Category: Music

French adventures

By Simon

Bangor Community Choir and Coastal Voices in Oloron-Sainte_Maire

My trip to France last week with members of Bangor Community Choir and Coastal Voices choir from Abergele was fantastic, and though it was only five days, it felt much longer as we fitted so much into our time there.

We left Bangor at 6am on Wednesday morning and travelled to Birmingham airport by coach, picking people up in Abergele on the way. We flew from Birmingham to Bordeaux, then got another coach from there to Issor in the Barétous valley – a delightful place in the foothills of the Pyrenees. We stayed there for two nights in gîtes just outside the village of Issor which are owned by a member of the French choir we were visiting. Both nights we were there we had meals outside one of the gites, and members of the French choir came to join us, and there was much singing and merriment.

Le chateau de Pau

On the second day – Thursday – we visited a vineyard near Monein, part of the Jurançon wine region, and sampled their wine – at least the others did – I don’t drink, but was interested to see how the wine is made. We also visited Pau and Navarrenx, both of which are attractive and interesting towns, and of course we sang in each of these places.

Before I went to Pau I wasn’t sure how to pronounce it. Now I know that it’s pronounced /po/ in French, and /paw/ in Bearnese and Basque. The origins of the name are uncertain.

Navarrenx is pronounced /nabarēŋs/, and was known as Navarrensis in the 11th century. Since then there have been a number of versions of the name. In Bearnese it is known as Nabarrenx or Nabarrencx. This area was traditionally known as Lower Navarre (Nafarroa Beherea or Baxenabarre in Basque, Navarra Baisha in Bearnese, and Basse-Navarre in French) and was part of the Kingdom of Navarre until the 11th century. The name Navarre is thought to come either from the Basque word nabar (brownish, multicoloured, or from the Basque words naba (valley, plain) and herri (people, land) [source].

Canfranc International Railway Station / Estación Internacional de Canfranc - photo by Tony Doggett

On Friday we popped over to Jaca in Spain going through the tunnel under the mountains on the way there, and coming back over the mountains. We spent a pleasant morning there, then headed back to France, stopping at Canfanc on the way to see the impressive railway station (see above). We had a picnic in a village whose name I don’t remember, then went up into the hills to Lescun, where we sang in the church and had a meal with the French choir and other local singers. Unfortunately it was too foggy to see the apparently spectacular views of the mountains. Coming down the mountain was quite an experience in the fog on a very windy road. We were driven by a member of the French choir, who knows the road well and is a very good driver, so we never felt unsafe.

On Saturday we explored Oloron-Sainte-Maire, particularly the old parts of the town, which are very picturesque, and learnt a bit about the local sports, such as various forms of Basque pelota, which has similarities to squash, and Bearnese quilles de neuf, a kind of skittles. We spent the afternoon wandering around and relaxing, and performed in the cathedral in the evening. The concert went really well. We had two encores and standing ovations, and raised over €2,000 for a charity that’s helping a village in Nepal to rebuild after the recent earthquake.

All three choirs sang first – a Russian Orthodox hymn in Church Slavonic called Tebe Poem (Тебе поем) (We sing to you). Here’s a recording

Then the French choir, le Chœur Sensible, did their set, which included songs in French, Bearnese, Basque, Zulu, English, Georgian, Spanish, Guadalopean Creole and other languages. Here are some recordings from the French choir’s set, made by Rod Armstrong:

Ave Maria

Gloria (not sure about the title of this one)

Amazing Grace – based on a Christian hymn published in 1779, with words written by the English poet and clergyman John Newton (1725–1807): more info.

Not sure about the title of this one

À la Claire Fontaine (By the clear fountain) – a traditional French song dating at least from the early 17th century: more info.

Adieu foulard, adieu Madras – a song from Guadeloupe in the local creole language dating from 1769, attributed to François Claude de Bouillé1, who was governor of Guadeloupe from 1769 to 1771: more info.

Ts’mindao ghmerto (წმინდაო ღმერთო) – a Georgian version of a Trisagion, a standard hymn of the Divine Liturgy in most of the Eastern and Oriental Orthodox Churches and Eastern Catholic Churches: more info.

Le Temps des cerises – written in France in 1866, with words by Jean-Baptiste Clément and music by Antoine Renard: more info.

Then we did our set, and we sang a few more songs together. I was hoping to record the whole of the concert, but unfortunately the batteries in my recorder didn’t last. Other people did record the concert, and I hope to get hold of those recordings soon.

We left Oloron on Sunday morning and returned to Abergele and Bangor via coach, plane and coach, arriving in Bangor just after 9pm. On the way we sang a song or two in most of the places where we stopped, including Bordeaux and Birmingham airports.

