Scottish Step Dancing By Maggie Moore Published by the Scottish Arts Council, 1995 Scottish step dancing - Scotland was and is famous for its dancing, and the variety of dance styles which are represented here is testimony to the richness of our Scottish dance heritage. It is my contention that the step-dancing found in Cape Breton, should also be included under the broad umbrella of Scottish traditions of dance and that its revival in Scotland in the past few years is an exciting and welcome development. The recent lively debate regarding both the origin of, and indeed the very name, "Cape Breton" step-dancing, is very understandable, since during the past eighty years or so, it has hardly been visible in Scotland. I hope that my paper will help shed some light on its true identity. The Cape Bretoners themselves, and indeed the Gaelic communities in other parts of Canada, have never been in doubt that step-dancing came from Scotland. For the purposes of this talk, and to distinguish it from the other paper simply entitled "Step-Dancing," I will sometimes use the Cape Breton label, but I hope very soon people will feel comfortable with the idea that the step-dancing so described, is truly Scottish, and does not require this label. There are two counts on which I believe the rediscovery and indeed the very existence of Cape Breton step-dancing is important to us here in Scotland. Firstly it enables us to take a fresh look at the evolution of dance in Scotland in the last two hundred years by contrasting it with the development of the same dancform in the Gaelic communities in Cape Breton; and secondly the more informal and less regulated approach that exists within Cape Breton may provide an alternative model for future dance development in Scotland. Before discussing the current state of step-dancing in Cape Breton, I'd like to give a brief description of how it came to be there are all and why it has continued in such a healthy way in the intervening period. Towards the end of the eighteenth century and during the first half of the nineteenth century large numbers of Scots went abroad either willingly to seek a better life or unwillingly as part of the infamous Highland Clearances. Many Scots settled in Canada, and Cape Breton Island in eastern Nova Scotia received around 30,000 Gaelic-speaking Highlanders. Except for a small French enclave in the north-west and parts of eastern Cape Breton, the majority of the island was settled by Gaels, and even today the sheer concentration of Highland names in many parts is quite astonishing - MacDonald, MacKenzie, MacNeal, MacInnes and many more. Stanford Reid in his book The Scottish Tradition in Canada states that: Parts of eastern Nova Scotia, particularly Cape Breton Island, became as Gaelic in speech and outlook as the Highlands themselves.(1) I believe it is this phenomenon which has resulted in the survival of much of the old culture. That these communities have remained intact for nearly two hundred years is due both to Cape Breton's relative isolation from the rest of Canada and to the fact that the area did not attract later incomers. Travel within Cape Breton was very restricted up to the 1940s due to the rough roads and lack of motorised transport. Also the lack of electricity meant that they weren't being exposed to external influences on radio and gramophone, and they they had to make their own entertainment. What did these folk bring with them from Scotland as well as their indefatigable spirit in conquering the difficult new terrain? Well, they brought their Gaelic language in song and story, their music and their dance. This has been passed down in a largely oral fashion from one generation to the next and Cape Bretoners are particularly proud of their own genealogy. The old style Scottish music and step-dancing is intrinsically linked, and the love of them runs in families. In the fascinating book, The Cape Breton Ceilidh, compiled and edited by Allister MacGillavray, many interviews with old and young Cape Bretoners give a vivid account of the passing down of the tradition from the earliest Scottish settlers. There are many examples of noted dancers and dancing-masters arriving from Scotland at the beginning of the 19th century who passed on their skills to their descendants and others in the community--Allan 'The Dancer' MacMillan came from Lochaber in 1817 and taught dancing in Judique and Creignish; Angus 'Ban' MacDougall came from Moidart in 1812 and settled in West Lake in Inverness County; John Kennedy came from Canna in 1790 and taught in Broad Cove. His son Archie was a famous dancer, as was his grandson Ranald (1870-1958) and his great-grand-daughter Mary Kennedy, who is still living in Broad Cove. The Beatons of Mabou Coal Mines were famout step-dancers and fiddlers. Appendix A shows just a tiny part of their family tree. Mary MacDonald was born in Scotland in 1795. She was a renowned danc in Scotland, and after emigrating to Cape Breton, she started a dancing school in MacKinnon's Brook. Two of her sons, Alexander Beaton, born in 1837 and Angus, born 1823, were both revered step-dancers and fiddlers, and in all the succeeding generations there have been highly respected musicians and dancers. In 1987, Angus Dan Beaton talked about his father, 'Curly Sandy' Beaton, who was considered to be one of the best step-dancers in his day in that part of Inverness County: My father lived near his aunt, Catherine Beaton, and it was her that taught him to dance. Her father was Alexander Beaton. So, perhaps Catherine would be humming the tunes and showing the steps to my father. Dancing was in those people, so they say it once and that was all that was needed. Those people all loved music.