Robert John Welch & Scoil Chill Éinne c.1895

Beirim chugaibh an mhí seo radharc eile ar shaibhris Leabharlann Shéamais Uí Argadáin in OÉ Gaillimh agus léargas ar shaol Scoil Chill Éinne, scoil nach maireann a thuilleadh ach a bhronn orainn fianaise luachmhar d’amhránaíocht i gCeann Thoir Árann.

Bhí scoileanna scairte in Árainn sular bunaíodh scoileanna éagsúla náisiúnta ann ó 1851 ar aghaidh ach níor seoladh Scoil Chill Éinne go dtí 1889. Níorbh fhada ina dhiaidh sin a tógadh ‘Residence’ na múinteoirí in aice láimhe. Bhí an scoil ag freastal ar pháistí Chill Éinne agus Iaráirne, bailte ina raibh cúpla céad duine ina gcónaí ag an am, agus faoi 1892 b’iad Miss Osbourne agus Miss McGovern – Anne McGovern as Co. Shligigh, is dóigh liom, a rugadh c.1874 – a bhí ag teagasc inti. I mí Iúil na bliana sin, ghlac Jane W. Shackleton (1843-1909) grianghraf de Miss Osbourne agus dá daltaí, grianghraf a foilsíodh le gairid sa leabhar Jane Shackleton’s Ireland faoi eagar Christiaan Corlett (Corcaigh: Collins Press, 2012). An bhliain sin, toghadh Shackleton ina ball den Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland agus ghlac sí páirt sna turais a thug an eagraíocht sin ar fud na tíre. Agus í i mbun léachtóireachta faoina cuairt ar Árainn, dúirt sí faoi ghasúir na scoile:

The children looked bright and intelligent. There is a new shed erected in the school house yard where boys are taught to make and mend fishing nets.

'Young Firbolgs' a bhaistigh Welch orthu seo

Bal/0018, Special Collections, James Hardiman Library

I Leabharlann Shéamais Uí Argadáin in Albam Bhalfour, maireann grianghraf eile ón tréimhse céanna a léiríonn, is dóigh liom féin, an scoil chéanna; tá fáilte romhat do bharúil féin a roinnt. I 1894 nó i mí Iúil 1895, tháinig ball den Irish Field Club Union agus d’Acadamh Ríoga na hÉireann, an grianghrafadóir gairmiúil Robert John Welch (1859-1936), go hÁrainn agus chruthaigh an íomhá seo. Tabharfar suntas don bhfeisteas éagsúil agus do na leabhair scoile i lámha na bpáistí.

Trí mhúineamh na litearthachta, fuair daltaí na scoile seo deis a bhfianaise fhéin a chruthú i 1937-8 nuair a spreag an Máistir Ó Domhnalláin iad chun cur le Bailiúchán na Scol ar shon iarracht náisiúnta Choimisiún Béaloideasa Éireann. San ábhar béaloidis a chruinnigh siad tá stór mór amhrán, ina measc an t-amhrán áitiúil a chum an file Tomás Ó Briain (c1890-1962) as Cill Éinne, Amhrán na Feola, arna bhreacadh ag iníon deirfiúra dó, Máire Ní Dhioráin (c1921-2007).

Sa bhfichiú aois, áfach, níorbh fhéidir leis an scoil an ceann is fearr a fháil ar an laghdú daonra. Dúnadh í ar 1 Aibreán 1970 – tráth a raibh daoine as Árainn ag máirseáil go Baile Átha Cliath ar shon Scoil Dhún Chaoin –  agus seoladh an 54 dalta go Cill Rónáin. Mo léan, níor cuireadh cosc ar chiorruithe ó shin. I 2005, bhagair Roinn an Oideachais nach bhfágfaí san oileán ach aon bhunscoil amháin agus, cé gur cuireadh in aghaidh a gcuid pleananna, níor éirigh le Scoil Fhearann a’ Choirce – an scoil is faide a mhair sna hoileáin – teacht slán. Fágadh dhá bhunscoil in Árainn – Scoil Eoghanachta thiar (23 dalta) agus Scoil Chill Rónáin thoir (42 dalta) – ach tá siadsan iad féin anois i mbaol de bharr ciorraithe nua na Roinne, is é sin líon na múinteoirí a laghdú, go leibhéal na naoú haoise déag is cosúil.

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This post shares another of the James Hardiman Library’s treasures and some insight into the life of Scoil Chill Éinne, a primary school that no longer exists but which created evidence of the local song tradition upon which this project now draws.

