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Back to Polo's home page Eisteddfod Genedlaethol CymruDinbych - 200125 years onAfter a 25 year break I was back at the Welsh National Eisteddfod this year. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had been out of touch with both Welsh culture and politics on the ground but I was aware there had been some changes in the intervening years.On the surface, at least, the language situation had much improved and Wales now had its own parliament, albeit with fairly restricted powers compared with the aspirations of the nationalist and language movements of the 1970s. My general impression after a week at the Eisteddfod was that despite the changes, the underlying issues remain the same as in the 1970s, except that Wales itself now has the responsibility and the capacity to deal with them - it is now a question of “Welsh Will” rather than “UK Won’t”.
Eisteddfod is the pinnacle of Welsh cultureThe Eisteddfod (meaning “session”) is the pinnacle of Welsh speaking culture. [1] It is an annual event and covers an unbelievably wide range of activities. Cultural competitions play a very large part but the occasion is used by various associations and societies, political parties, government-backed organisations and institutions, commercial organisations and producers, craft workers, churches and the media, to put a case, sell a product or just reassure the general public that they are still in the land of the living.
AttendanceAttendance at the week-long festival is
between 150,000 and 200,000 visitor-days.[2]
Denbigh itself is a very pretty town. It
is situated on a hill and is dominated by a castle which is still in very good
condition. The town centre boasts an old stocks which, thankfully, was not in
use during our stay at the Eisteddfod this year.
Although it actually means a “throne” or
“mound” the word Gorsedd is used as a
collective noun for the assembly of druids and bards when they gather in their
colourful garb to oversee the awarding of the crown, chair or prose medal,
initiate new members into the fold or welcome the delegates from the other
Celtic countries to the Eisteddfod.
The Gorsedd circle[3],
consisting of a grouping of large standing stones and an “altar stone” arranged
in a pattern denoting the rays of the sun and the “ineffable name” of the Lord,
is specially constructed on the outskirts of each town for the Eisteddfod’s
first visit. It is used for some of the colourful druidic ceremonies, and
usually remains after the departure of the Eisteddfod, to be used again,
hopefully, on the return of the festival to the town in later years. Despite
the Eisteddfod having previously visited Denbigh, a new circle had to be
constructed for this year's festival. The old circle from 1939 had been built
over by the local Catholic church - reminiscent of the Church’s appropriation,
over the centuries, of pagan festivals into the liturgical calendar.
There is intense local involvement in the
Eisteddfod, both in the two year run up to the festival and in making a success
of it on the day. Police and local authorities are involved in planning traffic
flows, as Eisteddfod locations are not initially suitable for the vast influx
of visitor cars, busses and supply trucks during the festival. In Denbigh the
police ran a very well thought out one-way system which proved its worth during
the week. Many of the shops and public buildings had staged window and interior
exhibitions recalling the town’s involvement with previous national and local
eisteddfodau.
Special groupings from Denbigh and the
surrounding area were formed for the festival and these performed in the
evenings in the pavilion during the week. They included a cast of 200 primary
school pupils who put on a light music show; a 160 strong cast from the local
area secondary schools who staged the musical Oliver and an almost 400 strong
Eisteddfod mixed voice choir which participated in a miscellany entitled “Viva
Verdi” with nationally renowned Welsh solo opera singers.
Other existing groupings, not
specifically formed for the occasion, but appearing in evening concerts in the Pavilion, included the Welsh Youth
Orchestra, the Cardiff Bay Orchestra, the Ruthin mixed voice choir and a number
of area-based male voice choirs. The internationally renowned Welsh bass
baritone, Bryn Terfel, was also a major attraction at one of the evening
performances.
During Eisteddfod week itself special precautions were in place. Cars were
inspected for mud on arrival at the field and clean cars were certified as
having arrived in that condition. Local mud, subsequently picked up during the
week, was deemed to be “clean mud”. Local farms were put out of bounds to
visitors and cars arriving with pets on board were turned away. At the time of
this writing, the precautions seem to have paid off and the only perceptible
adverse effect was a modest reduction in attendance figures.
However broad the range of competitions, interest
centres on a limited number of high profile categories. At the apex are the
poetry competitions for the crown and chair, followed by the contest for the
Prose medal. A high spot towards the end of the week is the male voice choir
competition for choirs of over 60 voices.
However, the decline of the coal and
steel industries in the southern valleys, combined with a generation gap between
the traditional forms of entertainment and the modern TV and cyber world, has
led to a significant reduction in entries for the male voice choir competition.
In the past, intense local rivalries led to a high level of entries and
cut-throat competition. This has now given way to the lure of US tours. There
is a fear that, once having won the competition, risking lower placings in
subsequent years could tarnish the image required to market the choir abroad
and maximise tour takings. While this attitude is understandable, it runs the
risk of eventually undermining the future of that competition.
Most Eisteddfodau become memorable for
one reason or another.
My first Eisteddfod in Flint in 1969 was
seriously historical as this was the year of the Investiture of Prince Charles
as Prince of Wales. Everything that happened in Wales that year was qualified
by the word “Investiture”. This investiture Eisteddfod provoked serious
protests by the nascent Welsh Language Society and even the somewhat sparsely
populated, “Free Wales Army” of the day.
The Ruthin Eisteddfod in 1973, held not
far from Denbigh, was memorable for Alan Lloyd Roberts winning both major
poetry prizes, the crown and the chair, at the same Eisteddfod. It is not
unusual for poets to have won both crown and chair, even many times over, but
to win both at the one Eisteddfod is relatively rare. [4]
It was to happen soon again in 1976, when
Alan once more pulled off the double, but only because the winner of the chair
that year, Dic Jones, was disqualified over a technical conflict of interest.
As a member of one of the local Eisteddfod committees, Dic did not qualify to
enter the competition, but, as entries are adjudicated under pen names, this
was not picked up until the last minute.[5]
The authorities were very lucky that year
to have had two poems which the adjudicators had already indicated, in their
written adjudications, were worthy of a chair. In fact Dic’s poem only pipped
Alan’s by a short head. In what subsequently turned out to be ironic, one of
the adjudicators had unwittingly commented that Dic's winning poem (Spring)
"was in the same class as Dic Jones’s (Harvest)" which won Dic the
chair ten years previously.
