Reul Dòchas nan Rìgh

About a year and a half ago I was approached by the Vancouver Gaelic choir about writing them a new Christmas carol. At first I was a bit dubious about it. After all, I'm a Witch and I wouldn't touch Christmas with someone else's broomstick, but it didn't take long for another thought to occur to me: I sing songs all the time bout being in love with pretty girls and that's not ever going to happen either.

So, I set to the task. I asked myself what about the nativity story was relatable. Royalty? Travel? Extravagant gifts? Yes, to all of these, but most importantly, hope. That's the power I see in that aspect of Christianity and for good or ill, it has entranced mankind for a while.

The Gaelic vision of the nativity includes Saint Bridget, who in some accounts is magically transported from The British Isles to Bethlehem in time to minister to the Virgin Mary. That's a pretty transparent co-opting of the goddess Bridget, of course. Gaels in the time of conversion were unwilling to utter forsake her, so they made her into the foster mother of Christ, which in their culture was the most honored position.

So, I imagined Bridget, Mary, and Joseph - quite a trio - encountering the three Kings: Balthasar, Melchior, and Gaspar. The result was this song. Anyone who wants the sheet music and / or sound file can drop me a message and I'll send it along.

Reul Dòchas nan Rìgh

Reul dòchais dha'n triùir a thàinig bho'n Ear;
toirt naidheachd ro aoibhneach do chlann daoine gu leir.
Togaidh sinn sùil ort thar linntean nar crìdh.
Nach toir thu dhuinn solas, Reul Dòchas nan Rìgh!

A' mhaighdean chiùin shèimh, Brìd gheal ri taobh.
Seann Iosaph, fear-faire do'n leanabh beag naomh.
Nach foiseil an triùir siud san stàbul cho finn
nuair a ràinig triùir eile fo Reul nan Rìgh.

"Chuir sinn ar cùiltean ri caisteal 'us cuirt
'us thog sinn oirnn falbh thar fàsaich air cuairt
a' leantainn na reul ùr a nochd dhuinn san Iar."
Ars a Mhòrachd, Balthasar, mu Reul nan Rìgh.

Thug iad tìodhlac, Mirr, tùis, agus òr.
Agus rinn iad adhradh do mhac Rìgh na Glòir
na laighe sa mhainnsear ann am Bethlehem bhinn
air an oidhche a chunnaic Reul Dòchas nan Rìgh.

The Star of the Hope of Kings

A star of hope to the three who came from the East;
bringing joyful news to all mankind.
We look to you across the centuries in our hearts.
Won't you give us light, The Star of the Hope of Kings!

The soft gentle maiden, Bright Bridget beside her.
Old Joseph, guardian of the little holy child.
How peaceful these three in that distant stable
when three others arrived under the Star of the Kings.

"We set our backs to castle and court
and set off across the desert
following the new star that appeared to us in the West. "
Said His Highness, Balthasar, of the Star of the Kings.

They brought presents, myrrh, frankincense, and gold.
And they worshiped the son of the King of Glory
lying in the manger in sweet Bethlehem
on the night that saw the Star of Hope of Kings.

Project 48: Union Jack Shirt

 The third and final of my flag-themed shirts, the Union Jack. I really got excited about this design when Google revealed to me that I could order fabric from the Union Jack Shop with the Union Jack printed on it for the pocket. Making the DIY maple leaf was challenging enough, thanks!

I've executed this pattern enough times that I don't usually encounter any construction issues anymore. Mishaps, however, still happen. I rarely work with white fabric, so didn't really think about it when I pricked my finger with a pin and drew blood. Oops. I suppose a blood stain is appropriate for any imperial power's flag.

Being color-blocked, it was inevitable that some of the top stitching would be contrasting to the fabric, so I decided to use up some of my left over blue thread that was slightly lighter than the blue fabric. I like the fact that all of the top stitching is visible, rather than just where it crosses a white area.

I also completed the project from cutting to buttons in two evenings, down from a typical three for a shirt like this one.

Retirement

The following is an open letter to the membership of our Gaelic society, Slighe nan Gaidheal regarding my decision to retire from the Board of Directors after 18 years of service.

Mo Shoraidh Slan Leibh (fad greis)

My Fond Farewell To You (for a while)

Back in 1995 when the guys in my Scottish Gaelic class with Richard Hill started organizing events together I could not have imagined the joys, the challenges, and the love that the next twenty years would bring into my life. I have been called upon to grow as a student of Gaelic and it's history and culture, as a community organizer, and as a human being and I know that growth will serve and sustain me for the rest of my life.

Three years ago, when I decided that I was running for my last term on the Board of Directors this day seemed a distant dot on the horizon, but here it is. Deciding to retire wasn't easy, and last Monday evening when a new season of Seirm started without my help it was strange. Good, but strange.

I was one of the original incorporators back when we started Slighe nan Gaidheal in 1997, and there were a couple years of work before that also, so all told, I have served this community as an organizer for twenty years without a break. I have life goals that are sitting basically idle and I’m hoping that I’ll be able to accomplish some with the time I’ll have back by retiring from the Board, the Communications Committee, and the Gaelic Music Committee. I will continue to teach through the Zero to Gaelic program, though, so if you miss me, come sign up!