I spoke plenty of French during the trip, and a bit of Spanish when we were in Jaca. A few other members of our choirs speak French to varying degrees, and some speak Spanish. Most of the French choir know at least basic English, and some speak it very well. Some also speak Bearnese, Basque and/or Spanish, so we were able communicate with them without too much difficulty. Some of choir members from Wales started speaking English with outrageous French accents amongst ourselves, and this soon spread to the whole choir, much to our amusement.

Oloron-Sainte-Maire

By Simon

Oloron-Sainte-Maire

Tomorrow I’m going to Oloron-Sainte-Maire in the south west of France with members of the Bangor Community Choir, and the Coastal Voices choir from Abergele. We’ll travel by coach to Birmingham aiport, fly to Bordeaux, and then continue by coach to Oloron. While we’re there we will visit interesting places around the area, such as Issor, Lucq-de-Béarn, Monein, Pau, Jaca (in Spain) and Lescun, and will probably sing in most of them. We’ll also perform in a concert with a local choir, la chœur sensible, in Sainte-Marie Cathedral on Saturday evening. This choir came to visit us in Wales last year and invited us to visit them this year, so this trip is a sort of choir exchange.

We will sing in a variety of languages, as usual, including English, Welsh, Zulu, Church Slavonic, Czech, Northern Ndebele, Xhosa, Croatian and Mingrelian, and we’ve learnt a French song especially for this trip – Belle qui tiens ma vie, pavane written in 1589.

This will be my first trip to France in 15 years, and my first time in this part of France. The region is known as Béarn, part of the department of Pyrénées-Atlantiques, and half the local people speak Béarnese, a dialect of Gascon, which is considered by some to be a variety of Occitan. When la chœur sensible visited us last year they sang a number of songs in Béarnese, which was interesting to hear. Béarn is also neighbour to the Basque provinces ofLabourd (Lapurdi), Lower Navarre (Basse-Navarre / Nafarroa Beherea), Soule (Zuberoa), and I think some members of la chœur sensible come from those provinces and speak Basque.

We’ll be back in Wales on Sunday (31st), so from tomorrow to Sunday I probably won’t have time to answer emails and work on Omniglot.

La plume de ma tante

By Simon

La plume de ma tante

I wrote a new song last week based on the phrase ‘la plume de ma tante‘ (My aunt’s quill/pen/feather). This phrase cropped up in a conversation I had with friends a few weeks ago when we were talking about learning languages, and how languages are taught.

According to Wikipedia this phrase possibly appeared in French textbooks in the 19th century and early 20th century, and was designed to teach people French vowel sounds. Other phrases used in a similar way include Le petit bébé est un peu malade (the little baby is slightly ill), and Un bon vin blanc (a good white wine). An equivalent phrase, which appeared in the first Assimil English course for French speakers, is My tailor is rich.

While it’s unlikely you would often use such phrases in everyday conversation, they do have their uses: to illustrate aspects of pronunciation, to practise using various grammatical structures, and to learn vocabulary. Moreover they tend to be easier to remember if they are silly and/or bizarre. My song could be used to learn family words, how to say where things are, or are not, and words for furniture, clothes, animals, etc.

Here are the lyrics, a recording and a translation of my song:

La Plume de Ma Tante

Refrain
Où est la plume de ma tante ?
Dis-moi si tu sais où elle est.
Je l’ai vue ce matin je pense,
Mais maintenant elle a disparu.

Ce n’est pas sur la chaise de mon oncle,
Et c’est pas sous la table non plus.
Ce n’est pas dans le piano de mon grand-père,
Et ce n’est pas dans le seau de ma sœur.

Refrain

Ce n’est pas dans le frigo de mon frère
Et ce n’est pas dans sa poche non plus
Ce n’est pas dans le manteau de ma grand-mère,
Et ce n’est pas entre le marteau et l’enclume.

Refrain

Ce n’est pas derrière la dinde
Et ce n’est pas au-dessus du dromadaire
Ce n’est pas dans la piscine de mon papa
Et ce n’est pas dans le nez de ma nièce.

Refrain

My Aunt’s Quill

Chorus
Where is my aunt’s quill?
Tell me if you know where it is.
I saw it this morning, I think,
But now it has disappeared.

It’s not on my uncle’s chair,
And it’s not under the table either.
It’s not in my grandfather’s piano,
And it’s not in my sister’s bucket.

Chorus

It’s not in my brother’s fridge
And it’s not in his pocket either.
It’s not in my grandmother’s coat
And it’s not between the hammer and the anvil.

Chorus

It’s not behind the turkey,
And it’s not over the dromedary.
It’s not in my dad’s swimming pool,
And it’s not in my niece’s nose.