(2) Fiddler, Neil Archie Beaton, was interviewed seven years ago: This Angus was my grandfather and he taught school in Mabou Coal Mines where he was born. He was still a young man when a lot of young fellows used to come to the house to learn step-dancing. They'd pay for their lessons by cutting firewood for him for the winter. The boys would take a couple of lessons and then they'd make for the woods. My grandfather would go out to see how they were doing and those boys would be step-dancing on the stumps of the trees and the snow would be packed all around. One fellow would be pretending to play the fiddle.(2) Before we leave the Beatons, Angus Dan finished off his interview talking about his grand-nephew: Then there's Donald Angus Beaton's grandson, Rodney MacDonald in Mabou. He dances. It's strange how strong inheritance is. Dancing is in the blood and will go from one generatio to the other.(2) Rodney MacDonald is 22. He's a great young dancer and was one of the tutors that taught me at the Gaelic College in Cape Breton this summer. Of course, this passing down of talents and skills from generation to generation is not unique to Cape Breton, but is more a reflection of the strength of their Gaelic heritage. It can equally well be seen in Scotland where there are families which have been famous for generations for their piping, or their singing or indeed their dancing. One such family is that of Anna Bain, from Leslie in Fife. She is the eighth generation of dance-teacher in her family and her mother, Sheila MacKay remembers being taught step-dancing by her own mother in the 1920's. I met Sheila and Anna earlier this year, and when Sheila saw me performing Cape Breton step-dancing, her immediate reaction was: I can do that. That's the same as I learnt when I was young. and to my delight she proceeded to dance some of the steps that I had been doing myself. But what were the dances that these early emigrants took from the old country to Cape Breton nearly two hundred years ago? Understandably they were the danc which were popular in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland at the time of their departure and so we are able to cross-reference information from Cape Breton with sources in Scotland. Mr. and Mrs. Flett, in their book Traditional Dancing in Scotland, were in no doubt about both the style and the popularity of the old Reels. I quote: ... only Reels are truly indigenous to Scotland. Reels of one sort or another were known in every district of Scotland, in all classes of society, and were particularly popular in the crofting regions; in these latter regions most dancing took place in the kitchens of the croft houses, and Reels, with their compact traveling figures and well-contrasted periods of vigorous stepping, were ideally suited to the restricted dancing-spaces available.(3) The Fletts go on to explain that even as late as the end of the 19th century, the Scotch Reel was so popular in the West Highlands and Western Isles, that on many occasions it was almost the only dance performed. Examples are given of dances in Glen Roy in Lochaber in 1885 and in Glen Urquhart at the turn of the century where it would be Scotch Reel upon Scotch Reel... with the Highland Schottische, and perhaps Flowers of Edinburgh... but chiefly these Reels all the time.(3) In Cape Breton, this same dance is called the 'Scotch Four' or the 'Single Four,' and there are many references to it in the interviews in Allister MacGillivray's book, A Cape Breton Ceilidh. There are also references to the eight-hand reel, which was known in Scotland as the wild eight or the 'Big Reel.' At one time, the Scotch Reel was the dance--the one in which to do your steps, to show how good you were, to match your steps to the particular tune that the fiddler or piper was playing to respond to the exciting rhythms of strathspeys and reels. It was characterised by alternate travelling and setting on the spot, during all of which the percussive marking out of the tune, the stepping, continued. At this point you may be wondering why I am concentrating on a social dance for four people, which is not often danced now, and not the more widely recognized solo step-dancing, but it is simply because today's solo step-dancing developed out of the stepping within the old reels. It is this fact which defines step-dancing in Cape Breton today and also goes some way to explain why it had almost died out in Scotland until very recently. You see, at the same time as the old Reels were taken over from Scotland, there was a body of more formal solo step-dances, which also went over with the early settlers. These include the 'Fling,' 'Seann Truibhas,' 'Flowers of Edinburgh,' 'Tullochgorum,' 'Jackie Tar,' 'Irish Washerwoman,' and 'Princess Royal.' These dances were taught by the early dancing-masters, but their complexity and the requirement to dance the steps in a prescribed order, meant that they had to be learnt, and eventually feewr and fewer people danced them. Margaret Gillis from South West Margaree is perhaps one of the few people in Cape Breton who can still dance some of these old step-dances. She learnt them from her father, John Alex (1880-1975), who learnt them from his father, Allan, who learnt them from his father, Alexander, who had emigrated from Morar in Scotland in 1826 and whose profession both in Scotland and in Cape Breton was that of dancing-master. Margaret Gillis said: I think the Flowers of Edinburgh was one of the dances in Scotland, and you'd have the Jacky Tar and all the hornpipes that were danced individually. There was form to it, a format. Even the Seann Truibhas was a different dance then than the one that they d oin Highland dancing today.