of fRoots magazine.<br />
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And finally, we're going on a mini-tour in October and November. Do come and see us, and check out the <a href="http://tellingthebees.co.uk/" target="_blank">website</a> for more dates.</div>
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-21954901804566578582015-06-26T06:58:00.000+01:002015-06-26T06:58:05.266+01:00PiltoncholiaPiltoncholia: the feeling of misery that ensues when you're not at Glastonbury Festival (for those who may not know, Glastonbury Festival isn't in Glastonbury at all, but right next to the long-suffering village of Pilton. Which is why locals refer to it as the Pilton Village Fete. None of which is any comfort whatsoever).<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-52390938928400881432015-06-20T19:54:00.001+01:002015-06-20T19:54:38.744+01:00Solstice eve<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Having a toddler has rather put paid to any all night summer solstice shenanigans. When uninterrupted sleep is the norm, the idea of willingly staying up all night rapidly loses its appeal. So we went for a solstice eve walk to find the newly discovered stone circle at Sittaford Tor on Dartmoor.</div>
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I say newly discovered for that's how the <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/science/2015/may/11/highest-stone-circle-in-southern-england-found-on-dartmoor" target="_blank">papers reported it</a>, but in fact it's been known about for years. What's new is that it's been excavated and dated and proven to be the real, Bronze Age deal. And what's unusual about it is that Victorian antiquarians never got their hands on it, so it remains 'unrestored'. </div>
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All the stones lie where they've fallen, looking like the marks of a sundial, set to measure millennia. </div>
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In fact, many of the stones had succumbed to the weight of time and were sunken into the peat. They've only just been unburied. Protection from the elements or perhaps the acidity of the soil have given them a ghostly white appearance. They look like bleached bones.</div>
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One of the stones has been hoiked out of the circle and used in a wall. It's a handy marker for without it, the circle would be easy to miss. It's hidden by thick tussocks and fluffy tufts of cotton grass. </div>
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When built it would have been one of the largest stone circles on the moor and I suppose regularly filled with people. Now, on a windy afternoon, with the mist rolling in – the traditional midsummer weather – it feels pretty bleak. </div>
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On the way back we stopped at Fernworthy stone circle, set much lower down, and now surrounded by the trees of a modern plantation. It has a slightly spooky feel.</div>
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Minka was unfazed. At first she wanted to touch the stones and scramble upon them.</div>
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Then, unbidden, she went round every one, giving each a hug. I felt a surge of druidic pride.<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-67016961439667104792015-04-04T19:45:00.000+01:002015-04-04T19:45:08.269+01:00Einar SelvikEinar Selvik is a skald and the founder of the Norwegian band <a href="http://www.wardruna.com/" target="_blank">Wardruna</a>. Anyone who's been enjoying <i>The Vikings</i> will have heard his music as it features heavily in the series. It's spine-tinglingly good.<br />
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Here's a talk given by Selvik at the Dutch Archaeon festival. I particularly like what he has to say about tradition and the need for music to have something greater behind it.
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-76995023901148316682015-02-05T14:51:00.000+00:002015-02-05T14:51:52.136+00:00The Will of the Way Things AreAs regular readers will know, I am a long term <b>Gong</b> fan. It's therefore with great sadness that I learned today that Daevid Allen, who has been fighting cancer, has been given six months to live. But, oh my, here's a sobering and exemplary attitude to death. His letter, breaking the news, is copied from the <a href="http://www.planetgong.co.uk/" target="_blank">Planet Gong</a> website:<br />
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<i>Hello you Kookaburras, </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>OK so I have had my PET-CAT scans (which is essentially a full body viewing gallery for cancer specialists) and so it is now confirmed that the invading cancer has returned to successfully establish dominant residency in my neck. The original surgery took much of it out, but the cancer has now recreated itself with renewed vigor while also spreading to my lung.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The cancer is now so well established that I have now been given approximately six months to live.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>So My view has Changed: </i><br />
