A year without a summer
Each May, the spectacular fire festival of Beltane marks the changing of the seasons. Until now.
Words by Sam Bradley
Illustration by Mhairi Braden
Naked, painted bodies dance to the beat of furious drums. Shadows cast by blazing torches flicker back and forth. A procession of leaping celebrants snakes around the girth of the hill, leading to an ecstatic, flaming climax. This is Beltane, the fire festival that heralds the beginning of summer each year. Each year, except this one. You probably know where I'm going with this. In March, Beltane was cancelled due to the coronavirus. And for the first time since 1988, Edinburgh welcomed the beginning of summer with neither bonfires nor hilltop nudity.
Held each April 30th, with a corresponding Samhuinn festival held to mark the beginning of winter on October 31st, Edinburgh's Beltane is the biggest celebration of its kind in the world. And this year, it served as a poignant reminder of what the city is missing.
Beltane marks a sacred moment; the boundary between the seasons and the thinning of the border between worlds. While the performance isn’t a religious festival, it is rooted in religious tradition. It’s a revival of a kind of magic – publicly performed ritual – not seen very often now.
The actual procession, inspired by the original Beltane celebrations in pre-Christian Ireland and Scotland, is simple enough. Beginning at the National Monument atop Calton Hill (a unfinished Parthenon-esque monument that crowns the hill), the parade winds anticlockwise, led by the Court characters of the Green Man and the May Queen. They confront an eery cast of antagonists and allies en route to a huge bonfire which, once lit, represents rebirth and fertility – and where the Green Man is reborn as the Queen's consort. The hill blazes with the light of hundreds of burning torches. It’s a special sight.
Katie O'Neill first got involved with Beltane six years ago, when she turned up to an open rehearsal hoping to learn to play the drums. She told me: “I found out halfway through that I'd be painted red and basically naked on the night – a bit of a culture shock for a 19-year-old Catholic Irish lass!”
This year's performance would have marked the third and final year of her reign as May Queen; she's the seventh to have played the role since the festival began. “The festival itself is a living embodiment of fire,” said O'Neill. “It fascinates those that see it, draws people together from different backgrounds, invites and inspires them to share themselves, and warms their hearts.”
Bradley Macarthur is the current Chair of the Beltane Fire Society, the organisation behind both Beltane and Samhuinn. He got involved as a teenager and has performed in 12 festivals so far. This year, he’d been due to join the drumming corps, the role that had drawn his attention a decade ago. “I first saw Beltane as a teenager when I was exploring my spirituality. I remember being gathered in the dark and then hearing these drums coming from the acropolis – and suddenly, fire appearing out of what felt like nowhere,” he said. “It was such a magickal experience that it stuck with me for years.
“I’ve been a Torchbearer, the Aerie (symbolising the air by performing as a bird), a helper with the Ignis Corpora (symbolising fire with drums and dance), a Contact Point (symbolising duality, and an information point for spectators) and part of the No Point (a wandering group of troublemakers bringing joy and mischief to the audience).” Beltane’s volunteer army of dancers and performers don't necessarily go in for the sacred aspects of the performance, but all appreciate its power. David, a regular volunteer in Beltane and Samhuinn, told me he'd got involved as a hobby over 10 years ago. “My wife and I had just moved to Edinburgh and we were looking for something fun to do that would help us work our performance muscles and let us meet friends,” he said. “As a regular group organiser, I got to bring people together, create performances and try to guide people through the stories of the festivals and the rituals that underpin them to make something really special,” he explained.
A very different kind of magic can be found on Edinburgh's cobblestones each August, when sword-swallowers, escape artists and street magicians pack the Old Town. In recent years, the city's bursting calendar has drawn increasing numbers of tourists, performers – and cash. There’s the International Festival and the Festival Fringe, the Book festival, the Mela, the Film festival, the TV festival, the Jazz & Blues Festival and the International Magic Festival. Christmas lasts at least three months and then there’s Hogmanay. These gatherings add hundreds of millions to the local economy and help keep the lights on and their cancellation precludes a significant loss to the local community, as well as the abatement (for this year at least) of arguments about whether or not they should be left to run rampant or held back for the good of the city.
Beltane and Samhuinn are, in contrast, remarkably uncommercial events. Having only embraced ticketing in recent years for crowd control reasons, they exist to honour the transition of the seasons, rather than to generate wealth. Macarthur said that the Society, which has no permanent staff, has tried to remain as grassroots as possible. “We’re the last festival in Edinburgh not interpreted as having a lot of commercialisation. We feel we have stayed true as much as we can to its community aspect... anyone can come perform with us,” he said.
As well as being moment of spirituality and participation, Beltane has acquired a political undertone. As May Queen, O'Neill has folded in environmental commentary to her performances. “Mythology and story are important parts of who we are, how we see the world, and how we make decisions in our daily lives. They reflect our living traditions and inform our value systems. The role on the night is to embody the earth, to weave the intentions and energies of the elements and community together, and to join with the Green Man to create summer,” said O'Neill.
“Last year I adapted the role when [the May Queen] was feeling rage and grief about how the earth is right now. She's a mythic figure and myth should reflect the current time. We need new narratives: we cannot keep taking mindlessly from the earth, we cannot continue in a society that thrives off inequity across gender, nationality and class. And we can't just keep talking about it, we need to actually take action to create that world. But dreaming, intention setting, and rewriting our myth together come first.”
For David, the message of the ritual and its spectacle are opposing forces to be balanced. “Celebrating the turning of the year is hugely empowering, connecting with the raw forces of time, nature and the greater whole. With that said, it is very much a performance people have come to see, so if your performance is confusing or self-indulgent at the expense of the witnesses, then you are doing yourself a disservice," he said.
Beltane isn't just about the changing of the seasons – it's about optimism, about getting ready for a new year. With Edinburgh’s summer all but binned it's been hard to feel optimistic about anything lately. Then again, it’s hard to imagine a better way of welcoming back the summer next year than with a naked hilltop fire party.
Illustrating the fire festival
Illustrator Mhairi Braden created the posters for Samhuinn in 2017. She tells us how Celtic myths and folk magic inform her work.
What’s the story behind the poster? The poster is taken from the story of Samhuinn, the Celtic New Year Celebration. It's a battle between the Summer and Winter Kings, overseen by the Cailleach – an all-seeing goddess figure. Naturally, the inevitable changing of season gives victory to the King of Winter, but it's not without theatre.
How do you capture the feel of a festival like Samhuinn in an illustration?
I hope I was able to capture the busyness in the poster! I considered scale, texture, colour and composition to try and convey the feel of the event – the spectacle of it, with a clear reds-versus-blues aspect. The viewer is part of the procession, as they are in real life, small compared to the massive constructions fashioned by the Beltane Fire Society. The composition focuses attention on the performance but remembers the base of the crowd as an important element as onlookers. I made the poster whilst I was a student and I would approach it differently now, but still feel it’s effective in conveying the feel of Samhuinn. The festival is really fantastic; I know Beltane was cancelled this year, but I'd recommend Samhuinn to anyone able to go this 31st of October!