(2) The relatively greater freedom of expression in choosing and dancing steps, which was available in the context of the old Reels, became the vehicle for solo dancing also, and as a result solo step-dancing in Cape Breton today consists almost entirely of extemporised strathspeys and reels. Whereas in Scotland a different evolution was occurring. The introduction of country dances from England produced a smoothing out of travelling steps and a greater emphasis being placed on the figures of the dance rather than on the stepping, which was the fundamental component of the old Reels. An Englishman by the name of Colonel Thornton, who was touring in the Highlands about the year 1804, remarked: They were dancing a country-dance when we entered. The company consisted of about fourteen couples, who all danced the Glen Orgue kick. I have observed, that every district of the Highlands has some peculiar cut; and they all shuffle in such a manner as to make the noise of their feet keep exact time. Though this is not the fashionable style of dancing, yet, with such dancers, it had not a bad effect.(3) Additionally, during the 19th century, the old solo step-dances were being danced regularly in competition at Highland Games and in performance at concerts, and the style became ever more open and balletic perhaps to suit the larger arena. The introduction about the turn of the century of soft-soled dancing-shoes hastened this change in style, so that what we see now in modern Highland dancing is the direct descendant of the old step-dances. When the 80-year-old James Neill, the respected Angus dance-master, was asked in 1908 about the new fashion, he replied: It is more scientific, but it is not so Highland, so to speak. The steps they dance are not the real Highland steps.(4) There are still a few people, like Sheila MacKay and Mary McHarg (of Airth) in Scotland, and Margaret Gillis in Cape Breton, who have older versions of today's Highland dances. I would like to ask all those present who have an interest in Scottish solo dancing to address the question of whether we are going to allow these older versions to disappear completely. So to recap, what we had at the beginning of the 19th century was a dance heritage common to both the Gaels who stayed in Scotland and those who emigrated - i.e. the old Reels and the solo step-dances. In Scotland, social changes, especially the contact within which dance was being performed, and the proximity to our English and European neighbours, has produced the rich and varied dance tradition which we now enjoy. In Cape Breton, geographic isolation and social stability has led to a much narrower seam of dancing, which was exposed to very few external influences until very recently. Until the middle of this century, with one notable exception, the lifestyle of the Cape Bretoners remained fairly constant. Their socialising was based on music and dancing in the home, and the old Gaelic custom of visiting and having a party or ceilidh is still very much alive even today. From the :Cape Breton Ceilidh Book, there are many quotes which give an idea of the universality of the music and dancing: When they'd have "bunch dances" or when a crowd would come to the house, there'd be a lot of step-dancing going on - and square sets and Single Fours. They'd gather at different houses particularly where there was a violin. Christena Campbell MacKinnon, Gillis Lake There'd be Scotch Fours and eight-hand reels, and the dance would last till daylight: they'd dance all night! A lot of people would come by horse and wagon but my first cousin, Alex Cummings, would walk from Skye Mountain to Ashfield to a dance and that would be quite a ways. They didn't care as long as they could be dancing. Dan Norman Cummings, Skye Mountain2 The notable exception I talked about was the introduction around the turn of the century of community halls where public dances could be held. Coupled with the importation of Quadrilles from the north-east of the United States, the old Scotch Four lost its pre-eminence at social occasions - house parties, parish picnics, weddings and open-air concerts. In some parts of the island, the more usual way of walking through the figures but in Inverness County, the Quadrille figures were amalgamated with stepping and a wonderfully exuberant form of Square dance has evolved. By the 20th century, the old dancing-schools teaching the formal step-dances had ceased, and most people learnt stepping in their youth just from being exposed to it, hearing the music and not being able to resist dancing to it. Some were taught by a parent or older relative but many learnt simply by imitation, through watching a step and keeping the "music," i.e. the rhythm of it in their heads, until they could practise and perfect it. This ability to learn intricate step-work through imitation, I believe, is similar to learning music by ear rather than from a written score. I was about fifteen or sixteen before I learned to dance. My father influenced me, oh yes - and so did Gerald Tonary. Even after my father diet, I picked up steps from my sister, Florence, who was very quick to learn. She had more steps than I did. She'd go to a concert and if someone made a step that she didn't know, she'd get it very quickly. Margaret MacPhee, New Waterford2 At all events, the best dancers were and still are asked to dance solo and it has to be said that there is a fair degree of good-humoured competition between dancers. The best dancers are considered those who are the neatest and keep their steps small - "close to the floor" is the expression most often used. Lightness on one's feet and a relaxed naturalness is also looked for, as is the ability to dance on one spot. He could "dance on a dime" is considered high praise. Perhaps the most important attribute though, is keeping good time with the fiddler and not only in terms of the main beats of the bar, but in actually matching the rhythms of one's steps with the notes of the particular tune being played. Many of the great dancers are also musicians, and most of the musicians can dance. It is hard to over-emphasise just how closely the music and the dancing is linked. The coming together of a good dancer and a good fiddler produces something greater than the sum of the two parts. But what of the music? Well, for fiddlers and step-dancers alike, their favourite tunes are nearly all from the old Scottish piping repertoire. Well-known tunes like 'Calum Crubach' and 'The High Road to Linton' are played alongside tunes that are rarely heard in Scotland today, like 'Moulin Dubh' and 'Put Me in the Big Chest'; and tunes which in Cape Breton are still being played in their original simple two-parted state, like 'Pretty Marion' and 'Caberfeidh,' have in Scotland been turned into complex competition tunes by the addition of a further 2, 4 or even 6 parts. But why pipe tunes, when the instrumentation today is almost always fiddle and piano? The answer is, of course, that both in Scotland and Cape Breton, it was pipers who traditionally played for dancing. Indeed the last of the old-style pipers, 84-year-old Alex Currie, was still playing for step-dancing as late as the 1970s. However it is not only the repertoire which has remained largely unchanged but also the style of playing the old tunes. The rhythms and tempo required for step-dancing are very well defined - 8 even beats of the par in strathspey time and 2 on-beats and 2 off-beats in the bar for reel time, with the strathspeys being played at 40 bars per minute and the reels at between 52 and 54 bars per minute. It is this speed and unremitting rhythm in strathspey time which produces the excitement and there is almost tangible relief when the musician breaks into reel time. I'm sure there will be many who doubt that strathspeys were ever played this way in Scotland but there is much evidence for believing that this is indeed the case. Margaret Bennet of the School of Scottish Studies made many visits to the Codroy Valley in Newfoundland, an isolated valley with a strong community of Scottish descendants. In her book, The Last Stronghold, she describes finding Gaelic singing and story-telling, old style piping, fiddling and step-dancing still being practiced in the original intimate setting of the ceilidh or house-party. The strathspeys and reels were played exactly like the Cape Bretoners play them today and Allan MacArthur (1884-1971) confirmed that he learnt them from his mother Jenny who was born in Moidart in Scotland. I would also like to quote from e 36th edition of Allan's Ballroom Guide, which gives a fascinating insight into the dancing in Lowland Scotland towards the end of the 19th century. The dances included are Quadrilles, Circle Dances, Country Dances and Scotch Reels and the following is part of the Hints on Dancing: The Scotch Reel, when well danced, has a very pleasing effect, and indeed, nothing can be more agreeable, or lively or brilliant, than the steps which are appropriated to the music. There are two kinds of music to which the Scotch reel is danced, viz. the Reel properly so entitled, and the Strathspey, which is accented in exact resemblance to the Jig. This music is so charming and fascinating in its nature, as to set a whole company on their feet in a moment, and to dance with all their might till it ceases. As I have observed that the dancing should be in strict conformity with the music, it is necessary to accompany the Strathspey by steps of more alacrity than those generally used in other dances. There ought to be little or no bending of the knees used in the steps, as to the rapidity of the music and dancing will not admit of much yielding of the limbs.