Red Dog Green Dog and Primaeval at Cannings Court Farm

It was a long drive down to Cannings Court Farm in Dorset, and it had been dark for an hour by the time I got there - having found first Salisbury, then a very slow A-road, and then a T-junction marked as a bend in the road on my 2007 map. But it was wonderful once I got there! I'd seen Red Dog Green Dog at St Chartier in 2005 and again in 2007, both times providing wonderful dancing, and Primaeval, the second band, came highly recommended by Michael and Andy, who also mentioned how fantastic the venue was. And it really is!

This is another post that calls out for backing music, and it would be impossible to do better than check out the recordings on archive.org of their 2005 and 2006 performances by Matthew, who'll also be putting up his recording of this year's gig soon.

I ended up going much further up a narrow green lane than I thought was likely, and not a sound could be heard. It was only when I saw the sign for Cannings Court Farm, turned in, parked, and shut off the engine, that the faint whine of the bagpipes could be heard, but everything was still dark. Wandered up, through a campsite still with people in it (are they mad? the dancing's started!), and then got out onto a farmyard, looking up a slope of rather unprepossessing concrete slabs to an old-fashioned barn with enormous doors with people, light and noise spilling out of them. I couldn't see anyone I knew - but that was fine, in fact it was welcome, because this was a very different crowd from the usual French bal. I'd go so far as to say it was much more like St Chartier, with loads of people of all ages (including mine, hurrah!), and a rather alternative/hippy/crusty/friendly vibe to it. Red Dog Green Dog were magnificent, with particularly fun schottisches danced with a variety of people including Trudi (who plays in Cyser and runs the Bristol French session). Did I say about the venue? Wonderfully atmospheric, it really made you feel as if you were dancing back in time, with the many narrow slots cut into the wall, the wooden roof and the sound of the gurdy, bagpipes and concertina echoing around.



Red Dog Green Dog stopped at eleven o'clock on the dot, to much yelling of 'More!' and stamping, so I took the opportunity to buy their CD for Manon and myself, and chat briefly to them - they and Matthew had seen my photo of them and liked it!

Then, on came Primaeval and more dancing, especially an dros, tricots, hanter dros, a rond de Saint Vincent and a six-time laridé which brought everyone together in long snaky lines. Primaeval lived up to their name - wonderful hypnotic tunes that dropped your feet into the right places every time, and matched your heartbeat. I shut my eyes for one of the hanter dros and just let myself be led round, and it was very pleasant, listening to the musicians fading in and out, and the people chatting and laughing around me. That's something that Matthew's field recordings really bring out, the sheer jubilance of the crowd: there isn't a moment where you don't think everyone's having fun, and this was no exception. Some particularly nice dances with a) a German student here on a WWOOF placement, who claimed not to have danced before, but was mazurkaing inside eight bars, and following my improvisations after sixteen, b) Cassie, who had also been at St Chartier - but lost in the crowds, though I would have danced with her had I spotted her, and c) with a rather pretty blonde girl whose Spanish conversation next to me on the stairs with her friends had made me engage them in conversation. Her rather large feet gave the game away that she'd previously been male, she said, but in Uggs you couldn't tell - and she followed well despite saying she often found that difficult.



Primaeval finshed up around two in the morning, after a demanding crowd had wrung the last songs out of them - and then Red Dog Green Dog came back on! Hurrah! So we carried on dancing, only finishing at four, when I got back to my car, clambered in, ate a sandwich, and drove off. After a few more wrong turns, I got out onto the A-road I should have been on originally, and headed off up the A303 towards Salisbury Plain. I didn't make it there, in the end, kipping in a layby and then getting up at six thirty to finish my journey. I hadn't thought quite how beautiful Salisbury Plain could be in the morning, but it is a beautiful drive over the hills with the fog in the valleys below. Then back through Marlborough, with miles of roads through the woods reminding me of how beautiful England is, and a warm bed at the end of it all.



I'll be going back next year, but I'll try and get there for Saturday afternoon, and meet some of the people I danced with or talked to briefly, since they seemed so friendly and interesting.