The genesis of this work comes from an earlier dance work, Yggdrasil, which was commissioned by Ensemble Cymru as part of a Techniquest/Millenium Commission education project at Holywell High School in 1998. The scenario of Yggdrasil deals with the Norse myth of the creation of the world and its subsequent destruction and re-birth as a result of the battles between Nifl, the Ice God, Muspell, the God of Fire and the evil dragon, Nidhogg.  

Fire plays a central part in most folk-lore, and all civilisations have paid homage to it in some way, with its power being both feared and envied. 

Fire was a central piece of Aboriginal ritual and sometimes became an object of the ceremony. Without campfires, there would be no evening storytelling. Without torches and bonfires, there could be no ceremonial activity after dark. Without the protective radiance of the hearth fire, Aborigines were defenceless against the evil spirits that marauded the night in search of souls to devour. Fire was ubiquitous in Aboriginal rituals and myths because it was ubiquitous in Aboriginal life.  

Not all creatures know how to get fire or how to keep it. In most origin myths, the possession of fire is the guarded secret of a creature who does not deserve it and who lives in a nonflammable environment. Through the cunning and daring of his rivals or his own carelessness, the fire hoarder loses his fire - but not before final defiance in which he attempts to extinguish the fire once and for all by tossing it into water. 

The most interesting motif among the fire myths is the identification of fire with birds. Often, the fire-clutching eagle or hawk of myth drops his firestick into the grass, which spreads fire everywhere. Escaped fires are common in myth, and their morals are obvious. Firstly, they signify the danger of fire, and secondly, they explain how the fire became so prevalent in the landscape and among people. Other legends identify the heat and light of fire with the sun and sometimes with the stars. In some legends, earthly fire leads to heavenly fire.  

Fire ceremonies continue to this day, partly through tradition but also through superstition. They burn the old year out dramatically at Stonehaven, Kincardinshire, with swinging fireballs. The ceremony draws everyone in the fishing port to the Old Market Cross at the harbour, with a pipe band to lift up the spirit. At the stroke of midnight, the fireballs are lit, and the swingers whirl the baskets of fire around their heads, keeping them well apart. They make a fiery procession up the High Street to the old cannon, then back along the way they came to the harbour. Some of the fireballs burn for ten or fifteen minutes, some for much longer.  

On New Year's Eve in Allendale Town, Northumberland, they see the old year out and the New Year in with a most spectacular custom. The men, all dressed in fanciful attire and known as 'guisers', throng the busy pubs throughout the evening, adding to the conviviality. Shortly before midnight, the pubs turn out into the streets to see the fun. The band strikes up and the guisers, who have now become tar-barrelers, arrive bearing their 'kits' - barrels sawn off near the top and full of flammable materials. These are ignited and the band leads the tar-barrelers briskly around the town to return to the square, where the ceremonial bonfire has been prepared. At the stroke of midnight, the guisers throw the flaming contents of the barrels onto the fire, and the assembled inhabitants and visitors join in the singing of Auld Lang Syne. Thereafter, the guisers busy themselves first-footing around the town. The tar-barrel parade is one of the many fire customs in the north with Viking associations which take us back to the Dark Ages. 

Whilst not openly programmatic, I have tried in this piece to convey something of these fire rituals and of the awe in which the power of fire is held. I am happy to leave it to the listener to conjure up their own images and scenarios when hearing the work.