"This is a beautifully packaged showcase for an astonishing new voice".  Michael Quinn....

SONGLINES 169
10th Anniversary issue.

Lorcan Mac Mathuna
Rogaire Dubh ....

Copperplate COPP007 
 

****....

Deep, dark and beautiful....

Lorcan Mac Mathuna's father Seamus, himself a revered exponent of sean nos ('old style') singing, has described the form as 'the least understood, most complex part of Irish traditional music. It takes a keen ear and a sharply honed sensibility to appreciate where style and substance meet in a repertoire that is raw, astringent, technically complex and regionally diverse.

Purists may well insist that only two of the ten tracks on Rogaire Dubh are strictly sean nos style, the others being variously accompanied by Hardanger fiddle, whistle, bodhrdn, harp, cello and pipes.
But strict adherence to an a capella delivery aside, Lorcan Mac Mathuna's self-produced debut is a compelling collection of lowering laments that positions him in the vanguard of a new generation of sean nos singers.

The rough-hewn fissures and cross-cut grain of Mac Mathuna's peat-dark voice are employed with admirably understated intelligence in performances, steeped in the ....Munster.... idiom. Brooding beauty is the order of the day, although album opener 'Na Tailliuri" delights with its comic playfulness, and the robust title-track is borne along with a strikingly fast-paced energy by fiddler Caoimhin O’ Raghallaigh and Mick O'Brien on uilleann pipes. Standout tracks include the savagely sardonic, drone-accompanied Irish Famine song 'Johnny Seoighe' and a wistfully truncated 'Bean Dubh an Ghleanna' (featuring Helen Lyons' light-as-morning-dew harp).

The two a capella songs are also striking: 'An Buachaillin Ban' is a bleak, dangerously sensuous tirade against John Bull; while the 18th century elegy 'Tuireamh Mhic Finin Dhuibh' sees Mac Mathiina illuminatingly mining some dislocating, bass-heavy depths.

This is a beautifully packaged showcase for an astonishing new voice.  Michael Quinn

We just finished the concert series in Cork the other week in the Sirius arts centre in Cobh. This is some sort of civic or customs building onnected with the adjacent docks from the 19^th century and it is still in the same state as it must have been when it was first built. Its commercial function no longer exists as, since the decline of passenger liner as a means of long distance passenger transport, Cobh is no longer the major port it once was. These Victorians built their fiscal and legal buildings with a symbolic grandeur and this magnificent and solid building is no exception. It was built to last and impose on the commercial activity of the port. It serves a more cultured purpose now and those hard floors, walls, and vaulted ceilings make for a terrific acoustics. 

The room we played in was a spacious size with hard wooden floors a large window facing on to the docks behind us and spectacular mouldings on the ceiling. The overall effect of the cornice mouldings was to give it a vault ceiling which did some really magnificent things with the sound. It was a gorgeous venue and the sound was magnificent, we took some recordings on a zen mp3 voice recorder. The mike on these things are pretty crap but the sound in the room was so good that it came out pretty well –there are two on the playlist here, an buachaillín bán / rógaire dubh, and aisling geall.

The programme of our concerts changed a bit over the series. One of the reasons was the addition of Matieu O' Shaughnesy  A young Uillean piper who seemed to know most of the airs already he also played some deadly solos and sets with Joey and Barry giving a better mix of rhythmic and lively music to compliment the songs. He added a great element to the overall sound which worked really well -watch out for him in future because I'd say he will make a big name for himself.

To create a bit of interest in this concert I contacted four local papers and asked would they like a free article from me loosely connected with the concert but with a local interest. They all said grand so I sent around an article on The Conneries which they all gave a full page to (see below). It worked alright and there was a grand crowd at the concert where I started with the story of the Conneries and explained how my interpretation reflected their life and the admiration the people of East and North Cork and Waterford had for them. With a song like this you don't need instrumental work, in fact I think it would be impossible to add to it with an instrumental arrangement so I sang it solo and then asked the lads on stage.

I'm glad to say we have worked out a good direction for future projects including a number of catchy songs with great pulse and beats and we have a lot of material for an album in the coming year (2009 that is).

So we stayed in Baile Caisleán an Róistigh that night (it was a long night by the way) and woke the next day to the bustle of a car boot sale in the next field. It was a glorious day and everyone was keen on the idea of a root around in the brick a brack. So that was it and off we went.

