Description

NOW OUT OF STOCK

(but soon available as mp3 downloads)

 

[Yellow Flower] Irish Folk/Gaelic

1. Is Measa Liom Bródach [I Prefer Bródach]/ Na Ceannabháin Bhána [The White Bog Cotton]
2. Gaoth Barra na dTonn [Gweebarra of the Waves]
3. Lúb na bhFáinní Óir [The Girl with the Ringlets of Gold]
4. Iníon an Fhaoit’ ón nGleann [White’s Daughter of the Glen]
5. Cailleach an Airgid [The Hag with the Money]
6. Deoíndí [untranslatable]
7. An Fan Dú a-Daddium [untranslatable]
8. An Crann Úll [The Apple Tree]
9. Bríd Bhéasach [Lady-like Breege]
10. Ainnir Dheas na gCiabhfholt Donn [ The Nice Maiden with the Flowing Brown Locks]
11. Bó na Leath-Adhairce [ The Cow with One Horn]
12. Turas go Tír na nÓg [Trip to the Land of Eternal Youth]

Bláth Buí [Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh] Errigal SCD004 [1992]

 

“Bláth Buí” (Yellow Flower)

 

 

Is Measa Liom Bródach

(I Prefer Bródach)

Na Ceannabháin Bhána

(The White Bog Cotton)

 

In the west of Ireland traditional dance-tunes in jig-time sometimes have words sung to them. The words usually don’t mean very much but love is nearly always the theme. The first one here is in double-jig time [6/8] and the second sort of slips into slip-jig [9/8]. The whole piece opens with a jig – it’s a feast of jigs – from the great Donegal maestro, John Doherty, called, appropriately, Doherty’s Jig! It’s sometimes called Arthur Darley’s.

This track turned out to be a showpiece for Damien and Brian, bodhráns and whistles having nearly all work to do.

 

 

 

Gaoth Barra na dTonn

(Gweebarra of the Waves)

 

A picture in words and music of one of the most stunningly beautiful sights in Ireland: Gweebarra Bay, Co. Donegal, which is situated on the coast between Glenties and Dungloe. Bees humming, cattle lowing, sea-birds calling, the sounds of water, the wind in the trees, the crash of waves on the shore, all inspired the poet Dónall MacDiarmuda to write this little masterpiece. The poet says in the last verse that rather than go to heaven when he dies he wishes that his soul could float down past the old thorn bush that overlooks the bay. Dónall lived to be well over 100.  I hope his wish came true.

 

 

Lúb na bhFáinní Óir

(Girl with the Ringlets of Gold)

 

A song in the unusual time of ¹²/₈.  It tells of a beggar who drowns his sorrows in drink.

He is love-sick and rejected.  He says that if Mary doesn’t marry him his lodgings will be in the cold grave.  But she scorns him and tells him to find another woman – on whom he could tie back-packs and who could stand at every house begging.  After playing a coin-trick on the tavern owner for more drink he staggers off into the night.  The music has a strange nocturnal feel to it, I think.

 

 

Iníon an Fhaoit’ ón nGleann

(White’s Daughter of the Glen)

 

A passionate outburst from a young man who calls on his loved-one to come walking with him in the short summer night…down to the harbour.  Listen to some music… see the sights.  His heart aches with such unfulfilled longing.  All he wants is to be with her in Thurles in the County Tipperary to drink a pint with her…to whisper sweet nothings in her ear…to place his hand beneath her head…

 

If only they could be out on some mountains slope on a fine sunny day, sitting on a rock…the blackbird and the thrush singing above their heads…Then he would write a poem for her praising her merits one by one…

 

 

 

 

 

Cailleach an Airgid

(The Hag with the Money)

 

There’s a lot of raw energy in this short Conemara song.  The music, as in “Is Measa Liom Bródach”, is a double-jig.

 

“She is your grandmother, the hag with the money.

Do you think she will marry?  I think she will not.

