tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49626665816531032592024-03-04T20:19:52.305-08:00A Journey in Walesgwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.comBlogger107125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-24244580493606104282016-06-25T02:54:00.000-07:002016-07-08T07:39:28.724-07:00a brief interruption... oh Wales, when will you learn...Dear Wales, what have you just done? Iesu mawr... <br />
<br />
Once again, the majority of you have aligned yourselves with England and, in this case, voted to leave Europe. 52.5% of you voted that way. Is Wales disappearing? It'd be easy enough to blame the English immigrants in Wales for this mess - but in actuality, all of my so-called 'English' friends voted to remain in - perhaps more on that later - so, the difficult truth is, far too many Welshies made the vote to leave.<br />
<br />
So let me share with you some of the ways in which you have just screwed yourself up the ying yang.<br />
<br />
<b>Wales was heavily funded by the EU.</b><br />
<br />
See all those blue plaques everywhere? Yeah, that means your village hall, your town centres, your museums, your galleries and your local theatres were all built or re-built with European money. I hope places like Theatr Felin Fach and Theatr Byd Bach will survive. But who said communities need culture anyway? Eh?! Any money left over will now go sinking back into London and East England.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Is there anyone in Wales with enough money to privately fund Welsh cultural centres or small community projects? Or interest? I seriously doubt it. Do you think the Senedd will do it? They can't even make a Welsh language national daily paper happen. Impotent is the word...<br />
<br />
Well, maybe you don't care about community. Prefer your Telegraph to a village hall... Okay then...<br />
<br />
What about farming and Welsh farmers?<br />
Welsh farming was also heavily subsidized and given development funding by Europe (estimated to be about €250 million per year). I guess we can now say goodbye to small Welsh farms and Welsh farmers with them.
Are you going to compete with Canadian and American farmers? A single farm
over there has thousands of acres compared to your hundreds (or even tens).
That's not to mention big factory farming. Without your European
subsidies, how will you survive?<br />
<br />
Oh, Britain can start doing more business with the States, you say? It'll be fine, you say? Canadians have already experienced their
version
of Free Trade. Free for them, crap for us. I guess you could try to
trade more with China (at least you'll be able to paint your fields with lead
paint) but good luck with that. China will walk all over you. <br />
<br />
Well, maybe you don't care about farmers. They do make our food... but okay then...<br />
<br />
What about the Welsh Arts? <br />
Many Welsh artists (musicians, painters, writers, etc.) and Welsh artistic companies - and Welsh publishing companies - have had European Union funding in some form or other whether it's funding for new plays or taking Welsh music and musicians to Patagonia or funding artists to create new works or publishing new Welsh language books. Then there is the knock on effect this funding has on other job creation and businesses surrounding the Arts. Of course, our venues are also funded by Europe so how will they afford to hire us now? Oh well Wales, say good-bye to all that.<br />
<br />
I understand. You don't think artists should be able to earn a living anyway. Though, how I'm going to buy all that food you've been growing? Hmmm? Fine, okay then...<br />
<br />
The language, surely, what about Welsh?<br />
The EU has special laws to protect minority languages. Do you really
think the Conservative cronies and British fascists are going to continue supporting you?
Do you think that London and England gives a crap about you and your
language? There's no way. And that's who you've aligned yourself with. Bye-bye bi-lingualism and bye-bye official
Welsh language. In the end, it comes down to simple (and your exceptionally small) numbers...<br />
<br />
Perhaps Wales just lacks the cahones that Scotland has...<br />
<br />
Before I digress... Maybe you don't care about the language. Fair enough... <br />
<br />
But speaking of Scotland, what about stability and security?<br />
The pound has already
dropped. Easy to guess that will continue. I wonder what will happen to all those pensions of all you seniors who voted to leave? Hope they're
in Euros... (of the younger generations 64% voted to remain while those over 65 there was only 39%.) After the pound sinks, the next thing to happen will be
Scotland leaving the union. They're already talking about it. They are more forward thinking, more independent
thinking, and understand the benefits of being a part of the global community - leaving will strengthen them in ALL ways. They should have left
in the first place... Then there's Russia... Nah, no, no, too worrying to contemplate...<br />
<br />
Not into security and stability, eh? A little Russian roulette instead. Alright... <br />
<br />
Then what about the sense that Wales was finally starting to find its feet within the global community?<br />
Dearest Wales - this is the most important aspect to cultivate if you want survive in any meaningful way. You must change the way you view yourself. You can continue to be England's little runt brother. Or you can finally take your rightful place in the world, stand to your full height and let the world know that you exist and are worth saving and worth having a conversation with. Otherwise, I can see you will slowly sink into nothingness...<br />
<br />
And think about the heartfelt connections with our global fellow sisters and brothers and the joy that closer relations can bring... the idea behind it all was to find ways of creating harmony, fostering respect for all cultures and encouraging peace... <br />
<br />
You're not that into Wales? ...or peace? Uhhh, okay, well, damn. Try this then... <br />
<br />
What about jobs?<br />
Europe helped fund job creation schemes in
Wales. Things like money to build infrastructure and money to help new
businesses... and scienctific research. Yes, scienctific research. And schools. And higher education. And anyone want to count the
jobs that Welsh people have in Europe itself? Bye-bye jobs. 'Ta ra. Bye now. Bye.<br />
<br />
Are jobs really not what you're into? Really? Even for your children? Well...<br />
<br />
What about the young people of Wales?<br />
What hope have
you just given to the youth of Wales? None.
You've wrecked the prospects of your grandchildren. They could have had their horizons and vision
expanded. They could have traveled all over Europe, freely and easily finding
working with no hassle. Instead, they'll be stuck with no jobs, no
prospects, no
money, no culture with no culture centres and no hope. Well done Wales! WAaaales. WAAAaales...<br />
<br />
Oh, you don't care about the future of our young people? Then what do you care about?<br />
<br />
Ahh, I see.<br />
<br />
You believed the scare tactics of the Leave campaign.<br />
<br />
You were afraid of the 'immigrants' and 'foreigners' coming to Britain. And you're worried about EU regulations.<br />
<br />
As to the EU regulations... yes, too much red tape, agreed, not great. But the reason for regulations are to make sure people don't do crazy things like dump their chemicals into the rivers, or dump their sewage into the seas for the people and dolphins to swim in, or hunt every living thing into extinction, etcetera and etcetera. So get the frack over it! No matter who you trade with now, be it China, India, Norway or the States, you'll come up against the same regulations or worse. (Oh, by the way, Britain long ago sold the majority of its fishing rights. So leaving Europe won't get that back, suckers.)<br />
<br />
As to the fear of the immigrant... there is underlying racism involved here which is entirely fear-based-ignorance. (Who knew british people were so scared of everything? geez...) But there is nothing to fear from immigrants. Honest. First, most immigrants (except for English ones) do 'naturalize'. (What a stupid term - as if they weren't 'natural' already!) It happens in Canada all the time (errr... except for the English ones - just ask any First Nation person how that went). And it has happened in Britain in the past (well, mmm... except for the English ones - just ask the Celts how that went). Within less than a generation, people start to adapt to their new surroundings and culture as well as adding the best of their culture into the mix which then makes for a much richer tapestry all around. And so it would and will happen in England. It could easily happen in Wales and all within the Welsh language too - it would only take a slight change in attitude...<br />
<br />
And the best part of all, immigrants bring great tasting food with them. The greatest reason to let them in!<br />
<br />
Speaking of immigrants, to the English immigrants in Wales...<br />
<br />
Nah... I'll save that for another day...<br />
<br />
<br />
If the Welsh language and Welsh culture are to survive, you must start to see yourselves within the global community and take part in it rather than holding onto this small vision of yourself. You must become more like your Celtic cousins and begin to think independently and welcome immigrants like me. For example, I've learned Welsh - so, even though I'm a foreigner, am I one of you or not? If <b>not</b>, then your numbers have just dropped - <b>one less Welsh speaker</b> - do you get it yet? Can you see? <b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>Have I said it clearly enough for you to understand? </b><br />
<br />
If Wales continues with a small minded and narrow viewpoint there will soon be nothing left to be called Welsh. As I said above, it's easy to see this future, the long slow march into oblivion... <br />
<br />
Perhaps, by that point, you can rename yourselves Little England. Should we have a referendum? How utterly moronic.<br />
<br />
<br />
Well, to hell with the right wing government and british fascists and the bloody media... and to hell with all of you who voted with small vision. You've done it to yourselves. <br />
<br />
<br />
Yep, to hell with you. I'm going to continue making music and art and celebrating Welshness whether you bloody like it or not. To Hell with you.<br />
<br />
And to all the rest, travel well.<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-60751784381108283772016-06-13T23:39:00.000-07:002016-06-13T23:40:05.235-07:00Year One, Week 32, 33, 34, 35 - dancing round menhir<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii6aNXzyuvW7FsMoIqHNAtPo32JYULeFMlYYpOWg98KSOrfUYbU8gwc_JpIBRQj5JdeYXLZoPvUC9ixQ6LdcH1CPj_RCiEipVTQDlztXw9sEl6yMxfYEyeAYpV_aYR9H4gzE-y5ZdJtYM/s1600/roses+in+wales.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii6aNXzyuvW7FsMoIqHNAtPo32JYULeFMlYYpOWg98KSOrfUYbU8gwc_JpIBRQj5JdeYXLZoPvUC9ixQ6LdcH1CPj_RCiEipVTQDlztXw9sEl6yMxfYEyeAYpV_aYR9H4gzE-y5ZdJtYM/s200/roses+in+wales.JPG" width="149" /></a></div>
Okay, another look way back, nearly four years ago...<br />
November 2011...<br />
<br />
Elsa and I tried to walk the old train track from Llanbedr to Aberaeron... or at least what was left of it. The old track had been dug up sometime in the 60s by some Lord numpty. Shame because the old tracks would have been useful (especially as the buses in Wales have become next to useless and soon to be extinct apparently, but that's for later...)<br />
<br />
Anyway, we had a lovely day wandering through fields and over old wooden bridges, enjoying the company of the trees and sheep. We never did make it to Aberaeron though - we just couldn't find the path through.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Sometime after that, we both went to see Lau play at Rosygilwen. Lau is one of the best folk bands I've ever seen. A very full sound, massive landscapes of texture, thick and lush - each of the musicians are masterful - and the singer has an astonishing voice. They play from their hearts moving from the gentle and sublime to mind-blowing ripping tunes. They were and are still one of my favourite folk bands (by now, I listen more to The Gloaming, but more on that later...).<br />
<br />
Bethan started her lecture series at Plas Hendre. I think it came in response to cuts made by the University of Aberystwyth (the University was / is creating problem after problem and went into a fast downward spiral of bad decisions and bad publicity.) Anyway, I think that Mered Evans was the first speaker. Mered has been one of several major contributors to Welsh folk song publication. And Bethan is the coolest host, generous beyond and full of humour... and the Plas is an incredible delight of interesting and old books, instruments, paintings and all sorts - the culture centre of this Wales. A quick aside: Bethan is the author of <b>the</b> seminal and most important book about the Welsh crwth. All scholarship after that rests upon her work which exists in two massive volumes.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMiomh68BL6AJHusYqOffb2eW0WTGzhaD5u-albX05b4mpw5-4J_55h1LqlMIGH7HcT31DLhRIA2Di1YY5oN9E-azfEsnHgPTYHdAera6eRoJTsD8SRIl9NaxwcG80lWuIm4tCvYMySTY/s1600/richard+evans+1742+crwth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMiomh68BL6AJHusYqOffb2eW0WTGzhaD5u-albX05b4mpw5-4J_55h1LqlMIGH7HcT31DLhRIA2Di1YY5oN9E-azfEsnHgPTYHdAera6eRoJTsD8SRIl9NaxwcG80lWuIm4tCvYMySTY/s200/richard+evans+1742+crwth.jpg" width="137" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crwth of Richard Evans 1742</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I know what you're thinking. What the hell is a crwth? Well, it's probably the instrument with the oldest lineage in Wales (sorry harp fanatics) and is like a strange cross between a viol and a lyre. The crwth has retained the outer pillars of it's lyre lineage, but at some point a finger-board was added. It was most likely originally plucked or strummed - no one knows exactly when the bow was introduced, possibly around 1000 - 1100s, maybe well before though. In it's oldest representations, it had a curved body (crwth literally means 'round-shape' or 'rounded' while the related word croth means 'womb' or 'belly'), three strings and a flat bridge. Later it became a 6 stringed instrument (still flat bridge) and took on a more box-like shape.<br />
<br />
Venantius Fortunatus (530-ca.600) said:<br />
<br />
Romanusque lyra plaudat tibi, Graecus achilliaca,<br />
Barbarus harpa, chrotta Britanna canat.<br />
<br />
The Roman praises on the lyre, The Greek on the (Achilles') cithara,<br />
The Barbarian on the harp, with the crwth the Britons sing.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxtrDClM_T53v7ZG8HDVnl31zn9iDq5b2e0xyUmTOsqt4yerfRyVgkGDxVQlLAQHj_a0-xXyMdUdorpIGGyx3tH-srAx1vobAX6GRDylQxaMCGijnf9Dm_KRrO-TcGd3yzBe9nMqbD2JY/s1600/three+string+crwth+dafydd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxtrDClM_T53v7ZG8HDVnl31zn9iDq5b2e0xyUmTOsqt4yerfRyVgkGDxVQlLAQHj_a0-xXyMdUdorpIGGyx3tH-srAx1vobAX6GRDylQxaMCGijnf9Dm_KRrO-TcGd3yzBe9nMqbD2JY/s200/three+string+crwth+dafydd.jpg" width="100" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The original three string crwth</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I know this appears to say that the harp comes from Germany, which might be true (though I would think the middle east is the place of origin anyway) - but the word 'harpa' in Germanic languages simply refers to any stringed instrument. It seems to me that Venantius is showing the commonality of the nations, in that they all play and sing with versions of a lyre and only differ in name.<br />
<br />
Well, maybe... who knows...<br />
<br />
The crwth eventually died out in Wales possibly around the 1850s. This happened for a few reasons. By that time, the music had simply changed style so much that the crwth was no longer a suitable vehicle. The fiddle was much more versatile and more readily adapted to the new music. Which meant that the last of the old crwth players died without being able to find anyone interested in learning the instrument. And, most damaging, were the religious revivals that continued to sprout up sporadically from the 1700s onwards. The religious revivals really despised the music (except for hymns) - particularly music made on the crwth as well as the fiddle, harp and pipes and they especially hated dancing. Deemed as too sinful, I suppose. Although, they say the harp in Wales managed to remain an unbroken tradition, I don't really believe this to be true, which I'll get into another time.<br />
<br />
As far as I know, the crwth was reintroduced mainly by Bethan and Bob Evans. Bob plays with Mary-Anne Roberts in the group Bragod (another one of my favourite groups!) You can hear them here: http://www.bragod.com/bragodvideo.html<br />
or go to their main website: http://bragod.wordpress.com/about/<br />
Cass Meurig also has a cool crwth album that was released on the label Fflach a few years ago,<br />
http://www.fflach.co.uk/cms/index.php?module=pagemaster&PAGE_user_op=view_page&PAGE_id=71<br />
and here is an example of a three stringed crwth by some dude named Sedayne:<br />
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R_t0Vm7Gjrs<br />
<br />
Anyway, I have digressed...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxR-UWIn0Vz79g5QQukddZT73EkJX3339T1VKg5ngFQ-9uJdrXJSPKCH2ByHuxnh9K4mujCuG2CKyX5ZQYVukGSMie4V7Fhy63hX5yVGpTraCh6ZrnCUSgZmvqPvd5GRQdofAn0P2mAu4/s1600/cardiff+busking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxR-UWIn0Vz79g5QQukddZT73EkJX3339T1VKg5ngFQ-9uJdrXJSPKCH2ByHuxnh9K4mujCuG2CKyX5ZQYVukGSMie4V7Fhy63hX5yVGpTraCh6ZrnCUSgZmvqPvd5GRQdofAn0P2mAu4/s200/cardiff+busking.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">busking in Cardiff with Elsa & Gwil</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Elsa and I also went to the Pentrefest dance weekend in Rudrey with Gwil and Ana. We all had a great time and learned (or I learned) quite a lot - a mix of swedish, breton and general social dance. The Swedish duo really stick out in my mind even two years on now. Martin, Sille, Jason, Vicky, Peni and Stef all came for a portion of it. It was beautiful to be together with my soul-friends over the three days.<br />
<br />
Sometime after that I went to another Pentre Ifan. It was a beautiful, open experience led by the ever gracious, ever full of energy and enthusiasm, full of wisdom and knowledge and my good friend Ceri Rhys Matthews. If I remember rightly, it was with Julie, Kate, Alan and Chris - all beautiful people. I think Kate called it the 'birth of man'.<br />
<br />
I think that month I also went with Elsa and Gwil to the Abercych twmpath, organised by Simon with the always great Ceri 'Ffliwt', Julie Murphy, Sille Ilves and Martin Leamon. <br />
<br />
A fairly busy but fun month. All a bit foggy by now... and unfortunately, all my old photos (and writings) are locked away on a broken hard drive which is making it especially difficult.<br />
<br />
Next, meeting Llio Rhydderch...<br />
<br />
Hwyl. <br />
<br />
<br />gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-58780838703778943232013-09-10T15:31:00.001-07:002013-09-10T15:31:52.394-07:00Year One, Week 29, 30 & 31 - an early x-mas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0vX_oU6ihQ4Z5mfzaJH3Rll61nYQ0gHdWMdq0zYIZQFwsEF68s8w-SU256dbKHSilk2SkvC1tewllGUMb8cNiJ5Oq9MrPbEGQwIVgfs7ABwwn2B1jzpYNTEzTGlPyhQ1kibakbCeuYM/s1600/CIMG4208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0vX_oU6ihQ4Z5mfzaJH3Rll61nYQ0gHdWMdq0zYIZQFwsEF68s8w-SU256dbKHSilk2SkvC1tewllGUMb8cNiJ5Oq9MrPbEGQwIVgfs7ABwwn2B1jzpYNTEzTGlPyhQ1kibakbCeuYM/s200/CIMG4208.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
All the way back again... look back... waaaaaay back... to September 2011...<br />
<br />
The Bethlehem Village Band started rehearsals for the christmas. Yeah, it was a bit early but then we were trying to record an xmas album after all.<br />
<br />
After the success of our debut at the Bethlehem Christmas fair the previous year, we figured we'd be silly not to record.<br />
<br />
Of course, it felt completely mad to be playing Christmas tunes in September. <br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>It all went fairly well though. It was Jas on pipes and flute, Martin on bouzouki, guitar and squeezebox, Sille on hiiu-kannel, hurdy-gurdy, voice and fiddle, me on trombone, voice and harp and a great addition to the band, Chris Reynolds on lead vocals. Chris (whom I think you've met in previous blogs) has a great natural and rich voice, a good sense of humour and is a great Welsh language teacher that I first met on Cwrs Madog in Albany New York. It was awesome to have him with us!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_cnh_mDT5bjxY1fqJnuiHpIcy6tZlZrouTJVl8dbJ0rIE8oFsw3FCzn7ITqRDbdab7NfpPu424Hky7uINxNyDhXIIc7vf9pdpY19WtnF-l9_vgcLeXG7oGE8FbxI9Hud-kJsuBjdXGo/s1600/bvb+recording.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_cnh_mDT5bjxY1fqJnuiHpIcy6tZlZrouTJVl8dbJ0rIE8oFsw3FCzn7ITqRDbdab7NfpPu424Hky7uINxNyDhXIIc7vf9pdpY19WtnF-l9_vgcLeXG7oGE8FbxI9Hud-kJsuBjdXGo/s200/bvb+recording.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BVB recording at Dreamworld</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We arranged both Welsh and English tunes in all sorts of crazy arrangements of instruments, though my favourite, "Mary's Boy Child" didn't make it on the list. The recording itself was pretty intense - I know I wasn't quite ready myself - and we were basically recording the whole thing live. Not much room for error. We also, due to money constraints, had to pack the whole thing into only two days or so. Very difficult. Nevertheless, I think we made a good album in the end. <br />
<br />
If you're interested you can check out the Bethlehem Village Band and the album here:<br />
http://bethlehemvillageband.weebly.com<br />
We've done well since, mainly playing for twmpathe around south and south-west Wales. I don't see these friends anywhere near as much as I'd like but life's been far too busy lately as I'll eventually explain.<br />
<br />
Elsa and I played at the Queens that month. This may have been our 2nd or 3rd time there but it seems to have been the start of regular gigs. Rose and Spen were (and have been) incredibly supportive of us and our music. They are people with good hearts and generous to a fault. I love being at the Queens. Great food, proper old pub with real character, second-hand books line the walls, great locally brewed beer and cider... there's nothing comparable anywhere else. To the family at the Queens, our biggest thanks and gratitude!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbhZy0KgVK2fTGjdD1_EfhYydVEPsvHPbhvmsIFCGkgoHQ-1bPFdYA8nHcTgPGN7W-Vf0Q_Xqqnyj6SACQ44QLaKmUjV51TQj-i7kfclBEF9N2ll-7fpCNYgCDhd7PGvRlKlyWF2yFejA/s1600/CIMG4203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbhZy0KgVK2fTGjdD1_EfhYydVEPsvHPbhvmsIFCGkgoHQ-1bPFdYA8nHcTgPGN7W-Vf0Q_Xqqnyj6SACQ44QLaKmUjV51TQj-i7kfclBEF9N2ll-7fpCNYgCDhd7PGvRlKlyWF2yFejA/s200/CIMG4203.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">grassie's spirit travels...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Cerddcegin later played a twmpath in Tyddewi to help Huw raise money for the Urdd Eisteddfod which was to be held in 2013. We played for two twmpathe that day - one in the afternoon for two lots of school children and one in the evening for the adults. The twmp with the kids was one of the hardest things I've had to do, and many of the teachers weren't willing to help - though thankfully one of Huw's friends, a retired tutor, helped loads in the end and rescued me from chaos. The evening went much smoother. This day Gwil didn't make... he had decided to head onto Merthyr. We were all crushed at the time. We missed Gwil, both his company and his dancing expertise - but, in the end, we managed to hold our own. Bjorn, Rob and Jane were all there helping as well as Huw. It was another great weekend with Huw's parents who are great characters, full of stories and laughter.<br />
<br />
Later that week, we played with Llawer Mwy at a fresher's week twmpath in Morlan. A good chunk of band was there with Nigel calling - calling dances I wouldn't dare dream of attempting, all with grace and confidence - and Keith leading the way on fiddle and box. Keith has an extraordinary amount of Welsh fiddle tunes at his finger tips. Most of us just sort of hang on as he pulls tunes out of the air. Keith's been a big source of inspiration to all of us and how he finds the time while doing all that farm work, I'll never know.<br />