There were hedge schools in Árainn (Inismór) before various national schools were introduced from 1851 onwards. Cill Éinne National School appeared in 1889 followed shortly after by the construction nearby of a teacher’s ‘Residence.’ The school served the villages of Cill Éinne and Iaráire, which were then home to hundreds of people, and by 1892 its teachers were Miss Osbourne and Miss McGovern, probably Anne McGovern of Co. Sligo (born c.1874). In July of that year, Jane W. Shackleton (1843-1909) photographed Miss Osbourne with her charges. The image was recently published in Christiaan Corlett’s Jane Shackleton’s Ireland (Cork: Collins Press, 2012). That same year, Shackleton was elected to the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland, and she participated in many of their excursions all over the country. During one of her lectures on Aran, she said of the schoolchildren:

The children looked bright and intelligent. There is a new shed erected in the school house yard where boys are taught to make and mend fishing nets.

The Balfour Album in the Hardiman Library contains a contemporaneous photograph that depicts, I believe, the same school, though I invite readers to disagree with me as they wish. It was created in 1894 or July 1895 by a member of the Irish Field Club Union and the Royal Irish Academy, the professional photographer Robert John Welch (1859-1936). Notice the children’s clothing and the schoolbooks in their hands.

The acquisition of literacy enabled the pupils of this school to create their own historical documents. In 1937-8 Master Ó Domhnalláin inspired them to contribute to the School’s Scheme on behalf of the Irish Folklore Commission. Amid the folkloric material they gathered was a large repertoire of song, including the local composition Amhrán na Feola (The Free Beef Song) by Tomás Ó Briain (c1890-1962) of Cill Éinne, which was transcribed by his niece Máire Ní Dhioráin (c1921-2007).

In the twentieth century, however, the school failed to resist the effects of population decline. It was closed on 1 April 1970 – at which time some islanders were on a solidarity march to Dublin to demonstrate against the closure of Scoil Dhún Chaoin in Kerry – and its 54 pupils were sent to Cill Rónáin. Unfortunately, cutbacks have continued since. In 2005, the Department of Education threatened to amalgamate the island’s three schools and, despite objections to their plans, Scoil Fhearann a’ Choirce – the longest running school in Aran – was eventually closed. The two remaining schools – Scoil Eoghanachta (23 pupils) and Scoil Chill Rónáin (42 pupils) – are now under pressure from the latest form of cutbacks, which is to reduce the number of teachers, apparently to nineteenth-century levels.

George Brabson (b.1761) & Róidín Gharraí an Asail

Cuimhne agus díchuimhne, tuile agus trá an chine dhaonna. Is as Árainn (Inis Mór) do scéal an lae inniu, scéal faoin dtuairisc is sine dá bhfuil againn ar cheol Árann, tuairisc atá os cionn 200 bliain d’aois. Maireann freisin béaloideas faoin scéal céanna.

Is iomadh tuairisc ar stair na hÉireann a scriosadh le linn an Chogadh Chathartha, tráth gur loiscigh tine chonspóideach mhillteach na Ceithre Cúirteanna i mBaile Átha Cliath áit a raibh páipéarachas an stáit á stóráil ag an am; ach tharla go dtáinig daonáireamh Árann na bliana 1821 slán ón dtubaiste sin. Is rí-spéisiúil an cur síos atá ann agus is cruinne é ná daonáireamh garbh na bliana 1812 a chruthaigh duine de chlann úinéirí an oileáin, Digby Devinish (féach leabhar James Hardiman, The History of the Town and County of the Town of Galway, from the Earliest Period to the Present Time, 1820 (1975), 320). B’as Cill Mhuirbhigh don bhfear a chruinnigh an t-eolas in 1821. B’é sin Pádraig Ó Flaithbheartaigh (1781-1864), feilméara agus giúistís a raibh meas ag an bpobal air, mar a chonaic George Petrie (1790-1866), ealaíontóir agus ársaitheoir clúiteach a tháinig ar a chéad chuairt go hÁrainn an bhliain chéanna:

Mr. O’Flaherty may be justly denominated the pater patriae of the Araners. He is the reconciler in all difference, the judge in all disputes, the adviser in all enterprises, and the friend in all things…

San daonáireamh seo, luaigh Pádraig na ceoltóirí gairmiúla a bhí in Árainn an samhradh sin. Ba píobairí cúigear acu: John Boyle (aois 78), Michael Tierney (aois 48), agus Michael Wright (aois 20) in Árainn; agus Thomas Flanagan (aois 58) agus David Noonan (aois 21) in Inis Oírr. Ó tharla nach iad sloinnte dúchasacha na n-oileán a bhí ar an gcúigear seo, déarfá gur isteach ar cuairt a tháinig siad. D’fhágfadh sin nach raibh ach aon oileánach amháin ag saothrú an cheoil uirlise, fear a raibh sloinne air a bhaineann le dúchas Cromallach Árann, George Brabson (Brabazon a thabharfaí air in áiteanna eile). Rugadh é timpeall na bliana 1761 agus, faoin mbliain 1821, ní raibh fanta i dteach an “fiddler” seo ach a iníon Anne a shaothraigh a beatha ag cniotáil stocaí. Ó tharla nach raibh aon talamh acu, caithfidh go raibh Brabson agus a iníon ar an ngannchuid, mar ab ionann do mhuintir uile Chill Éinne beagnach, baile ina raibh líon mór daoine ag an am, os cionn 1,000 duine. B’iad a d’fhulaing an bhliain dar gcionn nuair a bhuail gorta mór na hoileáin.