The double (crown and chair) was pulled off again the following year in Wrexham and in 1980 in Diffryn Lliw by Donald Evans and had not been repeated since.
So what did this year hold in store that
would make it memorable. The Denbigh Eisteddfod was going to be historic
anyhow. The modern (post 1880) Eisteddfod had visited Denbigh twice before, in
1882 and 1939. On neither occasion was a chair awarded. In 1939 neither chair
nor crown was awarded, the first time this had happened in the history of the
Eisteddfod.[6] If neither was awarded this year, history would repeat itself. If
only the crown was awarded then Denbigh would have refused to chair a bard
three times in a row, and if a chair was awarded the Denbigh jinx would be
broken. A no-lose situation for those wanting a piece of history, but which
would it be?
Great effort goes into maintaining the
standard of entries for competitions. Prizes are not awarded lightly.
Irrespective of the importance of the competition, if the standard of entries
is not judged adequate no prize is awarded. Since 1880 the chair has been
withheld on 14 occasions and the crown on 4 occasions. The Prose medal has been
withheld 11 times since its inception in 1937.
While the entrants strive for perfection,
its absence does not necessarily deny them the prize. For example, the
adjudicator in one of this year’s main literary competitions criticised the
leading entry and suggested some faults that might be remedied, yet the prize
was awarded. The adjudicators are well aware of the need to encourage new
writers and will strive to award the
prize, providing standards are not compromised. This constructive approach was
vindicated when one of this year's winners subsequently revealed that, were it
not for the encouragement of an adjudicator at an earlier National
Eisteddfod, they would not have had the
confidence to persist.
The competition for the prose medal (a prose
volume of under 40,000 words) had “voices” as its subject. The winning entry
dealt with the tragic loss of an only daughter in a car accident, the effect on
the father who cut himself off from all human and other contact, except for the
voices which challenge and torment him to his limits. We see his despair and
frustration, his anger and rage, his desire for vengeance and his
self-reproach. We follow his attempted suicide and share his rock-bottom
before the tentative signs appear of his coming to terms with himself and
opting to rejoin the living.
The winner was Elfyn Pritchard, from Gwyddelwern
(Swamp of the Gael) near Bala. He already has a distinguished career as a
novelist and has adjudicated at a number of National Eisteddfodau. While his
composition is not based on direct personal experience, he makes the point that
everyone suffers losses in their life and as a teacher, headmaster and deacon
he has also shared in the losses of others.
The competition for the bardic crown,
for a series of at least ten poems in free verse and not more than 200 lines,
had been set on the theme “walls”. The winning entry dealt with how people
build psychological and social defences in their lives against the possibility
of hurt and end up isolating themselves from the rest of the human race, depriving
themselves of the sustenance needed for a full and balanced life.
The poem
follows a life sequence from the child building the walls of his lego castle to
higher walls leading to his self-imposed isolation. In later life this erupts
into violence towards his contemporaries, verbal violence against women in
general and physical abuse of his wife. It is a powerful work on a very
contemporary theme. We are left with the haunting image of the wife begging for
release while the husband hides his face in the newspaper . Meanwhile in public
she smiles wanly in an attempt to hide her bruises.
The winner was Penri Roberts of
Llanidloes. He is the headmaster of a primary school in Newtown and is to be
the head of Powys’s (north-east Wales) first Welsh School from September.
This had also been the subject for the
crown competition in 1972 and at that time the winning poem examined
contemporary Welsh problems, drawing on the Mabinogion tale of Branwen,
Matholwch, the Irish and the “cauldron of rebirth.
This year’s winning entry was more
intensely personal. It dealt with the initial fulfillment of a maiden through
the birth of her baby and her subsequent despair at the baby’s death. She was
then “neither maiden nor mother”. It finishes with her realisation that,
despite what happens to us, we still have the power of choice - to choose living over despair. This is the
“rebirth”. In his adjudication, Dic Jones confessed to being “completely
floored by the section dealing with the pregnancy, birth and mourning”.
Secrets are hard to keep, particularly in
a close community like that of Welsh Wales, where everyone either knows
everyone else, or at least knows someone else who does. There was a great air
of expectancy building up around this competition during the week (some would
say for the previous month). Rumour had it that something big was going to
happen and everyone wanted to be there. The BBC was finding it hard to line up
people for a live studio discussion during the event. For once, no one wanted
to be part of the chattering class, commenting on history as it passed them by.
They wanted to be part of its making.
There are two magic moments at the culmination of
the poetry and prose competitions, more so the poetry than the prose and most
particularly the chair. The competitors have entered under pen-names. The Gorsedd
are assembled on stage, their bardic finery a sea of gold, white, blue and
green shimmering under the floodlights. They face out to a packed and eager
audience of 4,000 people. The air is electric as the adjudicator delivers the adjudication. The audience hang on
every word - has he found someone worthy of the prize? Will there be a chair?
There is a palpable sigh of relief as the pen name of the winner is revealed.
This is the first magic moment. The Archdruid proclaims the name from the stage
asking that person, and no other, to stand. The spotlight searches over the
hushed and darkened audience. Yes, someone has risen to their feet. The
spotlight finds them, a lighted winner in a vast sea of darkness. A collective
gasp which slowly turns to applause. Ever rising waves of cheering and clapping
roll around the pavilion. Everyone is on their feet.
This year the winner was a woman, we were
part of history and the enthusiasm of the crowd knew no bounds. Pure magic.
Hwyl.
This was the defining moment of
this year’s Eisteddfod. For the first time in the history of the Eisteddfod,
the chair was won by a woman. Women had won the crown and the prose medal in
the past, though rarely. But the supreme honour had never been achieved by a
woman before. And now it had finally happened in Denbigh, where nobody had ever
won a chair, and, fittingly, where, at the 1882 Eisteddfod, women had first
been admitted to the Gorsedd.
A further piece of history was made when the
Archdruid kissed the Chair Bard onstage, a not so surprising first when one
considers that these two offices have been male preserves since time
immemorial. The Archdruid, whose term ends this year, also had the satisfaction
that there had been no chairs or crowns withheld on this three year watch.
The winner was Mererid Hopwood. Her academic
training is in languages and she was recently Head of the Arts Council West and
mid Wales Office before venturing on the path of self-employment. She has been
studying cynghanedd for the last six years. She handled her press conference very adroitly, dealing very firmly with
the journalists.