(5) Ironically perhaps the last twenty years has seen the greatest potential for change in step-dancing in Cape Breton. Concern that there was a generation gap opening up encouraged several well-respected dancers to start regular step-dancing classes. These have proved extremely popular and there is now a new generation of trained young dancers. This has meant that there is a certain degree of formalisation and standardisation starting to creep in, and that the young dancers are perhaps concentrating more on the intricacies of their newly learnt steps and routines, rather than on the music, and the older emphasis of complementing and marrying ones steps to the particular tune being played. Also the increased popularity of Cape Breton music and dancing has raised the profile of many young step-dancers and some of them perhaps view it firstly as a performance art (i.e. to be done in public on a stage) rather than in the more intimate setting of a house-party, where the dancers' role is to accompany the musicians. Tap-dancing shoes are sometimes worn for public performance especially by young girls and this has to raise questions as to what direction step-dancing is going to take in the future. For now though, there are enough of the wonderful older dancers like Willie Fraser, Harvey MacKinnon and Thomas MacDonnell, and younger dancers too like Harvey Beaton, Rodney MacDonald and Lucy MacNeil, to name but a few, who dance in the old-style. As a visitor to Cape Breton during the past two summers, I was struck by the depth of the musical tradition and the sense of community which still exists. House parties consist of gatherings of folk where tunes are played for hours, and when the music becomes irresistible people get up and step-dance. The tunes are inevitably strathspeys and reels, which may sound boring, but it doesn't work out that way. Every player has their own individual style, as does every dancer, and it is the subtlety and person expression which comes out in the music and dance, which gives it variety and interest. Harvey Beaton, who, many Cape Bretoners agree, is the best dancer of his generation, has been teaching week-long step-dancing courses at Sabhal Mor Ostaig on Skye for the past few summers. He has an ever-increasing following and some of his students have now started teaching in Scotland during the rest of the year. Sandra Robertson and Mairi Campbell have, like myself, already visited Cape Breton to study with other teachers and experience the totality of Cape Breton. I would like to recommend that this process be continued and extended to others who are practising in the field. I hope I can speak for the other teachers also, when I say that our motivation comes from the desire to share the joy of this relaxed, informal percussive dance style. The incredible excitement of rattling one's feet in time to Scottish music played in a wild and virgorous manner is hard to convey. Perhaps also there is a feeling deep in many of us that this dancing actually belongs here, and that we belong to it! Ann Johnston who comes to my dance-class in Birnam was told by her grandmother in Dunkeld that her father, Hugh MacDonald, was a wonderful step-dancer and teacher. A friend's granny in Lewis described how, when she was young, they used to meet and step-dance on a particular bridge near Callanish. Gillan Anderson from Larbert describes how her mother, Mary McHarg, leapt out of her chair on seeing Cape Breton step-dancing on television, and proceeded to step away beautifully in exactly the same manner. Sheild MacKay in Fife did exactly the same thing at my step-dance workshop in the spring. These are only a few folk I personally have come across who have memories of step-dancing. How many more might there be in Scotland, even in this, the last decade of the 20th century? I would like to suggest to conference that there is an urgent need for research to be done in Scotland before these precious tradition-bearers are no longer with us. But we need not stop there, let us look to other parts of the world where Scots settled in numbers, and find out what they know of step-dancing, in its extemporised form and in the more formal named dances; also the old Reels and the old Gaelic dramatic dances. Some research has been done in Canada, New Zealand and Australia, but more is required, and quickly. And what of the future development of this wonderful tradition? There are a growing number of workshops for adults throughout the country and young folk are being given the opportunity to experience the older dance forms as part of the excellent Feisean movement. Unfortunately, at present, we in Scotland only have access to teachers of the calibre of Harvey Beaton for one week in the year, and the longer term presence of one or several Cape Breton dancers would give the revival an enormous boost. Given the growing interest and enthusiasm for step-dancing, could a dancer-in-residence type post, which was not confined to just one area of Scotland, be offered to a succession of Cape Breton step-dancers? As importantly, as many people as possible, and especially those who are passing on their relatively newly-acquired skills, should be encouraged and, if necessary, given assistance, to travel to Cape Breton to experience the depth of the music and dance culture which exists there. In conclusion then, I hope that my presentation has gone some way to assuage the fears of people who feel that 'Cape Breton' step-dancing is in some way a foreign import which has nothing to do with Scottish dancing. I hope too that I have been able to convey, at least in part, its appeal, which has as much to do with the irrepressibly lively music it is so closely associated with, as to its unregulated and personally expressive format. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Bibliography The Scottish Tradition in Canada, edited by W. Stanford Reid (McLelland & Stewart 1976) A Cape Breton Ceilidh, compiled and edited by Allister MacGillivray (Sea-Cape Music Ltd. 1988) Traditional Dancing in Scotland, J.P. Flett and T.M. Flett (Routledge & Kegan Paul 1964) Forfar Weekly News (1908) Allan's Ball-Room Guide, circa 1890 (Mozart Allen, Glasgow) ------------------------------------------------------------------------ John Wash - jw@rti.org