What Is Morris?

We could start off with all sorts of blather about Tradition, and History, and Ritual; about bells and sticks and wavers; about steps and capers; or, on the other hand, we could get right down to what the morris really is:

A chance to perform in the street, to show off, to be loud or silly or raucous, to violate normal standards of behavior and not only get away with it but be applauded for it.

That, for me, is what it all comes down to. Not being normal. In public. For an audience.

What's the catch? None but the usual. In the words of The Who, "Messiahs pointed to the door, but no one had the guts to leave the temple." No one wants to look ridiculous, and no one can contemplate taking up the morris without fearing that they will look ridiculous.

After all, it sounds ridiculous. The morris is practically impossible to describe in a way that makes it seem anything other than stupid. Watch as I demonstrate:

Imagine six men, wearing white shirts and trousers, decorated with ribbons, and bells on their legs. They stand in a two-by-three formation. A musician, holding a fiddle or squeezebox, begins to play a tune. The six others begin a vigorous, athletic dance, moving up and down, back and forth, gesturing with big white handkerchiefs in their hands while performing spectacular leaps and capers. In another dance, they put away the handkerchiefs and clash yard-long wooden sticks with one another, in rhythm with the music. What are they doing? Morris dancing.

You see? It sounds dreadful. Men? Dancing? Waving hankies? You're probably falling over laughing right now. The fact that it's no longer exclusively a male activity (and, in fact, never really was) doesn't help much.

That's the trouble with the morris. Describing it is like describing pizza: "Um, well, it's a sort of a pie. Made with bread dough. Flat. And it has tomatoes on it. And cheese. And other stuff." When you get right down to describing pizza, if you've never experienced it before, it sounds revolting. Until you bite into one. And until you see morris dancing done, and done well, any attempt to describe it makes it sound pathetic.

Web-based movies of morris dancing are a poor substitute for being there, but better than nothing. My current favorite is this one, taken on the American Travelling Morrice's England tour in 2006, on YouTube:

Still pictures are an even worse substitute for being there, but still better than nothing. Below is a picture of the Commonwealth Morris Men performing in Boston in 1996; here are some more photos.

A better option is to watch a performance or to visit a practice (email me for information on teams in Syracuse and elsewhere in the world). See for yourself what the morris is about, and why mere words don't convey the reason people get addicted to it.

But if you must read more about it first, thereby poisoning your mind against ever appreciating the morris, select here.