He is too young and he’d drink all the money.

But there’s two who will marry:

Big Séan Séamus and Mary Casey”.

 

Deoíndí

(untranslatable)

 

A curious child-like song from Galway. The lines

 

Nach iomaí cor is cleas ‘do chroí nach bhfuair mé amach

[Many’s a labyrinth in your heart]

 

suggested a musical labyrinth, so another tune was added. In the middle, an old air called Fead an Iolair [The Eagle’s Whistle] is played on the guitar with Brian’s superb tin-whistle spiralling around it.

 

My love is so nice that I cannot escape it

My love is as perfect as a glass in an alehouse

My love is as heavy as a stone in a ditch –

Isn’t your heart such a curious labyrinth?

Nettles and yellow flowers grow where my house used to be

 

 

 

An Fan Dú a Daddium

(untranslatable) Music:  S Ó Dochartaigh

 

There’s a story by the Donegal writer Séamus Ó Grianna (or “Máire”) in his book “ Ó Neamh go hÁrainn”, which deals with this song.  It describes a particular dance, now I believed lost, which the people of Rannafast used to do after the day’s work was over at harvest time:  the grass has been scythed, the turf won…now out with the naggings, the poitín and the pipes and bring on the dancing girls!  There were other delights too… in the wee hours of the morning…down among the sand-dunes… ach fágfaimid siúd mar atá sé!

 

The tune traditionally associated with these words didn’t appeal to me very much so I used a chord sequence which harmonized with the traditional reel “The Yellow Tinker”, to provide me with a new one:

 

G d G b F   G d F a  G e C D  e C F A

G e C D       e b C D

 

An Crann Úll

(The Apple Tree)

 

Many years ago, in a marathon music session in the house of Clannad, Dore, Co Donegal,  Ciarán Ó Braonáin and myself went through virtually what was then my whole repertoire of Gaelic songs.  Three of these went on to a Clannad album shortly afterwards, including this one, “An Crann Úll”.

 

The folksong collector Séamus Clandillon heard this particular song at the turn of the century from a group of women who happened to be mending nets in a garden near Bunbeg, Gweedore.  In the song, three girls sit under the tree talking about the kind of men they would like to marry; one a blacksmith, one a farmer and the third a fisherman.  Above them in the tree, sitting on the branches, the birds whisper a chorus:

 

When you move, I’ll move,

And we’ll all move together –

Beautiful, pleasant, little branch!

 

Bríd Bhéasach

(Lady-like Breege)

 

A song from the Gaeltacht of Gweedore. Despite the levity in the music the words are rather sad. A young woman is expressing her disappointment in marriage. She longs to be single again, like lady-like Breege, who will be 101 on her next birthday!

My woe and my pity that water can’t be wine,

That the roots of rushes can’t be flour bread,

That the tops of watercress can’t be bright candles

– Because my love he changes just like that.

Curse on marriage, it’s such a bad doing;

Bright at first then dark again.

Many’s a fair maid it left defeated,

Her head on her knees, her tears a-flowing.

 

Bó na Leath-Adhairce

(The Cow with One Horn)

 

Undoubtedly, the zaniest Gaelic song I have ever heard. The jig played at the beginning, and throughout, is one I heard from the fiddling of John Kelly of West Clare. He called it Patsy Geary’s. The repeated notes at the opening of the jig made an easy transition into the song – the song’s chorus has repeated notes too.

 

The one-horned cow ambles lazily along the shore. She’s being looked-after by Dermot O’ Dylan. But she strays…

 

Not too many songs about one-horned cows, but I did hear once that this song was all about poteen-making and that the one-horned cow was really a still!

 

 

Turas go Tír na nÓg

(Journey to the Land of Eternal Youth)

 

The air of this song is traditional but the words were written by a poet called “Conall Ceárnach”, whose real name was Feardorcha Ó Conaill.  “Turas go Tír nÓg” tells of the start of Oisín’s famous journey to the land of eternal youth.  The wind is stirring… the birds are going down to rest…darkness falls…there is a bleating of lambs from the russet hillside and the sound of water trickling in the current along the shore.