She revealed that she had already entered
this competition some years ago, and would not have done so again, were it not
for the encouragement of the adjudicator who spotted her potential. When
journalists pressed her for more details she referred them to previous
published volumes of adjudications with the clue that her pen-name then had not
been much different from the one she used this year. She clearly felt that journalists
should do a little more of their own research rather than having stories handed
to them on a plate.
On a lighter note, the Emer Feddyg Scholarship
was also won by a woman. The prize is for 3,000 words of prose in one of a
variety of forms. This year’s winner produced an outline for a novel, which, if
it saw the light of day “would be a shock for her mother and any other deacon”.
The name of the novel is “Hogan Horni” (horny girl), and we are promised
revelations about those who attend festivals, should the novel itself ever be
written and published.
The winner was Menna Medi, from near
Caernarfon, who has just left BBC Radio Cymru after 15 years as a researcher,
producer and presenter, to become Chief Marketing Officer for the Sain
Recording Company.
The Gorsedd remained a separate
organisation from the Eisteddfod until 1937 when the two united in the National
Eisteddfod Council, now the Court of the National Eisteddfod.
Today’s Gorsedd is the icing on the Eisteddfod cake,
providing pageantry and a sense of occasion to the national festival. In
inviting new members into its ranks it also serves as a kind of Welsh Wales
honours list, a function also carried out, in part, by the universities in
Wales when they award honorary degrees to deserving recipients.
The Gorsedd assembles, in costume, five
times during the Eisteddfod. In the pavilion it oversees the presentation of
the results of the three main literary competitions - crown and chair for
poetry and medal for prose - and at the Gorsedd circle, weather permitting, it
meets twice to welcome newcomers into its ranks.
The basic ceremonies are repeated on each occasion.
They are very colourful and packed with symbolism.
A group of young girls from the local
primary schools perform a flower dance - symbolising the harvesting of the
flowers of the field to be offered to the Archdruid in a gesture of welcome.
The dance was choreographed by Cynan, a former Archdruid, who did much to
embellish and tighten up the ceremonies into their modern day format. The
Gorsedd is welcomed to the area twice-over: a local mother presents the Hirlas
Horn - symbolising the wine of welcome; and a local maiden presents the Blodeuged (or bouquet) - symbolising the
fruits of the land and the land itself. All this is done with dignity and to
the accompaniment of harp music.
At each ceremony the massive Gorsedd sword is
partially unsheathed as the Archdruid declaims “Is there peace”? The audience
roar back “Peace”! The sword is fully returned to the sheath and the ceremonies
continue.
Apart from being impressive, this is all
great fun, and Archdruids, being men of considerable literary accomplishment and wit, add spice with their off
the cuff remarks, sometimes bringing the house down.
Up to this year, the Archdruid, whose
term runs for three years, was elected by the 30 member Gorsedd Board. This
Board consists of the serving Archdruid, his Deputy, former Archdruids, about
10 other officers and a dozen or so “ordinary” members. By contrast, the total
membership of the Gorsedd is almost 1,700.
Following strong pressure to democratise
the procedure, and various meetings of appropriate sub-committees, it was
decided (conceded) that every member of the Gorsedd should be entitled to a
vote in the election. Any member can now propose a candidate subject to finding
a seconder and five other supporters.
The first product of the new system,
announced at the Gorsedd’s annual meeting in the Societies’ tent on the field,
was Robyn Lewis. Currently the Board’s legal officer and a winner of the Prose
Medal, he had strenuously campaigned over the years to reform the system, and
in particular to raise the status of prose (and its medalists) to equal that of
poetry. It was a significant victory and one which could, in time, change the
character of the Gorsedd. He takes over as Archdruid next year and an
immediately perceptible change may be the dropping of the benign paternalistic
wit of former Archdruids in favour of a more serious and dogmatic presentation
of the office.
While he himself declined to be drawn on how he
would handle the office, and gave the impression of being very cautious, there
is some ground for expecting the odd impulsive outburst at future Gorsedd
sessions. That is not to say that they will go unchallenged.
In a letter to the Western Mail[8], early last year, former Herald Bard, Dillwyn Miles, challenged
Lewis’s assertion that the Prince of Wales hadn’t a drop of Welsh blood in his
veins. In a passage reminiscent of the opening paragraphs of St. Lukes gospel,
Dillwyn took the reader on a tour of the Prince’s lineage and managed the
staggering feat of ending up with Owain Glyndwr. Glyndwr was one of last of the Welsh leaders to rebel against
English rule in Wales at the beginning of the 15th century.
Dillwyn is worthy of mention in his own
rite. A member of the Gorsedd since 1936 and Herald Bard since 1966, he was one
of the “characters” in the Gorsedd. He stood out, in what was already fairly impressive pageantry, with a Herald Bard regalia designed by the former Archdruid, Cynan. This gear was reminiscent of Lawrence of Arabia and evocative of Dillwyn's wartime service in the Middle East. It was, however, a bit over the top and Dillwyn abandoned it in favour of his normal druid's white robes shortly after Cynan's death in 1970.
Each group is presented to the Archdruid in turn and
delivers a message, in their own Celtic language, from the home country to a
packed pavilion[9]. This year’s
ceremony benefitted from a welcome innovation decided on last year - a Welsh
translation of the message was displayed on the two giant screens on either
side of the stage. Ireland’s delegates were Muiris Ó Rócháin and Bláthnaid Ó
Brádaigh.
The Gorsedd also mourns the passing of
its members who died during the past year, recites their names, and calls on
God’s merciful protection for their
mourning families and surviving partners (where applicable!).
Two Irish residents, who had died, were
remembered this year: an tAthair Diarmuid Ó Laoghaire, SJ, whose Gorsedd name was Bendigeid Fran, son
of Llyr in the Welsh myth of the Mabinogion (on the Irish side of the mythology
this would be Bran son of Lir); and Alan Heussaf, a Breton well known in Irish
language circles, whose Gorsedd name was Gwenerzh [Venus or the Muse?].
The Celtic countries reciprocate by
inviting representatives from the Gorsedd to attend their festivals. In his
report to the Gorsedd on his visit to the Oireachtas last year, the
Archdruid commented on the enthusiasm of the welcome extended to himself, the
Deputy Archdruid, and their wives, to the festivities in Clontarf Castle and
the competitions in CUS He thanked various people, including Bláthnaid,
“without whose presence, and that of her husband, no Celtic festival is
complete”.