Ceann de na bóithrí i bhFearann a’ Choirce
ar a dtugtar Róidín Gharraí an Asail

Inniu, san oileán seo ina maireann c.800 duine ina iomlán, maireann béaloideas faoi Bhrabson, béaloideas a roinn Maggie Deainín Uí Fhlaithearta liom. Chuaigh Brabson lá lena fhidil ar a ghualainn aige siar ar mhuin asail go Gort na gCapall áit a raibh sé le ceol a chasadh ar bhainis. Agus iad ag déanamh a mbealach go dtí an baile beag úd, síos bóithrín áithrid ar a dtugtar “Róidín Gharraí an Asail,” dúirt Maggie gur “mhaolaigh an t-asal a chluasa” agus thosaigh Brabson ag sciorradh dá dhroim. Pé casadh agus lúbadh a rinne sé agus é ag titim go talamh, d’éirigh leis a fhidil a thabhairt slán. Bhí sí sábháilte ina ghabháil aige faoin am gur síneadh é féin. Mhair cuimhne an éachta seo i rann beag a bhíodh i mbéal na ndaoine fadó ach, mo léan, ní cuimhin le Maggie go cruinn anois é. Go deimhin, níor éirigh liom go fóill a chinntiú cé acu bóithrín go díreach é Róidín Gharraí an Asail, mar go bhfuil a bharúil féin ag chuile dhuine. Cuimhne agus díchuimhne, tuile agus trá an chine dhaonna.

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This month’s blog concerns the oldest report of music in the Aran Islands, a report that happened to survive the destruction of many of Ireland’s historical records in the fires of the Civil War at the Four Courts in Dublin: the 1821 census. This fascinating document is more accurate than its predecessor, the 1812 census, which was prepared by Digby Devinish, a member of the family that owned the islands (see James Hardiman’s The History of the Town and County of the Town of Galway, from the Earliest Period to the Present Time, 1820 (1975), 320). The 1821 census was created by a man from Cill Mhuirbhigh, Pádraig Ó Flaithbheartaigh (1781-1864), a farmer and Justice of the Peace whom George Petrie (1790-1866), the famous Irish artist and antiquarian, met that same year during his first visit to Aran:

Mr. O’Flaherty may be justly denominated the pater patriae of the Araners. He is the reconciler in all difference, the judge in all disputes, the adviser in all enterprises, and the friend in all things…

Ó Flaithbheartaigh documented six professional musicians in Aran that summer. Five of them – John Boyle (78yrs), Michael Tierney (48yrs), and Michael Wright (20yrs) in Árainn and Thomas Flanagan (58yrs) and David Noonan (21yrs) in Inis Oírr – were most likely travelling pipers. The other was a 60-year-old fiddler with a surname that came to Aran with the Cromwellians: George Brabson or Brabazon. In 1821, he lived with his daughter Anne – who knitted stockings for a living – in Cill Éinne, a village with over 1,000 inhabitants. Many of the villagers were, like the Brabsons, landless and many of them thus suffered during the famine that struck the islands the following year.

Despite the subsequent decline of the population of Árainn to a total of c.800, a remnant of local poetry relating to this fiddler survives to this day in the locality. Maggie Deainín Uí Fhlaithearta shared with me the corresponding folklore. One day, Brabson rode to Gort na gCapall with his fiddle on his shoulder in order to play for a wedding. As he approached the village via Róidín Gharraí an Asail (the Road of the Ass’ Field), his mount – a donkey – threw him. As he fell to the ground, he managed somehow to swing his fiddle from his shoulder and landed holding it safely in his arms. Unfortunately, Maggie could not recall the entirety of the stanza made to celebrate Brabson’s acrobatic feat. Furthermore, I have yet to confirm the exact location of the road in question because everyone has their own opinions on the subject. Clearly, whether written or oral, the survival of local memory is often an accident of history.

John C. Messenger & briseadh an Plassy

Thagair mé an mhí seo caite do bhád darbh ainm Plassy a briseadh in Inis Oírr. Baineann blag na míosa seo leis an scéal sin agus le taifead an-áithrid den eachtra chéanna.