 

His soul is lonely, the night long…his spirit wishes to rise with the sun and escape from the troubles of the world…A voice beckons him away and on a gentle breeze, he sails off, on hoisted sail, to Tír na nÓg – the land of light and poetry and friendship.

 

TEXTS OF THE SONGS

Is Measa Liom Bródach/Na Ceannabháin Bhána

Je préfére Bródach /Ich mag Bródach lieber

Cocon blanc des marais/Weisses Wollgras

 

Is measa liom Bródch Uí Ghaothra,

Is measa liom Bródch Uí Ghaothra,

Is measa liom Bródch Uí Ghaothra,

Ná Bródach a’ Ghabha ‘gCaladh Mhuighinse.

 

(curfá)

Is ó goirm, goirm í an Bhódach

Is ó goirm, goirm í an Bhódach

Is ó goirm, goirm í an Bhódach

Is mairg bheadh meantain dhá tógáil.

 

Tá siosúirín cruach ag an Bhródach,

Tá siosúirín cruach ag an Bhródach,

Tá siosúirín cruach ag an Bhródach,

Is bhearradh sí caoire Dhúiche Sheoigheach.

 

Gadaí bhí in athair na Bródaí

Gadaí bhí in athair na Bródaí

Gadaí bhí in athair na Bródaí

Is ghearradh sé eangachaí is rópaí.

 

Má d’fhága mo Bhródach sa trá é,

Má d’fhága mo Bhródach sa trá é,

Má d’fhága mo Bhródach sa trá é,

Ag Sean-Tomás Cheaite atá sé.

 

 

Goirm péin, goirm péin, goirm péin,

Goirm péin Micil is Máire,

Goirm péin, goirm péin, goirm péin,

Siúd iad na ceannabháin bhána

 

Cuirfidh mé, cuirfidh mé, cuirfidh mé,

Cuifidh mé suas ag Saidhbh Sheáin thú,

Cuirfidh mé, cuirfidh mé, cuirfidh mé,

Is cuirfidh sí buairthrín sa ghleann ort.

 

 

Gaoth Barra na dTonn

(Gweebara des vagues/Gweebara über dem Meer)

 

 

Tá gealach na gcoinleach ag  éirí sa speir

Is grian bhuí an Fhómhair a’ tumadh sa weir,

Tá na beach’ óga ‘drandán sa tsean-duilliúr donn

Fa Ghaoth Barra na gCoillte, Gaoth Barra na dTonn

 

Tá na ba óga ‘geimní ‘nuas mallaí Chroith-Shlí,

Sna caoirigh ag meidhlí le druideadh na hoích’,

Tá gealgháir na gruthán fo na screaga anon,

Fa Ghaoth Barra na gCoillte, Gaoth Barra na dTonn.

 

Ina sruth uisce cheolmhar tá na bradáin a’ sceith

‘S thart fan a himill tá an fhuiseag a’ breith,

Tig na héanlaith ‘na scaoth ann, an druideog is an lonn

Mar tá dídean gan doicheall fá Ghaoth Barra na dTonn

 

Is guímse Pádraig agus Naomh Conall Caol

Nach n-iaraim aon Fhlaitheas i ndeireadh mo shaoil

Ach m’anam ‘bheith ‘seoladh fán sean-draigheán donn

Tá fás fá do chladaí, a Ghaoth Barra na dTonn.

 

Lúb na bhFáinní Óir

(La Fille auxcheveux de Lin/Das Mädchen mit dem Ringlein aus Gold)

 

Tá cailín óg ar m’eolas is taitníonn sí go mór liom

Is tá a fhios ag Rí na Glóire gur bhreoigh sí mo chroí,

`Sí lúb na bhfáinní óir í gur thugas gean go hóg dí

Is mura dtiocfaidh sí is mé a phósadh `sé mo

lóistín an chill.

