Experts say Morris Dancing is becoming ‘uncool’ among the young generation – but Shropshire dance groups aren’t ready to wave the white handkerchief just yet. Ben Bentley reports.

It has been branded uncool and is, perhaps, not a look you can imagine being adopted by the hoodie generation.

With bells strapped to their legs, handkerchiefs in their hands and strange hats on their heads, the morris dancer look is more “village green” than “street”.

Which might partly explain new claims that the morris man – and woman – faces becoming an endangered species.

Because according to the Morris Ring, the national association which represents more than 200 teams across the country, morris dancing is dying out and could become extinct within a generation because it is not seen as “sexy” by younger generations. Fewer people are taking part, and those who do are getting older.

But is it? Shropshire has a strong tradition of morris dancing, with so-called morris sets jigging their stuff around the county. There are two groups in Shrewsbury and one in Bishop’s Castle alone.

Besides which, the perception of morris dancers as effete wimps skipping around the English countryside with tambourines strapped to their shins and recklessly waving hankies is not strictly true either.

Morris man John Dorricott, 62, from Malinslee in Telford, has 20 years’ dancing experience under his tunic and says it’s a stereotype which needs clarification.

“If you see a morris man you assume they will be all in white with bells on their knees,” he says.

“It’s not always like that. The picture people get is of the Cotswold style. But there are others.”

His former troupe, the Ironbridge-based Ironmen and Severn Gilders, black up, wear bowler hats and clunk round with dirty great clogs on their feet, including a popular new year’s day performance on the Iron Bridge.

This is Border style. There is a difference.

And anyway, there are more younger people coming to morris sets in Shropshire than you could shake a stick at – one adorned with bells of course.

John’s son, Rob, became a morris man from a very young age and with his incredible sense of rhythm played drums with gusto.

“He started when he was tiny, smaller than a melodeon,” says John.

The main argument seems to be that most teams are older and it’s not that attractive to younger people. But the music has got a big following – there’s plenty of youngsters into ceilidh. And it’s good fun. It’s the camaraderie – we travel all over England and it’s a laugh. It’s hard work but it’s a laugh.”

For evidence of this, John casts his mind back to a morris trip to Dorset where the chief of police in the area had fallen out of favour after cancelling all officer leave.

“He sat on the corner watching,” says John.

“There was the ladies’ procession and they formed a tight circle around him and one of them gave him a kiss.”

Another time the Ironmen were dancing and began swapping their hats with local police, “and you can imagine a policeman with a bowler hat on”.

Let’s just say that in the same situation a hoodie might not have been able to get away with quite as much . . .

Of course, such capers are carried out in good humour, yet there is a generation gap, and the division has been highlighted during stand-offs between morris men and local youths at morris events.

The morris man will require, or need to develop very quickly, a thick skin.

Says John: “Morris humour is very adult. I remember we were at Stratford one time and it was very hot. We were all wearing beards – it was de rigeur. One morris man, a big strapping fellow, was resting under the trees when some youngsters passed by and one gave him the limp-wristed salute and asked him what sort of dancing he did.

“He stood up and joked, ‘I call it break dancing, because with people like you I break sticks across their cheeks’.”

It should be pointed out that this was a joke, and morris men are gentile types, but it perhaps shows that they should be afforded some degree of respect by younger generations.

Ray Langton, of Shrewsbury Morris Dancers, says: “Morris dancing is alive and kicking in Shrewsbury.”

New

Ann Reader, membership secretary for the Ironmen and Severn Gilders, says: “I would say that we could always do with new members. If it was just down to youngsters in our sides, there would not be enough, but more people join all the time.

“The age varies – we’ve just been contacted by someone who wants to join with his daughter who is 16. Another is 60.

“We do struggle for members from time to time, it goes up and down. The group was set up 30 years ago by a big bunch of people who are now older.”

It should be pointed out, assertions that morris dancing could become extinct were issued by the Morris Ring, which historically claimed that women can’t dance the morris.

Jenny Brooker of the Severn Gilders women’s side adds that most Shropshire morris teams are going strong because teams are joint, with men and women dancing out together.

“This has always encouraged couples to join, and then families get involved,” she says.

“It keeps the young blood in the teams and also means that younger people are more inclined to have a go as there are younger people already there.”

But Jenny says teams shouldn’t become complacent about recruiting new members.

“I rather feel that the Ring’s suggestion of finding it hard to get ‘new blood’ is partly a result of their own politics and history. They are rather seen, perhaps unfairly, as the grumpy old men of morris. Beer mugs and beards spring to mind!”

Progressive thinking, then, could save England’s traditional jig from having its last dance.

The end of the world of morris dancing as we know it? Morris dancing has survived since the 1400s, and even escaped extinction after it was banned by Oliver Cromwell.

So don’t be waving your white hanky in surrender just yet.