<i>I am not interested in endless surgical operations and in fact it has come as a relief to know that the end is in sight.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I am a great believer in "The Will of the Way Things Are" and I also believe that the time has come to stop resisting and denying and to surrender to the way it is.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I can only hope that during this journey, I have somehow contributed to the happiness in the lives of a few other fellow humans.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I believe I have done my best to heal, dear friends and that you have been enormously helpful in supporting me through this time</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>So Thank you SO much for being there with me, for the Ocean of Love </i><br />
<i>and Now, importantly, Thankyou for starting the process of letting go of me, of mourning then transforming and celebrating this death coming up - this is how you can contribute, this would be a great gift from those emotionally and spiritually involved with me. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I love you and will be with you always - Daevid xxx -</i><div class="blogger-post-footer"><hr />
<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-15797270198023694332015-02-04T19:39:00.000+00:002015-02-05T11:18:03.152+00:00Raga KapiHere are some videos of South Indian, Carnatic music. They're taken from a concert in London and feature <b>Jayanthi Kumaresh</b> and <b>Patri Satish Kumar</b>, who I think have become instantly two of my favourite musicians.<br />
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Kumaresh plays the saraswati veena, an ancient and now endangered instrument, said to have been played by the Hindu goddess of the arts, Saraswati. Kumar plays mridangam, the double-headed drum, the sounds of which form a prayer, or mantra, to Shiva Nataraja. Support, on the tampura drone, comes from <b>Mithila Sarma</b>. The chemistry and sympathy between the musicians is extraordinary, and I'm struck by how rare it is in the West to see a woman playing an instrument with such artistry, composure and humility, without men somehow <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/jan/31/sophie-heawood-bjork-men-stealing-spotlight" target="_blank">stealing the spotlight</a>.<br />
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Raga Kapi is introduced with an alapana section in the first video, followed by the thillana in the second. This is played in adi tala, an eight-beat cycle – if you can, try keeping time with hand claps (clap-pinky-ring-middle, clap-wave-clap-wave) – it will make the climax even more breathtaking. The final video is a short but illuminating interview with Kumar.<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-69515541086529478572015-01-20T16:21:00.000+00:002015-01-20T16:21:58.810+00:00HexagonismI've always found there to be something deeply pleasing about the hexagon, its sixness, its symmetry, the way it falls from a circle or an equilateral triangle, and of course its relationship to bees.<br />
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I was delighted, therefore, to learn that scientists have discovered that the whirling vortices of gases at the north pole of Saturn describe a nearly perfect, and permanent, hexagon. How beautiful is that?</div>
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It seems I am not alone in my love of all thing hexagonal for I've also stumbled upon the eccentrically wonderful <a href="http://hexnet.org/">hexnet.org</a>. As the author states, 'I found myself, seemingly out of nowhere, really fucking interested in hexagons', a position to which I can only nod in agreement.</div>
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-49885611659658014142014-12-21T20:42:00.000+00:002014-12-21T20:42:39.127+00:00Winter solstice 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-57405381997331481392014-12-05T18:43:00.000+00:002014-12-05T18:43:07.922+00:00On BrentorThe South West of England possesses three dramatic tors, each topped by a church or the ruins of a church. Glastonbury Tor is the most famous, and justly so, followed by its near neighbour Burrow Mump, also in Somerset: you can see the one from the other. The third lies much further to south and west in Devon, and, situated right on the edge of Dartmoor, is the least visited of the three. It is called Brentor.<br />
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Clamber up to the rocky summit and you're rewarded with dramatic views of the moor (and, when we went, the rising moon).<br />
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Oddly for a working church, the porch is covered in graffiti, some of it quite old.<br />
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The church is dedicated to St Michael, as were the ruins at Glastonbury and Burrow Mump, and as so many high places have shrines dedicated to the saint, some have speculated that this was a concerted effort by the Church to put a stop to lingering pagan practices (St Michael famously stands triumphant over Satan).<br />
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The fact that you can draw a straight line between Glastonbury Tor, Burrow Mump and Brentor, and, moreover, one that points in the direction of the May Day sunrise, struck the writer John Michell as more than coincidental. As I've <a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk/2013_08_01_archive.html" target="_blank">blogged about before</a>, he posited that here was a major ley-line, a piece of pre-Christian technology if you will, that directed earth energy up country towards a harmonious end. </div>