Chorus

The expression entre le marteau et l’enclume, which literally means “between the hammer and the anvil”, is the French equivalent of the English expressions ‘between a rock and a hard place’, and ‘between the devil and the deep blue sea’ – i.e. in a difficult situation.

There is also a musical entitled La Plume de ma Tante written and directed by Robert Dhery, and at least one other song that incorporates this phrase.

Vituperation

By Simon

When searching for a translation of a Czech song we’re learning in the Bangor Community Choir I came across the word vituperated. It’s not one I’d heard or seen before, see I had to look it up. It means “to abuse or censure severely or abusively, to berate; to use harsh condemnatory language”. It comes from the Latin vituperatus, the past participle of vituperare, from vitium (fault) and parare (to make, prepare) [source].

The song in questions is called Okolo Hradišťa – here are the lyrics and a translation:

Okolo Hradišťa voděnka teče
Ide k nám šohajek, cosi ně nese
Nese ně lásku svázanú v šátku
Milovala sem ťa, zlatý obrázku.

Milovala sem ťa bylo to špásem
Nevěděl šohajek, že falešná sem
Falešná byla švarná dívčina
Nevěděl šohajek, jaká příčina

Ta moja príčina taková byla,
že mě mamulka velice lála.
Nelaj ně, mamko, ide k nám Janko,
mosím mu nachystat za širák pérko.

Source: http://www.karaoke-lyrics.net/lyrics/hradistan/okolo-hradista-185143

There is a stream of water flowing past Hradisca (a name of a village);
A boy is coming to us and he is bringing something for me;
He brings me his love, tied up in a scarf;
I loved you, my golden picture.

I loved you but it was just for fun,
the boy did not know that I am was not true to him.
The girl was false
and the boy did not know what was the reason for it.

My reason was
that my mum kept telling me off (vituperated me a lot).
Don’t tell me off (vituperate me), mother, Janko (boy’s name) is coming
I have to prepare a feather for him to put on his hat.

Sources: Proz.com and AllTheLyrics.com.

Here’s an arrangement of the song like the one we’re doing in choir (others are available):

I can’t find any information about Hradišťa/Hradisca. Does anybody know where it is?

Air ais anns a’ Chuimrigh

By Simon

Thàinig mi air ais dhan a’ Chuimrigh oidhche Shathairne an déidh seachdain math dha rìreabh ann an Sabhal Mòr Ostaig. Rinn mi cùrsa Òrain Ghàidhlig ri Christine Primrose, agus bu mhór a chòrd e rium. Bha tri duine deug anns a’ chlas à Alba, ‘nam Ghearmailt, às na Stàitean Aonaichte, agus à Sasann. Chan robh Gàidhlig ag na mór-chuid aca, agus bha i doirbh dhaibh na faclan a fhuaimneachadh mar bu chòir. Dh’ionnsaich sinn naoi òrain ar fhichead ré cóig latha, no timcheall sia gach latha. Anns an oidhche bha sinn a’ seinn, a’ dannsa, a’ bruidhinn agus bha sinn gu sona sunndach.

I got back to Wales on Saturday night after a great week at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig. I did the Gaelic Song course with Christine Primrose and really enjoyed it. There were thirteen of us in the class from Scotland, Germany, the USA and England. Most of the others did not speak Gaelic, and it was difficult for them to pronounce the words correctly. We learnt 29 songs in five days, or about six a day. In the evening we sang, made music, danced, chatted and had a wonderful time.

Here are recordings from the cèilidh on Thursday night when we sang a some of the songs we learnt:

E ho leagain (Hi ho my pet one) – a milking song which praises a long-haired heifer who gives plenty of milk and never kicks.

Horo mo bhobagan dram (My friend is the dram) – a song in praise of whisky,

Tha Sneachd air Druim Uachdair (There is Snow on Druim Uachdair) – a song from the 17th century by Fearchair Mac Iain Oig from Kintail about a man who is on the run from the law and is hiding out in the hills where it’s cold and lonely. I sang solo for parts of this.

Carson a’ bhios sinn muladach (Why should we be down-hearted) – a song about young men going off to war together, and how they’re worried, but hope things will turn out well and that they’ll return.

Siud mar chaidh an càl a dholaidh & Cuir a nall Mor-a-Bhitheag (That is how the kale was ruined & Send on over Marion-a-Bhitheag) – two puirt à beul or pieces of mouth music, the first of which tells how the kale was ruined by the lowland men and the emperor of France, and the second concerns Marion-a-Bhitheag – the meaning of Bhitheag in this context is uncertain.

Sabhal Mòr Ostaig

By Simon

I’m off to Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, the Gaelic college on the Isle of Skye, later today to do a course in Scottish Gaelic song (Òrain Ghàidhlig) with Christine Primrose. This is the third time I’ve done the course with Christine, and the fourth time I’ve been to the college – last year I was there later in August for a Gaelic song course with Mary-Ann Kennedy.

