“Let me open the gates and let you into my fiddle world...”  

That was Alasdair Fraser last week in Benbecula, for the University of the Highlands and Islands' symposium and workshop on Scottish fiddle music. Alasdair shared with us a world of multilingualism and diversity through the sound of the fiddle, which has the capacity for a plurality of voices - a mouth piece of many communities each speaking in their native language. The story of the fiddle is also one of travel, emigration and cultural exchange. At the concert in the evening, Alasdair and Natalie took us on a journey which crossed oceans and traversed languages, with the tune Highlander's Farewell to Ireland beginning as a an old, Highland strathspey, which crosses over to Ireland and becomes a reel (Farewell to Ireland), and then ends up in the Appalachian mountains (Highlander's Farwell). As Natalie and Alasdair brought together these different styles, we heard the meeting of cultures and the conversation between peoples, as the music took on the characteristics of the places and cultures it has encountered along its journey.

Natalie Haas, Sophie Stephenson and Alasdair Fraser. Benbecula, Scotland (May 2013).

At the fiddle workshop, Alasdair encouraged us to find our voice, and to not be ashamed to “speak” (play) in our mother tongue – our local dialect. Using this linguistic metaphor to express character, style and individualism in fiddle music, he expressed the importance of having confidence, pride and a sense of worth in our own culture, our language and in the voice of our nation. Alasdair himself has had a large part to play in bringing Scottish fiddle music to people in Scotland, America and across the globe. With fiddle schools in California and at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig on Skye, now in their third decade and attracting ever growing numbers of fiddlers and cellists, Alasdair has had a considerable influence in the resurgence of fiddle music, which accounts for the strength and vibrancy of the traditional music scene today.     When I first met Alasdair Fraser and Natalie Haas it was at their fiddle and cello summer school on the Isle of Skye. Alasdair was explaining to the group of fiddlers how playing style and technique goes hand in hand with dance. He asked if anyone amongst us was a Highland dancer, and before I knew it, he had me up on my feet and doing the Highland Fling to thetune 'Devil in the Kitchen'. Then, discovering I could also step-dance, he played the same strathspey, but this time, instead of the slow and pointed fashion suited to Highland dancing, he played it rounder and up-tempo in a Cape Breton style, for me to step-dance. Despite the fact that I had been part of the tradition for some years, Alasdair was the first person to really make me aware of the different ways tunes have evolved. My eyes and ears were opened to the various dance traditions in Scotland which, despite sharing a common repertoire, dictated very different approaches to voice and style in music.

Alasdair Fraser Fiddle School at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, Isle of Skye, (July 2010) Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, Isle of Skye, (July 2010)

“When I look at our music – any music – one of the first things I think about is 'how would people move to this?' […] When you get into jigs, reels, the hornpipe, strathspeys, the scottiche, the Highland fling – and all the different ways that we dance in Scotland – those movements have evolved along with the style of the music and they inform the fiddler's bow arm. So, to play a dance tune without ever having seen how people are supposed to move to it, is to cut off a major artery into your music […] To answer that question 'how do I bow this?' I go to the dance floor. And there, right there, are many answers - the dancers are telling you how to bow it. They are telling you that they will respond in a certain way if you give them what they need. And, in order to give them what they need, you need to start bowing in a certain way […] In many cases there is a one to one correspondence between the fiddler's bow arm and the dancers' feet, so you almost feel like a choreographer. If you are bowing and the whole ballroom is moving to your bow, it is one of the great highs of playing traditional music”  - Alasdair Fraser (2013).

1. How were you first introduced to step dance? Where/from whom did you learn to dance?How were you first introduced to step dance? Where/from whom did you learn to dance?

2. Do you have a background in dance or any other cultural forms (music, song)? If so then what style of dance and did you have any formal training?