Íomhá: John & Betty Messenger. Le caoinchead ó Áras Éanna, Inis Oírr

Go moch ar maidin ar an 8 Márta 1960, agus í ag seoladh as Luimneach go Gaillimh, bhuail an long lastais Plassy faoi Charraig na Finnise sa Sunda ó Dheas.  Chruinnigh muintir Inis Oírr agus d’éirigh leo criú an bháid – aon duine dhéag ar fad – a thabhairt slán le baoi osánach.  Is féidir an t-eolas áitiúil faoi bhriseadh an bháid a léamh ar bhlag a scríobh an t-iriseoir Caomhán Keane (arbh as Árainn dá mháthair agus Inis Oírr dá athair).  Gheobhaidh sibh anseo freisin eolas ó fhear a tháinig slán ón mbád, Mick Tobin, mar a bhreac Michael Kirwan uaidh é.

Inniu, aithnítear an bád go forleathan mar go bhfuil a creatlach le feiceáil i dteidil chreidiúna na sraithe clúití teilifíse Father Ted, sraith atá i ndiaidh féile neamhghnáthach bhliantúil a bhronnadh ar Inis Mór gach Feabhra ó 2007 i leith. Ach aithnítear freisin í mar gheall ar na grianghrafanna a ghlac John agus Betty Messenger an mhaidin chinniúnach úd. Nár thráthúil go raibh siadsan ar an oileán agus go raibh ceamaraí agus fearas don scannánaíocht thostach acu chun a gcuid íomhánna a chruthú.  Tugann siad léargas iontach dúinn ar chomh cáite corraitheach a bhíonn farraigí Árann, farraigí ina bhfuil an rialtas ag brath ar fheirm mhór mhillteach éisc a chur go luath.  Ach sin scéal eile.

 Chinn John Messenger go gcruthódh sé taifead eile den mhór-eachtra oileánda seo – amhrán, nó bailéad ba chirte dom a rá.  D’fhoilsigh sé téacs an amhráin i 1983 ina leabhar An Anthropologist at Play: Balladmongering in Ireland and Its Consequences for Research. Is féidir an léirmheas géar a rinne D.K. Wilgus uirthi sin a léamh anseo ach is é mo phríomhsprioc-sa inniu ná taifead den amhrán a roinnt go poiblí don chéad uair. Seo mar a chan Murchadha an Phosta Ó Donnchadha as Inis Oírr The Song of the Plassy.

Mo bhuíochas le Betty Messenger agus le Cartlanna an Cheoil Thraidisiúnta, Ollscoil Indiana, Bloomington (EC3997) a thug cead an taifead a roinnt anseo.

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This month’s blog concerns the story of a shipwreck on Inis Oírr and reveals how the episode was documented in a most unusual way.

Early on the morning of 8 March 1960, as she sailed from Limerick to Galway, the freighter Plassy struck Finnish Rock in the South Sound. Islanders gathered on the eastern shore of Inis Oírr and, using ropes and a breeches-buoy, they succeeded in rescuing all eleven crew members. Local accounts of the rescue are documented here by the journalist Caomhán Keane (whose mother is from Árainn and whose father is from Inis Oírr), while Michael Kirwan documents here the testimony of the last surviving crew-member, Mick Tobin.

Today, the rusting skeleton of the boat is recognised far and wide from the opening credits of the cult TV series Father Ted, a phenomenon that has brought an unlikely annual festival to Inis Mór every February since 2007. But the ship is also known from the photographs taken that fateful morning by John and Betty Messenger, who happened to be on the island with their photographic and film cameras. Their images capture well the ferocity of the seas around Aran, seas in which the Irish government is now planning to put a gigantic salmon farm. But that’s another story.

John Messenger decided to compose a song about the incident and, in 1983, he published it in his book An Anthropologist at Play: Balladmongering in Ireland and Its Consequences for Research. You can read D.K. Wilgus’ cutting review of the book here but the real goal of this blogpost is to share with you another world premiere, a recording of Messenger’s song, sung by Murchadha an Phosta Ó Donnchadha of Inis Oírr: The Song of the Plassy.

My thanks to Betty Messenger and the Archives of Traditional Music, Indiana University, Bloomington who kindly granted permission to share this recording (EC3997) here.

John C. Messenger 1959-1964: Na Taifeadaí – The Recordings

Deirtear go mbíonn dhá insint ar gach scéal agus dhá insint dhéag ar gach amhrán; cruthaíonn an togra seo fírinne an ráitis sin chuile lá. Pléann blag na míosa seo scéal amháin ar a bhfuil dhá insint éagsúil, muna bhfuil an tríú insint tagtha chun solais ó shin.