Working to help build Slighe nan Gaidheal the organization and its community is without a doubt the most important thing I've ever done, and it has been hugely rewarding. The opportunity to meet and learn from our many tradition bearing presenters over the years is something that I will be grateful for forever. Just as importantly, knowing, working with, and sharing time with all of you has made my life into so much more than I ever thought it would be. Thank you.

Together we have built something extraordinary and precious. Féis Seattle, Seirm, and Zero to Gaelic are models that other communities are already starting to emulate. I know that whatever challenges may lie ahead, Slighe nan Gaidheal is strong and resilient enough to make it through with all of our help and the continuing leadership and dedication of our Board of Directors. It is especially comforting that our first president and another person who signed the incorporation documents, Richard, is back on the Board and steering the way to a bright future for our organization.

While I won't be involved in Slighe nan Gaidheal's day-to-day operations for the foreseeable future, I will most certainly be working hard for Gaelic in our region. Doug and I are already involved in the launch of Guth nan Eilean's inaugural season of their program, Conversational Gaelic, and we hope to be able to provide some organizational assistance to other groups as well.

Sharron Gunn and I at Folklife circa 1998

So it's really not farewell, it's just see you in different contexts. If you want to stay in touch, you can join my musician page on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/seumasgaelicmusic

Or sign up for my e-mail newsletter: http://mail.seumasgagne.com/mailman/listinfo/friends_seumasgagne.com

Chí mi sibh uile a-rithist!

Seumas

Maureen's Letter

This is the story I premiered at a concert last night in Seattle. The song described will be on my next CD, which will only be made when my first CD is sold out. Hint. Hint.

---

When I started learning Scottish Gaelic and our society, Slighe nan Gaidheal, was just a glimmer in our eyes, our teacher, Richard Hill, encouraged us to get on up the road and attend events at the Vancouver Gaelic society to meet and learn from the community of Scottish expats there, many of whom were native speakers.

I did so along with my classmates, and got something out of it I wasn’t expecting. I was already giddy with excitement at having started to learn this language and music which I had been looking for since I was a child, and with the beginnings of a community of people here in Seattle that were just as excited about it. Through the friendships we made in Vancouver, though, we discovered that we were connected to something that spans the globe and the centuries. I found a culture in which because I play the harp and sing, and was studying Gaelic I was automatically valued.

My first teacher, Richard Hill and Maureen circa 1996.

My first native speaker teacher was a woman from the Isle of Lewis called Maureen Lyon. Maureen was a high school teacher in her working years, and was a driving force in organizing events at the Vancouver society. She has an easy laugh, a bright spirit, and is a woman who gets things done. The more times I made it up North to study Gaelic with her, the more I felt like we were becoming real friends.

At that time, I was single and had been for most of my adult life, so the fact that I was Gay was pretty theoretical. That was, until I had a short affair that happened to coincide with Mòd Vancouver 1999. His name was Glen, and he has sadly since passed from this world –may his spirit find peace– and I brought him along. People noticed, and my deep-seated insecurities surfaced. These folks were mostly from the previous generation or the one before that and I don’t know if you know anything about the Isle of Lewis, but the Free Church of Scotland is a big part of island life and their outlook on many subjects is black and white. I became worried that my friendship with Maureen and the others would evaporate if they knew.

In true Gaelic fashion, somebody told Maureen that I was worried. The next time I was up in BC for a weekend I got a call from Maureen on Sunday morning as I was packing up to drive home. “Stop by the house. I have something for you.” Seemed perfectly normal. Probably a tape (we still used tapes then) or book or song or something.

Maureen lives in White Rock, right on the border. I drove into her drive way and got out of the car, but then something strange happened. She came out of her front door and closed it behind her. She had an envelope in her hand. I walked up and greeted her. She handed me the envelope and wished me a safe drive home, then went inside and closed the door. If you know anything about Highland culture, you know that is exceedingly strange. No tea?

I went back to the car and then the metaphorical bucket of ice water went down my back. This was a letter telling me to take my abominably sinful lifestyle choices home with me and never come back.

When I got in line at the border, my hands were shaking as I opened the envelope. Inside was a half sheet of paper with a poem in the format of a letter. It began “a Sheumais Chòir,” – Dear Seumas. I won’t translate the whole thing because it would sound like I was praising myself and that’s simply not done. Suffice to say that she gave me a long list of all the things she likes about me told me that she would never want me to be heavy in mind, but full of light for my whole life and true to myself always. She signed it “le gaol agus tuigse” – with love and understanding – “do dhéagh charaid” - your good friend, Maureen. It’s one of my most prized possessions.

Last year, as I was thinking about putting together material for another CD, I glanced at it up on the wall and wondered why I had never done anything with it. It’s kind of short for a song, I thought, and then it dawned on me. I would write a reply, and so I did.