The Welsh party seem to have constituted
the entire audience at the accordion competitions but were impressed at the
general range of activities and the “tremendous efforts being made to foster
the language and traditions of the Emerald Isle”. The Archdruid commented on
efforts to improve the links between Ireland and Wales and felt that these
reciprocal visits provided an opportunity to discuss the comparative state
of language and culture in the two
countries.
The Oireachtas had a stand on the
Eisteddfod field at a number of Eisteddfodau in the early 1970s. The one in Ruthin in 1973 attracted considerable interest. This seems to have been a cultural abberration, however, and has not been repeated.
The stand promoted a range of Irish publications, and members of Craobh Móibhí
provided live upbeat versions of traditional Irish music. Rosc, Conradh na
Gaeilge’s bilingual monthly, carried a
trilingual “front page” specially directed at those attending that Eisteddfod.
Virtually all of the formal Eisteddfod
activities take place on the field.
The centrepiece of the field is the giant pavilion
which accommodates 4,000 people, comfortably seated, along with a vast stage
area and a network of service buildings including offices, dressing rooms, hospitality,
press room and the ever necessary loos. The Eisteddfod has a permanent national
logo, and individual logos for each annual event, but the real logo for regular
attendees is the pavilion itself. It dominates the field and is a sort of
trademark for the festival.
The pavilion used to be a wooden
structure, but by the mid 1970s this was on its last legs and, after much
dithering and controversy a flashy new steel basedstructure was acquired. This turned out to be uneconomical to
move around the country and was finally abandoned. The current structure, which
is hired out each year, is, in fact a circus tent but it too is now reaching
the end of its working life.
As in the mid 1970s the future of the
pavilion is, once more, at the centre of heated discussion. The current
structure has served the event well, but the canvas flaps in the wind and
resonates to the rain. This makes it unsuitable for some of the competitions
and, in particular, for the world class stage performances in the evenings. All
options for renewal are under consideration but time is running out.
The bulk of the stands consist of
wooden-framed, canvass covered, stalls and most of the ordinary commercial
interests, voluntary groups, political parties, churches and the like were
housed in these. The majority were vibrant centres of information, propaganda,
controversy and fun but some were as dull as ditchwater with a table, a few
posters and a few down-at-heel aging volunteers. Many housed small outlets for
arts and craft workers whose products caught the eye and were, on the whole,
modestly priced. Some catered for a broad range of interests while others were
more narrowly focussed. These latter included the political parties, churches
and voluntary organisations.
Daily tickets to the field cost £8
(sterling !). This included admission to the daytime events in the pavilion -
consisting of competition finals, adjudications and the main Gorsedd-sponsored
literary investitures. Given the importance and intensity of the field
activities during Eisteddfod week, this was good value, particularly for
Welsh-speaking enthusiasts.
There was entertainment aplenty, and
particularly for children. Otherwise, families, whom the festival wants to
attract, could have had a rawer deal if they were relying on some of the more
staid stalls around the field.
The broadcasting companies were very much to the fore
in this. BBC-Cymru (Welsh language radio programmes) ran live gigs on the field
all through the day and some of these were broadcast live on the Welsh network.
They also provided a range of computer zap-em-up games for the emotionally
challenged child. S4C, the Welsh language amalgam TV network, provided an
opportunity for children to meet characters from their favourite soaps and
access various facilities on their website.
The company was formed by Idris Charles, a vibrant Welsh entrepreneur with a
background too colourful and varied to recount here. It promotes new young
Welsh artists and many of these were performing live on the field. Robin Jones
had been “discovered” on the TV programme “Star for a Night”. He was deluged
with offers from all over the UK but has decided to continue singing and
songwriting in Welsh and signed up with Penffordd. He is a personable young man with a very lyrical voice and his
first CD is mainly of his own compositions with a beautifully rendered
traditional number (Mari fach fy nghariad) and a tribute to the Welsh leader
Owain Glyndwr for which he wrote the melody and his father the words.
Penffordd ran one of the most innovative
and entertaining informal events of the festival when it organised a “karaoke”
competition between the National Assembly members of themain political parties in Wales, to be
adjudicated by a live audience on the spot.
The contest got lots of advance
publicity. The Liverpool Daily Post pointed out that the Tory contestant could
not sing and was going to recite a poem instead. There may be the germ of a new
Eisteddfod poetry competition here!
In the event the contest was a hoot and each of the
National Assembly members entered fully into the spirit of the event. The Tory
member did turn up, sporting a large gold pound sterling brooch on his lapel,
and he did recite a poem and it was karaoke - the Liberace style accompaniment
on the keyboard made sure of this. The Lib-Dems fancied their chances with a
lady who had clearly sung before and the Labour Party relied on the proletarian
vote. But the winner was the clever lady from Plaid Cymru (Y Blaid) who had no
hesitation in admitting, after the event, that she had packed the audience. The
days of the Blaid leading the Blind are not yet a thing of the past.[10]
Postwatch, the Post Office consumer
watchdog, were offering participation in a raffle for £50 to those who could
identify the locations in Wales of six post office fronts from a set of
photographs. There was a deterministic solution for those with microscopic
vision. I settled for taking off my glasses and am very hopeful of a cheque in
the post.
In one instance, a glass perspex case
gave the impression that the exhibit it normally housed had been stolen or taken away for cleaning or repair. On closer
inspection it was found to house a grain of wheat and a spent .22 cartridge.
The accompanying plaque said it was “untitled”. “Foot ‘n Mouth” sprang
immediately to mind.
A more substantial exhibit, and winner of the gold
medal in craft and design, and a cash award of £3,000, was by Claire Curneen.
Claire is now Cardiff-based but originally hails from Tralee. Her entry was a
series of primitive style ceramic figures worked in porcelain with thin slivers
of clay and gilt. This was a work of intensity and you either hated or loved
it. I started off hating it from the catalogue pictures, but after visiting the
exhibition the figures started to grow on me. There was a starkness and line to
them that suggested a tentative serenity and the way in which the figures were
grouped gave them a powerful sense of form.