<br />
I did mention that Elsa and I started seeing each other. She's such a fascinating and beautiful person - her mind creative and as quick as lightning, she sees all the tangled webs of every song, story, person and place. She is a wonder and a goddess. And I have been the luckiest person.<br />
<br />
I don't know... life is strange often. And often hard. <br />
But somehow, I keep landing on my feet and all sorts of beautiful experiences have occurred along the way. I suppose part of it is being willing to take the risk - maybe it helps to be flexible and be steadfast all at once.<br />
<br />
And when someone like Elsa comes along - everything just becomes easy. When she's around suddenly I'm in the world of the numinous and the transcendent and the world of the Tylwyth Teg.<br />
<br />
<br />
Digon am nawr...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBigFrwPYwwkz13Skb32Ck5kONIoLXtnR3OsFOxTjrjxqHTEx-mOcHzSj9_f2m36kHmsVZFdI38qufKYhqutk8b7Mffh4E9fu_0XhCCDVMqPpSsJI2GzAErO-4xsWvvLqykp0zebAU0FE/s1600/CIMG4212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBigFrwPYwwkz13Skb32Ck5kONIoLXtnR3OsFOxTjrjxqHTEx-mOcHzSj9_f2m36kHmsVZFdI38qufKYhqutk8b7Mffh4E9fu_0XhCCDVMqPpSsJI2GzAErO-4xsWvvLqykp0zebAU0FE/s320/CIMG4212.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Next, llanbed, pentrefest, pentre ifan, plas hendre and abercych...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-49139733679580364692013-08-31T08:04:00.001-07:002013-08-31T08:04:24.033-07:00Year One, Weeks 26, 27 & 28 Occasions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpIFbnpQE06-K8qQXjvyK-KoPUGUWemfAOpu_Pf-FYfMenvdeJMVAd6Ab25udhAWC4KA_0yJdRwDru2oMhWlrH6gbo59i7cZ-yuu93VobNMffQXrfM626mZaN8VWTEDxw8lNPEZWqLk8/s1600/CIMG3882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpIFbnpQE06-K8qQXjvyK-KoPUGUWemfAOpu_Pf-FYfMenvdeJMVAd6Ab25udhAWC4KA_0yJdRwDru2oMhWlrH6gbo59i7cZ-yuu93VobNMffQXrfM626mZaN8VWTEDxw8lNPEZWqLk8/s200/CIMG3882.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
This is a look back... waaaay back... all the way into August 2011...<br />
<br />
One thing I did forget to write about was the infamous walk. My good friend Huw was raising money for the Urdd Eisteddfod (and is a part of the organizing committee), to be held in Sir Benfro in 2013 (now since past!). He had the route all planned and a small chunk of the Celtic crew made their way down to Huw's parents for the weekend. I had to meet them the morning of the walk itself. Huw had done the walk and had said it was quite lovely. It was supposed to have been a nice sunny day but of course it was absolutely lashing down. Buckets of water... we were all completely drenched, soaked to the bone... except for Jane who opted for the car... but I think she did get her comeuppance some time later... <br />
<br />
All told, there was James, Katie, Bjorn, Huw, Sarah and Jane. Was that it? I think so... it's been a very long time.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Anyway, it was good fun, in spite of, or because of, the rain. We sang and chatted the whole way, walking both roads and fields until we finally made it to TyDdewi. Our group was the last one in but once there we had hot tea and cake and a very warm welcome from the congregation.<br />
<br />
That night we ate at Huw's parents - played "Beans", the girls had a room and the boys another - and they put me in a different room, the one that used to be a room for vicars. There may have been a massive spider in the girl's room but that's not to be mentioned... I think the next day, we went to the chapel and had a nice sing. Huw and his dad are very spirited singers. At the end of the service, I was asked what religion I belonged and announced that I was a humanist... which perhaps wasn't the thing to say but then I didn't feel I should be dishonest. At any rate, it was a nice service.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxdVwjHS-XkmzSWYMidTpZmikU-IoUaOAF0g21OH2xZcdsifRiPinAaLn7u_st5dCvk6O08wm46bTYCWAZJ1J2Xzl8YBoA8lpoG4lIRjsJGUEiiJQOC7Bp7cEvgjHVJhdKu7qUwomncaM/s1600/CIMG3901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxdVwjHS-XkmzSWYMidTpZmikU-IoUaOAF0g21OH2xZcdsifRiPinAaLn7u_st5dCvk6O08wm46bTYCWAZJ1J2Xzl8YBoA8lpoG4lIRjsJGUEiiJQOC7Bp7cEvgjHVJhdKu7qUwomncaM/s200/CIMG3901.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">part of the celtic crew</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
During the afternoon, we made a trip around St. David's cathedral. I payed homage to my old soul brother Giraldus Cambrensis. Said hello to the Lord Rhys. We toured both the main cathedral and the bishop's palace and then had some ice cream. It was beautifully sunny that day... of course, a day late but better late than never, as they say.<br />
<br />
Anyway, there was more food after that and, after the others left, later in the evening, Bjorn and I stayed with Huw for the Gymanfa Ganu in the chapel. It was a wonderful evening, in both Welsh and English. We were later regaled with tales from both of Huw's parents, Wiliam and Gwenan, into the late. <br />
<br />
<br />
After getting back to Aberystwyth, Cwrs Haf came to an end. I had some funny experiences with Ben and ended the week quite nicely at the final banquet. Parti Dawns played for the banquet, as well as Cor Cyd. Ben met this fellow named Ernie. I had met Ernie before at a choir rehearsal - a man with the gift for gab. Ernie was talking to Ben a mile a minute in Welsh and Ben nodded along quite nicely. Shortly after Ernie left us, Ben turned to me and said, "I don't know what language he was speaking, but it sure wasn't the language that I've been learning the last couple of years."<br />
<br />
I suppose, in general, that's how it is between learners and native speakers. And really does highlight the difficulty facing Welsh learners. Native speakers don't tend to slow down for one thing. Also, the standardized Welsh that is taught in most classes doesn't match how a native speaker speaks - the vowels are the biggest differences - and of course, each dialect uses different vowels (and often different consonants and different words).<br />
<br />
For example, in Sir Benfro they say "wes" or "ddwe" instead of "oes" (there is) or "ddoe" (yesterday). They also say (along with southern Ceredigion) "Dydd Ioi" or "hoil" instead of "Dydd Iau" (thursday) or "haul" (sun). And "trath" instead of "traeth" (beach). South Wales they might say, "cwmpost ti" instead of "cwympaist ti" while West Walians say "cwympest ti" (you fell). In South Wales, they might say "mish" or "dishgled" or "eishte" instead of "mis" (month) or "disgled" (cup) or "eistedd" (sit). In North Wales, they'd say "mae fo'n" but in the south, "ma fe'n" (he is). In the north they say, "petha" instead of "pethau" or in the West, "pethe" (things). And north again, "üwch" or "dü" instead of "uwch" (eewch) ((higher/loud)) or "du" (dee) ((black)).<br />
<br />
Actually, North Welsh differs in the words themselves quite a lot from the South/West. Some examples - North "yn union", South/West "yn gwmws"(exactly). North "i fyny", South "lan" (up), North "allan", South/West, "mas" (out), North "deüd", South/West "gweud" - standard "dweud" (to say).<br />
<br />
Or the word for milk - North: "llefrith", South/West: "llath", welsh learners: "llaeth"<br />
<br />
The list of differences goes on and on - which might not seem like much but as a learner, it can almost seem an impossible task. And I haven't even mentioned literary Welsh - which is different again!!<br />
One example of literary Welsh - "eithum" instead of "aethon ni"... (we went)<br />
<br />
As you can see from this very small sample, it's not easy. But, I will say, it really is worth the effort. The joy that can be found in, and the sheer beauty of the language, is worth every struggle to learn it.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-TZBfkHtTZqeyw4RJg9mqMIYsN290YEfqGv3sIQnK_qDlK8khypPBduYViNlthO5sDBvbiMqrrdAeQDgcUopENz5_4jQDeGGdkp_vbXIlExFCR4y6gVc5AS2GuEg2AEiAEo0Doenblkc/s1600/CIMG3947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-TZBfkHtTZqeyw4RJg9mqMIYsN290YEfqGv3sIQnK_qDlK8khypPBduYViNlthO5sDBvbiMqrrdAeQDgcUopENz5_4jQDeGGdkp_vbXIlExFCR4y6gVc5AS2GuEg2AEiAEo0Doenblkc/s200/CIMG3947.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the beautiful Elsa</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Later that week, I joined Elsa at the naming ceremony of her little cousin near Cennarth. A beautiful spot, we played a tune which I didn't know at all - a tune about a boat and traveling. Elsa described the music as a gift to little Cerys, a wish for a safe journey through life. There are no words for how touching that was...<br />
<br />
<br />
At some point after that, I played at Rhosygilwen with Julie opening for Martin Carthy and Dave Swarbrick. Rhosygilwen is a huge plas (mansion) and hall, I think owned by a fellow named Glen. A great place for a concert though quite nerve wracking. It was a full audience, mainly there to see Martin Carthy and Dave Swarbrick, two famous English folk musicians. I think they had a huge influence on English folk music, both now in their 70s. It was quite an amazing gig and the two of them were very nice people. Naturally, it was great to play with Julie - we played many more gigs together after that, but more later...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9FOJTpBRvMjSYgoTK7bTgntoFPieJycv2s_63ArztM9wVpPXtjSEfkMuA1iwE6PGo4u726HDVM9fPxuPYWgB8Hal0_xNM7r1tFfdp23UiKsfnAmbPZWDgglvG_XzvZj57qmfKjPNHuE/s1600/CIMG3980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9FOJTpBRvMjSYgoTK7bTgntoFPieJycv2s_63ArztM9wVpPXtjSEfkMuA1iwE6PGo4u726HDVM9fPxuPYWgB8Hal0_xNM7r1tFfdp23UiKsfnAmbPZWDgglvG_XzvZj57qmfKjPNHuE/s200/CIMG3980.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Billy leads in a wish...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKmNQ_IemENLgqLk5HPuoI6q0993kBGAfkgpeXLrFtVEGJu7vl_F5XDL7xI1OfTY3snaPMd0iAXP6Qfhh9a50usAsZjOvjsgOly_Rx0WDz26NwNL7hcblZfmeeLkyDRdMEGhqCcwIX1Q/s1600/CIMG3985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKmNQ_IemENLgqLk5HPuoI6q0993kBGAfkgpeXLrFtVEGJu7vl_F5XDL7xI1OfTY3snaPMd0iAXP6Qfhh9a50usAsZjOvjsgOly_Rx0WDz26NwNL7hcblZfmeeLkyDRdMEGhqCcwIX1Q/s200/CIMG3985.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the family in van</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In somewhat last minute fashion, I hopped on a plane to Canada for Kathryn's marriage to John. It was very warm, intimate ceremony. Only six guests - we all gathered in their backyard. It was really beautiful. We were all happy for them both. Billy, Kathryn's good friend, took us for an amazing tour of Vancouver. It's a great city! I don't think I'd be far off in saying that I think it may be one of the best in the world. Definitely makes London look like a rubbish dump! Van is built right on the coast, surrounded by mountains, is green most of the year, mild though wet weather, May blossoms and mist, and it has some of the best Chinese restaurants and shops anywhere. It has problems, like any city, but all in all, very nice.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixMi14dpGuoc6-FQFq5xTmy-S341YLYeS19F-H7ndDcKYR3UYGGZQHQmjF4AufIbnMKwGaMUOvFDqL02-0-Bg_kT_XiIjc0W6UL0LwdGlDsc2DQ-gIrASNcEmuTYw8N-20Vf0KSpZ1mKw/s1600/110909+021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixMi14dpGuoc6-FQFq5xTmy-S341YLYeS19F-H7ndDcKYR3UYGGZQHQmjF4AufIbnMKwGaMUOvFDqL02-0-Bg_kT_XiIjc0W6UL0LwdGlDsc2DQ-gIrASNcEmuTYw8N-20Vf0KSpZ1mKw/s200/110909+021.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bjorn's birthday twmp!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The trip was relatively short. On return, we played a cerddcegin twmpath in the catholic hall - a birthday perhaps or just for fun, I can't remember now. Actually, it may have been Bjorn's birthday twmp! He had a crown and everything if I recall. I miss playing in that hall - it was often crazy because the floor would get so slippery from condensation due to lack of proper heating. People were always flying around like mad, sliding here and there with the inevitable fall and crash. Great fun!! <br />
<br />
Those were great times...<br />
<br />
<br />
Anyway... this was also the time when Elsa and I started dating... but more on that later...<br />
<br />
Next time, the Bethlehem Village Band records and Urdd madness...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uIHWVAu0M53iEnLInXX4YbFfaCHtY8-Jq_88ZfBLXTK7vOeNW_wLArGL-2sty7_TIeSfR6UiRRTzWBZMsuGlOmSZru3RVfMLZot8WEpjy_8CPf7lRIsVDVmDdCPixW-KaeqxvW2q7_E/s1600/110909+018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uIHWVAu0M53iEnLInXX4YbFfaCHtY8-Jq_88ZfBLXTK7vOeNW_wLArGL-2sty7_TIeSfR6UiRRTzWBZMsuGlOmSZru3RVfMLZot8WEpjy_8CPf7lRIsVDVmDdCPixW-KaeqxvW2q7_E/s320/110909+018.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cerddcegin, twmpath band<br />elsa, gwilym, nette and me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-64739804827950895142012-08-15T16:00:00.000-07:002012-08-15T16:00:09.135-07:00Year One, Week 22, 23, 24 & 25 - The Summer<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIErRzX9FawrxAhYdEVTa4rM1kzKnBksM60lLgZOWVPUwAKRUNU1jzGlyg80OOrVxXx6kH42YybwSUXSbgxy5OiBAZ_Vnrzx4bLQd7Vor_hV77ctHtn95HULurYYw7q0F7SKs-UI9E14/s1600/CIMG3724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIErRzX9FawrxAhYdEVTa4rM1kzKnBksM60lLgZOWVPUwAKRUNU1jzGlyg80OOrVxXx6kH42YybwSUXSbgxy5OiBAZ_Vnrzx4bLQd7Vor_hV77ctHtn95HULurYYw7q0F7SKs-UI9E14/s200/CIMG3724.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Right... on the race to catch up...</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
That first week, I remember playing in the Gower with the Bethlehem Village Band. It was a Twmpath in the village hall back in Martin's old stomping grounds. There was an enthusiastic crowd and some ravers who danced some of those old dances in real style. Earlier in the day, we all went for a walk down to Pennard Castle - Vicky, Jas, Martin, Sille and myself. It was a beautiful sunny day, the smell of ocean and sand. Dai's Vicky was also at the dance and we danced some mazurkas. I think that's when I started to finally understand that dance.</div>
</div>
<a name='more'></a><div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 1em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqNWrvb2RzC3GvISNgvtuf5pchOwzURSA_xw8pUkNay0EhcJfrr1kXv4g5QYsgFRLNkLX6wefiKnWO6fiamDkNm8hpneqCLw3OWtSv0Y9qFjwG93oN3m56hZ4-jr1qNlLHZ3QDs3J6G4/s1600/CIMG3746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqNWrvb2RzC3GvISNgvtuf5pchOwzURSA_xw8pUkNay0EhcJfrr1kXv4g5QYsgFRLNkLX6wefiKnWO6fiamDkNm8hpneqCLw3OWtSv0Y9qFjwG93oN3m56hZ4-jr1qNlLHZ3QDs3J6G4/s200/CIMG3746.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Derwydd ac ArchDerwydd</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
The following week, part of the Aber Dawns crew traveled to the National Eisteddfod - Llawer Mwy the groups name. We were competing in Wrecsam. It was Elsa, Nette, Keith, Nigel and me. We had to leave really early in the morning to get there on time. I think Elsa picked me up at 6 in the morning (she later told me she was up at 4 making sandwiches for all of us!). Backstage was completely crowded - full of druids with no room for us to warm up in - with their robes, rather disappointingly, made of polyester. We were all extremely nervous. I think I started singing at one point, which I like to do to relieve tension. As I said, Elsa had brought lunch for all of us which was extremely kind.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I managed to break a string just 10 minutes before going on stage. Disaster! I was sweating buckets trying to get it changed on time - just barely managed. And there we were, on the big Llwyfan. Massive tent on a massive stage. I played a bit of a warm up on the stage just before we started. Probably wasn't supposed to but it felt right anyway. It went really well all things considered. As we came off the stage, I was cornered by a woman to do a radio interview in Welsh - very difficult. I don't think it was live fortunately. She also interviewed Keith and Nigel.</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
At any rate, somehow, we managed to win the bloody thing. Shock and, actually, joy. I think I held my harp up above my head in victory. ha, ha... Nah, just kidding. The thing is I didn't really care about winning or losing. That's all a bit of a bull crap anyway. But the experience was really good and we played really well together, especially considering the pressure and nerves. Certainly worth doing it. (Llio Rhydderch sent me a congratulatory text shortly after! ...but more on that later)</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-right: 1em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoR-twnTMY1GI_HTopv05bE0kiQRs1nbZ3XPabbJ85Gmz1IyCUgJdoNd78pXuBDsEreYU90y0Dur-nRHCLvXeJtuwunBf8ioaj7XII9vG8oT8zGA6ftILKvyrNJQtKQed1cs1n5Ixs0wY/s1600/CIMG3744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoR-twnTMY1GI_HTopv05bE0kiQRs1nbZ3XPabbJ85Gmz1IyCUgJdoNd78pXuBDsEreYU90y0Dur-nRHCLvXeJtuwunBf8ioaj7XII9vG8oT8zGA6ftILKvyrNJQtKQed1cs1n5Ixs0wY/s200/CIMG3744.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="150" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Mari a Fi</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
After the win, I did a short interview with Mari Lövgreen - the red haired Welsh presenter. I recognized her from her time on the Welsh show Uned 5. I had trouble understanding some of the questions (all in Welsh) but there it is again, another amazing experience. I did the whole fan thing (I think she's a really good interviewer and quite funny as well - especially when she was interviewing and meeting famous actors) and got my picture taken with her. I should have got her to sign something... tro nesa!</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
We were all on a high I think. It was great to spend the day with Nette, Elsa, Nigel and Keith. Later we watched some folk dancing and eventually found our way to the Trac tent (welsh folk music promoters). There was a mini session there. It was quite odd as I remember it. Trac... we seemed to get off on entirely the wrong foot. Most memorably, they tried to use me to promote themselves when really it should be the other way around. Put me off them to this day, though that may change at some point. After all, there have been quite a few changes there. Anyway, we met Huw Clogs but he didn't really want to have anything to do with us... didn't say even a word of hello... and I don't care how famous one is, there's no excuse for rudeness! ...and he was doing this weird circus thing, watching the crowd of people (during a simple session) and if enough of a crowd gathered, he'd start clogging. Not for the love of it mind, just to put on a show. I was wondering when the jazz hands might make an appearance. Pffttt... I had a good excuse to get out of there though. That evening, Cerddcegin had a gig.</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 1em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4nDUCFaT-MqgT0ch2yX5Ep0Gd5CXj8awH9tHS2X7TeVNAwsb4vVJWFAswbnce_SPCvVNjFEC4B3vZAxi3OM6aNxoe6f3LgtzlXeUlA67JAsaHx9YI8mAEUlnlncQI6aGtYcQS1Sup38/s1600/CIMG3741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4nDUCFaT-MqgT0ch2yX5Ep0Gd5CXj8awH9tHS2X7TeVNAwsb4vVJWFAswbnce_SPCvVNjFEC4B3vZAxi3OM6aNxoe6f3LgtzlXeUlA67JAsaHx9YI8mAEUlnlncQI6aGtYcQS1Sup38/s200/CIMG3741.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Nette and Elsa - the Eisteddfod</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
We played for the first meal of the Cwrs Haf Aberystwyth at the University. It was "opening night" so to speak. We mainly played background music. It was Nette, Elsa, myself and Gwil joined us. It was wonderful to play with them all together. The new vice-chancellor was there and lots of my old Welsh language Cwrs buddies. It's a really treat to play with these people that are so close to my heart and that I trust so much. </div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
After the gig at the University, we made our way down to the bandstand and played the rest of the evening with Parti Dawns. We may have continued on into the evening that night, playing under the stars, sitting on the Prom and listening to the waves crash. A long and beautiful day.</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Later in the week, I had a gig with Bethlehem Village Band - a Twmpath near Pencader - a private birthday party, though almost no one wanted to dance - I was extremely tired and incredibly hungry. I wasn't feeling so great at that point and just made it through the gig. Though I should add, the hosts were (and are) very kind and generous people.</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
The following week, I joined the Cwrs Haf classes. Actually, it was really good for my Welsh. I had two great teachers, Dwynwen and Ioan. Both full of energy, both loads of fun. My friend Ben was there as well as Veronica and Mary again. And of course, Denise, Rob, Mark and Sarah - Andreas from Basque. And loads of others that I've crossed paths with before. Erin showed up but just briefly. I wasn't able to spend much time with her unfortunately, just traveling too much really.</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
In the last week, I played in Fishguard with Peni and Stef... at least, I think I did. I'm having trouble remembering now and may be getting my weeks confused. If it was this week, it was a gig in the rugby club in Abergwaun. It was great to play with them and have always hoped to play with them more. Peni was on pipes, pibgorn and whistles while Stef played mandola, drum and crwth. The gig started with quite a good crowd until after the raffle was called and virtually the entire bar left. Didn't matter because the music was really good. One thing I do remember - At one point, I walked into the washroom and a fellow walked in and started chatting with me and said, "I really like your music but I keep expecting Henry VIII to walk in!" A good laugh.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDf3AX40Ii_bzB_y9S1dG90rhFbrZMEMtHOg8rdk7omLYLO74HbA3EojS39aqvAUic7q-3NV8gJhjPVUS9NQNR8VjhoQDiwxRKCZeHrvVZ1fTuPhFmURfDP-ncL_x8l3_PxQHItu5y4U/s1600/CIMG3811.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDf3AX40Ii_bzB_y9S1dG90rhFbrZMEMtHOg8rdk7omLYLO74HbA3EojS39aqvAUic7q-3NV8gJhjPVUS9NQNR8VjhoQDiwxRKCZeHrvVZ1fTuPhFmURfDP-ncL_x8l3_PxQHItu5y4U/s200/CIMG3811.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">BVB Twmpath</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
And later, BVB played on Jason's home turf of Bethlehem for their summer fair. We even played a twmpath that evening. The hall is nice and cozy, quaint and quite a few people showed up throughout the day and evening. The band was starting to get into a groove by that point I think and were getting ready to record an album. But more about that later.</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
It seems that I played another twmpath in Aberystwyth but I can't remember for what now. It must have been in the Catholic hall. Perhaps that was the time we were raising money for football gear... I don't remember quite. It would have been the Cerddcegin crew if it was... along with the bulk of the Celtic crew.</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 1em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1YaPps-NyBVRgwuKc8QLNv4S5XOigCdXx6bBGQEMiCBy-zFMtWPebmrYYS9E2czCCcwtgLLebMps2j9Xtau5t478CpJFCkBwc6movjQomJIOHynvbYPlJl3cJzTduXQUvwF06V75I7k/s1600/DSC00687.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1YaPps-NyBVRgwuKc8QLNv4S5XOigCdXx6bBGQEMiCBy-zFMtWPebmrYYS9E2czCCcwtgLLebMps2j9Xtau5t478CpJFCkBwc6movjQomJIOHynvbYPlJl3cJzTduXQUvwF06V75I7k/s200/DSC00687.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="150" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Searching...</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
There was also a point where I went on a picnic with Elsa, Ana and Gwil - hidden away down a forest trail... and Nog the pine-cone hedgehog coming for a visit. Elsa was on form that day, I remember. Loads of stories pouring out of her that I hadn't heard before... a day that I showed the secret stone circle and which, later, finished on the beach, just enjoying the ocean... another great day with great people!</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Well, I have gone on quite a bit now.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Next time, Rhosygilwen and other momentous occasions...</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Hwyl.</div>
