Instructions for A Dawn Art Ritual to
Welcome the Spring Equinox
Women Dancing
is in honour of the Spring Equinox, and also this year, as I’ve been re-iterating
in these blogs, it is dedicated to ‘all the women I’ve ever met’. It is also an
honouring of one of the most significant living artists of our times – Patti
Smith. Me also being a Smith, I trust I’m somehow related to her - or at least
I’m a part of a very large and extended family!
And here in
this ancient walled castle whilst dancing in a snow storm, I hear:
We joke over a
big shared breakfast - all giddy on carbs and caffeine after our early rise and
crazy dancing - that we like to think we might be ‘woke’ women. It’s hard to ‘wake-up’
and it’s hard to ‘stay woke’ on your own. Things like this help. We have another
talking and sharing circle on returning from the castle. It’s touching and powerful hearing how each of us were
impacted by the dance.
Practising the Art of Living (co-guiding)
https://courses.cat.org.uk/sustainable-living/practising-the-art-of-living-detail
Woman Time (co-guiding)
http://www.woodlandjourneys.org.uk/wild-camps--quests.html
Vision Quest (assisting guiding May 18 - 27)
http://earth-encounters.org.uk/events-prices.html
· Be a woman. Or identify as one for a while.
· Download Patti Smith’s album ‘Horses’ onto your phone or recording
device. Get yourself a pair of headphones.
· Put the date in your diary on or within a few days of the Spring
Equinox.
· Arrange to meet with others, or decide to do this as a solo art ritual.
· Get up in the early hours in time to be somewhere special where you can see
the sun rise.
· Put on a black dress (and lots of layers depending on the outside
temperature!).
· Make a dedication aloud or silently to someone or something.
· Put on your headphones and prepare for your silent disco. Press ‘Play’
at dawn.
· Dance. Laugh. Cry. Sing along. Go wild!
· Leave an offering and/or give gratitude to the place.
· Return home moved, enlivened, re-vivified and knowing you have connected
to the rhythms of the universe as well as your inner artist and ritualista.
 |
| Woman Dancing. Photo by Phil Ralph |
It is dawn on
Sunday 18th March 2018 - the Sunday closest to the Spring Equinox. The
location is Dinefwr Castle, ancient seat of power of the Great Welsh line
of the Princes of Deheubarth. Rhys ap Tewdwr (d.1093), Gruffudd ap Rhys
(d.1137), Rhys ap Gruffudd (d.1197), Rhys Gryg (d.1233), Rhys Mechyll (d.1244),
Rhys Fychan (d.1271) and so it continues. Looking at the lineage, it is of
course an all-male line-up. And now….
“Jesus died
for somebody’s sins but not mine...”
These first
words of Patti Smith’s iconic album ‘Horses’ see thirteen women scattering
through virgin snow to the various parts of the castle. There are women on the
ramparts, women stationed at the four directions around the tower, women surveying
the Tywi Valley from the high lookout and women down below in the keep. The
women have taken over the castle. Thirteen women are gathered here - thirteen
Dancing Women who are participating in a 7-week time-based project I’m organising
called: ‘7 Sundays in Spring.’ This is art. This is ritual. This is prayer.
This is hard to articulate….
 |
| Dinefwr Castle icicles. Photo by Eleanor Brown |
It is
blizzard conditions. The MET Office have issued travel warnings. The snow is
falling. There are ten-inch icicles hanging from the stone arches, it is
slippery underfoot. There is common-sense but there has been no risk-assessment.