Idir 1959 agus 1964, chaith na scoláirí Meiriceánacha John Cowan Messenger agus a bhean Betty Messenger tréimhsí in Inis Oírr ar mhaithe lena gcuid taighde antraipeolaíochta. Mar a rinne go leor de na hantraipeolaithe eile a bhí ag saothrú in Éirinn an t-am céanna – ina measc Hugh Brody, Robin Fox, Alexander J. Humphreys, agus Nancy Scheper-Hughes – dhírigh John agus Betty ar chuile ghné de shaol an oileáin, ó bheatha go bás an duine, tithe, éadaí, bia, obair, ceardaíocht, siamsaíocht, suirí, caidreamh collaí, cúrsaí creidimh, meabhairghalar, srl. I 1969, d’fhoilsigh John leabhar a bhí bunaithe ar a saothar ansiúd, Inis Beag Isle of Ireland, leabhar ina bhfuil cur síos an-leathan ar shaol an oileáin ach go bhfuil ainmneacha na ndaoine agus logainmneacha na háite faoi cheilt. Iarracht ar phríobháideachas an phobail a chosaint a bhí sa cheilt seo, is cinnte, ach bhí cúis eile léi freisin. Tuigeadh dóibh go mba pobal tuathánach a bhí in Inis Oírr agus cheadaigh an tuiscint sin – a bhí coitianta i measc antraipeolaithe na linne – dóibh an t-oileán a shamhlú mar mhicreacosma d’Éireann. Dar leo, Beag-Éireann a bhí in Inis Beag. Ba chuid de chruthú na samhla sin í an cheilt. Bhí ceilt den tsaghas seo coitianta go deimhin, faiseanta fiú, i measc antraipeolaithe na linne, tráth gur chreid roinnt scoláirí gur bhronn cur chuige fuarchúiseach mar é údarás ar an léann. Ba bheag an chosaint a bhí sa cheilt seo, áfach, d’oileán agus do phobal chomh beag le hInis Oírr. Mar a dhéanann gach leabhar, tharraing sí caint. Bhí daoine ann nár aontaigh lena raibh le léamh inti. Sílim go mb’fhiú a admháil anseo gur chuir Árainneach eile fainic orm blianta ó shin, nuair nach raibh mé ach díreach tosnaithe ar mo thaighde ar cheol agus amhráin ar thrí Oileán Árann, gan ainm Messenger a lua in Inis Oírr ar eagla go gcuirfeadh a leithéid de chaint mo shaothar-sa léinn i mbaol.

Indiana University, Archives of Traditional Music: 

John C. Messenger Ireland recordings, 

Galway, Donegal, Mayo and Clare Counties, 1959-64.

Accession number: 71-194-F.

Pé deacracht a bheadh ag daoine áirithe lena saothair, an leabhar ach go háirithe, d’fhág John agus Betty Messenger ábhar an-spéisiúil ina ndiaidh. Is iad a ghlac na grianghrafanna iomadúla atá crochta i dteach ósta Tigh Ned, mar shampla, grianghrafanna a léiríonn mar a briseadh an Plassy, an long atá ar chladaigh thoir an oileáin ó 1960 anuas. Maireann ábhar scannánaíochta ón lá sin freisin, chomh maith le líon mór taifeadaí fuaime a tógadh, ní amháin in Inis Oírr, ach in Inis Meáin, Dúlainn, Toraigh, agus An Pháirc, Co. Mhaigh Eo. Díobh seo, soláthraím thíos ceann díobh: Murchadha an Phosta Ó Donnchadha as Inis Oírr ag rá Bean a' Leanna ar 28 Iúil 1962.

Tabharfaidh an t-ábhar seo – idir grianghrafanna, scannáin, taifeadaí agus scríbhinní – deis do ghlúin úr a breithiúnas féin a thabhairt ar shaol an oileáin san am sin. Gabhaim mo bhuíochas leo seo a leanas a chur an taifead thuas ar fáil dom agus a thug dom a gcaoinchead é a roinnt libh anseo: Marilyn Graf i gCartlanna an Cheoil Thraidisiúnta, Ollscoil Indiana, Bloomington; Robbie Hannan in Ard-Mhúsaem Tuaiscirt Éireann; agus Betty Messenger, atá beo bríomhar go fóill i gColumbus, Ohio.

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There are two sides to every story, but in Ireland, we add to that saying “there are twelve ways to sing a song.” It’s an acknowledgment of the power of each performance to generate discussion, and even disputes, a tip of the hat to confirm the centrality of song in Irish cultural life. Working on this project frequently calls the saying to mind.

