celtic

The Ancestry

payal — Sat, 19 Mar 2011 08:00:00 +0000

While I’m not overly familiar with Celtic traditions or music, there was a lot for me to love about Jillian LaDage’s new album, The Ancestry. In the introduction, LaDage writes that her music explores the nature of remembrance, and both locates and preserves a kind of pan-Celtic “collective which resides in our memory.” In the CD booklet insert, each song’s lyrics are preceded by a short reverie, almost like a travel/research journal entry, dated by months in 2006, 2007, and 2008. I immediately felt kinship for LaDage’s project when I saw how the first song is introduced:

November 2006 Sweetheart Abbey, New Abbey, Scotland. The early morning mist rises as I walk these ancient grounds. I feel so keenly the presence of the modern age and yet I too see the pathways my ancestors left, the old ways that are never forgotten, where this kindling comes from within.

She goes on to tell the story of Devorgilla, Lady of Galloway, who established the Cistercian Abbey in 1272 in memory of her husband John. A rather unforgettable narrative, this past August it attracted me, too, to visit the admittedly misty abbey near the southwest coast of Scotland. The song was not actually one of my favorite four songs from the album, perhaps because of how unfamiliar I am with the sad sounds of the Uilleann pipes, but noting the synchronicity between cultural/geographical influences LaDage and I have tapped was a treat.

I most loved the middle songs, and this was partly due to my excitement at recognizing track four, a familiar traditional song, “Bonny was the Lady" (The Legend of Cong). I ultimately gained the deepest appreciation for the songs that followed, “Manzikert” and “Vanished Secrets.” In fact, I was mesmerized by their ethereal, timelessly feminine charm. I felt like I was listening to the soundtrack of a film in the same genre and of the same scope as The Lord of the Rings. LaDage's voice has incredible allure and purity, and as the cover picture suggests, she even plays harp (plus piano or keyboards) on several tracks.

There were songs I didn’t enjoy as much, but in trying to experience them fully, I found other things to savor about The Ancestry. For example, in the liner notes of “Eve of Night,” we see that LaDage was inspired by the following translation of Medieval Irish text from the gospel of Thomas, which she relates to the sometimes desperate character of Celtic migration:

“O King of the starry sky, Lest thou from me withdraw Thy light—Whether my house be dark or bright, My door shall close on none tonight."

Perhaps I found the song’s background more beautiful than the slow and ballad-like song itself, but I was perfectly prepared for a shift when “Keltoi” began, in which LaDage plays harp in a lilting, softly tribal sounding instrumental. In turn, “Keltoi” (the “first literary reference made by Greek historian Hecataeus of Miletus in 517 B.C. giving the Celtic peoples” a name) provides the perfect prologue to the final song on the album, “Endless Knot.” Her almost cooing earnestness in this song seems to evoke the longing of a boundless Celtic soul. It seems only fitting that The Ancestry ends where the voice, the compass, and then we, too, meet the wind. “There in the stillness meet the wind… There too we meet the wind.”

I would recommend this melodic selection of songs to anyone even tangentially interested in a Celtic cultural tradition or style of music. If occasionally the stories LaDage recounted felt too solemn to draw me in, they only served to underscore the transcendent beauty of her soaring voice at the close of each lyrical song.

Written by: Julie Ann, March 19th 2011

The Woody Nightshade

mandy — Tue, 18 Jan 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Sharron Kraus

Strange Attractors Audio House

Positive reviews litter the internet for Sharron Kraus’ earlier records and got me excited for her new release, The Woody Nightshade. However, the rave reviews made my disappointment with the album all the more palpable.

It took at least three listens on a really good stereo to really be able to appreciate The Woody Nightshade. To make it easy for you, if English folk music that leans on Celtic influences is what you’re into, this might be just the album for you. That said, if you’re looking for something that is instantly catchy with a firm melody or clean harmonies, then you might want to pick up something else.

The lilting dissonant vocals and random strumming that make the songs on The Woody Nightshade blend together into a cohesive work aren't intended to be experimental as much as a contemporary approach to traditional music. Kraus’ voice reminds me of recordings my sixth grade teacher played in class while we were studying the Medieval period. Her voice is simultaneously clear and indecipherable.