And still the women dance.
 |
| Women Dancing at Dinefwr Castle. Photo by Eleanor Brown |
This is a
gift given and a gift received. This is an everyday art event. An event which
honours ‘all the women I’ve ever met’ in my lifetime. It is conceived by me, an
artist, who holds a deep-seated conviction that we are all artists or have the
capacity to be so if we are able to create the spaces in our lives to do or be it. It
is my wish to make art experiences where there is as little separation as
possible between artist and audience. These are transitional times we have never
seen the like of which before. We are all in this together. I also believe that
ritual can help us create community and connection. It is in the space between
us that the alchemy happens. Yes, this is immersive. Yes, this is
experiential. Yes, this is site-specific and site-responsive. This is where art
and ritual blur, merge, and marry. Whilst respecting traditions, I am not wedded
to one particular path or ‘right way’ of doing things. As the ‘School of LostBorders’ - where I trained last year - puts it so beautifully, this is about
re-finding and trusting our deep connection to ‘self-generated ceremony.’ As
long as we have the right intention, it is creative, democratic, and
needs no specialised knowledge or skills to participate in or practise this
work.
In my invitation
to participate I emphasise that ‘Women Dancing’ is not about being ‘A Dancer:’
We welcome you if you are in
your first decade or your last. We welcome you whether you love dancing but
never do, or love dancing and do so at every possible opportunity. We welcome
you if you love dancing and know you can, or love dancing but think you can’t. This
is about dancing for the joy of it, dancing because your soul needs to or
dancing because that’s the only thing you can do in this time of global
confusion and uncertainty.
You can dance for the sun, the earth, the sky, someone you love or
someone you’ve lost. The ritual will be the ancient rite of moving our bodies
in celebration in the open air. It’s about the feel not the look of what we do.
There may be two of us there may be two thousand. Those of us that turn up will
be the right ones.
 |
| Dancing Woman. Photo by Eleanor Brown |
We thirteen women
are aged from 20 to 70 and are from all over the country. We have each put on a
black dress and walked in silence through the dim light of the early hours and
the falling snow to get here. We are wearing ball-gowns, skinny black dresses,
big flouncy skirts, shiny-sheeny numbers and layers and layers of clothes to
protect us against the sub-zero temperatures and arctic winds. The invitation states
emphatically that the event will go ahead regardless of the weather but none of
us were expecting this….
 |
| The walk to the castle. Photo by Eleanor Brown |
2018 has been
one of the coldest and most snowy years on record… These are the erratic, climatically chaotic conditions we find ourselves dancing in for this the 5th
year of ‘Women Dancing’ in a row. We are longing for the Spring, ready for the
sun. We need to do this.
For the first
four years, ‘Women Dancing’ has been held at Caswell Beach on Gower. At the
time, I’d lived in Swansea on and off for over 30 years. At dawn, Caswell is
one of the most beautiful beaches on Gower, the first recorded ‘Area of Natural
Beauty’ in the UK. Last year I moved to Dinefwr Park outside Llandeilo in
Carmarthenshire and have spent five Autumnal and Wintry months getting to know this
extraordinary place. It is a place of stories with a most colourful and
unlikely past. This year’s ‘Women Dancing’ is in some way a celebration of this
land and the many birds, beasts and beings that currently live or have ever lived here. Dinefwr also has one of the most beautiful and
dramatically located castles in Wales and its doors are open all hours. It felt
like an opportunity too good to miss. And so, ‘Women Dancing’ in 2018 came to
be part of the ‘7 Sundays’ project as: ‘Horses in the Castle’.
‘Horses’ is the name of Patti Smith’s first and most
enduring album. Patti Smith is 71 this year and is still touring and performing
songs from the album. For over forty years ‘Horses’ has
represented one of the most powerful musical statements ever made. My friends at Wikipedia tell me:
Horses has since been viewed by critics as one of the greatest and most
influential albums in the history of the American punk rock movement, as well
as one of the greatest albums of all time. Horses has also been cited as a key influence on a number of
succeeding punk, post-punk,
and alternative
rock acts, including Siouxsie
and the Banshees, The Smiths,
R.E.M. and PJ Harvey.
According to
Smith, Horses was a conscious
attempt "to make a record that would make a certain type of person not
feel alone. People who were like me, different ... I wasn't targeting the
whole world. I wasn't trying to make a hit record.