The selectors in the architecture
category were happy that the range of entries bore witness to architecture in
Wales heeding the call for responsible development. There was a little irony to
this competition, however. On the one hand, the gold medal was won for a
building that was explicitly advertised
as not using cement, while, on the other, the German based multinational Castle
Cement was underlining its support for Welsh culture by sponsoring the first day
of the Eisteddfod. It also stretched a point by claiming to underpin democracy
in the Celtic lands by using Welsh cement in the construction of the Scottish
Parliament building in Edinburgh.
As in previous years, the Catholic Church had a
stand on the field. This is usually the preserve of “Y Cylch Catholig” a nationally based circle of Welsh speaking
lay Catholics within the Church. When the bishop arrived from Wrexham to
inspect his forces and celebrate a special Eisteddfod mass in the parish
church, he expressed his appreciation of the extent to which the local parish
itself was involved this year, both in the stand and in the festival in
general. This may be a turning point for greater involvement of the local
parishes in future festivals.
In the 1970s the language movement made
strenuous efforts to remove all signs of English from the field but there now
seems to be a greater tolerance of bilingualism. This has created its own
problems and, while the Eisteddfod is
celebrating 50 years of the “Welsh rule”, there is some disquiet at the extent
to which English has penetrated the stands around the field. The Eisteddfod
Council found it necessary to reiterate its position on the language this year
and has asked local committees in particular to bring the rules to the
attention of those manning stands on the field.
The Eisteddfod’s position on the use of
Welsh can be summarised as follows:
Apart from the fixed interpretation
infrastructure, the small portable cabin setup, and the even lighter single
pole structure used in the press room proved extremely efficient for small
meetings. They are an example of how modern technology can facilitate
bilingualism and are relevant to other minority language situations beyond
Wales.
The experiment was pronounced a success
at last year’s annual meeting of the Eisteddfod Court and maes B is now to become a permanent feature of the
Eisteddfod.
Activities on the maes B in previous
years had been organised by the Welsh Language Society but this year the
Eisteddfod refused to continue the arrangement as long as the Society was
involved in protests on the main field, particularly the defacement of some of
the stands. The Society retaliated by
organising its own gigs in the area generally. Despite the opposition to what
some see as an establishment take-over, the maes B looks set for a long
innings.
The Welsh Language Society ran a series of
night-time gigs in Denbigh, Rhyl and Ruthin. One of the Denbigh gigs included Meic
Stevens who was a folk singer before singing was invented. He spent a lot
of time abroad but in the 1970s he returned to Wales and took a prominent part
in the singing end of the language protest movement. His classic anti-pollution
song “Mwg” (smoke) still stirs the soul.
This years protest involved carting a four poster
bed (4 posters, get it?) around the field and stopping outside the stands of
the political parties. A society member jumped into bed and a series of alarm
clocks were set to go off in five minutes. The intervening time was ably used
by other members of the Society making apposite speeches and when the alarms
rang the cry of “wake up now” was taken up by the ever increasing crowd. The
protest finished at the National Assembly stand where a succession of speakers
were egged on by a now massive crowd of supporters. The protest, while
assertive, was friendly and the police kept a very low profile.
In view of the rising controversy over
English speaking immigration into Welsh speaking areas, speakers were very
careful to completely disassociate the Society from the UK British National
Party which had planned a large rally on the subject in Llanerfyl during the same week. Nevertheless, one of the
tabloids managed to find a Rabbi and his wife at the festival and elicit quotes
on “beginnings of Nazism referring to protests on the field. The paper
concerned was generally taken to be the one referred to in the Executive
Committee President’s speech as a “faked-Welsh daily rag”.
Welsh CND were also involved in a protest on the
field. They objected to the sponsoring of the secondary schools performance
of Oliver by Airbus UK because this
company is part owned by BAE Systems which makes components for fighter
aircraft used in conflict situations in Zimbabwe and East Timor. In addition to
a noisy protest around the field, the protesters defaced the sponsors’ pavilion
with graffiti and stickers proclaiming “peaceful Eisteddfod ? with BAE money”.
Meanwhile, during the week, the Welsh First Minister was praising Airbus for
bringing high class employment to Wales. The Eisteddfod Director, while aware
of the issue, took a pragmatic line and pointed out that, if every company
which offered sponsorship was to be put under the microscope and its relations
with every other company taken into account, there would be precious few
companies left to sponsor the Eisteddfod.
Many of the issues involved in this area
are the subject of bitter controversy in the media and among the political
parties. Preserving and developing what is a minority language (c 20%) in any
society raises issues of community, positive discrimination and, inevitably,
immigration.
The four main political parties in Wales
(Plaid Cymru, Labour, Liberal Democrats and Conservatives) have stands on the
field.
The recently established Welsh National
Assembly also has a stand. This is
generally devoted to informing the public on the activities and structures of
the new Assembly. The display also makes some very strong political points in a
very subtle way. It underlines the extent of the Assembly's extensive contacts
with foreign administrations, including the Irish, although foreign policy
remains a function of the UK Parliament.
While Wales has changed a lot since the
mid 1970s in terms of official status for the language and significant
devolution from Westminster, there is still a strong protest movement and some
of the political parties are divided down the middle on the critical issues of
community development in the current linguistic context.
The Cymdeithas’s four poster bed saga
gives a broad idea of what is involved. The posters read “There is no need for a new Welsh language
act”, “There is no need for a property act”, “The struggle is over”, “National
Assembly, go back to sleep”.
The principal difference I notice from
the 1970s in this area is how these issues, considered by many in those days to
be fringe issues, have now moved very much to centre stage. Plaid Cymru and the
Labour Party have both published documents dealing with the language and
housing issues. But the most interesting development was the migration of these
issues onto the Eisteddfod stage itself during the week.
On the Monday, the Archdruid, in his
customary address on the opening of the Gorsedd, got straight to the point
calling for a new housing act and drawing an analogy between the clouds of war
that threatened the country in 1939, on the occasion of the festival’s last
visit to Denbigh, and today’s threat to the Welsh language and heartland. He
pointed out that while Swansea, where he lived at the time, eventually rose
from the ashes of war, the loss of language and community were irrevocable.