The CBS was massive! Absolutely huge! It goes on every fortnight and it brings in sellers and customers from all over Munster. I spotted a smashing basin and cast my eye over it. It was arklow pottery and about a foot and a half in diameter and about 7 or 8 inches high. I really liked it but I didn't know where I'd use it so I declined the seller's offer of €20. He was determined though, bless him, and he came after me twice with a €18 and then a €15 offer. I couldn't refuse this and Emma was dying to get it for the house for when we get married (did I mention Emma before?). Get it she said and store it in a box in the attic. It made sense to me and with this newfound mission I picked up three gorgeous wedgewood cups with saucers for only a euro each. They were wafer thin china, almost translucent, to delicate o handle nearly. I got a couple of other things which I was really pleased with and all for a single euro a pop so I was dead pleased.

I was coming out of the main marquee where many of the stalls were and met the boys outside who were also extremely happy with a number of mad looking yokes in trail. Barry got an old wreck of a clock and a child's play mat with a village road plan design for the floor of the camper van. Matieu got a portable television and an antique set of Golf clubs and Joey, beaming from ear to ear, had the pick of the lot, an electric harmonium he picked up for €85. This thing looked the goods but we didn't know if it would work so we were keen to get it back to the house to try it out.

We arrived back at the house long before Liam who had the keys and started on the Harmonium. It was old school stuff, an electromechanical thing with no electronic parts. I remember there was an old wheelie bites wrapper lodged in behind the foot pedal; which should tell you how long since it was used. The electric part was just a fan which pumped the bellows. Apart from that it was the same as a manual mini organ only it had reeds instead of pipes.

We were on the path outside the house and dying to get the thing in operation so we plugged it into an extension lead that was lying around. It worked like a charm –it had a couple of worn pads which meant that at least one of the reeds leaked a little but it was fully operational.

We had a little session on the doorstep where I sang an Buachail Caol Dubh and Johnny Seoighe while Joey played. It was deadly. And just the sound I was thinking of for An Buachail Caol Dubh. –If you don't know the story behind that song you should ask because it is brilliantly devised and fascinating psychological portrait of an addict.

I had to stay another night to appear as the guest in the cork singers circle -which I really enjoyed by the way- but the lads collected my sister and cousin in Cork city and drove up to Dublin that day. They had session around the Harmonium in the back of the camper van all the way to Dublin. Good craic heh!

The controversy in Cobh

Just before the Famine an incident culminated in the town of Cobh which captured the attention of the population of the surrounding area. In the previous decade the Connery brothers, living the lives of highway men became a local legend as they harassed the local landlords and constabulary of West Waterford and the surrounding counties, and they were finally being sent from Cobh to the penal colony of Botany Bay in New South Wales.

The Connerys had a farm in the foothills of the Comeragh mountains and two of the brothers, Séamus and Seán, earned a supplementary income as foresters on the estates of Holmes, the local landlord. However the two lads were accused of stealing firewood from the estates and were replaced in their post by their accuser, Maurice Hacket. Shortly afterwards they were charged with the attempted murder of Hacket and brought before the district court where they were completely stitched up. Although the witness for the prosecution was jailed for perjury, the eldest Connery, Séamus, was transported to Botany Bay in 1831.

The remaining Connerys began to get increasingly spiteful attention the from the local law officer and by 1835 they were involved in an eviction row. They were sentenced to seven years in Botany Bay, but as they were being transported to Cobh they escaped from custody and took to the hills where they lived a Dick Turpin style existence for nine months. They were caught again in Waterford while looking for passage to America and escaped once again from the towns goal. This time they made good their chances and from their base in the Comeragh mountains trormented the authorities for two years. They were caught again at this stage and sent from Cobh to New South Wales in March 1838.

The song "Na Connerys" contains all the admiration the people had for the Connerys. It doesn't have the defeated air you get in many post-famine songs but is strong and proud. The songs opening line, "Malicious Cummeen [the false witness] I pray you hardship and the curse of Christ" says it all. It has a defiant and hopeful air which shows the admiration the people had for the Connerys and their reluctance to accept their lot. But it is turned inside out in the last line with the stark realisation that the Connerys fate –transportation to the far side of the globe- is final and tragically irreversible.

The title is a song sung in Connemara. -what it'sabout I don't know. Anyway a nice bloke called Mícheál, who does a blog on Irish this and that http://nf.skr.jp/mt/2008/02/lorcan.html  which he also translates into Japanese though the old album was so nice he said:

Thanks to Barra ó Seaghdha for taking the time to listen to the CD and give his opinion. I think it will age well.

Lorcán Mac Mathúna

Rógaire Dubh

In the short time I have had Lorcán Mac Mathúna's CD in my possession, my feelings towards it have already gone through a number of phases. As they may shift again. What follows may be more an update on a process than a summing-up. The jam is still bubbling in the pot and is not yet ready to set.

