As Jupiter mentions, the festival suffered from one major problem: a timing snafu in the main ritual. As I understand it, the festival staff planned for a small crowd, then were surprised by a large number of late registrations. The average length of time spent at each ritual station in rehearsal, according to one cast member, was 20 minutes. In the actual ritual, each station took 45. What the program billed as a two-hour ritual took five hours, with a two-hour dumb supper following.
However, judging from the words of Executive Ritual Director Debbie Hudson at closing circle, the festival staff recognizes its timing mistake and plans to learn from it. I myself didn't find the main ritual too onerous, but I was warmly dressed and am relatively spry. At future festivals, the staff might consider providing more facilities for attendees who aren't so nimble. The site, which I would argue toward keeping, doesn't lend itself to automobiles, but some kind of bicycle carts, rickshaws or golf carts might provide an alternative to walking.
Besides these difficulties, Hecate's Sickle impressed me.
To begin with, the Sickle staff must be adept weather witches. We had some of the best weather I've ever seen for the Samhain weekend in the Northwest: blue skies touched with milky clouds, frosty mornings giving way to apple-mellow afternoons. The rain hung back until just after closing circle, when a downpour fell. (Good thing, too - the main ritual would have been gruesome had it rained.) And I found the site very Celtic, dotted with bogs lined with rushes.
The Celtic gods remain more mysterious than the Roman or Norse; we have less information about them, that information filtered through Christian transcribers. I liked that the festival's Saturday morning activity, making tokens for the god-forms linked to our respective clans, helped me learn and recall enough about the Celtic gods that I could fully take part in the festival.
I liked too the interwoven structure of the festival. Each of our clans was linked to a particular wood - holly, vine, fir, hazel, oak, elder or willow - as well as to a god. The gods were linked to "The Riddle of Samhain," a set of riddles based on the Song of Amergin that we were given at festival's beginning. The riddles threaded through the main ritual, and I liked the resulting sense of underlying theme. I also wish to commend the ritual script, which rang very Celtic and very emotionally true.
I enjoyed the Skyclad Circle, led by Eric Lethe and Karin Feddersen, and though it was rather tightly packed I felt it raised a lot of energy. But for me, the Danse Macabre, led by the Bean Sidhe (Theresa Wilson) Saturday at noon, really began the festival. The Danse effectively put me into trance space, and Bean Sidhe was a tireless dancer, eerie in her black veil.
Despite the timing problems, I also feel the main ritual shone. I liked the effect of the candle-lanterns lining the paths and of the candles, torches and Christmas lights decorating the shrines. I found the ritual cast nearly uniformly superb, but I would single out for praise Herne (John Chamberlin) and his consort. They got me in touch with intense, warming sexual energy, in a way that truly moved me - I cried, and I'm usually not that susceptible. I also appreciated their mini-oracle, in which I felt Herne and the Mother very present, answering questions in a fashion both subtle and deep.
Also very present felt Lugh (Eric Lethe), Keridwen (Karin Feddersen), Danu (Paige Foster), and Epona (Maren Ulberg). I appreciated that, unlike the god forms who ended their stations in silent meditation, Epona posed questions and got us talking. I met neither Arianrhod (Terri Jones), who reigned over the three-fold station's middle path, nor Bridghid (Debbie Hudson), who ruled the near path, but my companions found their experiences in those shrines profound.
Instead, like Jupiter, I took the far path, the station of the Morrigan (Louise Foster) and Dagda (John-Paul Nelson). Again like Jupiter, I must admit I wondered about the questions posed me. The gods have a right to confuse us, but I felt that nearly every answer I gave was deemed wrong just because I gave it, and that if I'd given the opposite answer it would have been wrong too. This impression frustrated me. However, this feeling of willful confusion might have been peculiar to myself. Perhaps I am a particularly contrary person, reasonably challenged by the Battle-Crow and Father.
Some pleasures of the main ritual were unplanned. As my clan's god, Arawn (Ian Marlow), led us back to the firepit, we made wolf-calls in honor of His wolves, and the wolves of nearby Wolfhaven answered us. The ritual energy also called to the area at least one bear, which encouraged the Bean Sidhe, who lay in wait between two stations, to end her ritual quite close to Lugh.
After the main ritual, the rite of release proved somewhat schizophrenic, mostly because of the late hour and the group's hunger and exhaustion. Many spoke eloquently; others seemed too spent to honor the dead. To my mind, some frivolous candle-dedications marred this ritual.
The dumb supper also suffered from the late hour. Numerous festivalgoers fell asleep over their food. Few could properly appreciate the last ritual scene, which culminated in the Holly King, Arawn, killing the Oak King, Lugh.
Despite its flaws, however, Hecate's Sickle 1996 shone. I only expect better when I attend next year.
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