MCCS BA Joint Honours Web Portfolio

The sound of a baby babbling fills the air, while it’s Mother gives a double sly eye ceremonial sweep from one side of the barn, where we start the celebrations, to the other side, a layer of bliss that coddles the mind in fullness. A feeling of camaraderie exists in the tent, as raised brows and chuckles punctuate the air where people begin to sip their drinks, reminiscent of a gaggle of horses just nearing the watering hole (the bar).

Folks respond with oohs to the sound of singing foxes saying, “Gatherings at 5 pm to 6 p.m., getting suspiciously red in the costume department, followed by 6 pm to 7 p.m., the garter-making workshop. ” It is all just brightened by bubble gum blue toilet cubicles, mesmerising in their availability for a day carnival. Next “Gatherings from 5 PM to 6 PM, with vibrant costumes, followed by a garter-making workshop from 6 PM to 7 PM.” Bubblegum blue toilet cubicles add a playful touch to the festival, showcasing the organizers’ intention to welcome everyone. All walks of life. The air is filled with the fragrance of tulips and colourful bouquets near the plentiful seating.

DURING MY RESEARCH ON DANCE AND WORKING-CLASS THEATRE, I STUMBLED INTO THE CARNIVAL WORMHOLE AND MET LUPA, A CARNIVAL FACILITATOR AND BRISTOL’S PAGAN WITCH.

Due to making the horrifying decision to have an abortion six months ago, and balancing university, essay writing, job, therapy, and making time to be a silly goose, there wasn’t enough time in the day. It’s just like the steam of years shining in platform boots had seeped out and bled across my map, the potential crunched under my weary feet with the glint of a contained space, waiting room. Now, emerging from the grief as a somehow more resilient, yet exhausted Woman, I was holding space for a rebirth of class consciousness that a £15 festival ticket would slot in nicely.

Carnival lasts for one day in Solstice and is about testing the boundaries and playing about different ways of being for 250 people attending.

Two years ago, Lupa Lucrezia Chiarle, in her 30’s and working as an artist and carer and Co-director of Carnival in the Undergrowth, began her journey to reconnect with her past, which had once been a target for her cousin’s football. She was offered the proverbial olive branch of figure skating, marking the start of her creative exploration and a task of questioning.

Similarly, footwork dancers began to notice the diverse shapes and forms of all the bodies surrounding them. Lupa emphasises that this process allows individuals to develop a new awareness of how they want to relate to themselves and to others and says people get a chance to develop awareness of “how they want to be in a new way with themselves and with others.”

This new section of the website explores the author’s concept of healthy energy. The photos I present were taken in chaotic collectives where I had the privilege of sharing dance, finding the rhythm and seeing the floor hold bodies of family like a net. 

“You haven’t talked much tonight. Why haven’t you spoke?” The grunting man said. I’m still reeling from everything. But I’ve learned from it, namely that one group of people or community doesn’t have anything to do with spirituality necessarily and invites us to rethink the body’s capabilities, looking down at everything from birds eye view.

We both stumbled into something ancient, something waiting for us in the rhythm of Carnival. We both resonated with a tradition that honors the power of ability in movement. We both connected to a practice that, for generations, has marked the threshold between what has been and what could be. In this moment, a transformation occurs — the masks are donned, the music swells, and the rules are relaxed. It creates a collective sense of freedom to be different, to extend ourselves beyond societal expectations. This is more than just a celebration; it’s a ceremony. It allows us to transition into a new cycle together, exploring how we might live, play, and envision our lives differently, if only for a brief time.

Through rave, Lupa giddily responds that she still has an appetite for, we are given the opportunity to shape our healthy energy, gaining the radical wisdom of mid-15th-century Rome. If you take carnival in the sense of places of liberation, and rebelling against the norm, simultaneously using masquerade to represent different classes, it brings powerful tools of self-discovery, so too did footwork.

Every Carnival IS its own story. But generally speaking, probably all carnivals and all dances share the common trait; you’re part of the community, and that’s your moment together. it becomes a powerful tool for self-discovery. In the same way, footwork can be seen as a manifestation of this healthy energy.

 I can only speak for myself here and say I understand the labour of love and the cost of freedom and resonate with Lupa’s losses deeply. We both became a part of this community, just as dance music unites different feelings. I decided to embrace the feeling of emptiness and exhaustion from the very real abortion would pass, and it wasn’t as terrifying when I understood, as the footwork legend DJ Rashad says, it is ”because we feel.”