{"id":403,"date":"2021-05-28T11:00:48","date_gmt":"2021-05-28T10:00:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/libraryblogs.is.ed.ac.uk\/sssa\/?p=403"},"modified":"2021-05-27T16:29:37","modified_gmt":"2021-05-27T15:29:37","slug":"object-8","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/libraryblogs.is.ed.ac.uk\/sssa\/object-8\/","title":{"rendered":"SSSA in 70 Objects: “No Winder You Canna Catch Fish”"},"content":{"rendered":"

Response by: Holly Graham<\/h2>\n

Recording: Up Helly Aa peats replaced by tar barrels<\/a><\/h2>\n

Contributor: Katie Laurenson<\/h2>\n

Fieldworker: Elizabeth Neilson<\/h2>\n

Reference: SA1961.89.B74<\/a><\/h2>\n

<\/h2>\n
\"\"

\u00a9 Gaada<\/p><\/div>\n

My chosen object is a<\/span>\u00a0short audio extract<\/span>,\u00a0<\/span>an excerpt of a longer oral history interview with Shetlander<\/span>, Katie Lau<\/span>renson;<\/span>\u00a0held within the School of Scottish Studies online collection of archive audio<\/span>. I came across it\u00a0<\/span>while<\/span>\u00a0delving through a<\/span>nother<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>gathering<\/span>\u00a0of materials that has<\/span>\u00a0become an\u00a0<\/span>archive\u00a0<\/span>collection\u00a0<\/span>in\u00a0<\/span>its<\/span>\u00a0own right<\/span>, hosted online by\u00a0<\/span>Shetland-based art space G<\/a><\/span>aada<\/span>. Over the past year or so, G<\/span>aada<\/span>\u00a0have been working<\/span>\u00a0closely<\/span>\u00a0with local activist group Up Helly Aa for Aa (UHA4A) to collect\u00a0<\/span>a range of matter<\/span>\u00a0that\u00a0<\/span>together\u00a0<\/span>tell<\/span>s<\/span>\u00a0a story of the island\u2019s annual local fire festival and its historic exclusion of women. <\/span><\/p>\n

This assemblage of scanne<\/span>d press-cuttings, screen-shots of<\/span>\u00a0Facebook posts, drawings, videos, photographs and more, exists as a Google drive of digitised ephemera<\/span>, documentation and artworks<\/span>\u00a0built collaboratively with contributions from UHA4A members.\u00a0<\/span>I had been invited<\/span>, alongside a small selection of other artists,<\/span>\u00a0to explore this collection and to develop some accompanying artwork in the form of a flag design, and\u00a0<\/span>pieces for a display unit<\/span>\u00a0\u2013 outdoor structures that could allow for socially distanced vie<\/span>wing in the context of Covid19. A<\/span>\u00a0selection of\u00a0<\/span>these artworks were later\u00a0<\/span>donated to Glasgow Women\u2019s Library<\/span>.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As I read\u00a0<\/span>and surveyed images, a picture of the festival and what it meant to local people built in my mind<\/span>\u00a0–\u00a0<\/span>f<\/span>irearms, tar barrels, guizing, Vikings, community<\/span>.<\/span>\u00a0The earliest festivals were \u201ca highly ritualised form of mis-rule governed by the people\u201d according to writer Callum G. Brown (Up-Helly-Aa: Custom, Culture and Community in Shetland<\/em>, 1998); a show\u00a0<\/span>of what Brydon Leslie calls \u201cdisruption, devilment, and above all, flame\u201d (New Shetlander<\/em>, 2011). Brian Smith debunks the authenticity of what he terms the \u2018bogus name \u201cUp Helly Aa\u201d\u2019 and the festival\u2019s links to Viking history, saying its inventors \u2013 young working men in Lerwick \u2013 \u2018had their tongues firmly in their cheeks\u2019 (The Shetland Times,<\/em> 1993). Recent article headlines from local papers\u00a0<\/span>jostle and\u00a0<\/span>joust: \u2018Is Up-Helly-A\u2019 brazenly sexist, or is \u2018the way it\u2019s always been\u2019 still acceptable?\u2019 asks Peter Johnson in a 2017 issue of The Shetland Times<\/em>;\u00a0<\/span>there\u2019s a\u00a0<\/span>\u2018Burning desire for change\u2019 says Zara Pennington for The Orkney News<\/em> in 2018; \u2018Leave it as it is\u2019 reads the opener of a letter from Lerwick resident Jolene Tindall for The Shetland Times<\/em> in a year later; \u2018Up Helly Aa sexism under the spotlight\u2019 reads a headline of a 2020 Sunday Times<\/em> article written by Shetlander Sally Huband; \u2018They call us backward\u2019 claims a staunch member of the \u2018remain the same\u2019 camp in a short video feature by Huck Magazine<\/em> posted on their site in the same year.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

