A note on how to browse this blog and (perhaps) avoid confusion
Welcome! As written in the very first post, when I started this project I wasn't very familiar with the process of setting up a blog. As I built it some bits were successful and ended up looking the way I expected, others... less! Please refer to the Blog Archive in the menu bar on the right to better explore this blog. Posts often have descriptive titles, namely:- "On the field" entries refer to my random explorations of Oxfordshire -- and beyond.- "FolkRec" posts feature my (rigorously non-professional) folk recordings.- "Flowchart" entries display attempts to use the concept of flowcharts to describe aspects of life -- decisions, indecisions and resolutions.- "ScienceCom" posts focus on the themes of science communication and education.Unclassified entries are labelled in this way for a reason: they are totally random in content. Please do leave comments if you fancy. Thank you!
I have known this song for a while, although it didn't strike me as one of my favourite tunes. Oddly, I could still remember the melody - even though I learnt it from a very talented Irish singer some five years ago.
Over Christmas I felt like challenging myself with something new: why not with this one then? I diligently memorised the lyrics, I thought of how I would like to sing it and eventually came up with a-sort-of-final version of this melancholic Irish song. The timing was quite right as well: "Month of January", a recording that would appear as a January blog entry... Or maybe not. January and February passed; March came and I thought "Well, it's almost spring now, I guess I'll wait for next year to post this song" - once again, bad prediction! Today I woke up and saw the snow gently falling down, covering roofs, trees and lawns.
... Yes, another recording - and another religious song, too! This one I learnt years ago - thanks to Mariano De Simone for teaching it to me. I think I memorised the lyrics gradually, and for a long time I didn't even own a printed copy of the words. The lyrics I refer to can be found here: http://www.mudcat.org/@displaysong.cfm?SongID=1331. There is a comment about another verse - true, the version I knew was indeed longer, but I personally decided to cut down one verse as I found it... less interesting (excuse my frankness). A recording of this tune that immediately comes to my mind is the one by Jean Ritchie (where she sings along with a choir whose size sounds... impressive!). I do believe that this song is religious - maybe this time it is also truly a Christian song.
On a general note, I am not a religious person - I am an agnostic, and a convinced one. Does it make sense then for me to venture into this kind of "belief-inspired repertoire", I wonder? I have asked myself this question many times, and I have never performed such songs in public (I do not perform in public very often anyway!). Now I posted two of them on this blog, so it may look like I finally found an answer to my question. Well, as much as it can sound trivial and superficial, I do believe that music is a universal language. There are songs that are deeply rooted in a specific culture or time in history, and these may therefore lose part of their potential "universality". On the other hand there are tunes, images and feelings that do cross boundaries, both cultural and temporal. And then one may end up humming a song that was originally sung by, say, workers in 19th-century North America or by English sailors at sea. Isn't this incredible?
I only know two versions of this song - one is by Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, the other one is by Anaïs Mitchell (who sings it with two other people whose names I don't know - apologies). I initially memorised the first verse - and would sing it in a sort of loop... ! The full lyrics are the following:
Bright morning stars
are rising
Bright morning stars are rising
Bright morning stars are rising
Day is a-breaking in my soul
Oh where are our dear
fathers
Oh where are our dear fathers
They’re down in the valley a-praying
Day is a-breaking in my soul
Oh where are our dear
mothers
Oh where are our dear mothers
They’ve gone to heaven a-shouting
Day is a-breaking in my soul
Bright morning stars are
rising
Bright morning stars are rising
Bright morning stars are rising
Day is a-breaking in my soul I remember I was struck by this one verse, where "mothers have gone to heaven" shouting... I thought it was a strong image, and wondered about the origin and true meaning of it. At some point I convinced myself that it had to refer to mothers who would die after they gave birth to their child, but I admit it - it's an adventurous explanation. Also, I knew the song was American traditional - nothing more. I recently looked for additional information and found this web page: http://www.mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=89700. So, it looks like the song comes the Appalachian region in North America; there seems to be a lively debate as to how old it is, and an even more fervent discussion as to whether it is a Christian song or not (the somehow religious content is, I think, rather obvious, but I do agree with the people who claim that it doesn't really sound Christian). If you scroll down the wbe page, you'll also find alternative lyrics - I was particularly interested in one version where "mothers" are praying while "fathers" are in heaven! Oral tradition - you never know what to expect. ;)
I have known this song for a while, and every time I sang it I either forgot a line, misplaced words, ... - all the kinds of mistakes one would really like not to make while singing, especially when it is not even the length of the song that may be responsible for poor concentration! In fact, I learnt the tune from a recording by Anne Briggs, but my version is much shorter. I decided to omit a few verses as I found them somehow "fake", as if they were added later yet hardly fit the opening lines... If you are curious to read about this song and have a look at the lyrics of some expanded versions, I think the best place is http://www.informatik.uni-hamburg.de/~zierke/shirley.collins/songs/thecuckoo.html.
Now, to check the above link I briefly skimmed through the webpage, and found the answer to a question I asked myself earlier today (well, yesterday, given the time), when I started a search that led me - by pure chance - to an interesting discovery.