The
album lasts for 47 minutes – or it does if you happen to have the bonus track live
cover of ‘My Generation’ which was recorded for the 30th anniversary
edition. ‘Horses’ is not just a collection of some of the most
sublime and rocking songs ever recorded, it also represents a meditation on
life, death and memory. It’s both an incantation and prayer and sounds as fresh
and iconic today as when it was recorded in 1975.
Following the success and the response to the first
‘Women Dancing’ in 2012, I wondered whether, if I ever did it again, that the
music should change? There are of course plenty of significant and incredible
albums made by female recording artists. Perhaps ‘Women Dancing’ could dance to
a different album every year? I fast decided that it should be ‘Horses’ or
nothing. For me, there is no other album like it. I believe it’s akin to one of
the great enduring mythic sagas such as ‘The Mabinogion’ or Homer’s ‘Odyssey,’
or poetic meditations such as Eliot’s ‘Four Quartets’. Every time I hear
‘Horses’, I feel something different and I hear different words.
When dancing on the Beach at Caswell I noted the plethora
of sea and tidal references in the songs….
There is no land
but the land
(up there is just a sea of possibilities)
There is no sea but the sea
(up there is a wall of possibilities)
There is no keeper but the key
(up there there are several walls of possibilities)
Except for one who seizes possibilities, one who seizes possibilities.
(up there)
I seize the first possibility,
(up there is just a sea of possibilities)
There is no sea but the sea
(up there is a wall of possibilities)
There is no keeper but the key
(up there there are several walls of possibilities)
Except for one who seizes possibilities, one who seizes possibilities.
(up there)
I seize the first possibility,
I hold the key to
the sea of possibilities
There's no land but the land.
There's no land but the land.
Land
 |
| Women Dancing at Caswell Beach. Photo by Phil Ralph |
Snow started
falling,
I could hear the angel calling.
We rolled on the ground, he stretched out his wings.
The boy flew away and he started to sing.
I could hear the angel calling.
We rolled on the ground, he stretched out his wings.
The boy flew away and he started to sing.
Ice, it was
shining.
I could feel my heart, it was melting.
I tore off my clothes, I danced on my shoes.
I ripped my skin open and then I broke through.
I could feel my heart, it was melting.
I tore off my clothes, I danced on my shoes.
I ripped my skin open and then I broke through.
Break It Up
It is music which
can stir up deep memories and connect us powerfully to mood. It also connects
to story and place as well as having the ability to somehow commune with the
beings that inhabit or are associated with those places.
The Raven is
a regular visitor to Dinefwr and is represented on its Heraldic Standard.
As we huddle together in a circle in the castle keep at exactly 6.25am in
readiness for the dance, Raven flies over croaking a morning greeting.
According to Jo, Raven does another fly-by, during the extended track, ‘Birdland’, close to where
she is dancing in the upper reaches of the tower:
And where there
were eyes were just two white opals, two white opals,
Where there were eyes there were just two white opals
And he looked up and the rays shot
And he saw raven comin' in
And in the same song
Where there were eyes there were just two white opals
And he looked up and the rays shot
And he saw raven comin' in
And in the same song
It's me, it's me,
I'll give you my eyes, take me up, oh now please take me up,
I'm helium raven waitin' for you, please take me up,
Don't let me here…
I'll give you my eyes, take me up, oh now please take me up,
I'm helium raven waitin' for you, please take me up,
Don't let me here…
And he crawled on
his back and he went up
Up up up up up up
Up up up up up up
Birdland
This morning,
as I begin to sit down to write, Raven loudly announces itself sitting atop the
tall pine outside the window where I’m working in our little rented cottage in
Dinefwr Courtyard. In recent years, I have learnt that if I speak to the
universe, the universe often speaks back, whether I can hear it or not.
Thirteen
women dancing. Much has been written in many different traditions about the
significance of this number. Whatever the truth or otherwise of this, I like it’s
ring. It feels mysterious and magical. Anarchic. Mysterious. We are thirteen
women artists, activists, writers, poets, seekers, pilgrims, warriors, mothers
and daughters. Most of the women have only just met, but on arrival in circle are
sharing intimate reflections from the heart. It is powerful hearing our reasons
for wanting to dance. It’s a good way to meet your future room-mates too - since I offered
as part of the experience an, it-must-be-said, crowded sleepover at Grooms
Cottage. Women crammed in, head to toe, sleeping on mats and mattresses in all
corners.