There was a lot to look thro<\/span>ugh, and I spent a number hours-<\/span>worth of screen-time squinting at and zooming in on<\/span>\u00a0minute<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>columns<\/span>\u00a0of newspaper text<\/span>, lined by pixelated image boarders.\u00a0<\/span>The link to\u00a0<\/span>Katie\u2019s sound file<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>on<\/span>\u00a0the School of Scottish Studies<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>website\u00a0<\/span>stood out to me as one of the only items\u00a0<\/span>in the Google drive\u00a0<\/span>present existing in audio format. It was a welcom<\/span>e pause from the glowing screen and<\/span>\u00a0I closed my eyes\u00a0<\/span>while I<\/span>\u00a0listened. Katie\u2019s lilting narrative told of<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>roots of the festival, steeped in sun-worship rituals. She spoke of flaming tar barrels and the healing properties of tar. She told her own anecdotes of being chastised for wandering to a neighbour\u2019s house via a forbidden route.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"

Postcards by Holly Graham<\/p><\/div>\n

I often work with audio. I\u2019m interested in story-telling and how individual voices present singular subject views, t<\/span>hat listened to along-<\/span>side others, can layer to build complex and nuanced narra<\/span>tives, versions of histories. I was intrigued by Katie\u2019s recounting of\u00a0<\/span>her<\/span>\u00a0journey to the neighbour\u2019s house and of how that mapped onto histories of the Up Helly Aa procession route, steeped in\u00a0<\/span>the superstitious belief<\/span>\u00a0that th<\/span>ere was only one correct direction to move. Through Katie I learnt vocabulary that was new to me<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u2013 \u2018sungaits\u2019, the way of the sun, also known as clockwise; and \u2018widdergaits\u2019, against the sun, or anticlockwise. She laughed at what \u2018the old folks\u2019 would say if they saw the present day Lerwick Up Helly Aa procession, weaving a figure of eight back and forth through the town centre. They\u2019d think it was bad luck to travel in such a direction \u2013 they\u2019d say \u2018no\u00a0<\/span>winder you canna catch fish\u2019. I liked this idea of tradition, superstition, direction, push-back and\u00a0<\/span>change.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

From what I\u2019d read in the G<\/span>aada<\/span>\u00a0and UHA4A\u00a0<\/span>collections of text,\u00a0<\/span>the main argument against women\u2019s participation in the annual procession was one founded in tradition, in the notion that things had not changed before and should therefore not change now. But in light of Katie\u2019s memories of the festival this case falls short.\u00a0<\/span>Katie was speaking in 1961, and her voice reaches us intact 60 years later, to speak\u00a0<\/span>some home truths\u00a0<\/span>to \u2018this modern Up Helly Aa that you see nowadays\u2019.\u00a0<\/span>And while speaking to us from the 20th century,\u00a0<\/span>Katie was born in 1890, just 9 years the first organised torch-light procession took place in Lerwick.\u00a0<\/span>Viewed through the span of a life and a voice \u2013 human for scale \u2013 we see the festival past as not so old, not so distant and concrete, impervious to change.\u00a0<\/span>We make traditions<\/span>\u00a0collectively, colla<\/span>boratively. They are often built<\/span>\u00a0around\u00a0<\/span>small truths that in turn expand<\/span>\u00a0foam-like<\/span>\u00a0to form\u00a0<\/span>myths, and we pack further myths in around them<\/span>, insulatory protective wrapping to transport them<\/span>. They\u00a0<\/span>morph and change with time. Why would we not\u00a0<\/span>desire our traditions to be flexible enough to accommodate us, and to suit us societally as we<\/span>\u00a0move and shift<\/span>, rather than remaining rigid restraints that constri<\/span>ct our collective growth?<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The work I made for the project pivoted around<\/span>\u00a0a verbatim poem I assembled from Katie\u2019s words, channelling<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>the push and pull, forward and backward notions held by the terms \u2018sungaits\u2019 and \u2018widdergaits\u2019. The flag featured a mass of spiralling ribbons, and the two words \u2013 one on either face \u2013 constructed from these ribbons and enmeshed within them. The display case held a collection of prints: a collage of newspaper headlines, a\u00a0<\/span>dictionary definition of \u2018widder-\u2019, screenshots of a subtitled documentary on the festival and it\u2019s accompanying calls for change. I also worked with other fragments of archive from the Scottish School of Studies collection<\/span>;<\/span> field recordings of songs sung and music played in the processions, recorded by Peter R. Cooke in 1982 [SA1982.010.011<\/a>]<\/span>. <\/span><\/p>\n