Let me go back a few steps. Some days ago I wrote an email to a friend, and I happened to mention a round I learnt recently: "In summer the flowers wilt, the flowers wilt, the streams run dry, I pray for rain, pray for rain, I pray for rain"... A side note: I suggest you do not hum nor sing this until this endless sort-of-spring-with-bits-of-autumn goes away and lets us enjoy the summer. Apologies, I digress. I used the term "round" and - since this friend of mine knows Italian - improvised its translation as "filastrocca". Then I sent the email. Seconds after I asked myself: why didn't I check the meaning of the word "round" before attempting to translate it? [And also, why on earth do I keep on using English words of which I presume to know the definition?]
Hence I promptly looked for this word on Wikipedia: clearly, "round" does not mean "filastrocca". I believe it means "canone". Before the non-Italian speakers fall asleep, let me unveil why the reading of the article on rounds (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Round_(music)) proved to be interesting: the reason is that it cites the very first example - that arrived to us - of a round. Its title is "Sumer Is Icumen In": of course there is a Wikipedia entry on this ancient song too (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sumer_Is_Icumen_In). This article in turn reports the lyrics of the medieval round: the opening lines are (in Wessex dialect)
Sumer is icumen in
Lhude sing cuccu!
which mean (in modern English)
Summer has come in
Loudly sing cuckoo!
Then the song continues - roughly - with its description of the summer season. Still my attention had been caught by this reference to the cuckoo - is it me, or there is indeed a striking similarity between "The Cuckoo" that I have known for years and this very old round dating back to the thirteenth century? Yet why then none of the singers, collectors whose comments and notes I read seem to acknowledge the connection? I have listened to a few audio files and I must say, the melody of the round differs from the one I sing - but there exist many, many tunes to which "The Cuckoo" (or variations of this title) is sung. Hmm... The beauty of research. :)
I utterly love this song - I learned it earlier this year and it quickly became one of my favourites. I probably enjoy singing it because of its structure: it is a proper story, although its meaning I find quite mysterious. I recently heard that it is supposed to be a sea shantie - this is what Mary Hampton said, at least. Interesting, I suppose - I recommend listening to her very peculiar version of this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZ1NTYegs8k.
What else? Oh, yes. This version of mine is a "take two": I originally sang it in a rather slow and mellow way, but then I thought: why not dare and change the tempo a bit? So off we go - armed with scissors and needles.
Last but not least, thank you to my mum for taking a photo of this wonderful tree during our exploration of Richmond Park.
This song is quite special to me. I learnt it about three years ago from a record by the Unthanks; I remember that I instantly loved the tune, but I quickly felt that I wouldn't have been able to sing it that way. For this reason this is the first song that I worked on "to make it my own", so to speak, instead of "just learning it properly" (I do love quotation marks, yes). The singing is not as accurate as I normally like it to be, but I've been tweaking this tune for such a long time - sometimes I would focus on the technique, some other times I would worry about how to tell this story so that it would actually mean something. I recorded this 2012 version at night, sitting in my room and trying to sing very quietly not to wake up anyone, so... Take it as a field recording, if you can. :) As usual, feedback and comments are most welcome! Last but not least, apologies for taking me so long to finally add some more music to the blog - I guess I was too busy going around bluebell woods, you see... ;)
Guess what? Another song I learnt from Anne Briggs! Before you formulate this thought - yes, this is becoming dangerously repetitive, which is why I promise that the next songs to appear on this blog will show some more input from myself, so to speak... I guess that the thing is: it took me quite some time to actually realise that folk songs do not have to stay the same "because it's the tradition" - one should sing them so as to reproduce how one feels about these stories. This time the recording is from May 2010. :)
Together with "Let No Man Steal Your Thyme", another song I generally feel quite comfortable with. This recording also dates from April 2009 - and once more, I must thank Anne Briggs for such an intense version!
... Oh yes, two videos in a row! Well, I thought that a full song would be more interesting than a sequence of nonsense French words.
Please note: I apologise for the first 20 seconds which are, well, blank - I was looking for the right pitch... !
The photo is a very recent one - thanks to my friend Paola who took it less than one week ago while we were walking around Hampstead Heath, London. The song is a traditional British tune - I sing a version of it that I learnt from an early recording by Anne Briggs, probably one of my favourite folk singers (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Briggs). I guess I particularly like this song (and this version) because of the melody, clearly, but also because of its "conciseness", if you will: a few metaphors explain in a pictorial way a couple of rather basic concepts related to human behaviour (whether one agrees or not is an entirely different matter). Now that I think of it, this might almost be taken as a definition of folk music... ? Anyway, I recorded this version of "Let No Man Steal Your Thyme" in 2009.
This is my first video with audio - wooow! Although it's a tiny achievement, I am pretty satisfied with the outcome. I took the black and white picture in 2007, while I was visiting my best friend who lived in Ireland at the time. That day we went for a beautiful trip to Glendalough, a site I would recommend for a visit if you happen to be around Dublin (http://www.megalithicireland.com/Glendalough%20Monastic.html). So... Thanks to Lucia and Paul for being my very professional guides. :) The audio comes from a sort-of-experimental recording I made in April 2011 - I was playing around with my bunch of magnet words (French edition!) and came up with this combination of "mots" which I quite liked. Don't ask why, please.