The snow
added another dimension to Women Dancing. It added challenge. It meant that
many other women who had planned to meet us in the morning couldn’t get to us (though some of them danced in their own back-yards instead).
I was surprised that none of our number changed their mind at 5am on looking
out the window at the blizzard conditions. The snow also added beauty and
reminded us of the fragile balance in which our world
climatically - and in so many other ways - currently dwells. It also added massive
amounts of fun, seeing us slipping, sliding and rolling around in it. A snowball fight for an encore. A crunchy
trudge over the fields on our return, stopping every now and again to make snow
angels…
 |
| Snow Angel. Photo by Fern Smith |
Many of us
remarked on how magical the whole experience had felt and how much fun it had
been. We’d enjoyed moving our bodies, dancing alone as well
as the many encounters we’d had with others during the dance. One of our number
shared that she anticipated a future time – hopefully a while away yet - as
she lay dying and was going over the ‘Peak Moments’ of her life, Women Dancing
5 would, she said, definitely be among them (in addition to the Women Dancing that she’d done previously
on Caswell Beach!). Another woman and mother of two young ones, shared that she
had little opportunity for fun in her own life, since as a single parent she is
so strongly aware of her responsibilities. Another, connected by blood to the
great Rhys lineage of Dinefwr, spoke powerfully that there was something
significant about returning the feminine to Dinefwr – redressing the balance of
history by adding her stories, her songs and her dances. Perhaps this is the
most significant aspect of these ‘7 Sundays in Spring’. It is not about
excluding the male, but honouring the female - since these are Women Only events for the most part.
 |
| At Cadair Idris. Photo by Phil Ralph |
In the invitation I sent to ‘all the women I’ve ever met’ I
said:
I want to honour the
significance of the passing of time between women friends and to honour the
nourishment emergent meetings bring. I desire to celebrate and weave the
incredible women I know together in a way which feels playful and significant.
It will involve gathering 7 different circles of women to celebrate the
feminine, creativity, wildness as well as the gifts and mystery inherent in all
life.
Yes, this is about
sisterhood. Yes, this is about “hashtag me too.” Yes, this is about identifying
as women witnessing the beauty and the sorrow of this time. It’s also about
honouring the fragile nature of life at a time where things and people appear
to be falling apart on a daily basis.
Today as I
write this, the snow has disappeared and is but a memory. I am getting messages
from the Dancing Women saying that they are ‘still smiling.’ The temperature outside
is now a balmy 4 degrees. The sun is shining. Perhaps the long-heralded Spring
is come at last. Time passes and Tempus
Fugit, as the final track on ‘Horses’, Elegie,
reminds me. Life is beautiful, painful, transient. Change is the only constant.
The cycles of nature keep turning from Equinox to Solstice and onward to Equinox
again. Next week for my 6th of the 7 Sundays in Spring, the clocks will move
forward one hour to official British Summer Time. You are invited to join me in
Glastonbury for The Rite of Isis. This time men as well as women are equally welcome.
Contact me if you’d like to hear more.
 |
| Equinox Sunrise. Photo by Eleanor Brown |
Fern Smith is an Arts Council of Wales
Creative Wales Recipient and has just discovered with the help of a close friend, that she is an 'Experiential Ritual
Artist'
If you are interested in joining one of the 7 Sundays in Spring gatherings contact me at fern@emergence-uk.org.
Future work includes:
https://courses.cat.org.uk/sustainable-living/practising-the-art-of-living-detail
Woman Time (co-guiding)
http://www.woodlandjourneys.org.uk/wild-camps--quests.html
Vision Quest (assisting guiding May 18 - 27)
http://earth-encounters.org.uk/events-prices.html
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