</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdFNBqfUC0F48bJPQXF2IyZcJq-CV8z618jduJ7eyU1K79K90OVNdHbNZ6GnvlD3TW43KCuINnyq3RaFdjjqaIZaYMSlJFaoP1ESZ4KQmMyyrCGc7-G1StOS94SGJKUNiaunJ1SUGiSHk/s1600/CIMG3829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdFNBqfUC0F48bJPQXF2IyZcJq-CV8z618jduJ7eyU1K79K90OVNdHbNZ6GnvlD3TW43KCuINnyq3RaFdjjqaIZaYMSlJFaoP1ESZ4KQmMyyrCGc7-G1StOS94SGJKUNiaunJ1SUGiSHk/s320/CIMG3829.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
</div>
gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-81413488260324504002012-07-25T19:00:00.001-07:002012-07-25T19:02:18.520-07:00One Year, Week 19, 20 & 21 - Celtic crew, Cwps & Cwrs Madog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSn5p371tRWzSIyPqF78hBFvcBQikJH8ZZE53MfDNFNTmlf9hHrXAw8zyvEO_JAHBKFPdvqZBGhEfqkJF1R6UcEvjmOXIKjtKpmwiNYwc1IV8SVRhRkbZqsY2iKM4LvWR7MCTLU6bxp8/s1600/CIMG3625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSn5p371tRWzSIyPqF78hBFvcBQikJH8ZZE53MfDNFNTmlf9hHrXAw8zyvEO_JAHBKFPdvqZBGhEfqkJF1R6UcEvjmOXIKjtKpmwiNYwc1IV8SVRhRkbZqsY2iKM4LvWR7MCTLU6bxp8/s200/CIMG3625.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
Yes, now a year late...<br />
<br />
The Celtic crew... I haven't seen much of them lately. But last summer we were still playing football (lost to Penrhyncoch 11-3... one funny game!) and playing "Beans" and speaking Welsh and Mgoiyu... that sort of thing. It was time for Enrique to leave. Back to Columbia. It was sad to see him go, the end of an era I suppose.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpPQ2mIJD9-Hw53tVb2bc_8_XVWQQXEF6hggrn8u6Zcs8bx4sSE4B0UMpa0l41dW_aewTI-qfZzP0X5khQAUvhKKDyoKbARgbN2yp8J128tTON7F6HIntgBy81TCX4Q4LXFKrsuVQYeLE/s1600/CIMG3557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpPQ2mIJD9-Hw53tVb2bc_8_XVWQQXEF6hggrn8u6Zcs8bx4sSE4B0UMpa0l41dW_aewTI-qfZzP0X5khQAUvhKKDyoKbARgbN2yp8J128tTON7F6HIntgBy81TCX4Q4LXFKrsuVQYeLE/s200/CIMG3557.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A portion of the Celtic crew...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We had a big party one evening, and then another, and then a few of us came to see him off on the train. We sang the anthem, "Borza Populista" in front of the train as Enrique did final inspection. <br />
<br />
I don't know what the crowd of people must have thought, but we just didn't care.<br />
<br />
"Borza Populista!"<br />
<br />
<br />
Before going to the States, Keith asked Nette, Elsa, Gwil and myself to help out with this twmpath being held in the Cwps. It was a group of people from all around Europe for a conference of sorts. Actors possibly... led by an interesting fellow Iwan who knew Julie and Ceri Ffliwt (forgive my spelling). <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2mxDwkL-JmXDU8zPvzirQSbX7U3dJSbVET-ereonRXKiJAMr9DkBMv6o8zVtXigH7YA1Lrew7w0PgOnaC94_psjxL_nFAbiorDC59NRZk2veZAijhWE7K9tmAnZLo2hp8AGc8Ctis0Q/s1600/CIMG3601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2mxDwkL-JmXDU8zPvzirQSbX7U3dJSbVET-ereonRXKiJAMr9DkBMv6o8zVtXigH7YA1Lrew7w0PgOnaC94_psjxL_nFAbiorDC59NRZk2veZAijhWE7K9tmAnZLo2hp8AGc8Ctis0Q/s200/CIMG3601.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keith, Nette and Elsa - before the maze...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
He talked to me about the importance of a twmpath - the old pagan ways - mazes and labyrinths, hillocks and union of the goddess and god, movements to celebrate, rituals to mark moments in this life....<br />
<br />
The Romanians were counting (they thought I was counting in Romanian and I thought they were counting in Welsh), people chanting the calling, me jumping up on chairs, weaving in and out of all the people, music played was wonderful, Keith was on fire and cerddcegin (Nette, Elsa and Gwil) was beautiful and Ana was there to help us with the dances.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyAEtdH4GsMfajsmwCwtT5TRGDJYgb7nrhSv86mBxMxJrEZ2CC_dXd9g3ZOqNP95x94kdrGrYxYvYWbCVs2J0TnpT4QdGd8vvXb00Pt6CR2Vd8ns3BhGERiD-RsOanm9g4F7detjqFQQs/s1600/CIMG3637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyAEtdH4GsMfajsmwCwtT5TRGDJYgb7nrhSv86mBxMxJrEZ2CC_dXd9g3ZOqNP95x94kdrGrYxYvYWbCVs2J0TnpT4QdGd8vvXb00Pt6CR2Vd8ns3BhGERiD-RsOanm9g4F7detjqFQQs/s200/CIMG3637.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Julie and Ceri "Ffliwt"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Before leaving for the States, I had some time with Julie and Ceri "Ffliwt". We drove through the Black mountains. <br />
<br />
A landscape of remarkable beauty. Breathtaking beauty...<br />
<br />
I can't remember why or where we were going to, but it was the perfect afternoon. The Welsh landscape never ceases to amaze me.<br />
<br />
<br />
And then, it was time for me to travel to Cwrs Madog, that summer in Shenandoah, Virginia. <br />
<br />
There were fewer people this time around but the people that did come were all enthusiastic, spirited and fun. The group became one of the most tight knit that I've seen so far. I ended up directing the choir which turned out pretty good in the end. What a great bunch of people to work with, along with Tim on piano. This year we had a wild spread of ages - nearly every generation was represented - 14 to late 70s. This is the perfect way forward. If only more Welsh societies were able to involve their youth...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFF2iAgxn5PR1IJl1qYuXHN4Rt9C_v0sv6BPa82fAZuh2ckXOA2pc8Po10mAAv0gF_R-uAthCLlapGZf22J-AU3Ku1tfFgcAx0Is1PCxPlWXoxm7_m11xyaoC7sYVD7LmPEnzNsHEHB4c/s1600/CIMG3689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFF2iAgxn5PR1IJl1qYuXHN4Rt9C_v0sv6BPa82fAZuh2ckXOA2pc8Po10mAAv0gF_R-uAthCLlapGZf22J-AU3Ku1tfFgcAx0Is1PCxPlWXoxm7_m11xyaoC7sYVD7LmPEnzNsHEHB4c/s200/CIMG3689.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Pirates!! ARGGGH!!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The noson lawen was great. Also one of the best I've seen. Old and young, newbies and veterans all performed. Some great performances, especially by Lefel Un. The Pirates! Who could ever forget the Pirates! Rob won the Madog Eisteddfod for the second year in a row.<br />
<br />
We sang in the pub and managed to get kicked out of one for singing too loud. How cool is that?! Spoke Welsh all week, with Geraint as the head tutor, and got to hear my dad speak quite a lot as well. We watched "Patagonia" (the film that had Gren as one of the producers) which was very good. We also visited Harper's Ferry which was interesting - very, very hot day and people there in period dress.<br />
<br />
Anyway, you can read more about it and see some more photos here at www.madog.org There's also a video of the choir somewhere out there on the interwebs.<br />
<br />
Of course, it was a lot of work to organize it all. ...but worth the effort. And the entire Society are all hard working, good-hearted people and what that they do is important in my opinion.<br />
<br />
If only more people in Wales could see these Americans learning Welsh - it is inspiring...<br />
<br />
Anyway, that's my crazy little North American family of Welsh speakers. How odd, how wonderful, how touching...<br />
<br />
...only in America, as they say!<br />
<br />
Next, the National Eisteddfod, BVB, Cwrs Haf and that sorf of thing...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-39746395650419058332012-07-04T04:01:00.001-07:002012-07-04T11:31:21.055-07:00One Year, Week 16, 17 & 18 - Cardiff, Cwm Du & Sille's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPcJ7YKTngGoV-bkjEEfhXhRgdV4sK40immrq9QRaO6bYO3J8u2-2lz4cYR9lBKZvKQyIiAqQns5Y8KAAOmAoMAE1v3UJS3N3uHUqHftYsi4OR6LsmGPdIcV1CgSoxdd7jFDJsoDuCaY/s1600/CIMG3653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPcJ7YKTngGoV-bkjEEfhXhRgdV4sK40immrq9QRaO6bYO3J8u2-2lz4cYR9lBKZvKQyIiAqQns5Y8KAAOmAoMAE1v3UJS3N3uHUqHftYsi4OR6LsmGPdIcV1CgSoxdd7jFDJsoDuCaY/s200/CIMG3653.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
"Life is made of meetings and partings. That is the way of it." - Kermit the Frog<br />
*sigh...<br />
<br />
Well, yes, nearly a year behind now. If I maybe write a little everyday and summarize some of the weeks, maybe, just maybe, I'll catch up.<br />
<br />
It's all a blur now anyway...<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
Cardiff - summer of 2011<br />
<br />
I remember playing at Milgi's restaurant in Cardiff. Milgi's is a vaguely alternative restaurant near Albany road in Cardiff - very nice vegetarian food. There's a big yurt set up in their back yard, nice and cozy. Once every month, a group of story tellers meet and hold court in the yurt. It's organized by Guto Dafis and David Ambrose. It was here that I saw Guto play again, and met up with this great story teller Michael Harvey. They both spoke Welsh. Michael is from Scotland originally I think. There was also Nathan (a guitar player I had met at one of Guto's gigs) who played a very beautiful and interesting version of Myfanwy with a cello player. There's someone who's taken Ceri "Ffliwt"'s lessons to heart. I was quite nervous for the evening. It's not often I play solo gigs and I found it difficult. I met someone very nice named Nicola and she inspired me to sing my Canadian song. I don't think it was the best performance I've ever done but each gig is a learning experience and a step along.<br />
<br />
Guto played some gorgeous tunes on the box. A wonderful player that should be gigging everywhere. And Michael is probably the best storyteller I've ever heard and met. His style is so natural... moments of lightness and humour, darkness and sorrow and joy all mixed playfully in a natural speaking style and comfortable body movements. Masterful really. Absolutely masterful. The two of us played one set together, harp and storyteller, an improvisation. It was quite cool... though I did manage to take it from the sublime to the ridiculous by a comically timed, harp glissando. We all had a laugh and Michael (thankfully!) was able to use it to lighten the mood further, and improvised a little side story. As I said, he's impressive. It would be great to work with him some more in the future if "the fates allow". <br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqeNHr3Bi03Nl1T4Oeu6ndfCo9JsCryzPMPIPvDXQI053NjL1hD3OTv06Fl-NKCYKm5lWGGmnqn89EqoMGRL2WYEcUK4vw0tctNvjqsFF9r7OQ3nffw2p3GS8iqS6ojxvGI6sAEmTuLI/s1600/CIMG3589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqeNHr3Bi03Nl1T4Oeu6ndfCo9JsCryzPMPIPvDXQI053NjL1hD3OTv06Fl-NKCYKm5lWGGmnqn89EqoMGRL2WYEcUK4vw0tctNvjqsFF9r7OQ3nffw2p3GS8iqS6ojxvGI6sAEmTuLI/s200/CIMG3589.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jas and Stef under the big tent</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Later that summer, at some point, I was in Cwm Du, in the mud and rain for a twmpath held under a big red and yellow tent. I played with Jas, Sille and Martin along with Stef and Peni. The music was amazing. The dancing was quite humourous, slipping and sliding in the mud. Elsa was there dancing in her wellies. She danced with me and sometimes with Dai. Vicky, Dai's daughter was sick I think. Huw Denman was there having a great time. I was over the moon to see Elsa there and her company was warm and interesting as always.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibzEZYF-BFhoGjKaPLL1_hTFKCReQ3vo91sM4Yb9n71Tnthmp5eGoIjs3AeYzG5Flh5fA1Ot3E9cr-e1NclGxM5NjnB_UXavk3Jqb0eE6bF5UJ5XEz0YTjLbC9gvTkJeXVnleAY6gyRto/s1600/CIMG3593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibzEZYF-BFhoGjKaPLL1_hTFKCReQ3vo91sM4Yb9n71Tnthmp5eGoIjs3AeYzG5Flh5fA1Ot3E9cr-e1NclGxM5NjnB_UXavk3Jqb0eE6bF5UJ5XEz0YTjLbC9gvTkJeXVnleAY6gyRto/s200/CIMG3593.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martin & Sille</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I think it was also around that time that Sille had a big birthday party. Their little house was absolutely packed to the brim and we played music all night, celebrating Sille's day. Literally, all night. I even played some old timey harp at some point! Phil Drums and Jackie Fiddle were there as well as Ceri Ffliwt, Julie, Elsa, the entire "crew" really... food, cake, laughter, drink - a beautiful moment in time! A moment of friendship and joy and pure music. Sille and Martin have always been inspired musically and I can't believe how lucky I am to know these two. They have good hearts... Anyway, next morning, all there is to say is, "Tea Saves Lives" - <i>Sille Ilves</i>.<br />
<br />
Have I told you to buy one of their "Sild" albums yet? Surely I have. If you don't own a copy by now, you should. I hope they'll be making a third album soon.<br />
<br />
<br />
There may have also been an Ystalyfera twmpath as well but not fully sure now. If it's the one I'm thinking of, the dance was lightly attended but all were spirited. Ieuan was also there with his interesting and off the wall stories.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
So what happened next.... was it getting ready to travel?? I think so.<br />
<br />
Next, Cwrs Madog and the States...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagCfxErVxdn-z7LMOFMGAm0P3r9szj0XATl-tadGeHNsynLEduYuU9fdTfqr1Q3Au8CN-CrV6_x3djUjhRTtfdr8EZqAK7DmLcoqYwZ-ioauQYty8DjDvibsJ81jbQGFJBFn-jwE8bn4/s1600/CIMG3582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagCfxErVxdn-z7LMOFMGAm0P3r9szj0XATl-tadGeHNsynLEduYuU9fdTfqr1Q3Au8CN-CrV6_x3djUjhRTtfdr8EZqAK7DmLcoqYwZ-ioauQYty8DjDvibsJ81jbQGFJBFn-jwE8bn4/s320/CIMG3582.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hen dy bach - old fashioned washroom!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br /></div>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-90469036323013285202012-03-29T11:23:00.000-07:002012-03-29T11:23:45.135-07:00One Year, Week 15 - Llangranog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl0UV2F1byl1jEAPcEX1BEoISjkKVvXI3LF7iF8k_WnKe4X0rBOCPJ_1EGPFeK7izaeNq5_9S4wVkr3MuPybwpo-S9xJ6ZhCFhiuFGb0d5K_UvxaJoj6QJ8LzZN5pthqLFtcZw-0QwO34/s1600/CIMG1561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl0UV2F1byl1jEAPcEX1BEoISjkKVvXI3LF7iF8k_WnKe4X0rBOCPJ_1EGPFeK7izaeNq5_9S4wVkr3MuPybwpo-S9xJ6ZhCFhiuFGb0d5K_UvxaJoj6QJ8LzZN5pthqLFtcZw-0QwO34/s200/CIMG1561.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Yes, yes... I know. Been ages, right? Well, happily it's because I've been so ridiculously busy that I haven't been able to get to the blog. Must be at least eight months behind. I'm tempted just to start in the here and now but so many amazing things have happened that I think I'll try to recount all of that. Probably will lump a few things together for brevity's sake.<br />
<br />
So here it is, imagine it now, last summer, a warm and lovely day, visiting my families old home...<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
I visited Llangranog mid-week. I hadn't been in quite awhile. I had a great visit with Enfys before Gari took me to the Pentre Arms. We started drinking cider and ran into Jeffrey and Liz Probert, my dad's old friends. I also met with other local people who remembered my Dad. They all said I looked just like him. At any rate, I drank far too much cider but somehow managed to stumble back over to Enfys' house.<br />
<br />
Gari and Enfys seem to be doing well though Pwyll is missed terribly.<br />
<br />
That Saturday, I came back to Llangranog to see this festival there called "Nol a M'lan". Elsa was keen on visiting there with me so we went together in her car. We parked outside of Capelywig and went for a long hike before heading down to Llangranog. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj00kXb_HYEH2FHDUgy7sSL-HsM1egYW_tjJmhEIma-bZ7ipsJ1EIXqB8EzFOTRXkyVuutW6MnNf4MKYQMTt4W5sZGuEX-zfza889SfB8xep7Z8BmjJDueYr3lpy7VsqQhnFwzdXAY8p1U/s1600/DSCF0057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj00kXb_HYEH2FHDUgy7sSL-HsM1egYW_tjJmhEIma-bZ7ipsJ1EIXqB8EzFOTRXkyVuutW6MnNf4MKYQMTt4W5sZGuEX-zfza889SfB8xep7Z8BmjJDueYr3lpy7VsqQhnFwzdXAY8p1U/s200/DSCF0057.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It was wonderful to be able to show Elsa the house Gwalior and the Foel house. We carried on towards the Foel hill. <br />
<br />
We met this woman there who tried to stop us from going to the top of the Foel. I calmly explained who we were, who I was related to. She thought Elsa was my partner and we explained that we were just friends. The woman said, "well, that's how it starts." Elsa turned beet red which made me laugh. The woman must have been lonely because she talked for some time. She had known Pwyll and was quite sad over the loss.<br />
<br />
The view from the Foel was incredible mixed with the warm sun and the coconut smell of the yellow gorse... definitely a day for a picnic. We tried to walk from the top of the Foel back to the village along the coast but even after clamouring over several fences and gorse bushes we just couldn't find a path. We gave it a valiant attempt but had to turn around in the end. It didn't matter as it was a lovely day with great company. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ld4gH9LL1tFvJHphFBSmHp7TYN3mEotTzlBWElwGN8ZH4-IfIh4VrfFnF3ppWeX958YZD0pWrmWJEP_cVnxmeI1y4Bv9XWMY1YZjEVP5xCXDaDjSYbAyapjfgyi0vljE-7l0Ki7mRV0/s1600/Jane+Owen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ld4gH9LL1tFvJHphFBSmHp7TYN3mEotTzlBWElwGN8ZH4-IfIh4VrfFnF3ppWeX958YZD0pWrmWJEP_cVnxmeI1y4Bv9XWMY1YZjEVP5xCXDaDjSYbAyapjfgyi0vljE-7l0Ki7mRV0/s200/Jane+Owen.jpg" width="169" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jane "Carnowen" Owen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>On the way back, there was a man working on my great-grandmother's house, Carnowen. I explained how I was related and the man said he got goosebumps. We were invited in to see the place. Matt and Jo are the people living there now with their children. They were very sweet and kind and gave us a tour of the house. They've done an incredible job restoring and maintaining the house as it must have once been. They make wonderful conserves and jams there as well. Carnowen jam... how cool! Definitely worth buying... http://www.facebook.com/Carnowen?sk=info<br />
<br />
They gave us a free pot of jam at any rate and I later sent them some of the stories that I knew about the place and its people along with some photos. They're going to tuck them away for future generations to find...<br />
<br />
We eventually made it down to the festival itself... a couple of good bands played. I can't remember now all of them. "Bois y Fro" were a small barbershop type group. I really enjoyed them. Thought they were quite good singers. I think the other band I really liked was "Colorama" from Cardiff. Welsh Indie pop, very tasteful music in Welsh.<br />
<br />
The final singer I wasn't keen on. Quite cheezy-tastic ...can't remember his name... though he seemed really popular with the crowd. Don't know why they enjoy the cheezy stuff so much... Buddug showed up later in the evening with her parents. It was great to see her again as she'd been working on the farm by then... at least, as far as I can remember. Elsa had to leave early cause she had a gig with Llawer Mwy that evening in the Conrah hotel.<br />
<br />
I stayed that night at Enfys' house and had a nice breakfast in the morning. She gave me a lift back to New Quay and Elsa gave me a lift back to Aberystwyth.<br />
<br />
What an amazing weekend!<br />
<br />
<br />
...<br />
Anyway, that's vaguely all I can remember. Will do my best to write some more but I've been traveling so much that I can't promise anything. Also my camera was (and still is) acting up so I don't have as much for photos as I'd like.<br />
<br />
<br />
Next, onto Cardiff, Cwm Du and the 'Fera Twmpath.<br />
<br />
Hwyl.gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-65939592410739775832011-10-26T15:32:00.000-07:002011-10-26T15:33:11.983-07:00One Year, Week 14 - Recording with Julie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuvJddmsNvK5HW7J2WnB-hlxpLjPqNBiImJjAQ0-q-EAxQ99g3MV9KDAV0n07zL0XYAL6oGRCSoREElHcoomQ8g6-WAZDLgCF8QWWixDpDMqU93vFidx1-xYyfy63VguMx8V8qTDJguSo/s1600/CIMG3526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuvJddmsNvK5HW7J2WnB-hlxpLjPqNBiImJjAQ0-q-EAxQ99g3MV9KDAV0n07zL0XYAL6oGRCSoREElHcoomQ8g6-WAZDLgCF8QWWixDpDMqU93vFidx1-xYyfy63VguMx8V8qTDJguSo/s200/CIMG3526.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Dreams...<br />
<br />
This is it... here...<br />
<br />
All that I left behind, this long journey, all culminates in this moment. I don't think I could have dreamed up something so unbelievable, so incredible...<br />
<br />
I have written often about Julie. Julie was the one and only Welsh singer that caught my attention all those years ago. Her music is what inspired me to take an interest in Welsh music. Her voice is the voice I hear at night, the voice that carries me forward on my journey.<br />
<br />
How is it that I'm now recording with my guide and mentor... I don't know. But I do know that I now count both Julie and Ceri "Ffliwt" amongst my closest friends.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYtbEOf1beIFesl1wg0ZZCzdyZo8TMhA4K1ygaGMsKuSK93wSDOqfTtgTHtQmTojKrubdArYtysbecAbKUk7n7nl4oM4SH3oTO6xXAWj2oB6eNibMDssGvmo-pgrIrHhrcDOO22zymgE/s1600/CIMG3544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYtbEOf1beIFesl1wg0ZZCzdyZo8TMhA4K1ygaGMsKuSK93wSDOqfTtgTHtQmTojKrubdArYtysbecAbKUk7n7nl4oM4SH3oTO6xXAWj2oB6eNibMDssGvmo-pgrIrHhrcDOO22zymgE/s200/CIMG3544.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>We started early. Jens brought his gear with him to Pencader where we were to record. I think it was the third time that I had recorded with him during the year. He introduced me to this crazy volcanic mud drink during the session... I actually grew to like them. Ceri "Ffliwt" made food for us so that we wouldn't have to worry about anything else...<br />
<br />
Of course, I was quite nervous about the whole thing. I played my trombone and though I'm well past my prime on that instrument, I think it went quite well. Basically, I did my best to emulate Julie's voice throughout. I was much more nervous about the harp. It's still a relatively new instrument for me, but, for the most part, the harp went alright. And whenever it got a bit tense, Jens would pull out some wicked tidbit from his Profanisaurus.<br />
<br />
Naturally, Julie was amazing.<br />
<br />
Her voice the earth herself embodied in sound, the silence before dark, the start of all creation... and her piano playing was brilliant! She took several risks with some heavy improvisations... massively impressive. Before the recording, at one point I looked over at her and had a vision of Thelonious Monk.<br />
<br />
There were moments of quiet intense emotion...<br />
<br />
So I won't say more, other than, I hope you'll all buy the album when it comes out. It is something that I am intensely proud of.<br />
<br />
<br />
Next, onto Llangrannog with Elsa...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD90nZzbVMFPpcg7L0EBHjD1FQdstaPvWdBEbYnTkxqz2jN4Dzypw4YnCR18yL0kBLPjCh7I9g8ZzUbymqozB9ia2FpowkwB-Tk883QRQuWEB0q_naSI9hBB-FNdCzOwLJzYNVXq3Qrnc/s1600/CIMG3537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD90nZzbVMFPpcg7L0EBHjD1FQdstaPvWdBEbYnTkxqz2jN4Dzypw4YnCR18yL0kBLPjCh7I9g8ZzUbymqozB9ia2FpowkwB-Tk883QRQuWEB0q_naSI9hBB-FNdCzOwLJzYNVXq3Qrnc/s200/CIMG3537.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-64715518773311270702011-10-07T14:04:00.000-07:002011-10-07T14:51:47.045-07:00One Year, Week 13 - Relations and Irish music<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOlLXLy_E2NmGqagS5FzgPZoxPhOwgM95Rss_VEfXVOQF108cux1afhfLaoa2pVs_DPhbLkKM_uJNZf01oP3IrYRO55BoWGIxobHTwk8NHLeDoEfXIb-lbAs5pzSQBfuL1v38eoI56dA/s1600/CIMG3474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOlLXLy_E2NmGqagS5FzgPZoxPhOwgM95Rss_VEfXVOQF108cux1afhfLaoa2pVs_DPhbLkKM_uJNZf01oP3IrYRO55BoWGIxobHTwk8NHLeDoEfXIb-lbAs5pzSQBfuL1v38eoI56dA/s200/CIMG3474.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Borscht (beetroot soup) is my favourite food. Just to let you know...<br />
<br />
My dad used to say that Y Gof (the blacksmith) was magic. That must have been true. They seemed to have had some sort of secret knowledge anyway. My grandfather, who was descended from a Blacksmith family on his father's side, was an exceptional poet. I think he mainly wrote in the old style, using a form of Welsh poem called the Englyn. Englyn are amazing little snapshots, using only 30 syllables (7+3, 6, 7, 7) and a form of alliteration that twirls in upon itself like Celtic knotwork.<br />
<br />
My grandfather, John "Jac Carnowen" Owen-Jones, was captain of a ship and his first mate was his cousin, Jac Alun Jones of Cilie. Jac Alun was also descended from a blacksmith and his family were quite well known for their poetry at one point.<br />
<br />