Between 1959 and 1964, the American anthropologists John Cowan Messenger and his wife Betty Messenger spent several long periods of time in Inis Oírr. Like many other contemporary anthropologists working in Ireland – including Hugh Brody, Robin Fox, Alexander J. Humphreys, and Nancy Scheper-Hughes – they focused on all aspects of island life from the cradle to the grave, dwellings, clothes, foodways, work, craftsmanship, pastimes, courting, sexual mores, religion, mental illness etc. In 1969, John published a book entitled Inis Beag Isle of Ireland, which gives a correspondingly broad sweep of island life, but which also conceals identities of people and place. Pseudonyms have the potential to protect the innocent, certainly, but the Messengers had other reasons for adopting them. They imagined that the community in Inis Oírr represented a ‘peasant’ culture (in the non-derogatory sense – a typically agrarian, rural, largely non-cosmopolitan and homogenous culture), one that could be interpreted as a microcosm of the greater island of Ireland. Renaming Inis Oírr and its people was a necessary element of their characterization. For the purposes of contemporary anthropology, it also lent a degree of objectivity and, therefore, authority to that practice. Ultimately, the protection that pseudonyms offered to such a small and close-knit community was inadequate. The book caused such controversy that, over thirty years later, just as I was starting out on my research into the musical traditions of Aran, a fellow islander cautioned me to avoid mentioning the name of Messenger in Inis Oírr in case it would jeopardize my own scholarly efforts.

Whatever difficulty some people might have with their enterprise, the book in particular, John and Betty Messenger left us a fascinating body of work including manuscript materials, film, photographs, and recordings, one of which is being published for the very first time, right here: Murchadha an Phosta Ó Donnchadha of Inis Oírr singing Bean a' Leanna on 28 July 1962.

This collection of material will give a new generation the opportunity to draw its own conclusions about life in Inis Oírr in the early 1960s. The recording has been made available here through the kind offices of the following: Marilyn Graf at the Archives of Traditional Music, Indiana University, Bloomington; Robbie Hannan at the National Museum of Northern Ireland; and Betty Messenger, who resides in Columbus, Ohio.

Dán Nollag – Christmas Poem

Ó tharla go bhfuileamar anois idir an dá Nollag, ní miste go soláthrófaí inniu ábhar atá tráthúil go maith. Is iomadh amhrán, dán, agus agallamh beirte a chum an file Maitiú Ó Maoláin (1912-1969) – tugtar Meait Pheaits Rua nó Meait Neainín air freisin – as Eoghanacht, Árainn. Ina measc, tá an dán beag seo, ag guí beannachtaí na féile ar an éisteoir.

For this holiday season, we turn to the work of Maitiú Ó Maoláin (1912-1969) of Eoghanacht, Árainn, who composed many songs, poems, and dialogues. Among them is this short seasonal poem.

Dán Nollag

Tí Mheait Neainín ar an Leic Mhór, Eoghanacht, Árainn c.1950í.
Féach an dá fhuinneog thuas staighre ag breathnú soir.
Pic. Bailiúchán Béaloideas Árann.

I stábla i mBeithil

Mainséar sínte

Bhí leanbh aoibhinn

Cuachta in eadaí bána

Gan teas gan dídean

Ó fhuacht na hoíche ann

Ach anáil caora,

Asal ‘s dámh

Rí na Ríthe

‘Bhí sa mainséar sínte

Muire na hóighe

B’í a mháthair

Beannacht na díse

Ar do theach agus daoine

Nollaig aoibhinn agat

Séan ‘s áthas.

Amen.

Christmas Poem

In a stable in Bethlehem

Lying in a manger

There was a beautiful babe

Bound in white clothes

There without heat without shelter

From the cold of the night

Except for the breathe of a sheep,

An ass and an ox.

It was the King of Kings

That lay in the manger

The Virgin Mary

She was his mother

The blessings of the pair

On your house and people

A delightful Christmas to you

Happiness and joy.

Amen.

Dara Beag Ó Fátharta (7 Iúil 1920–30 Deireadh Fómhair 2012)

“Nuair a thiteann laoch, ardaíonn sé deannach na mblianta cróga;

Nuair a thiteann laoch, lasann sé lóchrann inár gcroíthe.”

Sin mar a d’fhág an scríbhneoir Dara Ó Conaola slán ag a uncail, file aitheanta Inis Meáin Dara Beag Ó Fátharta nó Dara Beag Dara Pheigín Mhicil Mhichíl Mháire mar a d’aithin sé féin, ar ócáid a shochraide siúd ar an 3 Samhain seo caite. Rith an dá líne thuas le Dara sna laethannta idir bás agus adhlacadh Dhara Bhig agus, díreach i ndiaidh dó ceann de dhánta an fhile a léamh ón altóir, thograigh sé a loinneog a roinnt leis an slua a bhí cruinnithe. Má nochtaigh an loinneog a thuairim phearsanta ar bhás a fhear gaoil, nochtaigh a rogha dáin – An Aerstráice nó Aer Árann mar a thugann roinnt oileánach air – an imní is mó atá ar phobal Árann inniu: is í sin go gcaillfear an tseirbhís aeir go trí oileáin Árann go luath mar gheall ar chiorruithe atá á bheartú ag an rialtas. Tá mé cinnte de, dá n-eireódh leis an bhfile a bheith beo ar a shochaid fhéin, gurb ionann an rogha a bheadh déanta aigesean. Duanmholadh ní ba fheiliúnaí ní fhéadfaí a shamhlú, duanmholadh a lean comhairle an fhir fhéin: “Caithfidh an file breathnú roimhe mar go mairfidh an chaint.”

