In Memoriam Chris Bruce
Apr. 17th, 2018 10:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pallas_athenaI haven't quite found the words to talk about Chris Bruce.
In life, when I would try to describe him to other people, they couldn't quite believe it. A stuntman, an equestrian, a swordsman, and later a a fight director and stunt coordinator; he'd worked on the original Star Wars (as a stormtrooper) and the 1970s Musketeers films (doubling, among other things, for Christopher Lee). He went out drinking with Oliver Reed (who, he said, "taught me how to fight like a bucko") and lived to tell the tale. He worked with the greatest fight directors in the business, and was never without a story to tell.
I met him in his other life, after he'd knackered his back in a stunt falling from the deck of a ship into the water many metres below. When I met him, he and Karen were already well established as organisers of historical events (soon to be joined by their marvellous daughter Ellie). He offered me a job at Berkeley, the first year he did it; that was my introduction to the living history/reenactment scene in Britain.
I've done many events since, but the ones organised by Chris, Karen, Ellie and their team always had something different about them. Chris inspired trust and goodwill in all who dealt with him, even in the most difficult of circumstances. He dealt with adversity with good humour and pragmatism. He always gave his best, and trusted that you would do the same; and you did. Once the public were in, he would get on the mic and "The Voice" would ring out, narrating and directing in a style no one else could match.
Later, when the gates were closed and the beer was flowing, Chris would be everywhere, with a kind word for everyone. In any crowded room, you'd know where he was. That laugh would ring out, and all heads would turn. Or he'd be near the guitar, calling out a request for the Cadgwith Anthem, singing along with whatever was going.
In his 71 years, Chris lived many lives; all of them larger than life. Any death of someone you know well leaves a hole in the world, but Chris's presence was so great that his passing feels like a shadow cast on us all.
I can only close with this passage from Sir Thomas Mallory's Le Morte d'Arthur:
*************
Then went Sir Bors unto Sir Ector, and told him how there lay his brother, Sir Launcelot, dead; and then Sir Ector threw his shield, sword, and helm from him. And when he beheld Sir Launcelot's visage, he fell down in a swoon. And when he waked it were hard any tongue to tell the doleful complaints that he made for his brother.
"Ah Launcelot," he said, "thou were head of all Christian knights, and now I dare say," said Sir Ector, “thou Sir Launcelot, there thou liest, that thou were never matched of earthly knight's hand. And thou were the courteoust knight that ever bare shield. And thou were the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse. And thou were the truest lover of a sinful man that ever loved woman. And thou were the kindest man that ever struck with sword. And thou were the goodliest person that ever came among press of knights. And thou was the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among ladies. And thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in the rest."
Then there was weeping and dolour out of measure.
In life, when I would try to describe him to other people, they couldn't quite believe it. A stuntman, an equestrian, a swordsman, and later a a fight director and stunt coordinator; he'd worked on the original Star Wars (as a stormtrooper) and the 1970s Musketeers films (doubling, among other things, for Christopher Lee). He went out drinking with Oliver Reed (who, he said, "taught me how to fight like a bucko") and lived to tell the tale. He worked with the greatest fight directors in the business, and was never without a story to tell.
I met him in his other life, after he'd knackered his back in a stunt falling from the deck of a ship into the water many metres below. When I met him, he and Karen were already well established as organisers of historical events (soon to be joined by their marvellous daughter Ellie). He offered me a job at Berkeley, the first year he did it; that was my introduction to the living history/reenactment scene in Britain.
I've done many events since, but the ones organised by Chris, Karen, Ellie and their team always had something different about them. Chris inspired trust and goodwill in all who dealt with him, even in the most difficult of circumstances. He dealt with adversity with good humour and pragmatism. He always gave his best, and trusted that you would do the same; and you did. Once the public were in, he would get on the mic and "The Voice" would ring out, narrating and directing in a style no one else could match.
Later, when the gates were closed and the beer was flowing, Chris would be everywhere, with a kind word for everyone. In any crowded room, you'd know where he was. That laugh would ring out, and all heads would turn. Or he'd be near the guitar, calling out a request for the Cadgwith Anthem, singing along with whatever was going.
In his 71 years, Chris lived many lives; all of them larger than life. Any death of someone you know well leaves a hole in the world, but Chris's presence was so great that his passing feels like a shadow cast on us all.
I can only close with this passage from Sir Thomas Mallory's Le Morte d'Arthur:
*************
Then went Sir Bors unto Sir Ector, and told him how there lay his brother, Sir Launcelot, dead; and then Sir Ector threw his shield, sword, and helm from him. And when he beheld Sir Launcelot's visage, he fell down in a swoon. And when he waked it were hard any tongue to tell the doleful complaints that he made for his brother.
"Ah Launcelot," he said, "thou were head of all Christian knights, and now I dare say," said Sir Ector, “thou Sir Launcelot, there thou liest, that thou were never matched of earthly knight's hand. And thou were the courteoust knight that ever bare shield. And thou were the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse. And thou were the truest lover of a sinful man that ever loved woman. And thou were the kindest man that ever struck with sword. And thou were the goodliest person that ever came among press of knights. And thou was the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among ladies. And thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in the rest."
Then there was weeping and dolour out of measure.