The two wrote several poems to each other, some of which are published in Morwyr y Cilie by Jon Meirion (mab Jac Alun).<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivamOzLxzsj6MyZFCmzz4AN7FUgIakZKMI8HrvN9GD3qJf2-KCC0JqfIi6vJ0evxN4pfyreSLmHjsZKRR_4yd_oA16NufHNOlA5khw9fGXk5EbyRZuP0RNqtalnNO6CoaCgEoyAMwPvfg/s1600/john+%2522jac+carnowen%2522+owen-jones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivamOzLxzsj6MyZFCmzz4AN7FUgIakZKMI8HrvN9GD3qJf2-KCC0JqfIi6vJ0evxN4pfyreSLmHjsZKRR_4yd_oA16NufHNOlA5khw9fGXk5EbyRZuP0RNqtalnNO6CoaCgEoyAMwPvfg/s320/john+%2522jac+carnowen%2522+owen-jones.jpg" width="192" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captain John Owen-Jones</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Here's a picture of my grandfather. He has very kind eyes and I think we look rather similar. <br />
<br />
He died quite young and I recently heard that his grave in Buenos Aires is still well kept...<br />
<br />
Here's one of his poems that I found in the library...<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>I Alun Jones a Miss Ellena Owen, Capelywig 1933, Mehefin 6</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Cwlwm Priodas</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
Wele y gwr hael o Gaer-wen - yn awr<br />
o dan haul ei Elen<br />
Y lanaf, fwynaf feinwen<br />
Oleua nos niwl ei nen.<br />
<br />
<i> gan John Owen-Jones</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<br />
A beautiful and touching poem...<br />
<br />
I'm also descended from the Foel house which was a massive family and through them we're somehow (yet again) tied to the Cilie... though how and when exactly is beyond my memory but both my dad and aunty Susan insist on it. And when I met Dafydd Iwan last summer, he exclaimed, "Dyn ni'n perthynas!" (We're related!) ...so that's enough.<br />
<br />
Strangely, very few of the Cilie descendants were trained in the art. A very real shame, which leaves me rather unimpressed with the whole affair. So may I be known for who I am and what I do in place of all else...<br />
<br />
<br />
Now, a word about Irish music...<br />
<br />
I've heard some Irish musicians that I consider to be exceptional. But for some reason, Irish music itself has never really seemed very interesting to me. Welsh and Breton music on the other hand, I find fascinating.<br />
<br />
For one thing, Irish music, as it's come down to us, isn't that old really. Diarmuid Johnson Irish flute player, in his book Y Gwyddel, does himself state that Irish music isn't generally older than the 1800s.<br />
<br />
Quite a few Celtic books that I've read focus mainly on the Irish tradition which is fine but, once again, to me Welsh literature is far more intriguing, richer, deeper and contains more archaic material...<br />
<br />
But before I digress too much, this is what I hear when I hear Irish music.<br />
<br />
Quite a few of the Irish musicians that I've met (though not all) seem to approach the music and their instruments in the same fashion I would approach the trombone if I were playing funk music. Which is to say, in funk music there's only one way to get that sound. Over blow - absolutely blast through the instrument in order to make the metal (or wood) sympathetically reverberate against itself, then keep the tongue tight against the teeth with very tight, clipped and clean notes and ornamentation (mostly turns and triplets). <br />
<br />
That's what Irish music sounds like to me. Of course, since the music has become divorced from its dance origins, it's often far too fast and, for my taste, much too flashy. It's not very melodic in particular, which makes it difficult to find chords that work, because basically all chords work... if you catch my meaning.<br />
<br />
To me, Welsh music is heaps more interesting. Yes, there are quite a few rumpty-pumpty tunes played by the usual suspects but on the whole, the best of the tunes are much more melodic, and generally speaking, much more emotive and much more curious.<br />
<br />
Plus, it is an older tradition. The earliest published tunes are from the early 1700s but many of the dance tunes can be traced back to the late 1500s.<br />
<br />
And then there's the Robert ap Huw "Peroriaeth" manuscript ...a manuscript which reflects a tradition that is older than most Celtic music available (written in 1613 but tunes dating from the 1200s through the 1500s). Although I've heard some try to claim this as marked by Irish influence, it is clearly not. It doesn't take a genius to see that the music itself is strongly influenced from the continent as well as upholding some native traditions. Other than a couple of Irish sounding names in two or three of the metres (and the spurious claims of influence from Gruffudd ap Cynan), I'd have to say, very little Irish to be found there.<br />
<br />
To be honest though, after a chat with Ceri "Ffliwt" and some intense listening sessions, it seems to me, Scottish music is where it's at (at least some of it). It appears to hold traditions ('pibroch' in particular) that are even older than the apHuw (though vaguely related), and perhaps deeper. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD2a96ibK2ZKleosWUHyRObIwk1gMaO7iv0lXOlQ8HaYjSBgW7kUetjKjnKJT3oqbxo7-7UGDfwofA4l2z396sdV96hVMjIRzsxTDzZZZWAl9BAFfCnglmOdIOL-3u8rQQtpvVJWjfF_g/s1600/CIMG3513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD2a96ibK2ZKleosWUHyRObIwk1gMaO7iv0lXOlQ8HaYjSBgW7kUetjKjnKJT3oqbxo7-7UGDfwofA4l2z396sdV96hVMjIRzsxTDzZZZWAl9BAFfCnglmOdIOL-3u8rQQtpvVJWjfF_g/s200/CIMG3513.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Y Gwyddel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>At any rate, it was this week that I ran into Diarmuid a couple of times. He had quite an impact on me the last time we had met over three years ago. And he was to do so once again. <br />
<br />
We are, it seems, one and the same. We are very much alike, except for some accidents of birth and a couple of different choices along the path...<br />
<br />
His frustrations mirror mine nearly exactly, though I express mine in a different manner...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsVh4JBW7p0PuKEr4gDbj2cNhOyvJiPgxZffqwFGAD0I3CIs7TO71UItlo94vpDhKffl7Y_5cqm-5MxrjYJqKH7tfzTERQUOD0-Wa0mWnEGwW4ErblCyhCxdxM3vDrDo7wP9Z7616zgwI/s1600/CIMG3512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsVh4JBW7p0PuKEr4gDbj2cNhOyvJiPgxZffqwFGAD0I3CIs7TO71UItlo94vpDhKffl7Y_5cqm-5MxrjYJqKH7tfzTERQUOD0-Wa0mWnEGwW4ErblCyhCxdxM3vDrDo7wP9Z7616zgwI/s200/CIMG3512.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Straight Path</td></tr>
</tbody></table>He's chosen a difficult path and I don't envy him. Last I heard he was off to the continent to teach at some University there. <br />
<br />
Some paths are straight and therefore seem easy going and safe.<br />
<br />
Though mine, at first glance, appears harder to navigate and absolutely treacherous... there's all sorts of interesting alcoves, thick yellow gorse, valleys and meadows, odd and curious bits of rock, bubbling springs, thick moss for which to lie and trees for which to shelter when it rains. <br />
<br />
There is no shelter on the straight path, no place to rest one's weary feet.<br />
<br />
<br />
I wish Diarmuid all the best, where ever the wind may take him. May our paths cross once again and hopefully, next time, we'll find a meeting place in the void to traverse the music of the spheres together. <br />
<br />
Da bo fy ffrind, Diarmuid...<br />
<br />
<br />
Next, recording with Julie Murphy...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHB5hACtpdIZco4pg-Hw7zXTyVR59ADJIEyxWl5FQi-arfHJnVqv83TyTyemLJpYcEkWC7hh74v_gVCAz5XW6P5R2B0mCwWp5-AD8BcaEwKrvE8HsiLQ6nlajfTB6agCHS9f7ijkxgrww/s1600/CIMG3633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHB5hACtpdIZco4pg-Hw7zXTyVR59ADJIEyxWl5FQi-arfHJnVqv83TyTyemLJpYcEkWC7hh74v_gVCAz5XW6P5R2B0mCwWp5-AD8BcaEwKrvE8HsiLQ6nlajfTB6agCHS9f7ijkxgrww/s320/CIMG3633.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Path...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-87175420366971327742011-09-16T02:51:00.000-07:002011-09-16T02:51:00.904-07:00One Year, Week 10, 11 & 12 - The Reunion and Twmpathe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRpTAppl-PJF_lHzIrZCqrIMvSeBU9U9qOCDaTA7WANVp0MITDblzoceBfF4tyvaBX74lsSDqcTfXedWVECAJM1v6Q_mZ5Rw8C5Azo9ia6dy7IB3xgCu7bi0GMchlr-8t3S6bMIWi4vQE/s1600/CIMG3492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRpTAppl-PJF_lHzIrZCqrIMvSeBU9U9qOCDaTA7WANVp0MITDblzoceBfF4tyvaBX74lsSDqcTfXedWVECAJM1v6Q_mZ5Rw8C5Azo9ia6dy7IB3xgCu7bi0GMchlr-8t3S6bMIWi4vQE/s200/CIMG3492.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><b>Week 10</b><br />
The Reunion...<br />
<br />
Richard asked me to come visit the Cwps session again, which I decided to do. And, of course, who I should I run into but none other than the infamous duo, Bjorn and Ifor.<br />
<br />
They followed me up the stairs to join in on the English session. <br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>As you know, the last session I'd been to was so utterly nationalistically English that I thought it best this time to go full on and sing in Welsh. The leader, (I think his name is Mike) pondered about why more Welshies didn't come to the session. Mmm, me wonders, eh? But he did thank me for singing in Welsh, so fair enough. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXZYSfiSH_CykegiMGkbu_7MjUSYt7IF0gJN0EACnOecTmebVV2HGmCJW7G2jcyrRPwZqZwe1IBVnpqWWlxYNA238uDE0FlH0Mu6GVh1UvwiBiXNwNixDbeIYX0-KWpeGAfKX4YvSvgs/s1600/ceri+harp+y+cwps.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="119" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXZYSfiSH_CykegiMGkbu_7MjUSYt7IF0gJN0EACnOecTmebVV2HGmCJW7G2jcyrRPwZqZwe1IBVnpqWWlxYNA238uDE0FlH0Mu6GVh1UvwiBiXNwNixDbeIYX0-KWpeGAfKX4YvSvgs/s200/ceri+harp+y+cwps.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me - Ceri "Canada"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>A singer and piano player named Dolly and her London crew were there. Perhaps all in their twenties. They were incredible and did lighten up the evening. Dolly was a fan of Fernhill and was helping to organize a festival out in the mountains. I had hoped to go but just couldn't make it. Dolly thought Ifor and myself looked like brothers which made me laugh. There was an old boy there singing in some crazy Beefheart/Moondog style. There was also a boy and girl who sang in a 20's style. Enrique and Kit showed up and Kit sang a lovely Irish song as well. Very eclectic evening.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, Ifor, Bjorn and myself made the most of our reunion. Somehow, several pints later (though I don't entirely remember how) we ended up at the Angel dancing and head-banging with the Goths. A sight to behold! I actually got accepted into their circle for a brief moment. I think I ate some pizza afterwards but can't be certain. Epic night!<br />
<br />
<br />
I played football that Friday with my Celtic friends before going to the Breton dancing. Gwil wasn't there and the band was over run by non-musicians. Made for a sloppy night of music, very tricksy to dance along. And some of the musician guests there had unclean hearts and I could hear it in their playing. I found it difficult.<br />
<br />
Afterwards, I had supper with my Celtic compatriots, the Populista. Ah, my Celtic crew... I enjoy their company very much! A good evening.<br />
<br />
I think I went to Cei Newydd the next day to visit my Aunty Susan and Elsa. I remember Elsa and I played some music, visited and went for a bit of a walk. As always, it's brilliant to play with Elsa. There's so much I could say about her. As my old music teacher Bob would have said, "What a voice!" A beautiful and eloquent musician.<br />
<br />
Sorry, my memories of that time have already faded. I don't think I could add more.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEEWgqpxCpsXtOQbGy0wbvcTFZMireFJhTdnaw5LO342X5TeimfSqxi_nEhlE1y98qmK651MJkW99Ck76476Fcp537M_TgYdW-WRfRHpCcwh1QHomIvK17m_5RdO1OlcO3RzaPwT-cciY/s1600/CIMG3490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEEWgqpxCpsXtOQbGy0wbvcTFZMireFJhTdnaw5LO342X5TeimfSqxi_nEhlE1y98qmK651MJkW99Ck76476Fcp537M_TgYdW-WRfRHpCcwh1QHomIvK17m_5RdO1OlcO3RzaPwT-cciY/s320/CIMG3490.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elsa enjoying the Promenade, Aber</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b>Weeks 11 & 12</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I seriously don't remember these next couple of weeks.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYku0QSqkBcht14H7Pk6KnWQ6iwFektmqqeKHEwmi-7LElcr_27WrvRjE3Osml0DidJlusGulAe_XikHTmNeFuWWS_tRbVGfOlRcS5UMKMW-KDJBxG9iBqGXmSkOGch14s98AgUnaVXk/s1600/IMG_0472.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYku0QSqkBcht14H7Pk6KnWQ6iwFektmqqeKHEwmi-7LElcr_27WrvRjE3Osml0DidJlusGulAe_XikHTmNeFuWWS_tRbVGfOlRcS5UMKMW-KDJBxG9iBqGXmSkOGch14s98AgUnaVXk/s200/IMG_0472.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cerddcegin - pixie music</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I do know that I'd been practicing an awful lot with Nettie and Elsa, trying to prepare for the Abercych Twmpath. Unfortunately, Gwil was busy and not able to make the gig. Nettie and Elsa were both pretty nervous... we sat in the car before the gig and I sang "Homeward Bound" with Nettie, trying to keep everything nice and relaxed... and, as it was, we were sharing the stage with Ceri "Ffliwt", Julie, Sille and Martin, so they really did the bulk of the work. Martin did the calling, thankfully, as I would not have been able to call such a big crowd of people. I played quite a few tunes with them as well. Cerddcegin did extremely well for one of our first real outings. Nettie and Elsa both sounded great and I think they were both, after it was all said and done, very excited to have had such an experience. Sille said we sounded like pixie music. Proper pixie music. I think she's probably right.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I played a couple of tunes with Julie... we've been working on a bunch of her tunes but more on that later... Anyway, the Abercych Twmpath really is amazing. As I've written before, a great mix of people. Simon's created a good happening.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I think we all went to Ceri "Ffliwt" and Julie's house afterwards for a late night jam session which continued the following day...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">On my birthday, I decided to hold a Twmpath. Not really to celebrate my birthday, because I'm not fond of birthdays, but as a way to hang out with my friends and as a way to play with Cerddcegin as a whole unit - Gwil, Elsa, Nettie and myself. It was a fantastic night.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Mandy and Diarmuid showed up as well as Bethan, Felicity, Jaci, Harriet, Polly and all of my Celtic friends... literally all of them!! They'd made me these little cakes and everyone brought me presents. How sweet is that?! I was really touched by the outpouring to be honest.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I called the dances and I think it went alright. Half in Welsh, half in English. And I actually enjoyed celebrating my birthday in the end. Cerddcegin were brilliant, absolutely brilliant, and my Celtic crew were so kind and generous. A great celebration.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Elsa and I shared tea afterwards in the original cegin where it all started. Perfection!<br />
<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That's the best I can remember for the moment. It was quite awhile ago...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Next, Irish music and such...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Hwyl.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwuWvyGotMHZdWOu1hfvZ0uhf5VEeXfWljPDN1ExcXYdXaLPfRo-S5JbxKO1rK4iIm_xkiY2tPUMjKcPlfDn1Kn4gaxbLzHz7mBfvSGmN7bazNcBzU44jdTvN08xLIjqz97vawRoWcE9c/s1600/IMG_0500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwuWvyGotMHZdWOu1hfvZ0uhf5VEeXfWljPDN1ExcXYdXaLPfRo-S5JbxKO1rK4iIm_xkiY2tPUMjKcPlfDn1Kn4gaxbLzHz7mBfvSGmN7bazNcBzU44jdTvN08xLIjqz97vawRoWcE9c/s320/IMG_0500.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kitchen Music in the House of Minstrels</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-64635271966586215932011-08-26T09:54:00.000-07:002011-08-28T08:40:04.712-07:00One Year, Week 9 - The Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVcYl2cVbcfeVoXIWsat74sGTT9UZfQ_ABadNrJRhroSO9kHtsTKXTF0jZRHhh3fccE21BgXn5YsHRG-_e0p90vGGBt4_52SbUQYAuy7mG8JjiDrgvi8C2ceV_rAps1_U_-1lMv5u3Mos/s1600/CIMG3466.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVcYl2cVbcfeVoXIWsat74sGTT9UZfQ_ABadNrJRhroSO9kHtsTKXTF0jZRHhh3fccE21BgXn5YsHRG-_e0p90vGGBt4_52SbUQYAuy7mG8JjiDrgvi8C2ceV_rAps1_U_-1lMv5u3Mos/s200/CIMG3466.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>The Party...<br />
<br />
I went to The Party on the weekend. It was surreal.<br />
<br />
<br />
But before I get into that, I should say this.<br />
<br />
It starts here... about four years ago, I had three or four harp lessons with Siân James. It was the first time I ever played the harp.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Now, in Canada, one of my "missions" has been to spread awareness of Welsh culture in North America through various methods - handing out daffodils on St. David's day, repeating ad nauseam Llanfair P.G. mid-conversation, recommending Welsh music which to listen, pointing out where Wales is on the map... that sort of thing.<br />
<br />
You'd be surprised to know how few people from afar have actually heard about the place... one of the better responses I remember hearing was, "Isn't that in England somewhere?"<br />
<br />
So, I've been spreading the word, little by little... Wales is a little country, with a different language, poetry and music...<br />
<br />
Anyway, four years ago I had some harp lessons with Siân James... as I said, not many but a few... nevertheless they were very powerful and meaningful to me.... In my previous life in Canada, the conversation would run something like this...<br />
<br />
<i>"Who have you studied harp with?"</i><br />
<br />
<i><i>"Siân James."</i></i><br />
<br />
<i>"Never heard of her. Who's that?"</i><br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>"She's this great harp player and singer from Wales. You really must buy her albums."</i></span></i><br />
<br />
<i>"Sure. Okay... now, where exactly is this Wales place? Is that in England or something?"</i><br />
<br />
You get the picture. Okay, fast-foward to life in Wales... and listen to this conversation I had with a Welsh woman some months ago.<br />
<br />
<i>"Who have you studied harp with?"</i><br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>"Siân James."</i></span></i></div><br />
<i>"SIAN JAMES! You've had lessons with Siân James? SHE'S FAMOUS!!"</i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>"er.... sorry?! What's that?"</i><br />
<br />
Famous? I really didn't understand and was completely surprised by her response. I love Siân James and her music... but she's certainly not famous, at least, not in North America. Does it matter? No, not really.<br />
<br />
Except for this... The once promoter of Welsh culture has turned into a Canadian name dropper.<br />
<br />
And there it is. Perceptions, eh?<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm telling that story so that I tell you this one... hopefully without the fear of being accused of name dropping...<br />
<br />
...because, even I think it's all a bit farfetched.<br />
<br />
<br />
I was invited by Ceri "Ffliwt" and Julie to The Party.<br />
<br />
<br />
The Party...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQk0TzYwjdz_sTUuev8f6c3uXsa9J_UiG-3eWDEiZ8_LBUIW1Dvx-l6M8s7d23NzCR5Qua_si3Xt-t1F-JHFOna2P_vEGYuoaQBMjO2ISqb2MV1PDquLCfEPYkioynlfjTLFw3Vik-k3k/s1600/CIMG3465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQk0TzYwjdz_sTUuev8f6c3uXsa9J_UiG-3eWDEiZ8_LBUIW1Dvx-l6M8s7d23NzCR5Qua_si3Xt-t1F-JHFOna2P_vEGYuoaQBMjO2ISqb2MV1PDquLCfEPYkioynlfjTLFw3Vik-k3k/s200/CIMG3465.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welsh Manor House</td></tr>
</tbody></table>...was in this great old, rather large, and wonderful mansion house that could have easily been from the set of some old movie - the Welsh Manor, the seat and holder of Welsh culture and tradition.<br />
<br />
The occasion for The Party... the completion of a new shed.<br />
<br />
The people... well, a lot of Welsh academia... scholars particularly instrumental in the study and proliferation of Welsh folk music and culture...<br />
<br />
The host of The Party - Bethan Miles.<br />
<br />
Bethan is a viola player, university lecturer, scholar and general collector of ancient and curious oddities. I had seen her name in a couple of scholarly papers about the Robert ap Huw manuscript before but it took me ages to put two and two together. Bethan is a character and then some. But more on that later.<br />
<br />
I arrived at the party and was immediately introduced to none other than Daniel Hughes, followed by Meredydd Evans, Phyllis Kinney and Tegwyn Jones. Okay, you may not recognize the names but essentially every Welsh folk music book I own, has been compiled and edited by these people. Articles, books, papers, recordings... I'd seen and heard about them all for years and years...<br />
<br />
Daniel Huws was once Keeper of Manuscripts at the National Library of Wales, he is an exceptional poet, has published several books, an inheritor of the Welsh plygain singing tradition, editor of several Welsh folk song collections and also one of the contributors to the Smithsonian Folkways album <i>Blodeugerdd</i>.<br />
<br />
Meredydd "Merêd" Evans has edited several collections of Welsh folk music, professor of philosophy, historian, once member of the group Wythawd Tryfan, producer and known most notably for recording the classic album for Folkways, <i>Merêd,</i> that has kept alive so many of the Welsh folk songs now in currency.<br />
<br />
Phyllis Kinney, an American fluent in Welsh and once opera singer, has also edited several key collections of Welsh folk music and has recently published a new comprehensive book about Welsh folk music. (Elsa's been going through it and finding all sorts of gems!)<br />
<br />
Tegwyn Jones has written several books, most famously those documenting Welsh poetry, ballads and verse. Julie was particularly thrilled to meet Tegwyn as his book Tribannau Morgannwg as had a big influence on Fernhill.<br />
<br />
Meeting them all was an honour...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyfcjwkHH8UUnxKABmQZRClZm1gjWVdQoRlQCSfJ1JnJ6i-Tm7nOleAiKhzRHH6bVtwLpIIfMSvncHSFE-37vtigC8daD7G43nFZTE-iRaSH8QKWf6DUZA3nfJDo-gR_xKzfdyvRpIe94/s1600/CIMG3444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyfcjwkHH8UUnxKABmQZRClZm1gjWVdQoRlQCSfJ1JnJ6i-Tm7nOleAiKhzRHH6bVtwLpIIfMSvncHSFE-37vtigC8daD7G43nFZTE-iRaSH8QKWf6DUZA3nfJDo-gR_xKzfdyvRpIe94/s200/CIMG3444.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Julie, Ceri, 'wyres', Daniel, Phyllis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Then, of course, there was Ceri "Ffliwt", producer of several key Welsh folk albums, a primary figure in the revival of the Welsh bagpipes and pibgorn, founding member of Fernhill, flute player and singer, collector and teacher of music, and the heart of Yscolan.<br />
<br />
And Julie, singer, pianist and song writer, has recorded several albums in both Welsh and English, has recorded with the likes of John Cale and Robert Plant and is also a founding member of Fernhill. The Welsh album that's had the most influence on me is her recording with Dylan Fowler, <i>Ffawd</i>.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObOYReyAW3IrF3H3rHPL0FQJuYULfA2aogl40I_E1WkDI0m-kv-RWoYimjwCsyfEWyoEBhZU-xKQKYLKgyy67aXwpVROCFi9Wif9TqTaQvIcJ6iDu6z5G3EWY0vBNNUfeM0ykPzTZEIY/s1600/CIMG3438+crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObOYReyAW3IrF3H3rHPL0FQJuYULfA2aogl40I_E1WkDI0m-kv-RWoYimjwCsyfEWyoEBhZU-xKQKYLKgyy67aXwpVROCFi9Wif9TqTaQvIcJ6iDu6z5G3EWY0vBNNUfeM0ykPzTZEIY/s200/CIMG3438+crop.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Merêd, Bethan, Diarmuid, Christine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>And then, there was Diarmuid, the poet, author, translator, linguist and Irish flute player, along with his wife Mandy, traveler and entrepreneur... people I hadn't seen in well over three years or so. Lowri Telynores was there (I hope I've remembered her name right), playing in the North Welsh style. And amongst the mighty crew was Christine, fiddle player and adventurer, who moved along un-phased by the company.<br />
<br />
And then there was Elsa and myself... I can't speak for Elsa, but I was certainly wondering how on earth I was ever invited to such a thing...<br />