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Whatever the metaphors we choose to describe it, I think high places like Brentor have always been regarded as holy, long before there were either Christians or ley-hunters. Just as we can't help but let our minds reach out with wonder to the horizon, so some part of us, a part that longs to touch that which lies beyond, relaxes and unwinds.<br />
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Craggy, desolate, a little bit haunted, Brentor remains a numinous place.<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-40994473325171341062014-12-01T10:50:00.001+00:002014-12-01T14:08:54.720+00:00Revels and wrensAnd so to Ludlow Castle to play bagpipes at its Medieval Christmas Fayre.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNwnZLsRlvy1xrO_Jc2r7X6o9hvQir8y4Zar6XnodsI2nzGP6DYV64E17L0Fhx1NLBRYFH06zHUT5vqFBtCb84AIhvCmF32-9G5VczV7BRlOu-KZIBm-5AfMfovCpvSHVDf57QkypEAFv/s1600/Ludlow-castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNwnZLsRlvy1xrO_Jc2r7X6o9hvQir8y4Zar6XnodsI2nzGP6DYV64E17L0Fhx1NLBRYFH06zHUT5vqFBtCb84AIhvCmF32-9G5VczV7BRlOu-KZIBm-5AfMfovCpvSHVDf57QkypEAFv/s1600/Ludlow-castle.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Joolz Webb</td></tr>
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I was invited once again by Paul Saunders to join Revellion, a kind of medieval costume band supergroup. It's a fantastic chance to dress up, play raucous tunes and make bad puns with old friends.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8l9c0LfOkpigWc5WuDE1B8mCN5E97jdobK6vmUJV5M9KV6I4dW1za13iVDV-szd8auQa21JUhaY85VA8o9cIovO61wqUUcTa0H8-a9tNXyQobrfL-HunO3C0fSbe1lVlIMGyYNkQ76r7V/s1600/Nonima.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8l9c0LfOkpigWc5WuDE1B8mCN5E97jdobK6vmUJV5M9KV6I4dW1za13iVDV-szd8auQa21JUhaY85VA8o9cIovO61wqUUcTa0H8-a9tNXyQobrfL-HunO3C0fSbe1lVlIMGyYNkQ76r7V/s1600/Nonima.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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There's always lots to look at…</div>
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…but I was especially delighted to get another chance to see Alan Kirkpatrick's <b>No Strings Puppet Theatre</b> again, after a gap of a good many years.</div>
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Delivered with Goonish energy and a characteristic dry wit, his portative hand-puppet version of 'Robin Hood and the Monk' wouldn't be out of place in a Terry Gilliam movie.</div>
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But my meeting of the weekend was with a man who said he could call wrens to his hand. "How do you do that?" I asked. "Oh", he said, "I speak wren" and with that he started to whistle. It wasn't the moment to whip out my phone and record him so you'll just have to take my word for it that his rendition was perfect. I was dumbfounded.<br />
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The conversation moved onto robins. "Nah, I can't speak robin. Aggressive little buggers."<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-47827091596122798102014-11-12T20:56:00.001+00:002014-11-12T20:56:27.106+00:00On walking with plantsRecently a post appeared on one of the Facebook groups I follow, wondering why it is that ayahuasca, an hallucinogen from "another very distant culture" has become so popular in Europe. There is, it went on, "virtually no evidence for any such substances having been used by native spirit workers to achieve altered states of consciousness. The Native European tradition seems to have been similar to that of Siberia, where you were regarded as a pretty poor shaman if you needed drugs to get you into an altered state in order to do your job".<br />
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Needless to say, the post prompted a lot of debate. Many agreed with the author, adding that the use of hallucinogens in shamanism was certainly a shortcut, a kind of cheating we should all frown upon. Some defended it, pointing to the plethora of psychoactive plants in our indigenous flora and the possible lines of evidence for prehistoric usage, while others pointed to the pressure that entheotourism exerts on indigenous cultures and ecologies.<br />
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I suppose a glib reply would be that having borrowed (or appropriated – take your pick) rattles, drums, power animals, journeying, sweat lodges, tipis, animal chants, soul-retrieval, tobacco-offerings, animism, dream-catchers, medicine-wheels, tracking, pain ordeals, vision-quests and smudging, why draw the line at power plants?<br />
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More seriously, with the notable, and perhaps uncomfortable, exception of opium, for which there is evidence of an unbroken chain of usage stretching back to the Neolithic, the post's author is right in saying there is little evidence for such substances being used in European prehistory. More correctly, there is a yawning absence of evidence, for or against, such that we are free to imagine the ancient past as drug-free or drug-filled according to taste.<br />
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When I was writing <i>Shroom</i>, I concluded that indigenous psychoactive plants, but particularly psilocybin mushrooms, had played little part in British prehistoric religion. In the ten years since, I've revised my position and I now think it inconceivable that no one ever tripped intentionally until modernity, such are the timescales involved. It's just that they left no trace of their having done so.<br />
