Dancing at the Starry Plough

The Starry Plough

is a pub in Berkeley, California, on Shattuck Avenue between Ashby and Alcatraz. I don't know how long it's been around, but it's been there for twenty years, certainly. There are quite a few beers available there, and ciders for those who like that sort of thing, and they also serve burgers and fries and even pizza (I like the food). The pub has dartboards (and occasional tournaments), a stage (bands play there often), some seating (at the bar and at tables), and a smallish dance area, which they graciously let the dancers use every Monday evening (the only unpleasantness is that the floor is concrete, which is harder on the legs than wood, or asphalt, or grass).

None of that describes the atmosphere very well. There are flags over the dance area- Ireland, Scotland and Wales, and, of course, one of a Starry Plough. The wallspace that isn't taken up by dartboards (or advertisements for beer) is covered with leftist political posters, mostly from the early 70s, I think.

Monday nights

On Monday nights at about 6:45 the dancers start trickling in for the classes in Irish dancing, which start at 7pm (if the teachers aren't late). The smoke clears a bit from the dance area, we move the tables back into out-of-the-way spots, and we have lessons for two hours, learning various traditional jigs and reels, as well as some that were composed by the dancers themselves.

There are Beginning, Intermediate and Advanced classes for two hours (and they cost only $2), and then there is open dancing until the musicians and dancers tire. There are often many musicians, playing instruments which range from the penny-whistle and recorder to the fiddle and concertina (we've even had bagpipes a time or two), and sometimes a hammer dulcimer.


I heartily encourage everyone who is at least vaguely interested to show up once and watch. If you do show up, feel free to seek me out and ask questions about the dancing.
For any of you who thought that the title of this page sounded familiar, I loosely based it on the title of a book by Ivan Doig, which is also the name of a song. Ivan Doig is a Montanan who has written several books about Montana, from its settling to the present day. I cannot put into words the pleasure his books give me, but I can urge people to read the things he's written. Dancing at the Rascal Fair is the first of his works I read, and it kept me spellbound for the better part of two days, and still haunts my thoughts.
disclaimer

Emily's outdoorsy page

Emily Gladstone's home page