<br />
The Party began with a stately ceremony, a march to music in a grand procession to the new shed, willow branches, flowers and dancing led by the Master of Ceremonies, Bethan, and then the ribbon cutting and official opening by Merêd and Phyllis (all a bit tongue and cheek of course)...<br />
<br />
And then, we had a full afternoon of music. Daniel Huws and Merêd exchanged songs in traditional metres, then verses upon verses of poetry and music. Daniel had a mischievous twinkle in his eye, particularly strong before he would launch into some great Welsh ode. His granddaughter was there, who spoke lovely Welsh, encouraging Daniel to continue. Julie and Ceri "Ffliwt" were singing and playing. Ceri sang some triban songs, Julie some ballads and Christine played her fiddle. And we played the afternoon away. I sang my Canadian song for Merêd. He patted me on the cheek for my effort. Merêd loved Julie's voice, naturally. He expressed some concern for the state of Welsh folk music and hoped that some of the lesser known tunes would find their hearing. The music carried on all the way until supper...<br />
<br />
It was epic and is the stuff of legend. Elsa and I exchanged glances at one point, <i>"This can't be for real, can it!?!"</i><br />
<br />
I recorded some of it. Perhaps, it'll end up in some library somewhere someday, I'm sure, collecting dust.<br />
<br />
<br />
Later that evening, after supper, we had another long session. Diarmuid, Ceri "Ffliwt", Christine, Elsa, Bethan, Daniel, Julie... Bethan taught Ceri "Ffliwt" a great Welsh tune. Bethan's method of playing is reminiscent of the erhu (Chinese violin), but her tone is deeper and richer. We played well into the night.<br />
<br />
The next day, Bethan taught me some dirty Welsh poems to recite to my Welsh language class. I won't repeat them here because they are a bit rude but are sooo funny! I never tire of reciting them as it gives me a great laugh when I do.<br />
<br />
And then The Party came to an end.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTZhxw-hHVc8RDntTNXtTZ_HOoXxRKmbSilowsX3l7CSATLNMmlMmQEJ0j8Iy4LlxD1mtxbwb-_JEKYOZHGwFSHJUEk_6iQLMMpf8xyaXmME1-8I8xNbW1-Ixz-BKfrCbZsmCoOnKH40/s1600/CIMG3488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTZhxw-hHVc8RDntTNXtTZ_HOoXxRKmbSilowsX3l7CSATLNMmlMmQEJ0j8Iy4LlxD1mtxbwb-_JEKYOZHGwFSHJUEk_6iQLMMpf8xyaXmME1-8I8xNbW1-Ixz-BKfrCbZsmCoOnKH40/s200/CIMG3488.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I completed my week with a Hindu christening...<br />
<br />
Well, not really a christening... I think more of a naming ceremony except that's not quite it either. It was a celebration of the first time for the baby to eat solid food. The ceremony was in Welsh, Hindi and English. They used smoke and incense for purification. It really was beautiful.<br />
<br />
I basically played background music while people were gathering.<br />
<br />
There was one old fellow, I think from Bangladesh, who came up after one of the tunes and told me how much he enjoyed the music and he thanked me for it. I did the usual musician thing, hummed and hawed, nodded and said thank you. (It's tough to take compliments as a musician, I'm not sure just why yet.) Then he stopped me and said, "No. I really mean it! Thank you so much for your music!!" I bowed in respect. As he walked away he said, "All the best." I replied, "You take care now." To which he said with a smile, "I'm well past the point of taking care."<br />
<br />
<br />
And that was my surreal week.<br />
<br />
<br />
Next, The Reunion...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyPLKrwf9HO0agbUOWKuaRoIFr28CYQZGKJSB3jd95aHpvajaLCxM0ArRDsIgIS37Own3JY_dUtGXQTYB8jQrVoZV3-hklxJsUUcvcze-Ff4XNY7CVaLbqvyhzC9KoeoNLtlDAfMjLV9M/s1600/CIMG3484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyPLKrwf9HO0agbUOWKuaRoIFr28CYQZGKJSB3jd95aHpvajaLCxM0ArRDsIgIS37Own3JY_dUtGXQTYB8jQrVoZV3-hklxJsUUcvcze-Ff4XNY7CVaLbqvyhzC9KoeoNLtlDAfMjLV9M/s320/CIMG3484.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the Conrah</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-45249432775627479452011-08-07T17:07:00.000-07:002011-08-08T16:42:18.414-07:00One Year, Week 8 - Abergwaun, Manorbier, Fernhill in Rhosygilwen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTv9F1Z-GIKGWZ_aC7aNNS2Qu3V5irP6rpT0ZH7DTmfYm3EMT52vGhMe9Nu5-AJFXAJeVkTeo03gMvi4_gR5PJ_WEFS0mO05mA6jGBs5mIKDGNekZ2mposhBTuIRPZd3-trNiq3D8kVRU/s1600/CIMG3393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTv9F1Z-GIKGWZ_aC7aNNS2Qu3V5irP6rpT0ZH7DTmfYm3EMT52vGhMe9Nu5-AJFXAJeVkTeo03gMvi4_gR5PJ_WEFS0mO05mA6jGBs5mIKDGNekZ2mposhBTuIRPZd3-trNiq3D8kVRU/s200/CIMG3393.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I'm well behind on the blog now... by at least eight weeks! The next few entries will be rough...<br />
<br />
Let's see...<br />
<br />
Easter... I don't remember much except that I had a great chat with Catrin. She's a real character, great laugh and great storyteller!<br />
<br />
At some point, I made my way to Pencader and had a quick play with Julie, Christine and Ceri "Ffliwt".<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia1lyV7dBUwEMCaSR5ZBzel7jV-FLmtGDO3aXyNQddLKoAyxD-EMFaUNhe1rlbpgfEKycOwa0iAzYIMkT7z7oaEOfFSsWyP6hpticdS9AZBiLh0KPaZzSRHunp-pF2YEwVU8QOjessj7E/s1600/CIMG3369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia1lyV7dBUwEMCaSR5ZBzel7jV-FLmtGDO3aXyNQddLKoAyxD-EMFaUNhe1rlbpgfEKycOwa0iAzYIMkT7z7oaEOfFSsWyP6hpticdS9AZBiLh0KPaZzSRHunp-pF2YEwVU8QOjessj7E/s200/CIMG3369.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jens, sound genius</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Ceri "Ffliwt", Christine and myself made our way to Abergwaun the following day. We were recording some music for this indie film at Jens' studio. Sean Vicary (a serious director and maker of indie films) is the fellow we were recording for. I saw one of his films that featured the Mari Lwyd - proper dark imagery, completely suitable for the ancient rite of Mari Lwyd. A wonderful film. I think he grew up around Shrewsbury and this particular film is to feature some ancient Welsh poetry that was written in that area. At one time there were quite a few Welsh speakers in Shrewsbury...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYaPyrgzDG3YlumLx2Ux7jwEigxkPVqEs4PQLJG0cls-f5NXmPE8zgqnrPKgIDKuMlufZiJmT5hP_8gwfZwn8GrgHt5LEnvxbYIEgQdIUUDvC-M2UBZt68HvhZiAFdyRI409DneyhjjUQ/s1600/CIMG3372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYaPyrgzDG3YlumLx2Ux7jwEigxkPVqEs4PQLJG0cls-f5NXmPE8zgqnrPKgIDKuMlufZiJmT5hP_8gwfZwn8GrgHt5LEnvxbYIEgQdIUUDvC-M2UBZt68HvhZiAFdyRI409DneyhjjUQ/s200/CIMG3372.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">listening to freedom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anyway, the three of us played a version of Meillionen and we played 6 or 7 pieces of free improv. It was a refreshing challenge and I thought it sounded really cool. Of course, some moments were better than others but I would love to play more improv with those two. I played both harp and trombone. I'm quite out of shape on the trombone, well past my peak days, but managed okay. I'm really looking forward to the film's release which I think will be in November sometime. I'm curious to see how it all turns out...<br />
<br />
<br />
That evening, we traveled down to Manorbier and I stayed with Christine at her parents place. Her folks were very welcoming offering wonderful food and conversation. The next day Christine took me to Manorbier - the birthplace of Geraldus Cambrensis. (see <a href="http://cerigwalior.blogspot.com/2010/03/day-10-short-digression-giraldus.html">'Day 10'</a> for more about my soul brother, Geraldus) In his book, Geraldus gives a full description of the castle, the castle of his birth, which doesn't seem to have changed overly since his time. Well... except for a few missing walls and ceilings...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho9Vsh7D-Xvq3Sxj-4k-MeLETSDOOWNWyr5EXduxfyqCOB_qj2MKW0fFStGmhdvKP8IlbSm1jNtSRzYZbzAHMd0panAezaQQY5oHGYtu9wxOrbCWQzbC7kAEFmuvKBMlhpy154w0pou_E/s1600/CIMG3400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho9Vsh7D-Xvq3Sxj-4k-MeLETSDOOWNWyr5EXduxfyqCOB_qj2MKW0fFStGmhdvKP8IlbSm1jNtSRzYZbzAHMd0panAezaQQY5oHGYtu9wxOrbCWQzbC7kAEFmuvKBMlhpy154w0pou_E/s200/CIMG3400.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Manorbier</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Afterwards, we went for a long walk around the cliffs and went for a brief picnic in secret bay. It was a beautiful day spent together. Christine's a lovely character who's done all sorts of crazy things - lived in China, stayed in a yurt with yak herders near Tibet, lived in an anarchist commune - that sort of thing. Pretty wild experiences!<br />
<br />
<br />
Later that night, I went to the Fernhill gig at Rhosygilwen. Jason, Vicky, Martin and Sille were all there, camping for the weekend. Of course, it was good to see them all again.<br />
<br />
Rhosygilwen is an amazing house and the owner was very interesting, a real patron of the arts.<br />
<br />
<br />
About Fernhill...<br />
<br />
<br />
Fernhill were out of this world. Something remarkable... a Happening...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKf7CAUA0eFzXBu4Wy1Ju-DjARFTs63T4IWgphMTSxcRZRbWamdJ4wPWKQBYuP4KrtT13KgPQRLn5MgdOyfBOwb4OSAVnFkZAc87F2ciX8ChwaPqHDQhJNHElco-HgLpk8cSAGu3ul1hc/s1600/CIMG3412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKf7CAUA0eFzXBu4Wy1Ju-DjARFTs63T4IWgphMTSxcRZRbWamdJ4wPWKQBYuP4KrtT13KgPQRLn5MgdOyfBOwb4OSAVnFkZAc87F2ciX8ChwaPqHDQhJNHElco-HgLpk8cSAGu3ul1hc/s200/CIMG3412.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fernhill in concert</td></tr>
</tbody></table>There were three moments where I was near tears. The first moment was near the top of the show... Julie sang this song in that voice of hers, the earth reverberating in the great silence before dark... words fail utterly... how can one describe the ineffable?<br />
<br />
The second was when Ceri "Ffliwt" and Julie sang together, mainly in octaves. It had something to do with the fragility in Ceri "Ffliwt"'s voice, coupled with Julie's natural yet gentle power, together rendered into a thing beyond beauty and again words cannot begin to capture the moment... <br />
<br />
And the third was Christine's story - a story about life, love and death... a memory... a memory within the memory of our day together. She transformed our day into magic, her words painting the butter dandelions, the ochre cliffs and I see the farm and the secret picnic with its tastes of apples and oat crackers. I was spellbound - caught in the images spinning before me, images of the day we shared, music interwoven with words, brought into light and love ...and I was touched. The experience unforgettable. <br />
<br />
The four of them together, Tomos (tpt), Christine (ffidl), Julie (voice) and Ceri "Ffliwt" (guitar and flute) - together, they create a thing beyond themselves... something otherworldly. They touch on the ineffable and the numinous. They reach the place, the void, the silence where Music alone comes into existence. A thing of wonder and beauty and art...<br />
<br />
And this, I tell you as a Humanist...<br />
<br />
And with that, I leave you...<br />
<br />
<br />
Next, something somewhat surreal... The Party...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhICoSEbzRzZ1U-ny4yo0YJ5H50X6EsE2zaXhKIc1piDsabxRRVn3VbPalIgSTxDf3gWLl22JdjkjyNJuTi3sjK9hJyySxGwq1AkpZxBLJvd3iDGpdLQeDQptYWADWNHXm114vyiR9xQQw/s1600/CIMG3406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhICoSEbzRzZ1U-ny4yo0YJ5H50X6EsE2zaXhKIc1piDsabxRRVn3VbPalIgSTxDf3gWLl22JdjkjyNJuTi3sjK9hJyySxGwq1AkpZxBLJvd3iDGpdLQeDQptYWADWNHXm114vyiR9xQQw/s320/CIMG3406.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rhosygilwen</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<div>ps. If you haven't heard Fernhill yet, I'd recommend any of their albums. You can get the latest one here at <a href="http://fernhill.bandcamp.com/album/canu-rhydd">http://fernhill.bandcamp.com/album/canu-rhydd</a></div>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-48284108318519168852011-07-28T15:21:00.000-07:002011-07-28T15:21:32.907-07:00One Year, Week 7 - Aberaeron and Dolgellau<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP3IMrthiYFABgjLaY8tiG8ZHHkEbsqK5o6bahyphenhyphenc6pkI2ZHknlt7UoLERJDrWmzo1GmqSFMq9C09R9To3vtp60yPGSrs58BAMhrSi2BrfihQHunv9P4saSnVLJcdDjjM_wUWE6pQIP7ds/s1600/CIMG3284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP3IMrthiYFABgjLaY8tiG8ZHHkEbsqK5o6bahyphenhyphenc6pkI2ZHknlt7UoLERJDrWmzo1GmqSFMq9C09R9To3vtp60yPGSrs58BAMhrSi2BrfihQHunv9P4saSnVLJcdDjjM_wUWE6pQIP7ds/s200/CIMG3284.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>This week I was in Aberaeron trying to create some gigs. I suppose a strange place to try admittedly. I had help and loads of encouragement from Elsa though. Unfortunately, nothing really came of it. I'll probably try there again later.<br />
<br />
On the Wednesday, there was a scheduled Dolgellau session. I hadn't been in ages so decided to make the trip.<br />
<br />
Elsa was eager to make a day out of it. I think she wanted to experience absolutely everything that Gwil and I had experienced on our many excursions up north. She even wanted to catch the bus up there with me from Aber. So off we went, having a nice chat all the way up north.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Our first stop was Y Sospan, the little cafe that Gwil and I used to frequent for tea before teaching at the school. I didn't have my usual (which was the all-day vegetarian breakfast) but instead had scones with jam and clotted cream with a mug of tea. It was nice to be back at the old haunt, especially in Elsa's company.<br />
<br />
We made a stop at Ty Siamas... thought I'd try getting a gig (again, they're not having it) and the boy behind the counter (I think his name was Ioan, though I can't really remember) suggested that perhaps my Welsh wasn't good enough to play in their little theatre. He then began telling us how members of the IRA used to meet not that far from Dolgellau. He seemed a little too celebratory about that. Not something exactly good for business... or the Welsh language, come to think of it.<br />
<br />
So what exactly was that Welshie on about? Who knows... It's this sort that are destroying the language though. A common complaint of many of the Welsh learners I've met, is the fact that they're never really welcomed into the Welsh speaking communities. <br />
<br />
I've been more fortunate than most learners as this hasn't really been my experience (...with a handful of exceptions, namely a couple of individuals who've expressed a distaste for me, my journey and my taste in music, but this bothers me little if at all...) For the most part, I've found Welsh speakers quite welcoming. <br />
<br />
So why have so few learners been adopted into the culture? Your guess is as good as mine...<br />
<br />
The thing is, if the Welsh are actually interested in the survival of the Welsh language, they're going to have to learn to reach out to non-Welshies. They'd be wise to start thinking about Welsh and its place in the global community rather than thinking only of Welsh in the very tiny village of Dolgellau. The more walls they build trying to keep the rest of us separate from Welsh culture, the more they will kill the language...<br />
<br />
<br />
Anyway, we then stopped by the Royal hotel on a whim. It just so happened they were looking for a band... a jazz band unfortunately. I could have put one together but I haven't found any jazzers in Cardiganshire. They all seem to live down in Cardiff. Perhaps I just haven't looked hard enough. At any rate, I did give them a CD with some Cerddcegin but never did hear from them either.<br />
<br />
After that, we decided to try to walk to the session which was at the Cross Foxes... only a couple of miles... all up hill ...with a harp on my back... sure, why not!<br />
<br />
Along the way, we ran into some nutter who pulled a full bottle of whisky out of his sleeve and tried to sell it to us. Quite intense. Needless to say, we turned down his offer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL0bQ4-gvX2C2AOXkr2yST0sISwsfWfmBCQaqOF9olZDIRZGEsKiC0XfW1ndJuwQpR_TkHG1CHvWv_UipHLCDTJLDsiFZB2mrAFk8lQHj0wTEdZ0e2KMgNH40gCmGZl-ewlN-lsdA5cIM/s1600/CIMG3293.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL0bQ4-gvX2C2AOXkr2yST0sISwsfWfmBCQaqOF9olZDIRZGEsKiC0XfW1ndJuwQpR_TkHG1CHvWv_UipHLCDTJLDsiFZB2mrAFk8lQHj0wTEdZ0e2KMgNH40gCmGZl-ewlN-lsdA5cIM/s200/CIMG3293.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Anyway, as we continued up the hill, I'd already had enough of lugging the harp around so I stuck out my thumb first chance I got. This super nice fellow with a pickup truck stopped for us thankfully. Elsa hopped up front into the cab and I hauled my harp into the truck bed and rode in the back with it. Just like a good ol' boy! Brilliant! My harp still carries the memories of that trip.<br />
<br />
Because we had caught a lift, we were there quite early. The manager let us in downstairs to a conference room to practice. As we played, the owners heard us, came down and asked if we'd play at their pub sometime. They asked if we'd come up and play on the balcony for starters but also wondered how much we'd charge for an evening. I told them that there was usually three of us and gave them the minimum price. The woman looked at me as if I just made the rudest joke possible. It made me laugh a little! From the look on her face, I'd be amazed if they ever called us.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAi-vmB_27QakjeO3kjhNl0O1rXwB0cDLYtxz2d-SF_AsXaM0OeaMnhB-qAzUJXD6eDj1IIc1ENppSFGtYfyLMJJV9XDbSu2kmVyz9W0iqg2iEHGsUzdM7T9F2_cRupjuCV-QcEkcT8A8/s1600/CIMG3307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAi-vmB_27QakjeO3kjhNl0O1rXwB0cDLYtxz2d-SF_AsXaM0OeaMnhB-qAzUJXD6eDj1IIc1ENppSFGtYfyLMJJV9XDbSu2kmVyz9W0iqg2iEHGsUzdM7T9F2_cRupjuCV-QcEkcT8A8/s200/CIMG3307.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>Anyway, Elsa and I played for the diners outside on the balcony. She must have been very nervous because she suddenly went very quiet in her playing. It was unusual because she's been especially confident lately. It can be quite hard though when the nerves take over. Either way, good practice for the both of us.<br />
<br />
We were eventually joined by some others looking for a session. A jazz folk guitar and his accordion player. The session got moved about the restaurant a couple of times as we started. I don't think the owners knew what to do with us all. It was good to see Gary Northeast, Jem and Phil once again. I was pleasantly surprised to see Huw Dylan there. He was up visiting his parents. <br />
<br />
I thought he might sing some tunes but he wanted to just take it all in. Shame, cause I really like his tunes. He sings this one tune that quotes the anthem which I enjoy in particular. I've only heard him sing it once but I won't forget it. Very poignant. Anyway, we had a great chat in Welsh near the end of the session, touching on the importance of the Welsh language and the varying styles of Welsh folk music. It was nice to see him once again.<br />
<br />
As everyone was packing up, Keith and Elsa played on until the bar manager turned off most of the lights. Then we drove back to Aber, harp resting on my lap.<br />
<br />
<br />
It was a wonderful day with Elsa. I've been hanging with her quite a bit. The conversation is always easy as she leaps from one exciting topic to another. And she listens to my nonsense quite patiently and then stops me with a thoughtful word. She'll catch me out and gently direct me in a different direction. Digon teg! And through all that, she never ceases to surprise me, hidden dragon that she is.<br />
<br />
<br />
We also rehearsed Cerddcegin again this week, this time with only me, Elsa and Nettie. It was a good one but more on that later.<br />
<br />
Next, Abergwaun, Manorbier and Fernhill...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIiI2ri4C_tfbol0FK4O9eSS73o06iblCAbzcw0bVQpRTX5P45eDXMNt3LE1GGo7XHqc7xYvWLQTyhPFTIxCTItdKzz1a43ZijLf8xZBT03h0JLirNoUWsvYcGint8EdQLQjQECepqM4Q/s1600/CIMG3323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIiI2ri4C_tfbol0FK4O9eSS73o06iblCAbzcw0bVQpRTX5P45eDXMNt3LE1GGo7XHqc7xYvWLQTyhPFTIxCTItdKzz1a43ZijLf8xZBT03h0JLirNoUWsvYcGint8EdQLQjQECepqM4Q/s320/CIMG3323.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-81529265110976723042011-07-02T07:48:00.000-07:002011-07-02T07:48:50.292-07:00One Year, Week 6 - Narberth, Llandeilo, Llandre and Cei Newydd<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKj4DLiJ3yNCQ42vuZrLouo4XBU1KY0iJkkvRLCOhElHcIakcKSmcJ_ejIgreMyAdxn8PTmKyVQRJZn7gIW6GGniw0vKgNEBxYeRONslKC6QwHrLSV31BlYCRDW98NNGKFV_BcTE7Lc2A/s1600/CIMG3353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKj4DLiJ3yNCQ42vuZrLouo4XBU1KY0iJkkvRLCOhElHcIakcKSmcJ_ejIgreMyAdxn8PTmKyVQRJZn7gIW6GGniw0vKgNEBxYeRONslKC6QwHrLSV31BlYCRDW98NNGKFV_BcTE7Lc2A/s200/CIMG3353.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I got up early that Tuesday to catch the bus in to Abertawe and then a train over to Narberth. Pwyll had died just a few days before rather unexpectedly. Though as Enfys put, he'd been sitting on the porch watching the ocean when he passed. No better way to go I suppose. I had hoped to make the journey down to Llangranog that very week. A sad loss. Pwyll's service was beautiful though. I think half of West Wales was there. Jon Meirion had written two englyn for the service and there were a couple of beautiful Welsh hymns.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<b>Cofio Pwyll</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
Un dyfal o hil Dafydd - ac afiaith<br />
y gof a'r peiriannydd;<br />
eu harddel fu'r ddawn gelfydd,<br />
ato'r cain a'r crefftwr cudd.<br />
<br />
O'i fro hen dros fôr anwel - o'i elfen<br />
i Breswylfa'r gorwel;<br />
daeth yr alwad i'n gadel<br />
a'i hoff rai, - rhown ein ffarwél.<br />
<br />
<i>Jon Meirion</i><br />
<br />
<br />
After the funeral felt very much like a celebration. People gathering together, the whole village, sharing stories. It was really beautiful. Many people commented on how much I looked like my dad. They all spoke to me in Welsh, "O, mab Andrew Gwalior, mab Andrew Gwalior!" (Andrew Gwalior's son!) <br />
<br />
Pwyll and Enfys are some of the last originals in the village. It's a big loss really.<br />
<br />
I had managed to hitch to the crematorium with a builder and then after the funeral I caught a lift to the bus stop with the gardener. I then caught a bus to Caerfyrddin where Martin and Sille picked me up.<br />
<br />
The Bethlehem Village Band had a gig in Llandeilo that evening. There were the four of us, Martin, Sille, Jason and myself. It was great to play with them. And we got another gig from it as well. We were basically playing background music but I seem to remember we played quite awhile. As always with them, time absolutely disappears until we surprisingly find ourselves at the the end of the evening, a happy light shining from our eyes. Good tunes, good people, great musicians... a fantastic night.<br />
<br />
I think I caught the bus all the way back to Aber the next day.<br />
<br />
That Thursday I met with Nettie, Elsa and Gwilym in this little church in Llandre called 'Bethlehem'. One of many rehearsals we were to hold as we were due to play at the Abercych Twmpath. It took a bit of time to find tunes that we all had in common. I hadn't played too much with Nettie before but she's a wonderful musician. Her squeezebox is ethereal and whimsical, which I think blends wonderfully with Elsa and Gwil. Together we make manifest the music of the tylwyth teg... pixy music. Doesn't get better.<br />
<br />
But then it did...<br />
<br />
The perfect day in Cei Newydd...<br />
<br />