 

(Chorus)

Tá row-dal ow-dal éró tiedal eidal éró

Tá row-dal ow-dal éró recs fal dí dí

`Sí lúb na bhfáinní óir í gur thugas gean go hóg di

Is mura dtiocfaidh sí is mé a phósadh `sé mo

lóistín an chill.

 

“A Mháire, ná bí id’ oinseach ach gabh go ciúin an bóthar

N’fheadar mé den tseort thú nó an posta do bhís,

Ach thabharfainn féin na móide gur maighdean ar siúl fós thú

Is mura dtiocfaidh tú is mé a phósadh `sé mo lóistin an chill.”

 

“A Bhacaigh bhuí na liege, lig dod ráite béil liom,

Faighse bean duit féineach a chéillfidh dod`shlí;

Cuir dhá mhála is téad uirthi anuas ar cheann a chéile,

Seasamh fada réidh léi ag doras gach aon tí.”

 

Do chuireas mo lámh im’ phóca ní raibh agam ach feoirling,

Thugas do bhean an ósta é mar chunamh chun na dí,

Chuir sí ina póca é ach shíl sí gur ghiní óir é.

Bhogas féin an bóthar `s nach treórach a d’imíos!

 

 

Iníon an Fhaoit’ón nGleann

 

(La Fille de White de la vallée/White’s Tochter aus der Schlucht)

 

Siúil, a chuid, bí ag gluaiseacht gan scíth gan stad gan fuaradh,

Tá an oíche ghairid shamhraidh ann is beam araon a’ siúl.

Mar a bhfaigh’ muid radharc ar chuanta, ceol, aoibhness, bailte móra,

Is a Dhia, nach ró-bhreá an uain í, Iníon an Fhaoit’ ón nGleann.

 

Táim-se lán de náire trí gach beart dá ndearrna,

Mar is buachaill bocht a crádh mé póg `gus d’imigh uaim mo ghreann

Ní beo mí ná ráithe mara bhfaighe mé póg `gus grá uait,

Agus fáilte chaoin ó d’ chairde, a `níon on Fhaoit’ on nGleann.

 

Níl aon chailín spéiriúil nach ngluaisfeadh seal liom féinig

Tríd Na Gleannta Méithe `s thar Ard na Sléibhte ó thuaidh.

Dá mbeimis i gceann a chéile ag ól i nDúrlas Éile,

Mo lámh faoi cheann mo chéad-searc do bhréagfainn í chun suain.

 

 

Dá mbéinnse lá breá gréine im shuí ar bhinn a’ tsle’ `muigh

Mar`bheadh a’ londubh is an chéirseach ag seinm os ár gcionn;

Is deas do scríobhfainn véarsaí `s níos deise ná mar a labhairfinn

Stair ad’ mholadh féinig, a `níon an Fhaoit’ on nGleann.

 

Cailleach an Airgid

(La sorciéew avec L’argent/Die Alte mit dem Geld)

 

(Curfá)

`Sí do Mhaimeo í, `Sí do Mhaimeo í

`Sí do Mhaimeo í, Cailleach an Airgid

`Sí do Mhaimeo í ó Bhaile Ionais Mhóir í

Is chuirfeadh sí cóistí ar bhóithre Chois Fharraige.

 

Dá bhfeicfeá-sa an “steam” ‘ghabháil siar Tóin Uí Loing’

`s na rothaí ghabháil timpeall siar ó na ceathrúnaí,

Chaithfeadh sí an stiúir naoi n-uaire ar a cúl,

Is ní choinneodh sí siúl le Cailleach an Airgid.

 

Measann tú `bpósfa, measann tú `bpósfa,

Measann tú `bpósfa, Cailleach an Airgid?