Dúinne a chuireann spéis sna hamhráin agus sa bhfilíocht phobail, nochtann an eachtra seo nithe eile go géar agus go grinn: is iad sin feidhm na filíochta pobail, feidhm na n-amhrán, feidhm na hamhránaíochta, agus feidhm an fhile, agus cé chomh beo is atá na feidhmeanna sin go fóill in Árainn agus in Éirinn. Ina dhán, rinne Dara Beag comóradh ar theacht Aer Árann agus mheabhraigh don bpobal na hathruithe a bhí rompu de bharr tuirlingt na n-eitleán. Ansin, ar a shochraid, bhronn mac deirfiúra leis deis air chun cur lena dhán trí fainic a chur orainne a d’éist faoi scuabadh na n-eitleán céanna. An lá úd i séipéal Inis Meáin, mhair caint an fhile, agus spreag sí an comhluadar a chaith an lá inné i mbun feachtasaíochta ag tarraingt ar rialtas na tíre i mBaile Átha Cliath lena n-imní faoin tseirbhís aeir a léiriú agus leis an cás a phlé le polaiteoirí.

Is léir, mar sin, nárbh aon chur i gcéill an méid a mhínigh Dara Beag do Sheán Ó Cualáin: “Inis Meáin m’áit agus mo pharlús.” Is léir go raibh, mar a tuigeadh do Bhreandán Feirtéar, “cúram a dhúchais air.” Chuidigh an réimse leathan buanna a bhí aige – a mheabhair, a ionraiceas, a uaisleacht, a dhea-chaint, a dheaslámhacht, agus a chuid filíochta – chuidigh siad leis a chúram a chur de; ach, b’í an fhílíocht ach go háirithe a bhronn air an t-ardán a bhí tuillte aige, ardán gur ghlac sé seilbh iomlán údarásach shnasta air.

“Ar airigh tú caint ar Aer Árann
Nó an féidir go bhfuil tú gan treoir?
Ar an turas breá lae aoibhinn álainn
Go hÁrainn na Naomh is na seod.
[...]
Nach ansiúd a bhéas an gliondar is croitheadh láimhe
Roimhe dhaoine a thiocfas anall.
Ach silfear na deora go fras ann
I ndiaidh imeacht gan filleadh go brách.”

*

“When a hero falls, he raises the dust of the brave years;

When a hero falls, he lights a blaze in our hearts.”

That is how the writer Dara Ó Conaola bid farewell to his uncle, the famed poet of Inis Meáin Dara Beag Ó Fátharta or Dara Beag Dara Pheigín Mhicil Mhichíl Mháire as he himself styled, on the occasion of his funeral on 3 November last. The lines came to Dara in the days between Dara Beag’s death and burial and, as he read one of the poet’s compositions from the altar, he chose to share his refrain with the congregation. If the refrain revealed his personal response to the death of his relative, his choice of song – The Airstrip or Aer Árann as it is known to some islanders – revealed the greatest cause of concern to the local community today: that is the imminent threat of losing the air service to the three Aran islands because of budget cuts that are currently being considered by the government. I am certain that, if the poet had lived to witness his own funeral, his choice would have been the same. It was the perfect eulogy, one that followed the man’s own advice: “The poet must look ahead because talk endures.”

For us who live with songs and with folk poetry, this episode brings some other aspects into sharp focus: the purpose of the people’s own poetry, the purpose of songs, of singing, and of the poet, and how vital these causes are still in Aran and in Ireland. In his poem, Dara Beag commemorated the creation of Aer Árann and drew the community’s attention to the changes brought by the arrival of the planes. There, at his funeral, his nephew gave him the opportunity to add to his poem by warning those of us who listened about the removal of those same planes. That day in the church in Inis Meáin, the poet’s talk endured, and it inspired the group who campaigned in Dublin yesterday to highlight their concern for their air service and to discuss it with politicians.

Dara Beag was clearly being truly honest with Seán Ó Cualáin when he said “Inis Meáin is my place and my parlour.” He was, as Breandán Feirtéar understood, “the custodian of his heritage.” His wide range of talents – his intelligence, honesty, dignity, eloquence, his skill with his hands, and his poetic ability – helped him to carry out his duty, but it was his poetry in particular that gave him the platform he richly deserved, a platform he duly commanded with absolute authority and artistry.