That Saturday, I caught the bus with Gwil down to Cei Newydd. Just like old times, chatting away in the front row. And then, the three of us met in Elsa's perfect little home, full of interesting books, jumpers and wool socks, arrow flints and painted stones, all bits and pieces laced with history and stories. For lunch, I made falafel wraps which even Gwil ate so they must have tasted pretty good. Elsa had cheeses, bread, jam, tea, the works really. There were stories and laughter, all lightness and air. We played through a bunch of tunes... it had been a while and I hadn't truthfully prepared but we got through some of the old standards... and I was lucky to get a few on record. I was in a Monet, colours swirled and pastel hues danced past, delicate brush work interweaving layer upon layer to eventually reveal a soft lily floating in a slow moving stream... <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbIxlyjCmtuDTmUsCBiTK1L2TIYtAlRyO_2iEjUghdWoM3RYByLz_UUxvpYTZMOG0zxsua7eiVS59-yCLxdIeC5L9YdWE9r3SCFNfN2ncSRV0YBdE6aKwQP6oJxiTAWB6jimAAD3n04U/s1600/CIMG3242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbIxlyjCmtuDTmUsCBiTK1L2TIYtAlRyO_2iEjUghdWoM3RYByLz_UUxvpYTZMOG0zxsua7eiVS59-yCLxdIeC5L9YdWE9r3SCFNfN2ncSRV0YBdE6aKwQP6oJxiTAWB6jimAAD3n04U/s200/CIMG3242.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>After playing we took a long walk across the Cei Newydd beach. Elsa was collecting stones and she picked up a mangled brick that would later become a candle holder. A watery fog sat along the beach, making magic the moment. I was trying to steal pictures of the two of them but they know me too well. Though Gwil's picked up some of my tricks and snuck a couple of shots that I later found online. <br />
<br />
I don't remember how I got home. I really don't. Drunk on music, stories and ocean air.<br />
<br />
<br />
That was my perfect day.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4-hZZkZYMNbhe-1hZwBSFr6RH8Qo_miyc-jheAk5Abd67MK_c-OhltjU2BqGRBRgeHtZAeBAH3dy2OHUOeNg8eIB6qax_PkgZFYXyuCMNTM0Bu43XkEoFcosQYyriX3PJQfbmWPWsD0/s1600/CIMG3252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4-hZZkZYMNbhe-1hZwBSFr6RH8Qo_miyc-jheAk5Abd67MK_c-OhltjU2BqGRBRgeHtZAeBAH3dy2OHUOeNg8eIB6qax_PkgZFYXyuCMNTM0Bu43XkEoFcosQYyriX3PJQfbmWPWsD0/s320/CIMG3252.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-40591017201407260972011-06-04T16:46:00.000-07:002011-06-07T12:41:36.513-07:00One Year, Week 5 - Ystalyfera, Abertawe and Gower<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRCEpdoWFkVDG0-eO_zknQSpsfh44t4AKaHQ4Ilk_tQNkh7mrXclVHgwn9tmplS5Mu_94C4vU70RJvZioQmgv4SPAVe82PQ1TEj3cfZrpAFvWRcAyVqsQZYhVnlg8eTgaD_E-EEWeGK-Y/s1600/CIMG3139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRCEpdoWFkVDG0-eO_zknQSpsfh44t4AKaHQ4Ilk_tQNkh7mrXclVHgwn9tmplS5Mu_94C4vU70RJvZioQmgv4SPAVe82PQ1TEj3cfZrpAFvWRcAyVqsQZYhVnlg8eTgaD_E-EEWeGK-Y/s200/CIMG3139.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I made my way back down to Ystalyfera. I think my favourite bus driver was driving. The one who always asks me what sort of weaponry I'm hiding behind my harp case and that sort of thing. I found out he had done sound for the Rolling Stones at one point in his life. How cool is that? Very interesting fellow. <br />
<br />
Anyway, that weekend there were more gigs with Martin and Sille thankfully... I've said this previously, but without their help I would have been at a dead loss. <br />
<a name='more'></a>They've hired me for so many gigs, even though they truly haven't needed to. A deep kindness. We did some playing that evening and some more the next day. Much less on the drinks this weekend though which was just as well. <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZZKpErqb-PWNs3DbyNZ2SM_SuMfRzXhapzmqAE61YhYubQHzeYYBYwzyT343da6eL78ZUtsk809iDGrmhHkdy6tLspuYuaoP4M7RvKc3Vwq9Ea_FlJun5nSPn7UqT3KXfR2f_DH23ZM/s1600/CIMG3100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZZKpErqb-PWNs3DbyNZ2SM_SuMfRzXhapzmqAE61YhYubQHzeYYBYwzyT343da6eL78ZUtsk809iDGrmhHkdy6tLspuYuaoP4M7RvKc3Vwq9Ea_FlJun5nSPn7UqT3KXfR2f_DH23ZM/s200/CIMG3100.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peter Pan!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Sille had made some paper hats which were very stylish as you can see. As funny as it was, it probably helped me to not get completely sunburned. We had a lovely play in the backyard and some good laughs.<br />
<br />
<br />
On the Friday evening the three of us went into Abertawe and visited the session at Ty Tawe. It was good to see the Swansea crew once again and this time on their home turf. <br />
<br />
As before, it was a tremendous amount of energy that filled the little cafe. I was glad we were able to share some tunes together. The usual suspects were all there - Geraint, Huw, Pam, Chris, Tracey, Caradog and a few I hadn't met before. I decided to sing a couple of new tunes that I'd been working on. Martin and Sille played some wonderful tunes and both Chris and Huw sang some songs. A couple of them were quite funny. I've said this before, but it's worth repeating, Chris has a great big powerful voice which is a pleasure to listen to. <br />
<br />
The folk sessions I've been to have been generally very fun. It's a good way to learn and hear new tunes, meet new and interesting people, and a nice way to enjoy a pint. Each session seems to have its own flavour. And the Swansea session sounds like Swansea to me. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEST9C5GcDzbVptDEeFwffExMF9zaNoWm08nAIzC5mpKfE7o3uKgp9Ph-0S6voYRWGo-gVW1RuYGLb87hc8nfpZ7R0vnPw3jotf1GqQxhZ4cuAioo9h-Yyo4vuc8AL1wll-tudd3kaa44/s1600/CIMG3112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEST9C5GcDzbVptDEeFwffExMF9zaNoWm08nAIzC5mpKfE7o3uKgp9Ph-0S6voYRWGo-gVW1RuYGLb87hc8nfpZ7R0vnPw3jotf1GqQxhZ4cuAioo9h-Yyo4vuc8AL1wll-tudd3kaa44/s200/CIMG3112.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><br />
The following morning, I played at a christening at a wonderfully quaint little church close to Mumbles. The family were very welcoming and the Rev seemed very kind. It felt good to play there. The sound was amazing in that little church and the location of the place itself was very peaceful, tucked away into a little wooded area. There was a fellow there from Bristol who told me to give him a call as he'd help me find some gigs out that way. The family also invited me to their house party but I had another gig with Martin and Sille that evening so politely declined.<br />
<br />
It was a beautiful day. It felt like mid-summer and with all that music, I was feeling rather happy...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirgpdQjp06B-oRejYBytYPItEPIavK1l2Prq89bV6uQe4yJeti8fh0w05W-jlOSyJJDZXd_MbbkbCowxWblRo-tkXwFSTIrZbQELtK89ygUiCj_gFvlSjQQsRbp1EMbxRJvIJ9IqNkens/s1600/CIMG3124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirgpdQjp06B-oRejYBytYPItEPIavK1l2Prq89bV6uQe4yJeti8fh0w05W-jlOSyJJDZXd_MbbkbCowxWblRo-tkXwFSTIrZbQELtK89ygUiCj_gFvlSjQQsRbp1EMbxRJvIJ9IqNkens/s200/CIMG3124.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sild at the King Arthur</td></tr>
</tbody></table>That evening we were at the King Arthur to celebrate the pub's anniversary. The three of us played in the big medieval looking dining hall. There were jugglers, magicians, fire eaters and us the musicians. The staff were all in medieval themed costumes. Martin and I were matchy-matchy, folk troubadours. Playing with Martin and Sille comes so easily and naturally. We seem to be able to play for hours without tiring and without break, a testament to their talent and creativity.<br />
<br />
Martin and Sille are very delicate musicians who are just as equally passionate. Some of their tunes are quite fast and I must admit, I'm not always able to keep astride. I think this must frustrate them to no end. Though I am getting better, I know that I have a very long way to go.<br />
<br />
At any rate, I played quite a bit of harp the next day while Martin and Sille were taking a breather. Sille was trying to convince me not learn so many tunes or rather to be more selective with the tunes that I learn. I think she said, "You can't learn every tune!" I'm not sure why I'm like this, but when it's put to me that way, I take that as a challenge and now fully intend to learn as many tunes as Diarmuid. I know, I know. It's a strange reaction and one of my many bizarre ticks.<br />
<br />
<br />
Afterwards, we did a big walk about the Gower, and every few minutes we'd run into someone Martin had grown up with, meeting people quite randomly. I think Martin really misses this part of the world. It's easy to tell he's most at home in the Gower. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlGopruh_dknOBgjI9FAoxpmGbisLttJ4jFEL7E2RkCSbxuk62_VNogmjPm7wNHrdBTnsZqI5v7HjCaJRj5k6s5qM2jLNmPXtufSQ15o7pvGtilxHlFmb93PXW8rI6NnUV9YoW07Vnjvg/s1600/CIMG3202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlGopruh_dknOBgjI9FAoxpmGbisLttJ4jFEL7E2RkCSbxuk62_VNogmjPm7wNHrdBTnsZqI5v7HjCaJRj5k6s5qM2jLNmPXtufSQ15o7pvGtilxHlFmb93PXW8rI6NnUV9YoW07Vnjvg/s200/CIMG3202.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barney loves his tractor...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We stopped by a pub during our walk and funny enough there was Barney. Barney O'Kane, whom I'd met about three years ago at a Welsh language intensive. Barney was great on the course. He was the one who helped us all to speak Welsh almost constantly throughout that summer just by being himself. It was great to see Barney again. He's a character and a half. A truly wicked sense of humour, full of life, with an easy laugh and so very positive and enthusiastic. <br />
<br />
I spoke Welsh only a little with Barney. His friend next to him asked where I was living. I said Aberystwyth. "Oh yes," he said, "You'd need Welsh in Aber but you don't need it down here in the Gower." Barney piped up right quick, "I LOVE speaking Welsh! I love how it sounds. I just love it." The perfect response and it reminded me of the real reason for the thing. The only true reason to learn to speak Welsh. Right on brother. I hope to see Barney again soon.<br />
<br />
We had a short play in Ystalyfera before I had to travel down to Narberth for Pwyll's funeral. I remember that I spoke Welsh to the woman in the flower shop before leaving.<br />
<br />
Next, a quick visit in Narberth, a gig in Llandeilo, a gathering in Llandre and some more time with Elsa and Gwilym...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinI-JgTXecZBUO9Jc_R59L45k5atiwqf7C7X5gcH6LKAIkI2nO3hOEWNo6hhBWKDH2pCqch4D6EK0ys_N1tovWtkoIF5vdo9kqdHJuTxCysPTzWUooFwvHeKj2xPI3QHWqBNRcHEIBRvs/s1600/CIMG3101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinI-JgTXecZBUO9Jc_R59L45k5atiwqf7C7X5gcH6LKAIkI2nO3hOEWNo6hhBWKDH2pCqch4D6EK0ys_N1tovWtkoIF5vdo9kqdHJuTxCysPTzWUooFwvHeKj2xPI3QHWqBNRcHEIBRvs/s320/CIMG3101.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my Tundra sister in her finest attire...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-49134010908894415322011-05-22T17:12:00.000-07:002011-05-22T17:12:50.587-07:00One Year, Week 4 - Llanbadarn and Capelywig<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBqJnDOxfMlt09WkbTJpK1jtjkb1YjWiCrGbsrwwrqGm8cO2fzodbihSxJEIm7mNmr-rmJU2EFgQviJdBAzayvK3rTr9Kb8WfPwhdaRcT4PStU_19d7Z2Ad2BVCX-kf21H0Q3cEyI35qc/s1600/CIMG3220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBqJnDOxfMlt09WkbTJpK1jtjkb1YjWiCrGbsrwwrqGm8cO2fzodbihSxJEIm7mNmr-rmJU2EFgQviJdBAzayvK3rTr9Kb8WfPwhdaRcT4PStU_19d7Z2Ad2BVCX-kf21H0Q3cEyI35qc/s200/CIMG3220.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>Not much happened in week four as I was still recovering... Later that week though, I had a great session with Elsa. We went over to Llanbadarn church to play. The church is a beautiful place with a very long history. The church was said have been founded by St. Padarn in the early sixth century. The root meaning of Padarn is Pater or father. It's more than likely the site was once a pagan enclosure and then subsumed by later christians. For one thing, the church houses two ancient stone crosses which are believed to be pre-christian but were subsequently re-used by the christian community. The church itself was rebuilt a few times over the years. I think the main structure was built in the 1200s. <br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Sulien, the bishop of St. David's between 1073 and 1085, is also associated with church. It's a fair guess that the piece in the apHuw manuscript "Caniad San Silin" is in reference to this Sulien. Although, it would seem more likely to be a dedication to the 6th century Saint Sulien, originally from Cornwall, who was said to have established a church in Corwen, northeast Wales. Which ever Sulien it was written for, the tune is assuredly the oldest in the manuscript. Probably the only one to predate the 1300s.<br />
<br />
Llanbadarn was also visited by the great poet Dafydd ap Gwilym in the 1300s. He wrote a poem about the church, in which he describes going there only so he could ogle the women. "Merched Llanbadarn" in which he complains that none of the women will sleep with him. He wrote about staring at one lovely woman in particular, every Sunday. How great is that?! Utterly brilliant!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsNv20sjVKEn_m8RcyEbb0L2eQchMNKdds7nPagXOrzAbe83f12OkRjIG4SQpq8cFoJRS3XneDT9MAMYZKdQggxigTjvp9pv9zJKCV0ZXTsutrgcIlMDKQzzaV3JabrQuktMUv5JNymw/s1600/CIMG3224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsNv20sjVKEn_m8RcyEbb0L2eQchMNKdds7nPagXOrzAbe83f12OkRjIG4SQpq8cFoJRS3XneDT9MAMYZKdQggxigTjvp9pv9zJKCV0ZXTsutrgcIlMDKQzzaV3JabrQuktMUv5JNymw/s200/CIMG3224.JPG" width="150" /></a>William Morgan (1545 - 1604), the man responsible for one of the first translations (possibly 3rd) of the bible into Welsh, was once vicar of this parish. He finished his version in 1588. Of course, this was only made possible because Queen Elizabeth I approved it in parliament. She wanted to ensure the Welsh stayed Anglican and so in 1567 she ordered a translation to be completed. This is worth remembering.<br />
<br />
Along the floor is marked an entranceway to the Gogerddan family vault. I don't know who they were but it sure looks cool. Wait... I just did some digging. They were a fairly powerful family at one point. They had settled the area as far back as the 1300s but Gogerddan, the estate itself, was built in the late 1400s. The last baronet died in 1962. After being in the family for over 600 years, the estate was then sold off. That's alright though. The Gogerddan Arms, a nice little pub, is still around just across from the church. There's an Irish session there but I've only been to it once.<br />
<br />
There's also a plaque in the church which commemorates the life of the antiquarian Lewis Morris (1701-1765) , the man who rediscovered the apHuw manuscript. I had visited his old farm last year as well. (I think Aunty Susan told me that some relative of ours from way back was friends with Lewis Morris but not entirely sure...) <br />
<br />
As you can see, this church is a fairly significant site. And what better way to celebrate that, than to play some beautiful music there with Elsa.<br />
<br />
Elsa taught me a couple of great tunes she found in Ifor Ceri's manuscript. The tunes were unbelievable, a testament to the massive and largely untapped wealth of Welsh folk music sitting in the National Library. Elsa and I have met several times, working on tunes or just having tea. The more I hang out with Elsa, the more I'm sure she's a genius. I'm quite certain now. She moves so swiftly between creative ideas, it's a real job to keep up. Being around Elsa is a beautiful and stirring experience.<br />
<br />
<br />
I sang in Cor Cyd at some point. It's a fun little choir. Everyone speaks Welsh though not very many learners seem to attend, mainly just fluent speakers. It's pretty tough to understand everyone. One fellow beside me talks throughout most everything during practice. Quite funny! He's a good fellow though.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCMEZyGZpOie11XFqQxYcw2_HhqdzQnqI9IUsgzDQoai9x4kvZmUEJkI9UBmJj6mff33bS1Swlq70S-__8MvgxsaR3zaoxbbaNVd7XTcq_jLmeRKXHx57oGfhpJ4rQNDDG5YBiBXT33Yg/s1600/CIMG3226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCMEZyGZpOie11XFqQxYcw2_HhqdzQnqI9IUsgzDQoai9x4kvZmUEJkI9UBmJj6mff33bS1Swlq70S-__8MvgxsaR3zaoxbbaNVd7XTcq_jLmeRKXHx57oGfhpJ4rQNDDG5YBiBXT33Yg/s200/CIMG3226.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I think it was during week five, I met Aunty Susan in Cei Newydd. We bused to Brynhoffnant and walked down to Capelywig. I was helping her to clean the graves once more in preparation for Sul y Blodau (Sunday of Flowers). I haven't been able to visit Aunty Susan in some time, so it was lovely to catch up.<br />
<br />
I hadn't been down to Capelywig for some months. I realized how much at home I feel in this part of Wales, south Cardiganshire. I really enjoy Aber but if I ever have the chance, this is the area I would settle.<br />
<br />
Right, onto the rest of my travels.<br />
Next, Ystalyfera, Abertawe, Ty Tawe, Mumbles and Gwyr...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-73972155632660957872011-05-14T15:38:00.000-07:002011-05-14T15:38:49.001-07:00One Year, Week 2 & 3 - the Cwps and being sick...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT5yT2lAnhNz-A1v2QSQvGdDvy2lMFhGDZh6dtV5-tKRXcVIpfE2A0VIMI5-WF6Os3nlYE7KHdk_i8Ib_c5DBUiPI_H4238VLTKwLxRwkMW6jGY2jgLa3prCUwCHE1LSsZXq1vMN42qWw/s1600/CIMG2976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT5yT2lAnhNz-A1v2QSQvGdDvy2lMFhGDZh6dtV5-tKRXcVIpfE2A0VIMI5-WF6Os3nlYE7KHdk_i8Ib_c5DBUiPI_H4238VLTKwLxRwkMW6jGY2jgLa3prCUwCHE1LSsZXq1vMN42qWw/s200/CIMG2976.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>It was a bit of a night at the Cwps. I think we were watching some rugby game but I can't remember who was playing. <br />
<br />
Many of the usual suspects were there... Ian, Hynek, Buddug, Eleri, Ifor, James, Huw, Sam... would have been a full house if Bjorn was around. Anyway...<br />
<br />
Before I forget, here's a mystery solved.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Well, maybe not conclusively, but a definite maybe.<br />
<br />
I was chatting with Hynek (from the Czech Republic), telling him about my mom's family and where we thought they were from. He knew instantly what I was talking about, all within a couple of seconds of me saying it. He even knew the Welsh word for their language. Here's the English. Rusyn or Ruthenian. A minority group mostly in west Ukraine but also found in Slovakia, Hungary and Romania. How cool is that?! I was later telling Martin about it and he thought the language was sometimes referred to as Galician because that area in the Ukraine is called Galicia. And as it happens, my mom's dad was from Galicia... at least, as far as I know. <br />
<br />
So, there it is... Ruthenian. Still couldn't say with certainty, but it would seem likely. Very, very interesting!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx3DoDOdBTE5ZalufMKaAnRPUf4iEahtkEosf7DzwfLhgO6p__HJUiIzOdSba4N-gEQMK-HYsIOqq9d674YGnkc7rd66ABz7No6J7l_vam45ZR1wTe0V2EZ8CzhwreSs5xiSMZ8Hv8qOI/s1600/CIMG2979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx3DoDOdBTE5ZalufMKaAnRPUf4iEahtkEosf7DzwfLhgO6p__HJUiIzOdSba4N-gEQMK-HYsIOqq9d674YGnkc7rd66ABz7No6J7l_vam45ZR1wTe0V2EZ8CzhwreSs5xiSMZ8Hv8qOI/s200/CIMG2979.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>It did turn pretty wild that evening. Mostly in the Cwps but eventually we made our way over to Rummer's to watch some Blues cover band. James, Huw and Sam left a bit early. Buddug and Eleri were a riot and Ifor was in top form, from what I remember. And Hynek started dancing in the Cwps, full on head banging. Brilliant!<br />
<br />
Dancing, drinks, laughs... all in Welsh as well... all in all, a seriously good time. <br />
<br />
<br />
I've been playing some football (soccer). I'm fairly out of shape but still it's loads of fun. It took me a couple of games to get my legs back. I really enjoy playing sports, though I'd forgotten. (One of my favourite games of all time is badminton, but I haven't played in years.) The first football game I went to, there was this fellow named Kosh, who drank beer and smoked through the whole match. That was pretty funny. Quite a few of the Celtic studies people are playing but more on that later.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAEriKZgjLHt4F7hMbQwWKPOIUxqgz-1flwe08LhHtxpYMlYbObvAxASk8l746MeN_2ISdCv5YRP8Rzgo4gJ5TtTd_WGQU36GNgiDnz8MapF3lHPwriAeOmkJvT6meS16pTNdL8_Fw7WE/s1600/CIMG3018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAEriKZgjLHt4F7hMbQwWKPOIUxqgz-1flwe08LhHtxpYMlYbObvAxASk8l746MeN_2ISdCv5YRP8Rzgo4gJ5TtTd_WGQU36GNgiDnz8MapF3lHPwriAeOmkJvT6meS16pTNdL8_Fw7WE/s200/CIMG3018.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>Elsa came over a couple of times. We had a little time for some tunes. She's so generous and gracious ...always bringing over some sort of gift... sometimes waffles (not belgium), homemade jams, bread and sometimes cheese. <br />
<br />
After one of the Aber Parti Dance nights, Gwilym, Elsa and myself played through one set of tunes together, and it was so beautiful. It was like being wrapped up in a cozy blanket...<br />
<br />
Then I got terribly sick for nearly two weeks, mostly stayed in bed. I was supposed to meet up with Harriet but I just wasn't able. I also missed a visit with my cousin John unfortunately.<br />
<br />
And that was about it.<br />
<br />
Next, I travel all over the place... Capelywig, Ystalyfera, Abertawe and the Gower...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-76970179140306144012011-04-21T17:21:00.000-07:002011-04-21T18:16:18.179-07:00One Year...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUIDD7ZlOUJ3tkjjdQ910fx7EqBtNT4nDyWkhsNn9hEivPZ5fSO8y7nNAgGrgYcKxIinBNjyyHsFOiyJKCxx_664zM19P_BdgfLCBoqBveak3URb95Gf1ArFgD6SZtFYTtOFNktVtr5OM/s1600/CIMG3005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUIDD7ZlOUJ3tkjjdQ910fx7EqBtNT4nDyWkhsNn9hEivPZ5fSO8y7nNAgGrgYcKxIinBNjyyHsFOiyJKCxx_664zM19P_BdgfLCBoqBveak3URb95Gf1ArFgD6SZtFYTtOFNktVtr5OM/s200/CIMG3005.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Yep... one year in Wales. Time to reflect I suppose.<br />
<br />
My harp playing still has a really long, long way to go, but it's slowly getting better. Not too bad for a trombone player anyway... and I really do love being in Wales...<br />
<br />
Wales... Julie mentioned to me that all of this will one day become normal. Maybe. But my life has never been normal really. I've lived three lifetimes in one already, though you might not guess it. So many stories to tell...<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
But who knows. Maybe it will all turn into something resembling normal. But I'm having trouble imagining that.<br />
<br />
Every green hill I see, every flower, every gorse bush, every black cliff, the weight of the ocean, the mists, the music and the musicians, the Welsh language... I can't imagine that it'll ever become 'normal' or banal. Maybe, though.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmCuW-ONFdbTA8fFCjaa-R3NKsEwwhYas_FijalVltX-NWVoxRJQu53wkBkFftYkYXE5OtWFg0YpDIfEgnGlVcpSJl_ovFFtlX-KIYq6YHMut2a1MhUtyTtCFRiuX0mzrKjFxX4c2_1xg/s1600/CIMG2959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmCuW-ONFdbTA8fFCjaa-R3NKsEwwhYas_FijalVltX-NWVoxRJQu53wkBkFftYkYXE5OtWFg0YpDIfEgnGlVcpSJl_ovFFtlX-KIYq6YHMut2a1MhUtyTtCFRiuX0mzrKjFxX4c2_1xg/s200/CIMG2959.JPG" width="150" /></a>Maybe I'll stop moving around. Rest my feet for a turn. I don't know...<br />
<br />
A new thought about Canada. I talked it through with Martin and Sille. Finally figured out what was bothering me. I guess, I expected going back to Canada to feel like going home... but despite the best efforts of my friends there, it just didn't. <br />
<br />
Strange...<br />
<br />
It turns out I'm not only a Salieri, I'm also an 'Oz' (as in Daniel). If you catch these references, full marks. <br />
<br />
I've been having dreams...<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGRjkuNz3Ua4oa1u8A9-ADvZSRcqBTS7FNEgLtF2D3gnYr89qPAYsuxVIy3CY4wCWfCgOBAXlfdRbMDOn64_CW4YMsAymZt78RmUjLClj4UBYvVFk4g3Gkspj9TtQY9Kh3BnkW73HJITo/s1600/CIMG2950.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGRjkuNz3Ua4oa1u8A9-ADvZSRcqBTS7FNEgLtF2D3gnYr89qPAYsuxVIy3CY4wCWfCgOBAXlfdRbMDOn64_CW4YMsAymZt78RmUjLClj4UBYvVFk4g3Gkspj9TtQY9Kh3BnkW73HJITo/s200/CIMG2950.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>We each have our own stories, don't we. As for my stories, well... music took me to a place I could never have dreamed possible. I don't have the space or time to tell all the stories, so I give you grains of stories. Come up with your own versions and endings if you wish... I'd love that... drop me a line if you're struck by the muses... or ask me about them someday, and I'll take you on a journey...<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>I remember...</b><br />
<br />
...raw leeks and beer with my musical brothers, serenading the girls in the early morning, security after us three times over...<br />
<br />
...karaoke in the library, listening to the scratch of vinyl, improvising in the dark...<br />
<br />
<i>...</i>a man from Hong Kong, dancer extraordinaire, 70 years young but looked 40, taught me Tai Chi...<br />
<br />
...nights of salvation spent at a 24 hour breakfast greasy spoon...<br />
<br />
...being pulled over by a police officer on New Year's Eve for driving with a flat tire, two very drunk Japanese girls in kimonos in the back, me in a kilt in the middle of a Canadian blizzard...<br />