On the Tuesday, the flames were further
fanned by an article in Barn, a Welsh language monthly, where the former head
of the Welsh Language Board, John Elfed Jones, a man with a distinguished
business career spanning over forty years, compared immigration from English
speaking areas into (Welsh speaking) rural Wales with the foot and mouth epidemic. Nothing was being done
about the former while all the nation’s resources had been mobilised to combat
the latter. He bemoaned the higher priority given to flocks over culture and
herds over a way of life. (The preceding sentence is taken from a translation
of his article provided by the Western Mail and it does less than justice to
the resonance of the original Welsh phrases[11]
On the Wednesday, Plaid Cymru Vice
President, Gwilym ap Ioan, had to stand down from the party’s national
Executive after claiming Wales had become a dumping ground for England‘s
oddballs, social misfits and dropouts. He actually compared Wales in a British
context with Montana is the US. This in turn led to protests on behalf of
Montana.
On the Thursday, the Chairman of the
Eisteddfod Council, in his address to the Court, called on the National
Assembly to establish an independent commission to investigate the causes of
the crisis in the rural communities where the Welsh language was in decline and
to recommend, within a year, measures to safeguard these communities. This was
upping the ante from his report of the previous year where he simply called for
a review of some of the Eisteddfod competitions which were not attracting
sufficient entries.
On the Saturday, the chairman of the
Executive Committee for this year’s Eisteddfod, Eifion Lloyd Jones, in his
address as President for the Day, called for far reaching measures to
consolidate the Welsh heartland (gaeltacht) and promote the language. He
referred to the undermining of Welsh by excessive immigration into Welsh
speaking areas by non-Welsh speakers and, in particular, those who were not
prepared to learn the language. He hit out at the inadequate teaching of Welsh
in the schools where the product was English language syntax with a veneer of
Welsh vocabulary (in an Irish context this would be referred to as Béarlachas).
He called for limiting the intake of learners into Welsh language schools and
financing Welsh medium education on the basis of teaching quality and results
rather than mere numbers.He tackled the racist accusation
head-onreferring to heritage
safeguards which are applied as a matter of course in the English Lake
District. “It’s acceptable to safeguard the English from the English or the
Welsh. But some find it unacceptable to safeguard the Welsh from the English.
It is acceptable to legislate in order to safeguard birds and insects, flowers
and plants, but unacceptable to legislate to safeguard a language and the Welsh
way of life”
There is a competition for Learner of the
Year. This year the prize went to a young man from Wrexham who had been
learning Welsh for the last three years. This was not unconnected with his
impending marriage to a Welsh speaking girl from Bangor. In his acceptance
speech he particularly thanked her parents who had always insisted on speaking
to him in Welsh when he visited their home.
There is a special stand for learners on
the field. This offers basic Welsh classes, advice on learning the language,
Welsh on the web and so on. Some public representatives participate in the
stand’s activities. This year the Chief Constable of Gwynedd (North West Wales)
was awarded his GCSE A level certificate in Welsh as a second language. It was
a condition of his appointment as Chief Constable that he learn Welsh. He
commented that he could do his job perfectly well without speaking a word of
Welsh but it would not be right. He is a strong supporter of Welsh in the force
and appealed for recognition of the resource costs involved in having the force
operate in a second language. These include the employment of tutors and the
need to take on sufficient staff to cover for those on training courses. His
own learning involved several week-long courses at the National Language Centre
at Nant Gwrtheyrn but he now avails of the full-time tutor at police HQ
There are special live viewings of the
Crowning and Chairing ceremonies in the learners stand with a Welsh language
commentary tailored for learners.
Meanwhile the company, which had always
been to the fore in technological development, has gone into high class
printing and publishing. It has acquired the latest press technology and has
ambitions to become a significant publisher across all the Celtic countries.
In general the Welsh are very patient
with learners (at least in my experience) and they avoid the purist attitude
which has deterred many a shy learner of Irish from trying out their newly
acquired phrases in public.
This was continued this year and the site
carried limited postings about the winners of the main competitions,
information on the Gorsedd and items on some of the sponsors. There is still a
lot of scope for expanding this service. It would, however, need a full time
webmaster, particularly during the festival week. It would also require
sponsorship as resources are very tightly stretched. Any development of the
site would also need to be synchronised with the extensive existing media
coverage of the festival, both on the airwaves and over the internet.
At present S4C (www.s4c.co.uk
), the Welsh language TV channel, relays live TV coverage of the main
ceremonies, events, and competitions from the pavilion. It relays about 30 hours
of analogue and 100 hours of digital TV coverage during the festival. While
this level of coverage is very welcome and a great boon to those not able to be
physically present at the festival, it does have its downside. Those who can
follow all the main events of the festival in the comfort of their own homes
may be less likely to attend the Eisteddfod. In his address, Efion Lloyd Jones
also touched on this, when he pointed out that comparing annual attendance
figures, in these circumstances, is a
worthless obsession, and the press and media would do well to realise the
fact”. Nevertheless, a minimum physical attendance is required each
year to ensure the continuation of the festival. The authorities are therefore
constantly trying to strike a balance between attendance, viewership and the
level of fees charged to the broadcasting companies.
BBC Cymru (www.bbc.co.uk/cymru), Welsh language
radio, has live coverage of most of the major events and much of the rest
of the Pavilion activity. It also carries, on its own website, Eisteddfod news
stories, including informed pieces on the winners of the main competitions, and
a daily diary posting from the field, along with general information and
timetables.
BBC Wales ( www.bbc.co.uk/wales ), the corporation’s English
language radio channel in Wales, broadcasts evening roundups of the days
events on the field and carries general news stories on the festival.
This year, for the first time, the
Eisteddfod installed a computer with an Internet connection in the press tent.
This greatly facilitated the daily diary posting from the field to the Celtic
Cafe website ( www.celticcafe.com ).
These postings are intended to be turned into an illustrated feature on this
year’s Eisteddfod. This will, hopefully, not only broaden the Celtic coverage
of the site, which is largely confined to things Irish, but also introduce the
Eisteddfod to a new overseas audience.
The National Menter (Venture) Awards were presented
on the pavilion stage by Wales’s First Minister, Rhodri Morgan. These annual
awards celebrate the achievements of Welsh speakers who succeed in business,
and successful businesses that promote the Welsh language and contribute to
prosperity in the local and national economy. This year’s awards went to (i)
the managing director of Portmeirion, an Italienate village which has become a
major tourist attraction on the North West coastline, (ii) a food and
restaurant company called Blas ar Fwyd (which could serve as the Welsh term for
delicatessen) and (iii) a locally based dairy business specialising in fruit
flavoured yogurts and liqueur desserts.