“Have you heard talk of Aer Árann
Or can it be that you have been misguided?
On the fine journey of a delightful, beautiful day
To Aran of the Saints and the jewels.
[...]
There will be joy there and the shaking of hands
Of people who will come across.
But tears will be shed there in cascades
In the wake of leaving without ever returning.”

Pat Pheaidí Ó hIarnáin (1903-1989) & George Pickow (1922-2010)

Don gcéad bhlag seo uaim, thograíos íomhá spéisiúil a d’aimsigh mé i Leabharlann Shéamais Uí Argadáin anseo in OÉ Gaillimh a roinnt libh. Is é an Meiriceánach George Pickow (1922-2010) a ghlac an grianghraf. Léiríonn sé fear as Cill Mhuirbhigh, Pat Pheaidí Ó hIarnáin (1903-1989), ag gabháil amhráin agus a chomharsa Neain Mhaidhc Mhóir Uí Iarnáin (thugtaí Granny Hernon uirthi freisin) ag suí sa chlúid. Shílfeadh duine gur ar a theallach féin atá Pat ag canadh, ach ní mar a shíltear a bítear. Is i dteachín an ‘Man of Aran’ ar an mbaile céanna a glacadh an grianghraf. Níorbh é seo an chéad uair ná an uair dheireanach gur bhain grianghrafadóirí leas as fhuinneog neamhghnách dín an tí úd, fuinneog a scaoil anuas solas geal an lae; b’fhéidir go roinnfead libh grianghrafanna Frances Flaherty (1932-3) agus Haywood Magee (1949) amach anseo.

Bhí George Pickow ar cuairt in Árainn lena bhean, an ceoltóir clúiteach Jean Ritchie as Viper, Kentucky. I 1952, bronnadh comhaltacht Fulbright ar Jean ionas go bhféadfadh sí préamhacha cheol Mheiriceá a fhiosrú ar an taobh seo den Aigéan Atlantach. Agus iad lonnaithe i Londain idir 1952 agus 1953, d’éirigh le Jean agus George cuairteanna a thabhairt ar Éireann agus Albain, agus thaifead siad go leor ceoil. Mo léan, níor thaifead siad in Árainn. Agus mé ar cuairt chucu i Nua Eabhrac i 2001, mhínigh Jean agus George dom gur chuir an easpa aibhléise a bhí in Árainn ag an am cosc ar aon iarracht uathu taifid a chruthú ansin. Mar sin, is luachmhar go deimhin iad na céadta grianghrafanna a ghlac George. Tá roinnt mhaith díobh le feiceáil anois ar shuíomh na leabharlainne: féach Cnuasach Ritchie-Pickow.

Bhí neart amhráin ag Pat Pheaidí, ina measc ‘An Míoltóg’ a chum fear eile as Cill Mhuirbhigh, Séamus Ó Caoluighe (c.1793-c.1896), faoi bhád de chuid Shéamuis Uí Fhlaithbhearta: “Thíos i bhPort Mhuirbhigh ‘s ea chuir mé mo bháidín ‘un seoil...”

 *

For this first blogpost, I’ve chosen to share with you an image I found in the James Hardiman Library here at NUI Galway, an image showing a man from Cill Mhuirbhigh, Pat Pheaidí Hernon (1903-1989), singing a song while his neighbour Neain Mhaidhc Mhóir Hernon sits in the fireplace of the ‘Man of Aran’ cottage. The choice of location was deliberate. The thatched cottage had a skylight that enabled early visiting photographers including Frances Flaherty and Haywood Magee to photograph indoor scenes. The New York photographer George Pickow (1922-2010) was then visiting Aran with his wife, the legendary folksinger Jean Ritchie, who had won a Fulbright fellowship to study the roots of American folk music on this side of the Atlantic. In 1952-3, from their base in London, they visited Ireland and Scotland and recorded a lot of music. Unfortunately, they did not record in Aran. When we shared a pot of tea in Long Island back in 2001, Jean and George explained to me that the lack of mainline electricity in Aran persuaded them not to bother with bringing their reel-to-reel tape recorder with them. The hundreds of photos that George took are, therefore, particularly valuable. Many of them can now be viewed on the library website: see the Ritchie-Pickow Collection, James Hardiman Library, NUI Galway.

Pat Pheaidí had many songs including ‘An Míoltóg’ (The Midge) about a boat belonging to Séamus Ó Flaithbhearta. The song was composed by Séamus Ó Caoluighe (c.1793-c.1896) from Cill Mhuirbhigh: “Down in Port Mhuirbhigh is where I launched my little boat...”