Tá a fhios a`m nach bpósfa, tá a fhios a`m nach bpósfa,

Mar tá sé ró-óg is d’ólfadh sé an t-airgead.

 

Tá beirt `ghabháil a phósa, tá beirt `ghabháil a phósa,

Tá beirt `ghabháil a phósa, beirt ar an bhaile seo,

Tá beirt `ghabháil a phósa, beirt ghabháil a phósa,

`Síad Seán Shéamuis Mhóir is Máire Ní Chathasaigh.

 

 

Deoindí

(imposible to traduire/nicht zu űbersetzen)

 

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Is tá mo ghrá chomh deas

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Nach bhféadaim éirí as

Is Deoindí ó díó deighdil lum.

 

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Is tá mo ghrá chomh deas

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Le gloime i dteach an óil

Is Deoindí ó díó deighdil lum.

 

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Is tá mo chroí chomh trom

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Le cloch a chaithfí i dtom

Is Deoindí ó díó deighdil lum

 

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Nach iomaí cor is cleas

`Do chroí nach bhfuair mé `mach

Is Deoindí ó díó deighdil lum

 

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Neantóga is bláth buí

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Tá fás ar áit mo thí

Is Deoindí ó díó deighdil lum

 

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Murach an droch-shaol

Deoindí ó deighdil lum

Bheadh mo mhuintir cruinn

Is Deoindí ó díó deighdil lum

 

An Fan Dú a Daddium

(imposible to traduire/nicht zu űbersetzen)

 

Bhí mé lá breá samhraidh i dtoigh Eoghainín ag spealadóireacht,

Bhí cailíní as Loch Gamhna ag tógáil is ag ceangail domh.

D’oibir muid ar ndóighe ar fónamh don tseanduine

`Gus chríochnaigh muid tráthnóna leis an Fan Dú a Daddium.

Chuaigh mé go Trágh Áine is mo léine `na bratógaí,

Bhí buachaillí Chol Shéim anm `s iad gléasta go galánta,

Bhí Tuathal Shéamais Andaí agus geansaí agus  “leggins” air,

Ach mise `bhí le Neansaí is a Fan Dú a Daddium.

 

Dá mbeinnse ar Oileán Andaí is an bhantracht a bheith fairsing ann,

Bun a bheith ar an aimsir `s mé ransail fan aicíocht,

Conchubhor Phadaí Neansaí `bheith’ landail lena naigíní,

`S na cailíní a’ bhlandair leis an Fan Dú a Daddium.

Bhí mé ar an Chraoslach `s gan líonadh tobac agam

Ná a dhath le cur sa phíop’ach an gríodán nárbh aite liom

Gur éalaigh mé san oíche le níon Shúisí Phaide Bháin

`S gan agam ach a dhá phingin is a Fan Dú a Daddium.

 

Dhearg mé dhúdóg `s bhí tútán gan bhlas agam;

Thoisigh sise ag smúrthacht `s ní cumhra `bhí san deatach sin;

D’fhiafraigh sí domhsa cér as a `tobac sin

Ach bhris mé an scéal go hádhúil leis an Fan Dú a Daddium.

Dia go dtugáí grásta don táilliúir `bhí ealaionta-

Condaí Pheigí Báine, `níodh, “drawers” do na cailíní

Bhíodh mióg insan bhásta `s ba shásta a ghléas ceangail é

Don fhear a ghabháil ‘un spairn leis an Fan Dú a Daddium.

 

Dá mbínn `mo luí go híseal is an bás a bheith in aice liom

Go n-éireoinn aríst chuig an Fan Dú a Daddium,

Bidí Shéamais Andaí sa tseomra a’ tabhairt “brandy” domh,

Is mar sin a rachadh an greann is a ‘Fan Dú a Daddium.

 

An Crann Úll

(Le Pommier/Der Apfelbaum)

 

Ó tá crann úll i gcoirnéal a’ ghairdín

Is súifimid síos nó go gcuire siad an fál air,

Ar eagla go dtitfeadh a’ bunadh óg i ngrá leis.