The Welsh Development Authority (WDA)
launched a £1 million Information Technology Trailer as part of the “Wales
Information Society” (WIS) programme. The programme is cofunded by the WDA and
the EU. The purpose-built technology trailer, the largest in Europe, is equipped
with every type of Information and Communication Technology (ICT) and it will
travel around Wales introducing the latest technology to the remotest parts of
the country. Rosemary O’Connor, the Director of WIS, has a background in
delivering ICT programmes to small business and, prior to working in Wales, she
managed the Shannon Region’s Information Society and Action Plan.
One of the facilities on show in the
trailer is “ www.BestofRuralWales.com
”. This is a rapidly expanding database cum catalogue designed to encourage
small businesses and artisans to market their products online.
The launch at an Eisteddfod was
particularly appropriate as the festival itself is strenuously seeking lottery
funding to finance a new pavilion. They were turned down for first round
funding but are persisting into the second round. Even the druids are looking
for lottery funding to replace some of the
druidic and bardic regalia.
Sponsorship has always been a source of
income for the festival. Last year’s annual meeting noted that some of the companies which traditionally supported
the Eisteddfod were in trouble and a Sponsorship Committee was established to
find new sponsors. It was also decided to set up a sponsors’ stand on the field
to publicise individual sponsors. Sponsorship of individual events is also
prominently acknowledged in the Eisteddfod programme (a very well produced
comprehensive manual on the week’s events for a mere £5).
Even the best of sponsorship can bring
its own headaches as the BAE problems outlined above testify. The festival’s
Director, Elfed Roberts, rightly commented that they could not hold an
inquisition on every company which offered them sponsorship and that those
companies which did contribute were often significant employers in Wales.
Nevertheless, in an age where the Government is proclaiming an ethical foreign
policy and anti-globalisation protest is all the rage, the festival will have
to pay more attention to selecting its sponsors if it wants to ensure trouble
free events in the future.
There are also individual overseas
interests represented in the stands, such as the Welsh section of the US
University of Rio from Ohio.
Seattle-born Pegi Talfryn had learned Welsh, moved
to Wales and was the Learner’s Officer at this years Eisteddfod. She has
published a Welsh course for parents and in the run-up to the Eisteddfod was
teaching the language to some local non-Welsh speakers in advance of the
festival.
There is also a third world presence, and
connections, on the field. This year’s offerings included the Cymru Cuba
solidarity campaign, the Wales Nicaragua solidarity campaign, a Wales/Lesotho
stand, and an international campaign to counter the global water crisis.
By far the most colourful was, Madame Kadi Friqqit,
the representative of the Government of Burkina Faso who made a plea for
increased contact between artisans/craft workers in both countries.
She cited the example of tiny Luxembourg which was financing a network of craft villages
in Niger and Burkina Faso. She was accompanied by her no less colourful nephew,
Frank Olivier Tarpaga, who treated us to a recital of Djembe drumming. He is
also a traditional singer and seanachaí. He teaches these traditional skills
and has his own musical group which travels extensively abroad.
The Burkina party was introduced to the
media, and the public at large, by Ffred Ffransis, a prominent and longstanding
member of the Welsh Language Society. Ffred will be fasting outside the
National Assembly for a week in the lead up to Glyndwr day (16 September), in
support of the Society’s demands. There is pressure building up in some
quarters to have the day declared a national holiday in Wales and the National
Assembly has now agreed to fly Glyndwr’s flag over the Assembly building on
that day.
The settlement itself is a remarkable
story. It originated in the 1860s as part of the migrations to the New World.
These were both economic migrants and “political” refugees. The initial Welsh
group were aware of the extent to which earlier migrants, from various countries,
had been absorbed into their newly adopted societies and they determined to
find somewhere to set up a community which could retain its original values and
language. With help from some American Welsh, and following successful
negotiations with the Government of Argentina which exercised sovereignty over
the area, they chose Patagonia, “a sparsely inhabited territory which had
rejected previous attempts of European settlement”.
The eulogy, which accompanied the
bestowing of the “World-wide Welsh Award 2001” on this expatriate community at
this year’s Eisteddfod, is worth quoting:
Technical
progress was accompanied by social organization, and indeed depended upon it.
The Welsh gave themselves their own government, including a constitution that
did not discriminate between the sexes and provided for voting by secret
ballot, while in Wales farmers were thrown out of their farms for voting
according to their conscience. They set up their own schools, where every
subject was taught in Welsh - while their brethren in Wales were subject to the
indignity of the “Welsh Not”. They founded their own chapels They developed a
very successful commercial enterprise in the form of one of the first
cooperatives to be organized in Argentina, which eventually grew to the extent
of having its own ships. Economic activity led to the building of one of the
earliest railroads in Argentina. They explored the land and eventually
established a “branch” settlement at the foot of the Andes mountains. They
enjoyed their culture, including an annual eisteddfod which continues to be
held to this day and will play host to a Gorsedd delegation this Fall. Also
worth noting are the exemplary relations the Welsh enjoyed with the natives, who
were nomadic, and who they respected as brethren.”
It is not surprising, then, that this
community still retains a special place in Welsh hearts and culture today.
Patagonian Welsh are frequently honoured by being invited to join the Gorsedd
and one particular Archdruid (Bryn – 1975/78), while born in Wales, was raised
in Patagonia, won his first chair at a Patagonian Eisteddfod, and admitted to
thinking first in Spanish rather than Welsh.
There was a rumour last year that
Liverpool intended to invite a future Eisteddfod to that city. This is very
unlikely to happen as Liverpool is not in Wales. The Eisteddfod has been held
outside Wales, but not since 1929. [13] That was in Liverpool, but times have changed.
At the end of the 1950s Liverpool became the focus of Welsh language
and community protests as Tryweryn Valley, near Bala, the home of a small Welsh
speaking community, was flooded to build a reservoir to provide water for the
city. The language protests were bitterly resented by an uncomprehending
Liverpool population while the valley became a rallying cry for a wide spectrum
of Welsh language opinion. It is claimed that it fueled the campaign for
devolution, only now being implemented in Wales, and efforts are still ongoing
to have a fitting memorial erected in
the valley.