Two things leapt out at me on first hearing –that the emphasis is on the songs themselves and that the singer is taken with some of the big songs of Munster and Connemara. That those songs included some of my personal favourites – 'An Clár Bog Déil', 'Cath Chéim an Fhia', 'Amhrán na Leabhar' and the ever-strange 'Tuireamh Mhic Finín Duibh' – was an added attraction. That the first song was a catchily rhythmic one, 'Na Táilliúirí', showed that Mac Mathúna was not confined to the tragic note, which can become monotonous in even the best singer.

Following this 'Johhny Seoighe' creats a startling contrast. This song of the Famine period is addressed in bitter supplication to a Mister Joyce, reputedly a Relieving Officer. The language of vision and enchantment –'Más tú an réalt eolais…' ('If you are the guiding star…') – that might ordinarily be addressed to a beloved or a spear-bhean is drenched in acid and applied to an authority figure from whome nothing can be expected. Mac Mathúna rises fully to the challenge, delivering a gripping, full-voiced rendition. I am not sure that any other song quite reaches the same height and this may account for the mixed feelings with which I have found myself greeting some of the other songs on the CD.

Not having being present at the recording, I can only speculate as to the reason. It must be said that this is not one of those recordings in which all character is removed from the song by a production (or commercial imperative) that values only sweetnes or that reduces the elasticity of sean-nós to a bland regularity that suits the accompanying band

Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh's fiddle of Jane Hughes' cello do not impose themselves on the songs, instead, they pick up on the feeling of the song and work – often with sensitivity and imagination, sometimes eerily, occasionally with a little too much artiness – around the singing. Studio recordings of sean-nós sometimes lack the dimension of connectedness to an understanding audience that powers the singer in a more domestic setting. (And some singers manage better than others to convey the large-scale concert setting.) I can't help feeling that, though the whole experience of making this CD was a happy and creative one, at some level Mac Mathúna was singing slightly below room temperature, as it were, or else adjusting a little too much – perhaps not even consciously – to his accompanists. There is fine singing throughout, but, somehow, 'Amhrán na Leabhar' deosn't quite hit the pitch of anguish required, or some of the energy seems to leak from the song in the lower, quieter notes at the end of the verse.

I will be listening to this CD again, and perhaps changing my mind about this song or that, and I am certainly looking forward to hearing Lorcán Mac Mathúna again, singing with all the unwavering commitment of his best work.

This is what The Living Tradition thought of my album. nice eh!

Lorcán Mac Mathúna

Rógaire Dubh

Cork-born Lorcán is a passionate young sean-nós singer with a confident and commanding, though sensible, measured style which emphasises the musical quality of the song in an often innovative way while demonstrating both a respect for and understanding of the texts. Sean-nós singing can be a bit of an acquired taste, I'll admit, but Lorcán's strongly individual presentation is both intense and involving without being austere or intimidating: deliberate: yes but involved rather than soporific. There's both intimacy and an understated sensuousness in his response (a combination which I've noted in the singing of Dónal Maguire), and on some of the songs there's also an approach to decoration that rather resembled that of Robin Williamson.

Unusually for a singer perhaps, Lorcán admits that he has often fallen for the music of a song and the sound of its phrases before he understood anything else about it. The drone of a hardangeror fiddle( Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh), cello (Jane Hughes), or pipes (Mick O'Brien), at once pictorial and timeless, gives a pictorial aspect to the musical expression almost before the meaning of the words at times. Other musicians play harp, whistle and bodhrán but each individual song is sparse in texture and two of the key songs are performed "undressed with accompaniment" as Lorcán aptly describes it. There's a weird sensation caused by Lorcán's double-tracking some passages from the text of the eerie 18^th century elegy Tuireamh Mhic Finín Dhuibh, only accentuatin the sheer other-worldly nature of its melody line, which is at once epic and highly disorientating. A bit like the parallel-chanting of Tibetan monks, perhaps, but it sounds truly extraordinary.

Finally, the whole CD ends most delightfully when the subtly mellow song Bean Dubh an Ghleanna glides almost effortlessly into an uplifting and gently sparkling Merry-Band-Like plathrough of the reel Kiss The Maid Behind The Barrel. Sure enough, there's sometimes stridency in Lorcán's delivery, and it probably won't help that a significant majority of the disc's tracks are performed at a similar (slowish) pace, but personally I've found this one of the most captivating discs of sean-nós singing I've encountered in recent years.

