The urban terrorists of the Morris world
Boots and bells, feathers and great sticks, Paul gets more than he bargained for.
The following took place in the mid-eighties when I and two colleagues came up with the idea of a local late night show which would go out live. We had no experience, and it showed…
The idea was simple. We would emulate network TV with our own regional late-night show at Border TV. It would be produced and presented by me and Liz Howell with Liam Hamilton producing. We would cleverly integrate controversial topics with a bit of light entertainment. This was our first attempt at such a show.
That week we were stuck for our ‘light entertainment’ segment, until one of us, I forget who, remembered seeing some Morris dancers on the streets of Carlisle. They would be perfect! (Morris Dancing is an old English type of dance from the Middle Ages performed by a group of travelling dancers who would move from village to village).
Border TV’s ‘BIG’ studio was the size of a large living room. To get the feeling of space our set designer has squeezed in 50 people and, in front of them (hiding the fact that they could hardly breath), we put a ‘modesty board’. This was, in fact, just a hardboard wall painted by our handyman a curious colour of grey. What was left of the floor space was taken up by 3 enormous studio cameras, a floor manager, me and Liz.
“How” our technical staff cried out “are you going to fit in a Morris dancing team?”
At this time, ideas that today would have been quickly consigned to the waste bin were seen as a creative attempt to do something different, any dissent was seen as blocking the creative juices. Looking back, I can see lots of attempts by what we jokingly called the PPD (Programme Prevention Department) to stop us, however, I can also see that sometimes they were just stating the obvious, this was a dangerous and foolhardy plan.
So, undaunted, the live programme “Borderlive” was set in stone. We didn’t even have a real rehearsal, we just contacted the team and said can you dance for us? “Yes, we can” said Carlisle Sword and Morris.
I had not even asked what they wore. I had imagined a few bells and a hanky in each hand (the more common Morris dancing look). I thought they would be sedate, quintessentially British and on the up and up, which would be the point of the story. But boy, was I wrong!
Boots, bells, feathers and huge great sticks. These were Cumbrian Morris dancers, the urban terrorists of the Morris world and famed for their aggression and spirited performance much sought after by national festivals. They were big, all eight of them, bulked up further by their heavy rag jackets.
The music started and, to our dismay, on live television the first clash of sticks showed the full horror of what was going to unfold. The first few clashes were frightening but as they swirled for the high clash the lead dancer stepped back into the modesty board and fell hard, right into the lap of one of the ladies in the audience.
They kept on going, cameras then cut to Liz who introduced the commercial break, during which the guest was attended to. Amazingly, she was unhurt and unfazed (we paid for a new dress). The modesty board was put back, we returned from the break and we carried on as though it was a carefully planned and choreographed element to a well thought-out programme.
I have to say “Borderlive” was one of the highest rated shows in the UK at the time. People came home from the pub to watch it. What we didn’t know was that they watched to see what carnage would unfold each week from the increasingly outrageous and sometimes dangerous show.
Well, to be fair, we learnt a lot and both Liz and Liam became very senior executives in network television and Liz a professor of journalism in London.
I was so taken with the Morris team I joined up! I was never any good but it was some of the best fun I ever had!
Hopeful Traveller is a weekly newsletter and archive of stories about broadcasting in the 1970s and 80s. It is written by former-newsreader and programme maker Paul Baird. For new stories each week, subscribe.