Mon dieu, there is so much to love about this clip. The collision of the joyful with the serious; the whoops of glee and the relentless stomp of feet off picture, while perfect upright poise maintains the loftiness of those titfers – the B52s in crisp linen and lace. The contrast of anachronistic costume despoiled by competition numbers, while weaving between are civilians with clipboards weighing each dancer for authenticity and style. The striding out at the start of each figure a la maniere de Cleese, while retaining a courtly air. Then, come off it, unless you’ve watched plenty of danses bretons sur l’YouTube (only me then), you will have been caught off guard when the camera pans to the musicians with very breton-sounding names. And ‘dieu encore’, do I love the music! The bombarde and the biniou – the perfect breton bedfellows – creating one of my favourite rackets. Harsh and harsher, tonality reaching across centuries, echoes from the music of other continents, yet this is a sound specific to the Armorican sphere. This has put a spring in my step, if not a number on my back.