David Kidman

Bean Dubh an Ghleanna

Versions of Bean Dubh an Ghleanna (sometimes called Mol Dubh) have been collected in many parts of Gealic speaking ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Ireland, North, West, and South. Versions of it are found in Poets and Poetry of Munster, in Freeman (vol 2), in Londubh an Chairn, and in De hÍde's Amhráin Grádha Chúige Chonnacht

The version sung on the album "Rógaire Dubh" is the one associated with the Déise (the ancient Irish name for the area south of the Commeragh and Knock Maol-Donn mountains) repertoire. It was popularised by the Tóibíns and other great singers of Rinn O gCúnnach. Séamus Ennis sang it frequently and both he and Willie Clancy played it masterfully on the Uilleann Pipes.

Played or sung it is a plendid lyrical and challenging piece, one of the finest songs/airs in the Irish traditional repertoire.

In the Cúl Aodha/Baile Mhuirne Gaeltacht they have a local version of the Bean Dubh, and again it is a wonderful song. With a bit of luck, on a good nights singing, you might hear the two versions and have rogha na mBan Dubh.

Amhrán na Leabhar

Ba é Tomás Rua Ó Súilleabháin (1785 – 1848) a scríobh an t-amhrán seo. Scoláire agus file iomráitheach ab ea é Tomás Rua agius chaith sé tamall dá shaol ag múineadh ag na scoileanna scairte a bhíodh ann an tráth úd.

T á go leor dá chuid amhráin i mbéal na ndaoine fós i nUibh Ráthachagus Corca Dhuibhne agus ar ndóidh i measc amhránaithe ar fud na hÉireann. Chum sé "A Rí an Domhnaigh, Dónall Binn Ó Chonnail, agus Maidin Bog Álainn chomh maith.

Foilsíoch Amhráin Thomáis Rua Uí Shúilleabháin timpeall tús an 20ú chéid.

Tá an amhrán seo faoi eactra atharla fad is a bhí Tomás ag aidstriú tighe cónaithe ó Dhoire Fhionáin go Port Mhih Aoidh. Bhií cnuasacht de leabhra agus lámhscríobhinní luachmhara aige, a raibha shaol caite aige á mbailliú. Agus bhí sé á thabhairt trasna an chuain i mbád nuair a tharla tubaiste don mbád agus chuaigh an t-ualach go tóin poill. Chaill Tomás a raibh ar an saol aige ach bé cailliúnt na leabhar an rud is mó a ghoill dó. I bhéarsa nach bhfuill ar an taifead seo dúirt sé

            Dá siúlfainn Éire is Alba

            An fhrainc an Spáinn is Sasana

            Agus fós arís dá n-abarainn

            Gach árd fén rae

            Ní bhfaighainn-se an iomar leabhartha

            B'fhearr eolais agus tairbhe

Ná is mó bhí chun mo mhaitheasa

Cé táid ar strae

Saileog Rua

There are two versions of this song in Amhrán Mhuighe Seola, a six verse version titled Sail Óg Rua, which has a tune fairly similar to the one used on this recording, and another titled Oileán Eadaigh, which has a different air but has mostly the same words.

Both of these are included in the book Cuisle an Cheoilpublished by Oifig an tSoláthair in 1976

Mícheál Ó Tiománaidhe had a 32 line version, without music, published in his 1906 Ghaeilge an Iarthair.

His story of the song suggested that Saileog had been taken by the fairies (the slua sídhe). Perhaps the most convincing –though still very unusual- story is given by Tomás Ó Coinceannanais in Nua Dhuanaire cuid a trí, published in 1978 by Institúid Ardléinn Bhaile Átha Cliath. He gives a reference to a manuscript in Roinn Bhéaloideas Éireann in UCD, which suggests that the song was written by one John McHugh of Islandeady, Co. Mayo. It was put that this John McHugh was the husband of Saileog Rua and had been tried and, possibly wrongfully, found guilty of her murder. I recall hearing a story that indicated that Saileog's husband had written the song having killed her and that her two brothers who had come in the night to exact vengeance for their sister's death, were convinced of his genuine grief and innocence having heard this song and let him go unharmed. -Truth and fiction sometimes mingle.

Both Josie Séan Jack and Darach Ó Catháin recorded similar versions to the one on this CD

An Clár Bog Déil

This fine song, with its intriguing and splendid melody, was widely sung in Munster in the early decades of the 19^th century. The reference in ODaly's Poets and Poetryt of Munster states that the original version of An Clár Bog Déil is better known as Caiseal Mumhan. It suggests further that the song was originally written by an Augustinian friar, the Reverend William English of Newcastle West, Co. Limerick who previous to his taking the Augustinian habit had produced many striking and beautiful songs in his native tongue.