I’m looking forward to it very much as I love singing, especially in Gaelic, and will have plenty of opportunities to speak Gaelic, and maybe other languages, while I’m there. The place itself is also very beautiful with spectacular views across the Sound of Sleat.

A view of the Sabhal Mòr Ostaig campus

So I’m going to Glasgow by train today, staying there tonight, then continuing my journey by train up to Mallaig, and by ferry to Armadale, then I’ll walk or get a taxi to the college, depending on the weather.

Cruite, cláirseacha a chrythau

By Simon

Cláirseach / Clàrsach / Claasagh / Telyn / Telenn, & Crwth

I discovered last week in Ireland that one word for the harp in Irish is cruit [krutʲ], which sounds similar to the Welsh word crwth [kruːθ], a type of bowed lyre that was once popular in Wales and in other parts of Europe, but which was largely displayed by the fiddle during the 18th century.

The word crwth from a Proto-Celtic word *krotto- (round object) and refers to a swelling or bulging out, of pregnant appearance, or a protuberance. The Irish word cruit comes from the same root and refers to small harps or lyres. The equivalent English word, which was borrowed from Welsh is crowd, which is also written crwd, crout or crouth, and in Medieval Latin such an instrument was called a chorus or crotta. The English surnames Crowder and Crowther, which mean a crowd player, and the Scottish names MacWhirter and MacWhorter also come from the same root [source].

The more common word for harp in Irish is cláirseach. In Scottish Gaelic the words cruit and clàrsach are used, with the latter being the most common, and in Manx we have claasagh and cruitçh. The Welsh word for harp is telyn, which has an equivalent in Manx – tellyn (Welsh harp). The Cornish word for harp is the same as the Welsh, and the Breton word is telenn.

Oideas Gael

By Simon

I’m having a wonderful time in Gleann Cholm Cille learning to play the harp and speaking plenty of Irish. The course is going really well – we started with basic techniques, and have learnt a number of tunes, including some from the Bóroimhe / Brian Boru suite by Michael Rooney.

I’ve videoed our teacher, Oisín Morrison, playing all the pieces we’ve learnt so far, and he’s going to give us some more pieces to learn at home.

People come here from all over the world on holiday and to do courses at Oideas Gael – this week you can do Irish language classes, harp playing, or hill walking – so there are opportunities to speak quite a few languages, including French, German, Swedish, Mandarin, Dutch and Scottish Gaelic. I’ve even learnt a bit of Serbian from a Bosnian woman who is studying Irish here.

Gleann Cholm Cille

By Simon

My pedran bach harp

Tomorrow I’m off to Oideas Gael in Gleann Cholm Cille in Donegal in the north west of Ireland to do a course in harp playing. This will be the tenth time I’ve been there, though the first time I’ve done the harp course. Normally I go for a summer school in Irish language and culture where I do Irish language classes in the mornings and sean-nós singing in the afternoons.

The Irish language classes, at least the advanced level ones I do, tend to focus on using Irish to learn about and discuss things such as culture, politics, religion, and so on, which is interesting, though as my main interest is Irish music and songs, I’d prefer to concentrate on the singing, or singing and making music. Unfortunately they don’t offer sean-nós courses on their own, so I thought I’d do the harp course this year.

At the summer school last year a number of people mentioned the harp course and said how good it was, or that they were planning to take it, and this got me thinking about trying it myself. I’ve wanted to learn the harp for a long time, and earlier this year I bought myself a small harp from Pedran Harps (pictured top right), which I really enjoy playing.

Each time I go to Ireland my Irish (Gaelic) gets a bit better. I rarely get to speak it at other times, but keep it ticking over by listening to Irish language radio and reading Irish books and other material. I think the harp course will be taught in English, unless all the participants speak Irish, so I won’t use much Irish in class. Outside class I’ll speak Irish as much as possible. I’ll probably get to speak a few other languages as people from all over the world do the courses in Gleann Cholm Cille.

Are musicians better language learners?

By Simon

According to an article I read in The Guardian yesterday, research has found that children who learn music, especially before the age of seven, find it easier to learn languages in later life. They also tend to develop larger vocabularies, and are better at grammar and high verbal IQs.

The writer of the piece, Liisa Henriksson-Macaulay from Finland, trawled through many scientific journals and noticed that early musical training “is the only proven method to boost the full intellectual, linguistic and emotional capacity of a child.” Even one hour a week of musical training is sufficient to improve language skills and general IQ. She also cites studies that suggest that singing developed in our ancestors before language, and that language might have developed from singing.

If you had early musical training, do you think it helped with your language learning?