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Be that as it may, we must be careful not to impose our modern Western notions onto people distant in space and time. The idea, common to many indigenous cultures, of plants as other-than-human persons, or teachers even, with whom one must forge a respectful relationship, has little to do with our typically pejorative discourses surrounding 'drugs' and 'drug-abuse'. Likewise we should remember that the term 'shamanism' is itself a Western construct, applied to the many cultural practices around the world that we, in our wisdom, have deemed similar enough to be worthy of the name. If we must use the term, and surely we are stuck with it, the best we can do is speak of many shamanisms. The idea that there was or is an original 'pure' shamanism from which others are ersatz and degenerate copies is untenable (not that that's stopped Western scholars and writers from repeatedly making that judgement).<br />
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Is a Native American Church peyote ceremony less shamanistic than a Neo-Pagan sweat-lodge simply by virtue of its using a teacher plant? Is a modern Druid smudging themselves with mugwort the more authentic for not inhaling? To answer yes is to do violence yet again to indigenous worldviews, to judge them by our own implicit, yet questionable, moral standards and to fail to listen to what they might have to teach us.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Speaking as someone who </span><i style="text-align: center;">has</i><span style="text-align: center;"> walked and worked with teacher plants, I can attest that to do so is not a shortcut to anything. It is its own path (though if the numbers of attendees of events like Breaking Convention and Kew's Intoxication season are to go by, one that is increasingly popular). </span><br />
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There is always a danger of sanctimony in these kinds of debates, a risk that we remain mired in that ugly kind of Protestant self-regard where piety, as an ostentatious form of work, is taken as an outward measure of inner spiritual capital. But I would say this, that walking with teacher plants is far from easy. Their purgative effects can be punishing on the body, while they are nothing if not existentially and ontologically challenging. Many cultures regard the experience as something of a moral interrogation, where one is forced to review one's actions and their consequences from the standpoint of others. One's failings are typically brought to the fore. Perhaps that's why the path tends to be self-selecting.<br />
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I am quite sure that traditional, indigenous shamanisms, have always been rife with envy and competitiveness (not to mention sorcery and bad mojo, though that's another story). Surely, it's time we moved beyond such mundane human concerns because time seems in very short supply right now. The appeal of the many shamanisms to the West at this moment is that their varied techniques seem to offer a profound way with which to reconnect both with the other-than-human world and the parts of the self from which the mad march of modernity has sundered us. If this is so, and it is my profound hope that it is , then all shamanisms of all kinds have their part to play. We should judge them by their results and not their methods.<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-81589025914213591702014-11-11T16:05:00.000+00:002014-11-11T16:38:13.524+00:00Seven-league bootsIn what's like a curse from some forgotten fairy-tale, I seem quite unable to find a pair of shoes that fit. My feet are narrow to the point of girliness, and slightly different lengths, such that they deviate wildly from the average size 9 to which they're supposed to conform. While I can always get one shoe to fit perfectly, the other crushes my toes, bruises my arch and sends sciatic pains up my leg. Perhaps I was unkind to a cobbler in a previous life? A poorly-fitting pair of shoes brings quiet misery.<br />
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Well, I've finally given in to common sense and had a pair of boots made to measure and while my purse took a hit, the knowledge that I shall stride through the next ten years stoutly shod puts a spring in my step and knocks such paltry concerns to one side. In any case, I like to support the artisan where I can.<br />
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I went to a local Devon company, <a href="http://www.greenshoes.co.uk/" target="_blank">Green Shoes</a>, and I can't recommend them highly enough. As a local this meant I could drop in to get my feet measured in person, and they gave me not one but two fittings. When it transpired that the left shoe was, indeed, too tight, they took it away and resoled it without hesitation. It was a very different experience from anything you'll find on the High Street. If you'll forgive the pun, they put the soul back into shoe-making.<br />
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In the end, I went for the Dartmoor Boot in chocolatey brown leather with a car-tyre sole (for ease of re-heeling), though the options were many.<br />
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I don't know if I've paid off my dues to the cobbler of yore but I'm exceedingly happy. They may not quite be seven-league boots but I'm relishing the thought of walking many miles in their company.</div>