The dual title to the song is understood when you hear the third and fourth lines of the first verse:

            Sé mo ghalar dubhach gan mé gust ú, a ghrá mo chléibhe

            i gCaiseal Mumhan, is gan de leaba fúinn ach an clár bog Déil.

Again, as is the case with several of these old songs there is a Connaught version with somewhat different words and melody. Seán Ac' Donnachadh used to sing it occasionally.

Cath Chéim an Fhia

Throughout the later stages of the 18^th and early decades of the 19^th century there was widespread agrarian resentment arising out of the raising of rents, evictions, and the collection of tithes. The tithes were a particularly galling imposition, involving the payment of one tenth of a farmers stock or possessions for the support of the alien (protestant) church.

In Uibh Laoighre resentment against the tithes had been increasing until finally in the winter of 1821-2 the White Boys started gathering arms for a confrontation

Ba í Máire Bhuí Ní Laoighre (1774 – 1847) a scríobh an t-amhrán seo. Rugadh í i dTuirínna Néan, i nUibh Laoighre, cúig mile siar ó dheas ó Maigh Chromtha. Iníon Feirmeora ab ea í agus chaith sé a saolle feirmeoireacht. Phós sí agus thóg sí féin agus a fear naonar clainne. Bean mhisniúil cróga ab ea í. Bhí bua na filíochta aici agus ba nós leí dánta agus anhráin a chumadh ag cuir síos ar na éagóir agus an leatrom a bhí á imirt ag na tighearnaí talún ar phobal tuaithe an tire.

Tharla Cath Chéim an Fhia san bhlian 1822. Ag an am sin bhí teanas agus achrain ar fud na tire idir tighearnaí talon agus tionóntaithe faoi cheist na 'deachtaithe' a bhí á éileamh chun an Eaglais Gallda a chothú

I nUibh Laoighre is cosúil go raibh cuid des na tionóntaithe á n-eagrú mar bhuachaillí Bána, nó b'shin an scéal a bhí ag gabháil timpeall. Pé scéal é, deagraig na tighearnaí talon buíon giománach, chun ionradh creiche a dhéanamh sa cheantar timpeall Chéim an Fhia agus Túirín na nÉan,

Bhí slua mór tionóntaithe cruinnithe i luíochán ag feitheamh leo i gceantar creagach, sléibhteach agus thosaigh said ag caitheamh leis na giománach le pé gunnaí a bhí acu. Bainneadh slad as na giomanaig, mar ní raibh said ag tnú ach le pící agus spealanna, ach anois bhí said á mbascadh le piléir agus le carraigreacha. Do lean an chaismirt ar aghaidh ar feadh scaithimh ach ní raibh na yeomen in ann aon dul ar aghaidh a dhéanamh. I ndeireadh na dála bhí orthu bailiú leo as an láthair. Ní cath ró mhór a bhí i gceist. Níor maraíodh ach dornán daoine, agus b'éigin do roint dos na tionóntaithe dul ar a dteicheadh. Ach do bhain Máire Bhuí an –sásamh, mar a léiríonn sí san amhrán. De réir mar a dúirt Máire Bhuí 'níor dhíol (na Tionóntaithe) as ar dtóir,' agus deirtear gur cheadaigh an rialtais ísliú, agus i ndeireadh na dála, cealú ar fad orthú.

Ar na hamhrán a scríobh Máire tá sé nó seacht i mbéal an phobail fós céad agus trí scór bliana i ndiadh a báis – Cath Chéim an Fhia, A Mháire Ní Laoighre, Fáinne an Lae, Na Bearta Cruadha, Seo Leo a THoil, A Bhurcach Óig ón gCéim, agus Maidin Álainn Ghréinne

Bhí sár-amhránaí i gCúil Aodha, Pádraig Ó Tuama, nó Paití Thaidhg Pheig. File ab ea é, scoláire, agus seanachaí. Do chasadh sé Cath Chéim an Fhia le fuinneamh agus le mothú.

Notes on Songs

Johnny Seoighe

Johnny seoighe is amongst a unique group of songs that were actually written during the Irish famine (although whether it was a natural famine or a callous attempt of ethnic cleansing is a question that is debated by many serious historians) by somebody who suffered the through that period of starvation and official neglect and destitution. It is amazing that its starving author could actually compose considering his predicament. I'm sure that when you are inches away from starving to death that writing songs would usually be the last thing on your mind. It has often been remarked that the famine was marked by a deathly silence in the country. Not an animal or human voice was to be heard and the roads were chocked with the wraith like figures of the destitute who were too weak to move or talk.