I started going to dance classes in Fort Augustus from the age of two! I did Ballet, Highland and Tap with Mrs Everett until I was 15. Every year I would sit an exam. When I started to learn step-dance it came very naturally, almost instinctively. The freedom and creativity of step-dance contrasted my formal dance training and it's exam focused structure. I would practise whenever I could – I would come home from school and put on a CD and dance along, trying out steps and making up new ones. Sometimes if I was listening to the radio, a CD or at a concert I couldn't help but shuffle my feet under my chair! Growing up in the Highlands, ceilidhs, sessions and attending Fèisean were a regular feature of my childhood and upbringing. Also, musicians would often gather at my parents' hotel and I would get to stay up way past my bed time to listen and join in with musicians such as Aonghas Grant - The left-handed fiddler of Lochaber!

"Growing up in the Highland with ceilidhs, sessions and Fèisean, meant that music and dance was a regular feature of my childhood and upbringing..."  A session at the Caledonian Hotel, Fort Augustus. Rona Cooper (fiddle), Christina Stephenson (bodhran), Sophie Stephenson (guitar), Rebecca Skeoch (clarsach).

3. On what occasions/ in what contexts do you usually perform? Do you usually perform as a solo dancer or with other dancers?

As there weren't really any other step-dancers around when I was growing up, there weren't many opportunities to step-dance with others except from at workshops. I tend to dance at sessions or perform at concerts or ceilidhs.

Above: Step-dancing in the Caledonian Hotel, Fort Augustus. Left: Impromptu step-dancing at the Captain's Bar in Edinburgh

4. Is there a particular type of footwear which you chose to wear for dancing?

Dancing feet!

5. What, in your opinion, are the signs of a ‘good dancer’?

6. How important is music to the performance? Are there any tunes in particular which you prefer or would select to dance to?

7. When you perform do you usually follow a certain routine or pattern/combination of steps?

8. Would you say that you had a ‘repertoire’ of dance steps? Would you be able to put a number to how many steps that includes? How do you remember steps and identify individual steps?

9. Do you make up your own steps? How much space, do you feel, is there for variation and improvisation within the tradition? Have you ever tried/performed/considered combing ‘traditional’ step dance with other forms/styles of dance?

10. Why do you dance?

MacTV are currently carrying out research about Highland Dancing. We are looking for Highland Dancers competing at championship level to see if there is a good story to tell about the competing world of a Highland Dancer. We’d like to hear from Gaelic speaking dancers in particular, but we would welcome comments from anybody interested or involved in the world of Highland dance. If you are a competing Highland dancer, if you can suggest potential contributors or you think you can help us in anyway, please get in contact on 01851 70 5638 or e-mail me at [email protected]

‘...the allegiance of dancers and spectators to one music and dance sensibility or another serves as a specific means of representing, and even reconstructing, their cultural identity in relation to, or even as resistance to, the dominant cultural formation. Moreover, this struggle against presumed cultural intrusion by perceived “outside” influences has profound and disturbing socio-political effects […] this project has caused me to consider further the implications of tradition versus innovation and of authenticity in the context of spaces of affects and becomings.' 

Interestingly, I read this in a book about Cajun music and identity. It stuck me that this statement could very easily by talking about one of the various Scottish dance traditions (for example, Highland, Step or Scottish Country dancing) and their representation, or reconstruction, of our cultural identity. (This reminded me an insightful article by Margaret Bennett, in the West Highland Free Press, which is well worth a read: http://www.margaretbennett.co.uk/folklore-resources/dance). For me, step-dance, as with any tradition, is a practice which has grown out of the past, but is, like our identity, in a constant process of becoming. I believe that through innovation and creativity which acknowledges these roots, tradition may grow, flourish and become. Conversely, the imposition of standardisation and competition goes against the very nature of tradition. As such, the competitive framework of Highland Dance performance has disrupted the natural course of 'becoming', by preserving a cultural identity constructed according to ideas of ethnic "authenticity". As both a Highland dancer and step-dancer myself, I don't say this to dismiss the equal worth of both traditions. However, I hope to impart the importance, not only of passing on the tradition but, of allowing the tradition to take the natural course of growth and regeneration. Let's look to the future!