While it’s easy to get lost in the web of stringed instruments and to forget that there are words being sung, there’s a lingering melancholy that bubbles just under the simplistic surface of the entire album. Songs like “Evergreen Sisters” are decidedly haunting and the title track is no different; “The Woody Nightshade” is an eerie tune accompanied by vocals so slow and wandering that the lyrics are nearly lost. For Kraus, though, the form closely follows function. The listener doesn’t need to hear the line about the man she watches as “he looks away” to feel that’s what just happened. Her distant voice deftly conveys emotion.

The fifth song on the album, “Once,” is easier to get into for a first-time Kraus listener like myself. She sings simple lines we’ve all heard and thought, but with a relatable, quiet sadness: “Once there was a love, and that came to an end... Once each other’s touch was the thing we lived for.”

The Woody Nightshade is for careful listeners who are looking for sad songs to get lost in.

Written by: Tatiana Ryckman, January 18th 2011

Electric Green

alicia — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 16:00:00 +0000

By Vita Tanga, Cady Finlayson

Fiddler Cady Finlayson and guitarist Vita Tanga bring two disparate locations (Brooklyn and Paris) and musical styles (traditional Celtic music and world music/electronica) together on Electric Green, a ten-song collection of mostly traditional Irish songs, with a distinctive modern twist. In most cases the violin carries the melody while the guitar, acoustic or electric, adds depth and texture. On the best numbers Tanga’s guitar seems to urge on Finlayson’s violin with a contrapuntal effect.

The electric version of “Itchy Fingers” has a funky guitar groove and vibrant fiddle. It’s a lively tune, but abruptly slows down at the end, switching from a fast twirling jig to a slow, courtly waltz. “March Set” is a moderately-paced dance, with fast bowing from Finlayson on the break and muted percussive sounds from the guitar. “Bordeaux Set” has a different feel than most other numbers; it’s slower and more reflective, with a plucked guitar that simulates chimes. The guitar anchors the high-flying fiddle part on “Heavy Metal,” which starts off fast and then takes it up a notch.

“Bass Rock” has very gentle guitar and a moderately-paced violin part. The notes are held longer, lending it a more somber tone. It is among the most lyrical tracks, a love poem of sorts, with the soft chiming of the guitar evoking images of a small waterfall or brook. “All Set for St. Pat’s”—a medley of two traditional Irish songs, “Wearing of the Green” and “Sean South,” and the original piece “Pumpkin’s Fancy”—features bagpipes and snare and is a fitting ending for the album.

While the music on Electric Green is certainly enjoyable, the lack of varied instrumentation makes the songs less distinguishable from each other; the inclusion of the Irish whistle or more bagpipes and percussion would have done a lot to vary the music. Still, while the electric component may be hard for hard-core Celtic music fans to swallow, it adds an interesting dimension to a genre with a long history.

Written by: Karen Duda, November 9th 2010

Heartwood

mandy — Sat, 04 Sep 2010 17:26:07 +0000

By Sora

Canada Music

Canadian artist Sora lists Loreena McKennitt as one of her greatest musical influences, a fact that is apparent on her latest musical effort, Heartwood. A beautifully put together collection of songs that conjure up druid celebrations and ancient royal courts, the album is reminiscent of McKennitt's modern Celtic style. Inspiration aside, Sora is very much her own artist and Heartwood showcases her talents as both a singer and songwriter.

The title track is a great beginning to the album, and a wonderful introduction to Sora's artistic abilities. She has a classically beautiful voice that can be strong, airy, or sorrowful. For the most part, Heartwood's tracks are pretty, soothing songs that remind one of laughter, love, and sun-filled days. The album offers some variety with Sora delving into her dark side for a few songs.

The best of these darker tunes is “Eurydice,” a haunting song that possesses a hypnotic beat and seductive lyrics. The instrumentals on the album are also well done, blending perfectly with Sora's vocals. The violin and piano work is especially impressive on “Drift” and “Winter.” On both tracks, the music perfectly sets the tone for the listener before seamlessly weaving itself in with Sora's voice, making for wonderful pieces of audio art.

The cover art on Heartwood is a simple photo of Sora, tinted in warm shades of brown and gold with some etchings behind her. Heartwood also features an insert booklet with the lyrics for each song—something I personally find extremely helpful—as well as photographs of whimsical items such as feathers, leaves, stones, and bits of ribbon. The earthy yet enchanting look reflects the tone of the album and gives the listener a good indication of the mood Sora is trying to set.

With its powerful vocals and mesmerizing instrumentals, Heartwood is an album that will not disappoint. Long-time Celtic fans and those new to the genre should find it a satisfying listening experience.

Written by: Victoria Kroeger, September 4th 2010