My reply begins “a Mhaureen Chòir” – Dear Maureen. Your enduring faithful friendship is more valuable to me than I can tell and I want you to know how important that poem was to me that you wrote twenty years ago. It’s in my mind and heart still encouraging me every day. – And I close my reply with “le gaol agus cuimhne” - with love and memory. “do charaid gu bràth” - your friend forever, Seumas.

The song I made from these two verses is titled “Gaol agus Tuigse” – Love and Understanding and will be on my next CD. As soon as my first CD is sold out. Hint. Godsdamn Hint.

Just to prove this a true story.

Royal Scottish National Mòd • Inverness • 2014

The view from Inverness Castle, which is actually
just the town hall and court house. Still pretty cool.

The official invitation came late last year, though we had heard rumors before then that Guth nan Eilean, The Gaelic choir in Victoria, BC was going to travel to Inverness to the Royal Scottish National Mòd to compete in 2014. It turns out they needed some more male voices, and more fluent speakers. With Doug and I, they got both whilst using up just one of the hotel rooms in their reservation block. We've known many of the members of the choir since 1997 when they formed, and Doug's hometown is Victoria, so it seemed like a very natural fit.

The first major task was taking our Gaelic assessment tests over Skype. I had taken one of these tests back in 1997 when I went to my first Mòd (also in Inverness that year) so wasn't too nervous about it. With the eight hour time difference, we wound up scheduling our Skype calls for midnight and 1:00am. Luckily, we're both night owls. The test consisted of a conversation with a native speaker that was being listened to by a third party, who in our case was the talented young singer Seumas Greumach. He was marking off the required skills while we chatted. Within an hour after finishing up, we got the e-mails informing us that we had both gotten gold card, the highest grade.

One of many selfie-with-castle shots from the trip.

Guth nan Eilean arranged three Saturday rehearsals over the Summer so that we could attend. We always stay with Doug's Mum when we go over to visit, and I think she was happy about the extra time with us. The rehearsals were plenty of fun and it was great spending some time with whole group.

We met up in Inverness on Monday, October 13th when we checked into the Thistle Hotel. Doug and I had decided not to enter any competitions on our own, and in retrospect I think that was a mistake. We would have met more people and probably had an easier time locating the nightlife if we had!

Outside Eden Court before our first
competitions. Spiffy!

Rehearsals started the next day. I had felt that telltale tickle in the back of my throat the night before we left Seattle, so I had already gone through my cold and was mostly recovered. Doug, however, was in full throes of it, as was his fellow bass, Alex. We were all nervous about the illnesses, but what was there to do but soldier on?

We were entered into two competitions, the puirt-a-beul, and the Margaret Duncan. The puirt-a-beul competition was at 9:00am on the Friday, so that was an early start, but everyone made it in plenty of time. All choirs big and small participate in that competition, so when our group - with me pretending to be a tenor and two poorly basses - finished in the middle of the pack, I was quite happy.

The second competition, I had thought we were better prepared for, but the judges did not agree. We came in dead last in the Margaret Duncan. Our Gaelic coach, Anne Riley, though could certainly hold her head high - our Gaelic score was 96/100, but our music score was only 92/100. I don't think of us has having lost anything, though, but only as having gained. We have renewed, stronger ties with the community in Victoria, wonderful shared memories, and ambitions for the future.

The view from the bass section looking up at the
conductors and the glitterati of the Gaelic world.

The last event of the Mòd is the massed choir, which in Inverness is held on the esplanade of the Castle. It was a glorious, sunny afternoon and the sound of hundreds of voices lifted in Gaelic song is something everyone should hear.

Project 41: Flying Clothes

Lingoman and I are headed out on our longest vacation yet this coming Sunday. Three weeks in England and Scotland and we're both very excited. It will also be the greatest number of consecutive days together in more than thirteen years.

We were invited to go with the Victoria Gaelic Choir to compete in the Royal National Mòd in Inverness, Scotland. They needed more fluent speakers and more male voices, and with us they got two of each for the price of just one hotel room.

We decided early on to make a big trip out of it since our last Scottish trip was only nine days and it felt like a waste of money to cross the damn Atlantic only to turn around and come back right away. We're spending three nights in London first, then heading up to my cousins' in Ramsey, Cambridgeshire with a side trip to my Mom's hometown of Cleethorpes to see my last living aunt. Then it's up to Glasgow for the weekend before the final push to reach Inverness. Six days there at the biggest Gaelic festival in the world is going to be spectacular. Inverness is where the Mòd was held in 1997 when I won the harp competition. When that's all done, we think we'll be heading out the Isle of Skye for a few days at our friend Alec's self-catering croft house.

Anyway, what does that have to do with clothes? I decided I wanted some nicer-than-t-shirts but still easy to travel with clothing for the trip. I picked up some polycotton interlock at Fabricana last weekend and made these colour-blocked raglan sleeve shirts in a single evening. The one with the black body and grey sleeves is the most successful v-neck so-far. The contrast stitching on the hems was a last minute experiment. Not quite sure I like it yet.

There are two more shirts on the cutting table so with any luck I'll get them done in plenty of time.