<br />
...playing with a Latin band on New Year's Eve and getting paid in empanadas...<br />
<br />
...bungi jumping in Nanaimo and after a gig, skinny dipping under the stars...<br />
<br />
...drawing comics with my brother in music, laughing until 7 in the morning...<br />
<br />
...playing the Windspear Theatre at the end of an era...<br />
<br />
...Saskatoon... best city there ever was to play... dancing celebrations, a store for wiccans, a cold beer in the sun, Broadway Roasters, a blues jam, beet root pickle and peanut butter...<br />
<br />
...ska dancing in a muck ridden tent, giving party to tree planters while a massive bonfire rages beside the tent, a girl with a Welsh dragon tattoo...<br />
<br />
...celebrating the life and death of my musical mentor with my closest friends...<br />
<br />
...our band causing the famous Canada Day riots on Whyte Ave...<br />
<br />
...driving through the mountains with my always, finding sulphur hot springs and cold mountain lakes, the impossible rope swing...<br />
<br />
...communal Sunday breakfasts with the artists of Melba...<br />
<br />
...playing in Bella Coola, crawling into a small plane, talk of bears and a song sung to grandfather tree... the journey ends on Wreck Beach, naked...<br />
<br />
...being bounced out of the bar from my own gig...<br />
<br />
...connecting and falling in love with Muskafa and all her fans every Sunday at the biker bar, the Commie, falling into the warm embrace of the crowd, red balloons float by... how I miss them all...<br />
<br />
...at a breath, becoming one with my soul brother...<br />
<br />
...young Danny's infamous bass clarinet character analyses...<br />
<br />
...with my always, accidently finding and being welcomed into a Powwow...<br />
<br />
...meeting my girl for the first time...<br />
<br />
...the ska crew camping beside a train track, eating breakfast in the dew, dancing and singing all night...<br />
<br />
...mountains, mountain park gigs, and mountain men bouncing rowdy Quebecois down the stairs of the Crown, a Japanese tour group steals a lock of our singer's hair without her knowing, walls bending and shaking in time to the ska...<br />
<br />
...drunken tape recordings full of music and delirious rantings...<br />
<br />
...km's last official gig in Comox by the seafront, an appreciative crowd, seagulls playing, warm campfires on the beach, swimming in the Pacific...<br />
<br />
...the Electric Apes tear all the way across Canada, eleven of us confined to one very stinky van... playing to full and empty rooms, wonderfully chaotic atmosphere of music and laughter, and there was Saul, a van bench cut in half, a man with a gun, alcohol deliveries in the middle of the night, playing for and caring for one another... <br />
<br />
...the Apes travel to Tucson, barely making it past customs, driving for a straight 36 hours, meeting the heavy and beautiful musicians of the desert, cheap margaritas and cactus burritos, recording some damn fine music... To the Apes, for their closeness and camaraderie, thank you...<br />
<br />
...playing with Calexico at the Rialto Theatre in front of thousands...<br />
<br />
...watching my soul brother paint new worlds and thoughts, beyond my comprehension...<br />
<br />
...being open and exposed in a garage making a recording with no shape...<br />
<br />
...Wales and all her people I've met through her music, recording and playing with my idols...<br />
<br />
...all the friends I've made, that have become my family, all the people I've fallen in love with...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
That's not even the half of it, not even the quarter of it...<br />
<br />
And, of course, I haven't even mentioned the many stories of regret...<br />
<br />
A wrong word said here and there. Missed opportunities, moments of cowardice, moments of being afraid to say what needed to be said, not having the ability to see clearly enough... all good stories...<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjggz7HKTZh6yots8wCivMwDiJfaNxxIXQ8j2KMnOdHJisuUICAC8dSPyQ-TMC5KOcWtULp7rR-N7214HGALKPuek5E3EVDbL_IpiY1YeVafbxZbRO4bo7WgSPZG-QgJAc3iIi7YbU6w_o/s1600/CIMG2963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjggz7HKTZh6yots8wCivMwDiJfaNxxIXQ8j2KMnOdHJisuUICAC8dSPyQ-TMC5KOcWtULp7rR-N7214HGALKPuek5E3EVDbL_IpiY1YeVafbxZbRO4bo7WgSPZG-QgJAc3iIi7YbU6w_o/s200/CIMG2963.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>There's always a choice, isn't there. Whatever one may think, there's always a choice...<br />
<br />
It's always been music. There's my choice. And even though I have considered quitting it many times, I haven't yet made that final decision to do so. Instead, every day, I choose to continue... for the love and joy of it, more than anything else. And because life's too short...<br />
<br />
The experiences I've had, wouldn't trade them in for anything... even though they bring dreams...<br />
<br />
<br />
I didn't celebrate my year.<br />
<br />
Though the weekend at the cwps did turn into quite a riot.<br />
Perhaps I'll write about that then... Next, the Cwps and some pel-droed. Enough about music for a spell...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-53062264044949576052011-03-31T15:48:00.000-07:002011-04-04T14:57:44.316-07:00Week 52 - St. David's Day, Poetry, Corelw, Telynau Teifi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2271rXsv7fP-AnaHWuk4_etbY-lVQEpG9BFZXXSc-2rkIdEUrHrjKxpqDon2UzaAqrDwNOlhlA2DyPEkbO9WOHtsiTbNKArM5F55NYGp5wlsHmtXaWl4YWEhJLqa8FntPbaqn_pkAGCg/s1600/CIMG2866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2271rXsv7fP-AnaHWuk4_etbY-lVQEpG9BFZXXSc-2rkIdEUrHrjKxpqDon2UzaAqrDwNOlhlA2DyPEkbO9WOHtsiTbNKArM5F55NYGp5wlsHmtXaWl4YWEhJLqa8FntPbaqn_pkAGCg/s200/CIMG2866.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>I had wanted to celebrate St. David's this year in the actual St. David's but I had stayed in Cardiff after the gig with Sild. I figured the capitol would be just fine. On my way downtown, the bus driver said, "The route's changed today. I guess there's some sort of march on." <br />
<br />
So that wasn't a good sign as the "march" he was referring to was actually supposed to be the St. David's parade. Needless to say, the "march" was very meagre. Not too many Welshies take to the holiday I guess. Fair enough. I suppose it's more for ex-pats and us foreigners. Shame. I used to really enjoy handing out daffs and eating welsh cakes.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
I had heard there was a choir at the Library so I headed over there. There wasn't a choir, it turned out, but Guto Dafis was there performing. I had heard loads about Guto before and had listened to his music on "Rough Guide to Wales" and on an album called "Megin". He's a great squeeze box player. For this particular show, he was doing a mix of story telling and box playing. He was brilliant! Very good story teller. He did everything in both Welsh and English, which I really enjoyed. He told some classic Welsh folk tales and also tackled the second half of the first branch of the Mabinogi. The story of Pwyll and Rhiannon. A very hefty and wonderful story which he pulled off nicely. I'm glad he's brought that story to modern listeners... can't have it sitting in the dusty desks of scholars...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGBHhgYtEkEolzeC5vHuh-55PraOgX72kXp2JrC40I9ptvUBs_IsoOtNu_TcknTszW4CoRfQXsT-9930yRlw_pIGxoJr9BYbLQx67ZDSoBPqlTX3khBHT1-6XbOG1rsodRD-IMydYtUs/s1600/CIMG2883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGBHhgYtEkEolzeC5vHuh-55PraOgX72kXp2JrC40I9ptvUBs_IsoOtNu_TcknTszW4CoRfQXsT-9930yRlw_pIGxoJr9BYbLQx67ZDSoBPqlTX3khBHT1-6XbOG1rsodRD-IMydYtUs/s200/CIMG2883.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guto Dafis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I introduced myself afterwards and he said, "Oh yes, you're the one that writes those blogs." <br />
<br />
There's me, "......."<br />
<br />
Say what?! <br />
<br />
Bwahahaha. Now there's ridiculous. Would much prefer to be known for my harp playing than my blogging but there it is...<br />
<br />
It's always a bit strange when someone tells me they've read my blog. Of course, it's flattering at the same time. I would have loved to talk more to Guto but he was on his way to visit the Gododdin manuscript that was on display in the Library. <br />
<br />
I had considered staying at Mel's an extra day but they were quite busy, so with a gentle push she sent me on my way. She very generously paid for my taxi and bus trip! There's nice!<br />
<br />
On Thursday I went over to Cei Newydd to play a gig with Sam. Nigel the owner was very interesting. Great fellow. He had these crazy stories about when he and a load of others were living in some subway station in London... Paddington Station, I think. The working homeless with suite and tie and all.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMKkhnU2bKKckzmQObnqq9aePgfx-guy72H648myJgGHi730ojFCMXKvUdNEaTCJaYeltW7pmI9enfMayQVDHrqEoFLPvU6Tm_uKh5AIfpcvByjeDIE98UESyzxTuVbWB_pZYZ5GC4-M/s1600/new+quay+gig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMKkhnU2bKKckzmQObnqq9aePgfx-guy72H648myJgGHi730ojFCMXKvUdNEaTCJaYeltW7pmI9enfMayQVDHrqEoFLPvU6Tm_uKh5AIfpcvByjeDIE98UESyzxTuVbWB_pZYZ5GC4-M/s200/new+quay+gig.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poems and Harp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The restaurant was packed and Sam was great of course. I love how she reads her poems, very crisp and the cadence is gorgeous to listen to. She's written a slough of new poems about the Antarctica. I immediately fell in love with her new material, which are due to be published next year.<br />
<br />
I played mainly harp and a little bit of trombone. The trombone didn't work as well. I'm just not as into the trombone these days. The harp stuff went alright though. There were times where I was completely in the moment and I think I managed to capture the spirit of the poems. There were some that didn't work quite as well. Generally, those were the ones where I fell back on a tune I knew rather than free improv. Anyway, I would love to have another try at it. Hopefully.<br />
<br />
Julie and Ceri "Fliwt"'s mom came to the show. Sam was thrilled to meet Julie. She'd seen Fernhill at Oxford about ten years ago and had loved the show. Elsa was there as well with some friends. She's so supportive! Anyway, that night I went back to Pencader. Ceri's mom gave me a massive compliment and compared my style of playing to Llio's. Duw! That's absolutely massive.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYUqH84d2RLRlJbDOn7HrBqolUURY8oVDDr_at6cImWiq2XRRHOuDbQTLYr9ww8zCShY-Ei9l6UOEGOrhOMvgQSHT_tJ2TnlmLt7kwMbbiuBNo040TViqIvAZV5eK9MKhyphenhyphenFKmMwoLwNzQ/s1600/CIMG2911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYUqH84d2RLRlJbDOn7HrBqolUURY8oVDDr_at6cImWiq2XRRHOuDbQTLYr9ww8zCShY-Ei9l6UOEGOrhOMvgQSHT_tJ2TnlmLt7kwMbbiuBNo040TViqIvAZV5eK9MKhyphenhyphenFKmMwoLwNzQ/s200/CIMG2911.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corelw Calling</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The next day we were due to play with Corelw in Llanwrda. Peni and Stef couldn't make it so they asked me to sit in. For me, it was nearly an anniversary. A little less than a year earlier I had seen Corelw play for the first time, in the exact same hall in Llanwrda. A year later, here I am playing with them. Sweet!<br />
<br />
There was a decent sized crowd. A bunch of young foreign exchange students that had worked with Jason were there dancing away. Martin was fab at the calling. Not an easy job at all. Especially as many in the crowd lacked the english and some were truly cursed with two left feet. I played a nice set with Jason and Ceri "Ffliwt" which I really enjoyed. The tunes that Corelw play and the manner in which they play them, make them stand out from other bands. Julie sang a great a-cappella Breton tune while she danced along. Brilliant! Sille ended the night with some hurdy-gurdy. It was a seriously good night.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rejC18r9IaA6o_QR1tCfBP80nP86PKoeV3jNVDcYUiZlqYA8lpjvMeUeTfTAyXo52BgriamLdQSVwLj41-zzhDEE6RaJ-h5duiP53i_RcrAacAcXO1MQDDHYTuWSMbjurFxY5gt6V8k/s1600/CIMG2925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rejC18r9IaA6o_QR1tCfBP80nP86PKoeV3jNVDcYUiZlqYA8lpjvMeUeTfTAyXo52BgriamLdQSVwLj41-zzhDEE6RaJ-h5duiP53i_RcrAacAcXO1MQDDHYTuWSMbjurFxY5gt6V8k/s200/CIMG2925.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dancing Dancers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I met Ceri and Julie's friend Kate the following day. She was an absolute riot! What a sense of humour! ...with no subject off limits. I later rehearsed with Julie a bit. At some point I visited Telynau Teifi to see their new pedal harps. But turns out, they've decided not to release their own and simply sell Pilgrim harps instead. I don't think that's a good idea but whatever. The "Telor" is still the most beautiful harp I've ever played. I tried to get financing to buy it but of course was refused. Self-employed musician?! As if! That's always been the story but this time is especially fair.<br />
<br />
I played some more with Julie on the Sunday. I also talked a bit of Welsh to Julie which was cool. My Welsh has stepped backwards in a serious way. Ceri "Ffliwt" wasn't into it but I understand why. It's that feeling... the same feeling I had about playing for Kate and previously for Grant and Helen. If it's not natural, I don't want to do it. Any hint of showing off and I'm out.<br />
<br />
It reminds me of when my Canadian friends want me to say something in Welsh. I know they mean well and are just really curious, but it always seems a bit as if Welsh and I are side-show freaks or something. Anyway, I love the Welsh language and very simply wish I could speak and understand it better.<br />
<br />
Maybe I'll write something about that struggle another time.<br />
<br />
Right, next, I watch an anniversary fly by...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZVuTYqIDGQquxXRJ58i3YopJB0egbzHfAEb8rarV06E03arOXhK8PoLeEyg4XSHkEsLf35YC6ulF-ojdedsWGgFQtKnHHPOpcsJhgGyeIf7tjbZuRBIe58dP-gA-ldDeQv29hQshOdKA/s1600/CIMG2932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZVuTYqIDGQquxXRJ58i3YopJB0egbzHfAEb8rarV06E03arOXhK8PoLeEyg4XSHkEsLf35YC6ulF-ojdedsWGgFQtKnHHPOpcsJhgGyeIf7tjbZuRBIe58dP-gA-ldDeQv29hQshOdKA/s320/CIMG2932.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ceri "Ffliwt" and Julie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-39068869462143121222011-03-27T11:18:00.000-07:002011-03-31T15:50:03.343-07:00Week 51 - Ystalyfera with Martin and Sille<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETERwJpKF6krDz6nVZU_2XLbv38el3W8VSxGaYnLyfQE7sPPVnTnt-4nV8f6WeEhLnhY6f60CNKRSMjNkz77TQiF5hj0b5a5nqdk7DVMKyzwEvFg6HsfR5HtYaLzivYIz28-OsD_1YJk/s1600/CIMG2843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETERwJpKF6krDz6nVZU_2XLbv38el3W8VSxGaYnLyfQE7sPPVnTnt-4nV8f6WeEhLnhY6f60CNKRSMjNkz77TQiF5hj0b5a5nqdk7DVMKyzwEvFg6HsfR5HtYaLzivYIz28-OsD_1YJk/s200/CIMG2843.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>This week was half term so no Welsh class. I practiced loads and worked on a grant.<br />
<br />
Later in the week I caught the bus down to Abertawe and met Martin and Sille in Ystalyfera. I hadn't played with them in a really long time so it was great to hang out at the house once again. Of course, I had missed them loads.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
We played a bunch of tunes, both twmpath music and Sild's material... and, naturally, ate loads of good food coupled with drinks. On Saturday we made the trip down to the Gower. We went straight to some pub to watch the rugby as soon as we got there, Wales vs. Italy, I think. The game wasn't great even though Wales won. Wales hasn't been playing very well. Ta beth...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga8ttxZ78lOMvpeD7ml-8-QdSzPHf8el0IGsvgnOEF1iuQ2WjWYTbaotESsECHCOxc89nI7733XXPv3wEnACwy8OMEPDPHklHePfiz9rNOqRWv-LIbC5OkOyIvjq2cog1KVxg2YTmaCyQ/s1600/CIMG2848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga8ttxZ78lOMvpeD7ml-8-QdSzPHf8el0IGsvgnOEF1iuQ2WjWYTbaotESsECHCOxc89nI7733XXPv3wEnACwy8OMEPDPHklHePfiz9rNOqRWv-LIbC5OkOyIvjq2cog1KVxg2YTmaCyQ/s200/CIMG2848.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beauty of the Gower</td></tr>
</tbody></table>That evening we played at the King Arthur pub. It's a very cozy, comfortable place. Like so many of the pubs in Wales, it's proper. By that, I mean, it's not a chain and it's not fake like so many of the Irish theme pubs you find in Canada. At any rate, somehow, we played nearly four hours solid almost without realizing. We didn't even get through all the tunes. How amazing is that? I'm not sure how, but I think, partly it's the joy of playing with these two that the perception of time shifts so dramatically.<br />
<br />
Of course, I've already written extensively about Martin and Sille's music. At the risk of repeating myself, their playing is exquisite... emotive and dark yet delicate and sensitive all at once. Beautiful to listen to and to be a part of...<br />
<br />
The next day we went for a long walk with their friends Helen and Grant. Grant sings in a rock band with our other friend, Dave "Doug" Morgan. Helen is a great conversationalist and I enjoyed listening to all her stories. And of course, the landscape in the Gower is so incredible. We went past the old tomb again and then quite a bit further. What a beautiful day.<br />
<br />
Martin and Sille have been really helping me to find gigs. My simple thanks is not enough for all that they have done for me. Without their help, I'd be back in Canada already with my tail between my legs. I'd written a song about them called Moonshine. A play on words... I know it's not much, but for now that will have to do as a way to show my gratitude.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVM_Kku1AqxQTCppqvc22uZBysy-bmHNGqgssX0YBKLHfvRZnStEHZMMS6svGGaQ4R4ogGqWA007K2GwSRknHC7p4sAA5rI-2m10oMJxVeBR-YKXmSGLgxT_e9COFEkkdg8h9spqKSd94/s1600/CIMG2854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVM_Kku1AqxQTCppqvc22uZBysy-bmHNGqgssX0YBKLHfvRZnStEHZMMS6svGGaQ4R4ogGqWA007K2GwSRknHC7p4sAA5rI-2m10oMJxVeBR-YKXmSGLgxT_e9COFEkkdg8h9spqKSd94/s200/CIMG2854.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ten Feet Tall</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Martin's parents were as welcoming as before. His mom made some very amazing meals. At one meal, Martin's mom was giving him the gears about his long hair. That made me laugh! Parents the world over... Anyway, we didn't party too hard this time around, probably just as well.<br />
<br />
Later that evening we went back to Ystalyfera for more rehearsing. <br />
<br />
On Monday we played a gig in Cardiff at this pub, Ten Feet Tall. We opened for an Estonian band called "Weekend Guitar Trio". I think our set went pretty well. Martin and Sille are real pros and seemed to remain calm throughout it all. I think I played better but I do still find it rather unnerving that people in the audience are actually paying attention. How weird is that?<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2uKEIi4TAsjXpg2aGlJVlLcU72cAx4wdfRpm23zgRT8hUhIv0TyNFnGPLDaA-ETUOyr_WH1mWUWhA_10SdyXI8I9-DXcwCbiArlN-mLFxzwpp8NUttrfNB90O4Ug3I0Ppt6EYj7nBiUw/s1600/CIMG2861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2uKEIi4TAsjXpg2aGlJVlLcU72cAx4wdfRpm23zgRT8hUhIv0TyNFnGPLDaA-ETUOyr_WH1mWUWhA_10SdyXI8I9-DXcwCbiArlN-mLFxzwpp8NUttrfNB90O4Ug3I0Ppt6EYj7nBiUw/s200/CIMG2861.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weekend Guitar Trio</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I really enjoyed Weekend Guitar Trio. I'm not sure that anyone else did but there you go. They were a strange mix of jazz, free imrov and groove based music. Nearly Third Stream but not quite. They didn't use sheet music which was impressive considering the tightness of their arrangements coupled with some truly bizarre and interesting time changes.<br />
<br />
Sille mentioned that they probably wouldn't have me play with them as much anymore. Fair enough. Sild's tunes are already complete, already whole... I wasn't even the icing on the cake... more like the m&m's on the icing, so to speak. If that makes sense... And they've already done so much to help me out felly 'na fe.<br />
<br />
That night I stayed in Cardiff at Mel's place.<br />
<br />
Next, a very busy week, I celebrate St. David's Day, meet Guto, play a gig with Sam and play with Corelw in Llanwrda...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjCnJyTxa8NvEkhn28Pmc5UBYSrp2WxlcPr41-yqt5JdsGkg8nOBPCuCQQsrn0BCQf1j-R3EcogEpHqyFOrclfF30nJIWBs0sdIDcAOCMtT6Lt1c1PwxS7sqNmqygwQk8tvH33mjllX9o/s1600/CIMG2842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjCnJyTxa8NvEkhn28Pmc5UBYSrp2WxlcPr41-yqt5JdsGkg8nOBPCuCQQsrn0BCQf1j-R3EcogEpHqyFOrclfF30nJIWBs0sdIDcAOCMtT6Lt1c1PwxS7sqNmqygwQk8tvH33mjllX9o/s320/CIMG2842.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">King Arthur's Hill</td></tr>
</tbody></table>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-29013744164307971112011-03-14T18:27:00.000-07:002011-03-31T15:49:01.855-07:00Week 50 - Recording in Abergwaun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTMcTvIUGuLUStA6bQvPEhPOBjJ-RJbFhijiro0uIXyquNO3vVFVRdnD7KL2QcPporfFdanYswEulaw8PBH-A3axHe00EzDbXXPfKhrjSW2aDNnrcFK5jeKMU7xU6xxC6wjSAH8NdVnc/s1600/CIMG2804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTMcTvIUGuLUStA6bQvPEhPOBjJ-RJbFhijiro0uIXyquNO3vVFVRdnD7KL2QcPporfFdanYswEulaw8PBH-A3axHe00EzDbXXPfKhrjSW2aDNnrcFK5jeKMU7xU6xxC6wjSAH8NdVnc/s200/CIMG2804.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I caught the bus all the way down to Abergwaun to meet Jens Schroeder and his friend Andreas in the Royal Oak Pub. <br />
<br />
A short story about the Royal Oak... This was the pub where the French attacking force, <i>La Legione Noire</i>, signed over their surrender after the Battle of Fishguard in 1797. The Welsh women of the area were said to have played a major role in the battle. If I remember right, the women marched around the hill, past the cliffs, in a wide circle... and with their tall top hats and red dress, looked very much like part of the British army. To the French army below, it must have looked like a massive opposing force, a never ending march of British soldiers. One Welsh woman is remembered in particular, Jemima "Fawr" Niclas, for single handedly capturing twelve French soldiers, wielding only a pitchfork.<br />
<br />
And where were the men? ...Probably having a pint in the Royal Oak!<br />
<br />
Just kidding... apparently, the Pembroke Yeomanry was the first volunteer unit in Britain to be awarded a battle honour. The Battle honour 'Fishguard'.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-eiEt4CA9cUUfjsK3y86O0kzMBf1sTsvz7tP4h4v3YycFQE3Nx5HsepaiynbW5spvYogoJJvbJTuMw9hC6iYWwrX1Ci4LLPRVDiX72BZC1LDG_ECuGJqH0oUsV2CvMJ8INM2wLjlqsA/s1600/CIMG2802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-eiEt4CA9cUUfjsK3y86O0kzMBf1sTsvz7tP4h4v3YycFQE3Nx5HsepaiynbW5spvYogoJJvbJTuMw9hC6iYWwrX1Ci4LLPRVDiX72BZC1LDG_ECuGJqH0oUsV2CvMJ8INM2wLjlqsA/s200/CIMG2802.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jens and Andreas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anyway, Jens was the recording engineer on the international award winning Blodeugerdd album. He'd agreed to record a short demo for me. I hadn't seen him in over two years so it was good to catch up. Jens has great ears and also a great sense of humour. He's got a cool little studio on his farm called Dreamworld Studio.<br />
<br />
That evening, after beer and Thai food, we listened to this Indie band called Tunng. A cool sounding band, electro-folk might be the way to describe them. They had a similar sound to Postal Service. We also listened to Llio's new album in it's entirety. Holy... duw! She's created something unbelievably extraordinary. Tomos 'Trumpet' is on the album as well. I'm not sure when it'll be released but definitely worth looking out for.<br />
<br />
Llio might be the last sole inheritor of the Welsh triple harp tradition. Oh, I know, I know.... you're going to start citing me this person or that person...<br />
<br />
Well, you can hear, in Llio's playing something that I've never heard before in any other harpers approach - in tone, attack, style, esthetic... she plays with fluidity, grace and complete freedom. Llio uses very lightly strung harps, plays with a hand position I've never seen before, uses a combination of finger pad and finger nail which is quite unique, she strikes the strings rather than plucks them (much different to the classical harpers) and she improvises... free improv. Even when she plays some of the old Welsh "standards", she's much freer within the music. She plays with an emotive soaring esthetic that I've yet to hear replicated by anyone else on the harp.<br />