The matter came up at last year’s annual
meeting of the Eisteddfod, where Robyn Lewis, now Archdruid elect, pointed out
that in view of the history of Tryweryn, any decision to bring the Eisteddfod
to Liverpool would need the unanimous backing of the Eisteddfod Court.
Tad Fitzgerald: an Irish Carmelite who spent most of
his priestly life ministering to the Welsh and who is now writing very fine
religious poetry in Welsh. He was instantly recognisable on the Catholic Church
stand on the field.
Harri Pritchard Jones: a Welshman who was
once a GP on the Aran Islands and who in the 1970s when I last met him was
something of a media and cultural personality. He was one of the adjudicators
for the Prose Medal at this year’s Eisteddfod.
Gwyn Erfyl: (reverend) who came to
Ireland with HTV in the 1970s to make TV programmes. Gwyn preached the sermon
at the Sunday morning service in the Pavilion.
Clive Betts: reporter with the Western
Mail. Clive published his seminal book “Culture in Crisis - the future of the
Welsh language” in 1976. The central thesis of the book was the need to protect
the language in the heartland, precisely that theme which Eifion Lloyd Jones
took up in his rousing speech from the pavilion stage on the Saturday.
Meic Stevens: a first class folk singer.
Meic has seen and done it all and come out the other end a sane and very
unpretentious guy. He is nearly finished his autobiography and, by all
accounts, there are many included in it who hope it stays unfinished.
Dafydd Iwan: former Chairman of the Welsh Language
Society, composer singer and activist. He is now in danger of becoming the
personification of some of the characters he poked fun at in his songs, the
Prince of Wales excepted, of course. He was singing on the field and promoting
his recording company, Sain. He also adjudicated this year‘s competition for a
light song on a soap opera theme.
Jâms Nicolas (no relation to Jams
O’Donnell in An Béal Bocht”) former Archdruid and now Gorsedd Recorder. It was
he who read from the stage the list of Gorsedd members who had died during the
year.
It was also a time for memories of those
no longer with us:
Donnchadh O’Suilleabháin: former General
Secretary of the Oireachtas and delegate to the Gorsedd. Donnchadh was
responsible for the Oireachtas stand at the Eisteddfod in the early 1970s.
Diarmuid O’Laoghaire, SJ, and Alan
Heussaf: referred to earlier.
It was a little ironic that this followed
the relaxing of the condition that the Archdruid must be elected from among
crown and chair winners only. For the last few years, prose medal winners also
qualified as candidates and one of these was elected Archdruid at this year’s
Gorsedd AGM. There are now 11 women winners in these three categories, who, in
theory at least, are potential candidates. The opening up of the electoral
college to the full Gorsedd membership of 1,700 should also help women’s
chances. The reported 700 returned ballots in this year’s election show that
the membership take the process seriously. Let’s see what happens in three
years time when the next election is due.
The adjudicator's comments are no less worthy of mention:
Some red herring!
The real question is how robust is the
heartland as a source of inspiration and sustenance for Welsh Wales, and will
this Wales succeed in achieving peaceful coexistence with its English speaking
fellow citizens.
I look forward to seeing more progress,
and having more fun, on a future visit to the Aladdin’s cave that is the
National Eisteddfod of Wales.
[2] This includes repeat visits by regular attenders. Numbers have
declined somewhat over the years, though they have now stabilised. Attendance
in individual years can reflect particular factors such as the location of the
event, or, as this year, the inhibiting influence of the foot and mouth
epidemic. A significant percentage of the attendance is from the 15 to 25 year
age cohort.
[3] "The circle consists
of twelve stone pillars, sometimes hewn from a local quarry, sometimes gathered
from the fields, or brought down from the surrounding hills. A large, flat-topped stone, known as the
Maen Llog (the Logan Stone), lies at the centre of the circle and provides a
platform from which the Archdruid conducts the proceedings. Facing it, at the
east cardinal point, is Maen y Cyfamod (the Stone of the Covenant), at which
the Herald Bard stands, and behind this are Meini'r Porth (the Portal Stones) which
are guarded by purple-robed Eisteddfod officials. The portal stone to the right of the entrance points to sunrise
at midsummer day, while that to the left indicates the rising sun at midwinter. The shadows thrown by these three stones form the pattern /|\ symbolising the ineffable name and signifying the rays of
the divine attributes—love, justice and truth." (The Royal National
Eisteddfod of Wales” Dillwyn Miles (1978) p136)
[4] In the history of
the modern Eisteddfod (since 1880) this had only happened twice before, in Wrecsam in 1912 and in
Bangor in 1915.
[5] He is shown as the winner in the official book of compositions and
adjudications, published on the day of the chairing. Although this was
corrected in subsequent publications, the incident generated a lot of bad
feeling at the time.
[6] if one excepts 1914 when the Eisteddfod
itself was cancelled due to the outbreak of World War I. The 1940 Eisteddfod
did not take place as planned in Mountain Ash, Rhondda Valley, due to World War
II, but an “Eisteddfod of the air” was held over the radio. The crown and chair
competitions took place; a chair was awarded but the crown was withheld.
[7] The 1940 Eisteddfod, which was to be held in Mountain Ash in the
Rhondda Valley, took place over the radio.
[8] 20/3/00
[9] This happens just before the crowning ceremony.
[10] Mind you, this phrase doesn’t have quite
the same ring to it when you say “the Welsh nationalist party leading the
visually challenged” ! The Welsh version is more alliterative "Y Blaid yn
blaenori y dall"
[11] “diadell yn bwysicach na diwylliant a
buches yn bwysichach na buchedd”
[12] Accounts available for last year’s Eisteddfod, which cost a similar amount to this year’s, show that over 90% of revenue for the festival was raised from a limited number of sources:
(i) tickets and admission £487,000, (ii) revenue from stalls/stands £352,000, (iii)broadcasting rights £300,000,
(iv) contributions from local authorities £316,000, (v) local fund £272,000, and (vi) sponsorship £359,000. In addition to income relating to individidual annual Eisteddfodau, the festival benefits from a general annual grant from the
Welsh Language Board of just under £300,000.
[13] Since 1880 the Eisteddfod has been held
outside Wales on six occasions: London (1887, 1909); Liverpool (1884, 1900,
1929); and Birkenhead (1917 - when Hedd Wyn was awarded the Chair
posthumously).
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