 

(Curfá)

Nuair a bhogfas tusa bogfaidh mise

Is bhogfas muid le chéile,

Is a chraoibhín aoibhinn álainn ó.

 

Ó b’fhearr liom-sa an gabha `tá ag obair sa cheartan,

Ag buaileadh an oird go lúfair is go ládir,

A shaothrú na scilling is a d’ófadh i dtoigh a’ tábhairne í.

 

Ó b’fhearr liom-sa an feirmeoir `tá seoladh amach go haerach

Maidin deas san earrach le seisreach agus péire,

Ag cromadh ar an oibir `s ag tionntú na créafóig’.

 

Ó b’fhearr liom-sa an t-iascaire amuigh ina bháidín

Ag cur a chuid eangach is ag breith ar na bradáin,

Ag troid leis na tonnta ó oíche go maidin.

 

Bríd Bhéasach

(La gentile Breda/Die damenhafte Breda)

 

(curfá)

Mo chreach `s mo chrá mór nach fíon an t-uisce,

Nach arán plúir bun na ngiolcach;

`s nach coinnle geala barr an bhiolair,

Mar bíos mo ghra-sa ag teacht a’s ag imeacht.

 

Pleoid ar a `Phósadh is mairig a níos é;

Is geal ar tús `gus is dubh aríst é .

Is iomaí maighdean deas óg a chloigh sé,

A ceann ar a glúinibh `s a’ súile a’ síorghol.

 

`Sé dúirt Bríd bhocht is í breá críonna:

“Céad is bliain mé ag tús na míosa,

Ag siúl fá bhóithre a’s ar fud na tíre;

Ó tá mé díomhaoin a’s beidh a choíche”

 

(curfá)

Mo chreach `s mo chrá mór nach fíon an t-uisce,

Nach arán plúir bun na ngiolcach;

`s nach coinnle geala barr an bhiolair,

Mar bíos mo ghra-sa ag teacht a’s ag imeacht.

 

Bó na Leath-Adhairce

(La vache á une corne/Die Kuh mit einem Horn)

 

Thíos cois na toinne sea beathaíodh mo chaora

Ag Diarmuid Ó Dioláin ó Bharra na hAoine;

Mac dearthar athar domh `chuir le fáil í,

Easpa tobac a bhí ar an chladhaire.

 

(curfá)

Bó, bó, bó na leath-adhairce,

Bó, bó, sí an tseana-chaor adharcach

Bó, bó, bó na leath-adhairce,

Bó dhroimfhionn dhearg `s ní fheadar cá bhfaighead í.

 

B’fhearr liom ná scilling go bhfeicfinn mo chaora

Teacht go dtí an doras ar maídin nó istoíche;

Thálfadh sí bainne orm, bheathódh sí uan domh,

Chuirfeadh sí “jacketeen” deas ar mo ghualainn.

 

Dá mbéinn-se i rachmas i ngradam nó i n-oidhreacht

Thabharfainn-se gíní ar chúpla sladhas dí-

Ó nár dheas í, ó nár mheidhreach!

Ó nár dheas í, an tseana-chaor adharcach.

 

(curfá)

Bó, bó, bó na leath-adhairce,

Bó, bó, sí an tseana-chaor adharcach

Bó, bó, bó na leath-adhairce,

Bó dhroimfhionn dhearg `s ní fheadar cá bhfaighead í.

 

Turas go Tír na nÓg

(Voyage au pays de la jeunesse éternelle)

Reise ins Land der ewigen Jugend

 

Tá gaoth na tíre ag séideadh `s tá na heanlaith `dhul chun suain;

Tá an dubhar a’ dhul chun síneadh ar an bhán,

Ó éadán ruaidh a’tsléibhe tagann méileachán na n-uan,

Agus fuaim na caise ag caoineadh ar an trágh.