<br />
I'll tell you this, she's one of the only harpers I listen to on a regular basis.<br />
<br />
<br />
But I digress...<br />
I think Jens said he moved from Germany to Wales back in 1994. He was playing with some type of rock band. Andreas also used to play in a rather successful pop band but now, is a psychologist. He still plays quite frequently with a band back in Germany. I think he visits Jens every year. Of course, they're both very insightful and quite interesting to hang out with.<br />
<br />
I crashed at the farm that night, slept in the front room. Andreas was trying to make plans for the next day and asked Jens what time we'd start recording. Jens said, "Well, some point in the morning." Andreas, "What time do you think then? Nine?" Jens replied, "Well, let's try not be too German about it."<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtrqBf5NPWU0LUFMtqUBHBCzGQoPUlRyayPi16afuKzQ7MQkzGq_A5zh51m6g-r1qQlc2nNZOJ-Ai3DYdnMW9oVaxML-YqUqdtj5S3nmFnH6KMHU_qjIdLhjxMoLC8G6fV9s0EDA_pNg/s1600/CIMG2803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtrqBf5NPWU0LUFMtqUBHBCzGQoPUlRyayPi16afuKzQ7MQkzGq_A5zh51m6g-r1qQlc2nNZOJ-Ai3DYdnMW9oVaxML-YqUqdtj5S3nmFnH6KMHU_qjIdLhjxMoLC8G6fV9s0EDA_pNg/s200/CIMG2803.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Old Farmhouse - Sir Benfro</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jens, of course, is a great engineer and his farmhouse is the perfect place to play. It's incredibly beautiful and inspiring out there.<br />
<br />
The next day, I was way too excited and couldn't stop myself from playing. I had all this music I wanted to get out but not enough hours in the day to do it. For some reason, I thought it'd be a good idea to record nine sets of tunes in the one session. Mixed and mastered all within the day. I could have used a producer to tell me when to take a breather or when to try another take. I probably would have been better off to get three really good takes instead of nine mediocre ones. <br />
<br />
I'll post the recording later to Bandcamp. It's not a perfect performance by any stretch. I suppose, it sounds human at least. But that's how it always is with recordings... a snapshot of a step along the journey...<br />
<br />
<br />
The following day, I met Sam for a quick rehearsal. Then, we went over to Fran's and had an equally quick visit. They're both so very busy.<br />
<br />
I had trouble understanding Catrin that day. She was speaking with Sarah in Welsh, very fast. I get extremely frustrated with myself when I can't understand native speakers. It drives me nuts that I can't speak Welsh properly and, side note, it drives me even crazier that I can't pronounce my own name properly. I wonder when or if I'll ever be fluent.<br />
<br />
Next, a couple more gigs with Sild...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-6974244267421764162011-03-10T18:27:00.000-08:002011-03-11T04:35:52.248-08:00Week 49 - Ty Siamas and Corelw<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRJJH3aArTb7esz1NSQgjy47-QWqHc98eOCZYwBvxiKebLWAflB1NJLgqjgUS06w3fkEsL-FXN33uu-z9xi4f_fltYa-AwC825wpoz5NYWn0WYs6SOhCUJkk0Hh0CLJzWLCtUnzvC1eS0/s1600/CIMG2743.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRJJH3aArTb7esz1NSQgjy47-QWqHc98eOCZYwBvxiKebLWAflB1NJLgqjgUS06w3fkEsL-FXN33uu-z9xi4f_fltYa-AwC825wpoz5NYWn0WYs6SOhCUJkk0Hh0CLJzWLCtUnzvC1eS0/s200/CIMG2743.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>It was a funny week.<br />
<br />
I went up to Dolgellau again with Gwil. Of course, we stopped by our usual haunt, Y Sospan. Well, it's not looking too clever over at the school. It's the second time I've been there that they haven't had a space for us to teach. Gwil was saying that it's happened quite a bit to him since christmas. I think he was upset about it. I must admit, I was expecting something like this and wasn't bothered overly. I don't think the headmaster ever really saw the point.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
There's another rather massive problem at the school which the headmaster doesn't seem to notice... but I'll talk about that later.<br />
<br />
To be honest, I'd just as soon drop the project. Some things aren't worth the hassle. But Gwil seems willing to continuing trying, mainly to keep working for the kids. We'll see.<br />
<br />
<br />
After the school debacle, I decided to go to Ty Siamas, in the hopes of finding some private teaching work. Ty Siamas is supposed to be the national folk music centre of Wales, so I thought surely they'd organize something. But they don't really, which is fairly odd. Mind, I've heard they'd lost their funding so that would explain it to some extent. I met two very nice fellows though, John and Ioan. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheEw01hMBI1Aa3OiTWJbELXPEC3yA-sIv_5550WOr3kgw_kaGVlSosWlntlhucEL6qPTBhVSUXCD5nCUNGR0e-HPTdnkm7JdxmY2MY0WMnS_rZIHOfe_q-qCZUaw8-S3YoLjyPyA7f7ro/s1600/CIMG2791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheEw01hMBI1Aa3OiTWJbELXPEC3yA-sIv_5550WOr3kgw_kaGVlSosWlntlhucEL6qPTBhVSUXCD5nCUNGR0e-HPTdnkm7JdxmY2MY0WMnS_rZIHOfe_q-qCZUaw8-S3YoLjyPyA7f7ro/s200/CIMG2791.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Real Welsh National<br />
Folk Centre, <br />
The Kitchen in Pencader</td></tr>
</tbody></table>John was extremely nice, gave me the full tour of the place and introduced me to Rhian (harp) and Billy (guitar). He also took my number just in case something were to come up. Funny, I was speaking to him in Welsh and told him I was just learning. He was very pleased with that but, not kidding, I'm pretty sure his speech began to speed up. I found it really hard to keep up. I understood parts and guessed at others and sometimes was just, "Sori, unwaith eto?" (Sorry, once again?)<br />
<br />
Rhian seemed quite nice, although she asked me if I was self-taught after hearing me play. At the time I played it cool, but it really made me laugh afterwards. There was sub-text in that question. I doubt that I'll get any work passed my way from her. My technique is folk based rather than classical, unlike most harpers, so there you are. Oh well...<br />
<br />
After reading Trog's new blog, http://troysucks.com/2011/03/06/stylism/, it's inspired me to write more on the subject which I'll post later.<br />
<br />
<br />
I had a short jam during the week with Elsa but I was too tired to concentrate and wasn't able to keep up with her.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5wcB4YACQpEoC-gIsKP2IPRzcvAYTbxuun2zhxrhGPragmVPRUBnGEGsJ8pVduqrMzf7sOvixBViUs10qYwaECkFCIYMDmhozVYaZT1b4ACCn78febRupvkEXX0jVJt0HTTVCx4MbdmI/s1600/CIMG2761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5wcB4YACQpEoC-gIsKP2IPRzcvAYTbxuun2zhxrhGPragmVPRUBnGEGsJ8pVduqrMzf7sOvixBViUs10qYwaECkFCIYMDmhozVYaZT1b4ACCn78febRupvkEXX0jVJt0HTTVCx4MbdmI/s200/CIMG2761.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bouree - Ceri and Julie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>That weekend, Corelw held a Valentine's Day twmpath which was entirely sold out! I managed to sneak myself in, with my usual sneaky but, hopefully, charming way. Duw, even mooched a free supper! <br />
<br />
The space was very elegant and the perfect place for a dance. It was the upstairs part of The Angel pub in Llandeilo. Christine was there and she sat in with the band. Of course, Corelw sounded great and the dancing was fun as always. The best part of Corelw is how fluid and natural they sound but at the same time very tight. Martin did the bulk of the calling but Julie and Ceri also pitched in. <br />
<br />
A strange thing happened on the way to the dance. (Good name for a book, don't you think?) We overheard some Welsh media personalities chatting... you know, the supposed vanguard of the language... chatting away in English. All in their very posh outfits. Quite sad really. The funniest part of it was Ceri and Julie's reaction... they were remarkably vocal in their distain. Bwahahaha! Man, it was great to watch! <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRAXJt1plWx6UMIIFNf2U67SIbNCaSF8WLvIgXhnrdLXpoPsFjE-9H_yT2PnjyXeYZ98llAwRFnbTtpoijCc3AB66TPVYI90KuLSllCnjDbbCWDE737XaiGhViJAXxbyDBQPvWsn-HG10/s1600/CIMG2768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRAXJt1plWx6UMIIFNf2U67SIbNCaSF8WLvIgXhnrdLXpoPsFjE-9H_yT2PnjyXeYZ98llAwRFnbTtpoijCc3AB66TPVYI90KuLSllCnjDbbCWDE737XaiGhViJAXxbyDBQPvWsn-HG10/s200/CIMG2768.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Angel Twmpath</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Also before the dance, Martin and I watched the rugby in one of the other local pubs, which was much earthier. Took in some of the local colour, as it were.<br />
<br />
There were quite a few people that I recognized there. I danced this crazy Breton horse galloping dance with Vicky "Ffynnon". Christine and I participated in a long ways set, I think the Waves of Tory, which our group just couldn't get right. It was supposed to be a progressive set but somehow Vicky "Ffynnon" and her partner always ended back in the 'dancers' position. Vicky "Penfro" was there and we later danced a waltz together. I actually won a free bottle of sparkling wine in the raffle which was incredible. Unfortunately, Peni "Pipes" was in considerable pain (I later heard she might have tendinitis. I really hope she's better soon...)<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8fM-6dApz8uSnpyrZMWnUbxJ96VXNgZ7xpy3Nnm0QyAvoCLN7aXIz6I9OG0-1lgLW_7ANvMF0AUTck6Y5rx-T6w6wOlWItD7sFZA3prh-kdCXBtJKVjFKwpmZk8jAKMajsf0-8DcwAQ/s1600/CIMG2777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8fM-6dApz8uSnpyrZMWnUbxJ96VXNgZ7xpy3Nnm0QyAvoCLN7aXIz6I9OG0-1lgLW_7ANvMF0AUTck6Y5rx-T6w6wOlWItD7sFZA3prh-kdCXBtJKVjFKwpmZk8jAKMajsf0-8DcwAQ/s200/CIMG2777.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fliwt and Crwth</td></tr>
</tbody></table>After the dance, Ceri and Stef played a little private set, flute and crwth, really quite beautiful.<br />
<br />
Christine told me a wonderful story on the drive back. I was trying to think of one to share but was completely tongue tied. Strange, I usually have loads of stories floating around. I played a bit of harp with the three of them after in Pencader and I also played some trombone, just some improv. It was loads of fun. A great little jam session.<br />
<br />
The next morning, the three of them played and worked through some new Fernhill arrangements. It was nice to just sit back and take it all in. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizN9X43tETntgs8G6fYEL6plzi1X-QjFHBLyQ3ljjuY6ivQVLSg2Kv3wTtQaNs4h_I5acf14ACsca4vOAX0NPsWvmzSMl_Wdi0M3NiXDlrnh0nYtllQ6nLT3Ooe8afIxi39YFgO5dD9Sc/s1600/CIMG2797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizN9X43tETntgs8G6fYEL6plzi1X-QjFHBLyQ3ljjuY6ivQVLSg2Kv3wTtQaNs4h_I5acf14ACsca4vOAX0NPsWvmzSMl_Wdi0M3NiXDlrnh0nYtllQ6nLT3Ooe8afIxi39YFgO5dD9Sc/s200/CIMG2797.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caerfyrddin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Christine is very definitely moving to Brighton now, after Fernhill's trip to the Netherlands. Ah well. She gave me a lift back into Caerfyrddin the next day. I had a chance to explore the town a bit before catching the magic and secret coach back to Aber. I used to really enjoy visiting Caerfyrddin when I was a kid, especially the market. <br />
<br />
To the side is a picture of her castle and below, a rhyme I once learned about the town.<br />
<br />
<i>"When Merlin's oak comes tumbling down, so shall fall Carmarthen town."</i><br />
<br />
<br />
Next, I meet Jens in Abergwaun for a recording...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzdhapCXZXykgmvsuF5rwzaVGEaGYhDyUdCdqmzdMoUE6tIOmKCyN2pajsyzzH09Cqzj7WL3C9bWGSFC1Wanyl_ZmY293QdQODWSxxujY6fYHFmXlNU6BUkWipabaNc69KJsMAG728Sg/s1600/CIMG2755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzdhapCXZXykgmvsuF5rwzaVGEaGYhDyUdCdqmzdMoUE6tIOmKCyN2pajsyzzH09Cqzj7WL3C9bWGSFC1Wanyl_ZmY293QdQODWSxxujY6fYHFmXlNU6BUkWipabaNc69KJsMAG728Sg/s320/CIMG2755.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corelw</td></tr>
</tbody></table>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-78305809357393643032011-03-03T17:37:00.000-08:002011-03-03T17:37:30.329-08:00Week 48 - A great session with Gwil and Elsa!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEa24hgbT3qTY0X8CWZylIjlLKredNNEnPDysjouNhkbDeoq4kXWzamPkMPZ2Gr_9CNMO2AD-dWs0HgRWuqNq1OotMy5cgYJIdjpDyOFtuYMX8Sf-K7zdG-KGAGnN5lg4zpnVq6W-FJOs/s1600/CIMG2738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEa24hgbT3qTY0X8CWZylIjlLKredNNEnPDysjouNhkbDeoq4kXWzamPkMPZ2Gr_9CNMO2AD-dWs0HgRWuqNq1OotMy5cgYJIdjpDyOFtuYMX8Sf-K7zdG-KGAGnN5lg4zpnVq6W-FJOs/s200/CIMG2738.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>I heard Julie say this at some point, in jest "Don't let the facts get in the way of a good story." That might become my new motto! <br />
<br />
I was back at the Aber folk dance night. I think I might have tried some clogging which is good fun but hard to do. I also ran into Buddug in my new Welsh class. Her Welsh is amazing. She was saying she's not enjoying Pantycelyn Uni residence (It's the Welsh speaking flats). For one thing, she's got a straight head on her shoulders and already lived, so to speak, whereas, most of the other students are there just to party. The other strange thing, she was saying, was that most of the students switch into English almost immediately. I've noticed this up in Dolgellau in the Welsh language school. Welsh isn't the predominant language at all. This is a very bad sign. End times, I'd say... <br />
<br />
But enough of that. I'll rant about it later, shall I? Onto happier things...<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
I <i>finally</i> had another session with Gwil and Elsa. Elsa took to calling me "Gwal" in emails and it made me laugh hysterically. She addressed the two of us as "Gwil, Gwal". It's perfect! I love the name and hope it sticks, though usually the ones I like don't tend to.<br />
<br />
In prep for the session, I worked hard to go through some of our old recordings from the summer. There's literally hours of material. It was an unbelievable outpouring of creativity. I honestly couldn't believe it. No wonder I wasn't able to keep up with them.<br />
<br />
At any rate, I tried my best to get somewhat organized. I wrote out a list all the tunes and sets they'd come up with. That simple list was well over four very full pages! I learned quite a few tunes and tried to get some of the old sets together again. <br />
<br />
There was one recording session that went on for about 40 minutes. I think there were at least nine tunes all told. The recording is great because it's basically just the three of us sitting around chatting and playing, trying to figure out how to put it all together. Gwil and Els kept coming up with all these great ideas but we couldn't quite fit it all in. <br />
<br />
I really worked hard to get at least part of the set figured out. Managed only four of the songs, but I think it worked out pretty nice though.<br />
<br />
My playing is still not quite there so was having trouble keeping up. Gwil made us some nice pizza though and I finally got to hear Elsa play the piano. Sight reading, incredible classical tunes. And, of course, when Gwil and Els play together, it is seriously out of this world.<br />
<br />
I could blather on about them for ages but as I've already done so... Well... You can read about it in the sidebar... I would like to get them properly recorded somehow. Just time and money, I suppose... Easy, right? Well, we'll see...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqVJ-uHkovm1KG4-v3PX_9KIKTNUBsOmQcqWNAgRpSyrOQxFZDT9QmSZMZa8pTKFSdoL2mhtV-5GCulTxgGMFBXfVCdCBI3XqFVI7gOn_UijqEGlGvzYJGLVdwRhWNtEwSopEG87L1WE/s1600/CIMG2735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqVJ-uHkovm1KG4-v3PX_9KIKTNUBsOmQcqWNAgRpSyrOQxFZDT9QmSZMZa8pTKFSdoL2mhtV-5GCulTxgGMFBXfVCdCBI3XqFVI7gOn_UijqEGlGvzYJGLVdwRhWNtEwSopEG87L1WE/s200/CIMG2735.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celtic Mist</td></tr>
</tbody></table>At some point during the evening, we stopped to listen to the sea news. Boat news, maybe? Basically, a weather forecast for ships in different parts of the ocean. They were both really excited about it... though I didn't quite understand. Anyway, I think I ran out of steam early-ish, maybe around 3 am or so. Gwil had to get up quite early the next day as well. <br />
<br />
It may have been the following day that Gwil went to pentre fest in Cardiff. I was going to go but I slept in something terrible. Still not fully recovered from the time change and feeling quite sluggish. As it worked out, that weekend I had another short jam session with Elsa. She showed me some really beautiful tunes and I think we ate apples and cheese.<br />
<br />
There was also a really amazing fog that fell over Aber that week and all the flowers were starting to bloom. Much better than -25, eh?<br />
<br />
Next, a visit to Ty Siamas and I sneak into the Corelw twmpath...<br />
<br />
Hwyl.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuGC_OnTABm-JjLfvvhksttSnRwS-tzKoEmOVABhq0LmEgRpymPaAQnrboGrT4y9Q3BMXxqhBCKubSdhw66w3qiopfrkx1JgiXTQoTo3DFK9j5Y42awmzEGpLG3P5ofJE4XN7dYEtuGjA/s1600/CIMG2728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuGC_OnTABm-JjLfvvhksttSnRwS-tzKoEmOVABhq0LmEgRpymPaAQnrboGrT4y9Q3BMXxqhBCKubSdhw66w3qiopfrkx1JgiXTQoTo3DFK9j5Y42awmzEGpLG3P5ofJE4XN7dYEtuGjA/s320/CIMG2728.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorse Only Blooms When Kissing is Fashionable</td></tr>
</tbody></table>gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4962666581653103259.post-88581265437532919252011-02-27T20:26:00.000-08:002011-02-27T20:26:59.057-08:00Week 47 - Jet-lagged in Aber and Pencader<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOYqSrmHYRPuAdT2mBTEaYovydHP5Gywqatzp8U491boXXnSlFO6BYFrOEnvc-Jm7EE-SNgcv9zos0-7cikiDki7mTiCe39jKNprbH7NY5R7Dm4UVyxQ7apcx38JlgpIZ8DXNRrIuyK3c/s1600/CIMG2702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOYqSrmHYRPuAdT2mBTEaYovydHP5Gywqatzp8U491boXXnSlFO6BYFrOEnvc-Jm7EE-SNgcv9zos0-7cikiDki7mTiCe39jKNprbH7NY5R7Dm4UVyxQ7apcx38JlgpIZ8DXNRrIuyK3c/s200/CIMG2702.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>I'm ridiculously jet-lagged right now. I shouldn't be this bad. I keep alternating days of sleeping in unbelievably late and then next waking unbelievably early. <br />
<br />
I got my hair cut, and spoke Welsh with the hairdresser, Meinir. She was quite nice to chat with. I understood virtually everything that was said. Though I found I was a bit too serious in Welsh... I couldn't make any funny little comments. But it did feel good to feel vaguely fluent. Of course, that feeling never seems to last...<br />
<br />
I was back at the Welsh classes and started a new class that's at a higher level. I understood very little but it was a really great challenge.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
I worked quite a lot on Julie's tunes and tried to work up some new parts. I also started transcribing some of the old tunes that I'd always meant to learn and just never found the time.<br />
<br />
I saw Damian (Fran's husband) in the street. It was great to see him. He's so busy, it was actually the first time I'd seen him since moving to Aber. We spoke Welsh and I managed quite well for some reason. He said I was looking very cool, which is funny because I might be the least fashionable person I know.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwnQEok9mD4h1vGkNYmSl9tzUms2g8i1rYlMLZQe7lSsV2CNM1w-mgy7KA4pjRR2dBPr6j0VrhOJCWS2TLGLhDlSksp2O0-qtEGOMHs6CC9lYEDFksLqgH6oW2tbR3m77kAE0vXqqWeOw/s1600/CIMG2708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwnQEok9mD4h1vGkNYmSl9tzUms2g8i1rYlMLZQe7lSsV2CNM1w-mgy7KA4pjRR2dBPr6j0VrhOJCWS2TLGLhDlSksp2O0-qtEGOMHs6CC9lYEDFksLqgH6oW2tbR3m77kAE0vXqqWeOw/s200/CIMG2708.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Anyway, later in the week I went to Pencader. It was wonderful to see Julie and Ceri again. They're really the warmest people ever. <br />
<br />
They're both so animated telling all their sorted stories. What a treat! Their son, 'Nei is getting his chain saw license and seemed to be doing really well. I hadn't really talked to him much up 'til now. He's got quite a funny, quirky sense of humour. <br />
<br />
Julie and I worked on her tunes quite a lot. Her music sounds so incredibly beautiful. And that voice!... duw, duw! What a voice! Sublime, might be the word I'm looking for but can't even half describe it. I think quite a few of the tunes are close to completion. The parts I'd worked on didn't really work but what it did do was help me understand the tunes better. I think I've found my way finally.<br />
<br />
I'd set a distant uncle's poem to an old Welsh carol and Ceri helped me with the setting a bit. The thing is the Welsh language has very specific accents and rhythms and I was misplacing the emphasis a little. It's something I still haven't quite grasped but I'm sure as my Welsh improves so will my setting of verse.<br />
<br />
I was talking to Julie at one point about tunes. I think I was complaining about some Welsh tune, and she made the great point that even a really terrible tune can be done artfully. I think she said something like, "You should be able to sing twinkle, twinkle and still make people cry. And if you can't, you should just go home." A bit of a paraphrase but that was the gist. Of course, Elsa and Gwilym come to mind. Those two can make any crap tune sound heavenly... <br />
<br />
Anyway...<br />
<br />
Neither Julie nor Ceri ever seem to stop. They're both learning and working on new tunes. It's particularly incredible as they've only just released a new Fernhill album. One would think they'd just sit on that for the next year or so but they have so much creative energy, they just keep at it. Amazing really.<br />
<br />
<br />
AND, before I forget... the new Fernhill album is a must have. It's gorgeous and enchanting. I'll write about it more later but in the mean time, just check out the link and please make sure to buy the album and support these great musicians. Okay?! Okay.<br />
<br />
http://fernhill.bandcamp.com/album/canu-rhydd<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCdxAELuoxZ0g30K5HOsvFrAJo01ZVqgWjdf4rYKgcRQ6m96qb-hTbQ4Qpsl48wMIqvYOsYRBzscExXZGmXtTRjTpwo72wHGTVk0Tz04xRWWvZiBVSmT5zarLSVf2G3o668lRApGXh8vQ/s1600/CIMG2709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCdxAELuoxZ0g30K5HOsvFrAJo01ZVqgWjdf4rYKgcRQ6m96qb-hTbQ4Qpsl48wMIqvYOsYRBzscExXZGmXtTRjTpwo72wHGTVk0Tz04xRWWvZiBVSmT5zarLSVf2G3o668lRApGXh8vQ/s200/CIMG2709.JPG" width="200" /></a>I was treated to a little private concert of a new Fernhill set. Ceri "Ffliwt" was playing guitar and Julie was singing. I was awestruck all over again. Just the same as when I first met them.<br />
<br />
You have to remember, when I first met them, I really felt like I was meeting rock stars... not because they acted like that (in fact, they're ridiculously humble), but because I had admired their music from afar for so long. <br />
<br />
Julie and Ceri are the one's responsible for and the only reason, I ever thought Welsh folk music could actually sound great... could actually be cool. <br />
<br />
I'd searched for years looking for folk music out of Wales that sounded good. I bought compilations, asked for recommendations... and there was the occasional tune that was really quite good but honestly, nothing entirely grabbed me. That was until I stumbled upon "Rough Guide to Wales", produced by Ceri "Ffliwt". That's the first time I heard Julie singing, Ceri playing the pipes... in fact there are a lot of great 'firsts' for me from that album (more on that later)... nearly every track is incredible to listen to and a complete joy. It's an artfully crafted album.<br />
<br />
And that's Julie and Ceri. I mean, they did go to art college and that really comes out in their approach to music. Everything is creative and artfully done. And human, and ancient and modern all at the same time. I know, I know... I've already written lots about them before but I need to bow once more to them and say thank you. <br />
<br />
So...<br />
<br />
Diolch o galon! I thank you with all my heart for everything!<br />
<br />
Well, there it is. <br />
<br />
<br />
Next, another great session with Gwil and Elsa... at long last!!<br />
<br />
Hwyl.gwdihw y noshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09200167215978445538noreply@blogger.com0