Some More Notes about the Kerrville Renaissance Festival

We did feel like royalty, yes.
Photo from Sonya Elliott's phone,
helpfully taken by a kind passer-by

𝔍ust yesterday, my family and I returned to the Kerrville Renaissance Festival (still @kerrrenfest on Twitter, even if the Twitter feed does not update much, as well as on Facebook and as #KerrvilleRenFest on several platforms). We went last year and had a pretty good time of it, so, when I once again won free one-day tickets, we figured on going again. The weather was not quite so kindly to us this year as last, unfortunately, but we still had a pretty good time of it--and I have a few comments to make about the experience this time that I did not last time around.
Some things carried forward from last year, as might be expected for an event run by the same people. We were privileged to see the return of the Bedouin Dancers out of San Antonio, as well as the Last Chance Forever Bird of Prey Conservancy--and we got to see more of the latter's exhibition this year than last. I noted with some interest John Karger's comments about vultures and cockroaches; he remarks that, despite the annoyances they might sometimes provide, such creatures are vital to the balance of nature and deserve respect therefore. It is a good message that bears repeating.

Last Chance Forever in exhibition
Photo my own.

Too, there were the standards of such festivals, including parades and pageantry, wonderfully anachronistic food stall (including an excellent Caribbean food stall that seemed to fit well with the anachronistic pirate-garbed folks wandering through the event alongside steampunk-wearing people and the occasional furry). Last year's remarks about the wonderful blend of times and peoples, and about the chance for people to be more themselves, seem in large part to apply (though I have a bit more to say about such things below).

The young Ms. 8 with someone feeling very much themself
Photo my own.

The event seemed fuller this time than it did last time, both in terms of having more booths and attractions available and in terms of having more attendance. I count it as a good thing; an event that brings in more people, year to year, is an event likely to be offered again, and more events in my hometown makes for a better hometown for me and mine. It's selfish, I know, but I don't think it's the kind of selfishness for which I can be too much blamed.

The San Antonio Recorder Society performing
Photo my own.

Among the stuff that was new to this year was a period musical group from nearby San Antonio, Texas: the San Antonio Recorder Society. As it turns out, there is a thriving early music community in San Antonio, which might not be expected of the Alamo City but which adds to the cultural richness of Central and South Texas. It was a pleasure to listen to them, and it is another good to see them get more attention.
New to me, though not to the festival, was an attempt at archery. All three of us--my daughter, my wife, and I--tried our hands at sending shafts out to stick into butts, and all three of us had a good time of it. My daughter landed the most arrows on target; I was actually able to put one into the hind end of a boar-shaped target, despite having a bow that had perhaps too high a draw-strength for me to handle well (if "well" can be applied to the performance of someone who'd never picked up a bow before). Playing at archery highlighted one of the major benefits of such events, though: the otherwise rare opportunity to have a bit of hands-on experience with the daily lives of those who lived centuries ago.

Ms. 8 trying her hand at the bow
Photo my own.

One thing that I did notice this year that I did not notice last year (which does not mean it was not present, just that I did not notice it) was the prevalence of a group that might well be called bloated neckbeards presuming to lecture the exhibitors and performers about "how things really were" in the medieval and early modern periods being represented and refigured at the festival. As someone who can make some small claim to knowing about the times in question--and who, admittedly, has noted what such festivals get wrong about the times--I found myself somewhat galled by the audacity. I may make note of inaccuracies, but I do not stand and berate vendors who cannot rebut as deserves, and I listen to those who make more of their living doing such work than I do anymore; they know things from the embedded experience that I do not and, as I am now, cannot. There are jerks in every crowd, I guess.

Sonya trying her hand at the bow
Photo my own

I understand that the event organizers cannot regulate attendees' behavior that they do not witness, and there's little way to anticipate which customers will decide to abuse the unequal power dynamics involved in sales relationships. But they can see when people come in openly wearing overtly white supremacist, anti-Semitic, and misogynist emblems and insignia (as opposed to the often-coded use of medieval/ist symbols as such markers, about which others have written more eloquently and at greater length than I can). Certainly, I saw such people walking about the festival, and I did see many of the people of color at the event--exhibitors and attendees both) growing apprehensive at their presence. The event is in a Texas Hill Country town; there is a large Hispanic population, and there are a lot of weapons on display, with presumably more that are not shown openly. Knowing this, and knowing there are people espousing hate walking around, I understand the apprehension. I share it.

Me trying my hand at the bow
Photo by Sonya Elliott

Despite seeing such--and I must confess my own failure in not confronting them openly in the moment--my family and I had a good time at the festival. My wife and daughter have expressed a desire to go again next year, and perhaps to do so in period or other festive dress; I expect I will join them, and I have even considered how I might be a more active participant in it. (I doubt that such scholarship or commentary as I might offer would find a willing audience, but I have other skills I might ply in such a venue, to be sure.) There are other, similar events in the area that we will doubtlessly attend, and I have similar thoughts about them, similar concerns about how they allow unfortunately prevalent narratives about a mythical past to be reinforced--but similar hopes about how they can serve as a corrective to those narratives and present a more inclusive, ultimately accurate, idea of the past that was, and promote celebration of the nuance and difference that have pervaded all times and more places than people commonly recognize.