Tá uaigneas ar m’anam `s is fada liom an oíche,

Ba mhian lem’ spiorad gluaiseacht leis an ghréin

Ón bhuairt seo tá ar m’ aigne is ó chealg rún an tsaoil

Go tír a bhfaighinnse fuascailt ar mo phéin.

 

Agus glaoitear orm aniar `s is aoibhinn liom an glór

Mar bheadh leoithe chaoin ag cogar thar an chuan,

Is raghad-sa chun mo loinge, nó go scaoilfidh mé mo sheol

Is go ndeonaítear mo shroicheadh slán anonn!

Ní tír go n-iomad soilse, ná laoithe liom abfhearr

Ach tír bheith lán de charthannacht im’ chóir

Mar a maireann féile croíthe idir saoithe Inse Fáil,

Is ann atá mo thriall – go Tír na nÒg!

 

Das Album “Gelbe Blume”

 

Vereint musikalische Stilrichtungen verschiedenster Art.  Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh Ó und Marie Askin, beide aus Irlands nordwestlichsten County Donegal fühlen sich in klassischer und traditioneller Musik gleichermassen zu Hause und finden in den Kildare Musikern Damien Quinn, Brian Hughes, Joe Cox ausgezeichiete Unterstützung.

 

Hier findet ein musikalisches Fest zu Ehren der abgelegenen, felsigen Landschaften statt, deren Schönheit der Gewalt des Meeres oft schonungslos ausgesetzt ist:die Gaeltachts – die Regionen in denen Irisch gesprochen wird – gehören in diese Landschaft und zu ihr die unvergleichbaren Menschen, die den Abend gern nit dem Fan Dú a Daddium beschliessen!

 

 

“Bláth Buí”

Tá go leor leor stíleanna ceoil ar an cheirnín seo “Bláth Buí”.  Ceoltóirí Conallacha Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh agus Marie Askin atá anseo agus is cuma cé acu atá said a ‘seinm, ceol traidisiúnta nó ceol clasaiceach, baineann said taitneamh as.  Tá an bheirt tágtha le cheile anseo i gcuideachta sár-cheoltóirí as Cill Dara: Damien Quinn, Brian Hughes, Joe Cox.

 

Ceolann Seoirse amhráin as na háiteacha áille iarghúlta creagacha sin atá basctha go minic ag an fharraige mhór – áiteacha a dtugtar “Na Gaeltachtaí” orthu.  Is ceiliúradh é.

 

 

 

 

“LA FLEUR JAUNE” – Cet album de chansons présente une variéte de styles musicaux,  Les musicians du Djonegal, Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh et Marie Askin se sentient bein á l’aise dans le domaine de la musique classique, aussi bien que dans celui de la musique traditionelle.  Ici, ils s’accocient avec des musicians du Kildare, Damien Quinn, Brian Hughes et Joe Cox.

 

Celtalbum est une Célébration de ces lieux rocheux et isolés, balayés par la merqúon appelle les Gaeltachts – les parties de L’Irlande oú l’onparle le Gaélique.  De temps á autre la Soiréc se termine avec la Fan-Dúa-Daddium!

 

All keyboard arrangements by Marie Askin.

Tin whistle arrangements on tracks 6 & 8 by Brian Hughes.

 

All titles trad. arr. S Ó Dochartaigh except tr. 10 : music by Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh.

 

 

Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh, guitar lead vocals, vocal harmonies

Damien Quinn, bodhrán and other percussion instruments

Mari Askin, piano, keyboards

Brian Hughes, tin whistle, uilleann pipes

Joe “Bow” Cox, spoons

 

Production:  Damien Quinn

Engineer:  Fran “The Man” Kelly

Recorded:  MTS Recording studios, Monasterevin, Co Kildare.

Notes on songs:  Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh

Design and layout:  Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh

Cover painting: Seoirse Ó Dochartaigh

 

(1992)