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-37509146383381393532014-11-11T07:23:00.000+00:002014-11-11T07:23:10.900+00:00Raga for a wet morning in NovemberCurl up. Enjoy.<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-50632964686772190102014-10-14T13:53:00.000+01:002014-10-14T13:53:49.183+01:00Intoxication at KewThe Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew have been running their <b>Intoxication</b> season, all about psychoactive plants, and last weekend I was invited to speak on the cultural history of the magic mushroom.<br />
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Aside from the weird and wonderful plants in its collection, there's something Sergeant Pepperish about Kew, so it was a doubly appropriate place for such an event.</div>
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The aim was to draw people's attention away from drugs, per se, back to the plants from which they're derived, and to make the point that people around the world have conceived these plants and their effects differently.</div>
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For example, plants that are seen as sacred by some indigenous cultures are regarded by ours as so dangerous that they can only be displayed in cages.</div>
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Others, meanwhile, remain quite legal...<br />
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...but all came with a warning...</div>
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My talks consisted of a condensed version of <i>Shroom</i> and I'm pleased to say they went down well. Other speakers included Bryn Dentinger talking about the mycology and taxonomy of Psilocybe species; Monique Simmonds on Kew's advisory role to the Police on plants and drugs; and the indefatigable David Luke on mushrooms and psychic abilities. It was all held together by curator, Mike Jay. Huge thanks to everyone involved for creating such an excellent and vibrant weekend.<br />
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Demand was such that on Sunday we were moved to a bigger venue. Two hundred seats proved insufficient and I'm told at least another hundred people were turned away. Here's part of the, ahem, 'kew', which stretched around the building.<br />
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What's clear is that despite the pariah status of the magic mushroom, and psychedelics more generally, interest in the subject grows unabated.</div>
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-37171606168009761882014-10-06T14:56:00.000+01:002014-10-06T14:56:16.339+01:00Postcard from Wales<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5595377920075277072.post-84517855841127021172014-09-15T20:26:00.000+01:002014-09-16T08:48:05.498+01:00Depicting the pastI'm full of admiration for those illustrators who bring the past to life. When watching <i>Time Team – </i>a guilty pleasure, I freely admit – I was always dazzled by Victor Ambrus' uncanny ability to peer at some sketchy archaeological remains, then paint them as they might have been. His people were believable because he made them seem like us. Different lifestyle, different clothes, but just like us.<br />
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Not all artists are so diligent and I've noticed that when it comes to the ancient British past, many fall back on the weary stereotype of the uggish caveman. Whether it be the Stone Age or the Iron, our forebears are all too often shown as dirty, dishevelled, long-haired, bearded, wrapped carelessly in skins, crouched low or imprecating madly to the sky, and clearly suffering from an unhealthy obsession with sharp pointy sticks.<br />
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Last week's BBC documentary, <i>Operation Stonehenge</i>, was a case in point. While otherwise excellent, its tiresome reconstructions trucked out the same stereotypes.</div>
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These jokers would've been dead in a week.<br />
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Such depictions make the past distant, other, and have the effect of elevating us at its expense. We look on condescendingly, safe in the knowledge that the slow march of cultural evolution has made us different. We are civilised. They were not.<br />
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The discovery on Dartmoor, in 2011, of the beautifully preserved remains of a Bronze Age kist burial ought to scotch such stereotypes once and for all. The prize find consisted of two spindle wood discs. They turned out to be ear plugs. Whoever had been buried there had stretched earlobes, a fact that makes me think our ancestors were far more like the indigenous hunter-gathers of today than the convenient oafs of stereotype. </div>
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For <a href="http://anthonylukephotography.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/stunning-images-of-worlds-last.html" target="_blank">take a look</a> at extant tribal cultures and you'll find that they are, by necessity, resourceful, keen-witted, fit, ripped and equipped with the skills and wherewithal to survive.<br />
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They are also proud and vain, adorning themselves in pelts, feathers, piercings, paint and tattoos. They are, in other words, and no matter how alien their moralities, lifeways and worldviews, just like us, a fact I wish the history-makers would remember.<br />
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<a href="http://andy-letcher.blogspot.co.uk">Andy Letcher</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03200561583631896799noreply@blogger.com2