This past weekend found me making the brief trek over the border into Wisconsin for a much-anticipated trip to the Bristol Renaissance Faire. The last time I had been to the faire was a few years back, and I was eager to see what the 2008 incarnation would look like. I parked my car and strolled up the hilly field, through the gated archway, and back into the Middle Ages.
If the forested glen I had entered wasn't actually a renaissance-era village, it was a very convincing facsimile. Old-world shops and houses stood nestled between the trees, and throngs of villagers strolled about dressed in what looked to be the height of fashion four centuries ago. Sting music floated through the air and the aroma of cooking food hit my nostrils, and I found myself in front of booths offering everything from roasted turkey legs to marinated mushrooms, fruit-filled crepes, and vegetable tempura. Satisfying myself with a beverage for the meantime, I followed the sounds of cheers and shouts to a ring of people in the center of the square.
In the midst of the ring, a young man swirled and cracked a long whip, snapping the end of it in a rhythmic motion to produce a sound like a firecracker. After some jokes and more demonstration, a volunteer was procured from the audience and give elbow-length rubber gloves and two flowers, which he held out to either side at arms length. The whip-wielder proceeded to amaze the crowd by snapping the flowers in half from several yards away with casual cracks of the whip, and then snapped the remaining stems in half to the consternation of the volunteer and delight of the audience.
We continued on to shops displaying some interesting, hand-made wood sculpture, then took in a demonstration on glass blowing, where freshly-formed pieces were being inserted and removed from a fiery-hot oven. The resulting objects were colorful, exquisitely-formed glass work that astonished us onlookers with their hand-made beauty.
A large crowd was cheering for an on-stage entertainer in mid-performance, and just beyond them I noticed the always-humorous "Vegetable Justice" booth, where a man in fake stocks held his head and hand through holes in a wooden wall and heckled fair-goers as they hurled tomatoes at him from a few yards away. The heckler succeeded in riling people up through light-hearted wisecracks about their appearance, and the crowd cheered when one of the tomatoes found its mark.
I stopped at a booth just beyond Vegetable Justice and purchased a dill pickle from a maiden vending them from a large barrel. Watching the festivities unfolding around me,m I saw a marble statue that turned out to be a young women painted and costumed in white from head to toe. her movements were slow and subtle, and she surprised several passersby, a couple of whom had their pictures taken with her. I saw that the joust was not yet in session, and I browsed through some fascinating scuptures of strange, shrunken head and amiable forest gnomes. Fairies and warlocks mingles about with people in more contemporary dress, and a fellow who may have been a knight strolled by with a hooded falcon perched on his wrist.
The sound of trumpets rang out, and I sat and watched as a cavalcade paraded by me, a man in front beating a drum as others with long spears marched behind him. I continued on before stopping to take in some theatre, where lively troupe performed some comedy to the amusement of the crowd from a two-story stage set. I took in a stilt walker and giant, costumed jester on my final round of the village. On my way out, some exquisite music caught my ear, and I stopped to take in some harp music from a maiden sitting beside a tree. Upon leaving, I felt pleased that the faire had preserved the magic that had drawn me in the past, and I resolved that I wouldn't let so much time pass before my next visit.
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If the forested glen I had entered wasn't actually a renaissance-era village, it was a very convincing facsimile. Old-world shops and houses stood nestled between the trees, and throngs of villagers strolled about dressed in what looked to be the height of fashion four centuries ago. Sting music floated through the air and the aroma of cooking food hit my nostrils, and I found myself in front of booths offering everything from roasted turkey legs to marinated mushrooms, fruit-filled crepes, and vegetable tempura. Satisfying myself with a beverage for the meantime, I followed the sounds of cheers and shouts to a ring of people in the center of the square.
In the midst of the ring, a young man swirled and cracked a long whip, snapping the end of it in a rhythmic motion to produce a sound like a firecracker. After some jokes and more demonstration, a volunteer was procured from the audience and give elbow-length rubber gloves and two flowers, which he held out to either side at arms length. The whip-wielder proceeded to amaze the crowd by snapping the flowers in half from several yards away with casual cracks of the whip, and then snapped the remaining stems in half to the consternation of the volunteer and delight of the audience.
We continued on to shops displaying some interesting, hand-made wood sculpture, then took in a demonstration on glass blowing, where freshly-formed pieces were being inserted and removed from a fiery-hot oven. The resulting objects were colorful, exquisitely-formed glass work that astonished us onlookers with their hand-made beauty.
A large crowd was cheering for an on-stage entertainer in mid-performance, and just beyond them I noticed the always-humorous "Vegetable Justice" booth, where a man in fake stocks held his head and hand through holes in a wooden wall and heckled fair-goers as they hurled tomatoes at him from a few yards away. The heckler succeeded in riling people up through light-hearted wisecracks about their appearance, and the crowd cheered when one of the tomatoes found its mark.
I stopped at a booth just beyond Vegetable Justice and purchased a dill pickle from a maiden vending them from a large barrel. Watching the festivities unfolding around me,m I saw a marble statue that turned out to be a young women painted and costumed in white from head to toe. her movements were slow and subtle, and she surprised several passersby, a couple of whom had their pictures taken with her. I saw that the joust was not yet in session, and I browsed through some fascinating scuptures of strange, shrunken head and amiable forest gnomes. Fairies and warlocks mingles about with people in more contemporary dress, and a fellow who may have been a knight strolled by with a hooded falcon perched on his wrist.
The sound of trumpets rang out, and I sat and watched as a cavalcade paraded by me, a man in front beating a drum as others with long spears marched behind him. I continued on before stopping to take in some theatre, where lively troupe performed some comedy to the amusement of the crowd from a two-story stage set. I took in a stilt walker and giant, costumed jester on my final round of the village. On my way out, some exquisite music caught my ear, and I stopped to take in some harp music from a maiden sitting beside a tree. Upon leaving, I felt pleased that the faire had preserved the magic that had drawn me in the past, and I resolved that I wouldn't let so much time pass before my next visit.
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