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476 6485 Timeless songs of the Emerald Isle IRELAND Annalisa Kerrigan

Kerrigan Ireland Booklet - · PDF fileTraditional lament. ... she notes that Edward Bunting got the song from Doctor Crawford in 1808. ... Lie scentless and dead

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Page 1: Kerrigan Ireland Booklet -  · PDF fileTraditional lament. ... she notes that Edward Bunting got the song from Doctor Crawford in 1808. ... Lie scentless and dead

476 6485

Timeless songs of the Emerald Isle

IRELAND

Annalisa Kerrigan

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I also thank Mal Stanley, for his patience and courage. After throwinghimself in, hook, line and sinker, and despite all our idiosyncracies, he managed to produce something magical from the bare sounds wecreated. I’m only sad that in an album such as this, we had to editout both the laughter and the bad jokes.

My Irish background is one of those removed kinds – my mother,Patricia Anne Teresa Hogan, and her parents all lived in England forthe majority of their lives, except mum, who moved to Melbourne in1969. But whenever I visit Ireland, especially the deep south aroundCaherdaniel and Killarney, I feel a connection to the ground. I don’tthink this is unusual for a member of the Irish diaspora. And yet I amaware of the distance between me, daughter of Irish emigrants, andIreland-born Irishmen and women, who know that I am not really Irish.

And yet the music of Ireland, inherited by our diaspora, gives us asense of belonging that I cannot describe in words. We also inheriteda need to keep these ties and our ‘Irishness’ alive – this need wasperhaps made stronger because our grandparents and great-grandparents often had a difficult time in their adopted cultures, atleast initially, and everyone likes to believe they belong somewhere.

And so here it is – a recording by a descendant of Irishmen, born inAustralia and educated in Italy... I pray you enjoy it as much as I lovedsinging in it.

Annalisa Kerrigan

In researching the music that I have recorded on this album, I spent a lot of time listening to any recordings I could find thateven vaguely referred to Irish music, in particular the mostbeautiful recordings of Mary O’Hara. I spent a lot of timetravelling around Ireland, sitting in various dark and smoky pubs(smoky no longer after they passed the ban!) and listening tofantastic musicians playing everything from tin whistle tobodhran to accordion or piano, and once, in Galway, the spoons.There was a lot of time with my head in tomes and books of Irishmusic, from The Irish Song Book to tiny pocketbooks of popularsongs that I found in the Trinity College Library shop, of allplaces. Most importantly of all, I asked my mother.

I make no claim to be a traditional Irish singer, or a pure folkmusician. I am aware of the sensitivities of such a claim, and Icast no false stake upon their ground. I am just a classicallytrained singer whose heart was following the beautiful melodiesthat found me through family and friends and wandering aroundthe world.

I have had such incredible joy recording this album – which wasdone mostly in one or two takes, on an absolutely minimallyedited basis – and I thank Mary, Dean, Lynnelle, Marcus andEmily for their creativity and for going with the flow. All of thearrangements on this album were improvised in the studio. No-one had written music. For a classical musician, who spends herlife studying fly specks on paper, this, in itself, is a miracle.

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1 Star of the County Down 2’00Traditional. Harp arrangement by Emily Rosner. Fiddle arrangement by Marcus Holden.

2 The Cliffs of Dooneen 4’14Traditional. Harp arrangement by Mary Doumany. Whistle arrangement by Lynnelle Moran.

3 Peggy Gordon 4’25Traditional. Harp arrangement by Mary Doumany.

4 Ballinderry 2’56Traditional. Piano arrangement by Dean Sky-Lucas.

5 The Last Rose of Summer 4’19Traditional melody set by Sir John Stevenson. Harp arrangement by Mary Doumany. Flute arrangement by Lynnelle Moran.Words by Thomas Moore.

6 The Old Turf Fire 1’37Traditional. Harp arrangement by Mary Doumany. Flute arrangement by Lynnelle Moran.

7 Fhir an Bhata (The Boatman) 4’50Traditional lament. Harp arrangement by Mary Doumany. Whistle arrangement by Lynnelle Moran.

8 Down by the Salley Gardens 3’09Traditional melody, Gort na Saileán. Piano arrangement by Dean Sky-Lucas.Words by William Butler Yeats.

9 The Snowy-Breasted Pearl 4’19Piano arrangement by Dean Sky-Lucas.

0 The Leprechaun 1’01Traditional. Piano arrangement by Dean Sky-Lucas.

! Carrigdhoun 4’03Traditional lament, ‘The Lament of the Irish Maiden’. Harp arrangement by Mary Doumany. Words by Denny Lane.

@ A Pretty Maid Milking Her Cow 1’35Traditional, ‘The Song o’ Ruark’. Piano arrangement by Dean Sky-Lucas.

£ The Frog’s Wedding 2’01Traditional. Harp arrangement by Mary Doumany.

$ The Little Red Lark 3’26Traditional air, An Fhuiseoigín Rua. Piano arrangement by Dean Sky-Lucas.Words by Alfred Perceval Graves.

% Carrickfergus 5’29Traditional. Harp arrangement by Mary Doumany.

^ Galway Bay 2’01Dr Arthur Colahan. Harp arrangement Emily Rosner. Fiddle arrangement by Marcus Holden.

Total Playing Time 53’02

Annalisa Kerrigan vocals

Mary Doumany harp 2, 3, 5-7, !, £, %Emily Rosner harp 1, ^

Dean Sky-Lucas piano 4, 8-0, @, $Lynnelle Moran Baroque flute, tin whistle 2, 5, 6, 7

Marcus Holden fiddle 1, ^

Dedicated to our beloved Professor Antonio Moretti-Panantidanzante in un cielo terso – dancing in a limpid sky

(from a poem by Claudia Moretti-Pananti)

and to John Dingle

both of whom gave so much to so many.

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1 Star of the County DownI first heard this song when I was a younggirl, sung by John McCormack.

Near to Banbridge Town On the County Down On a morning in July, Down a Boreen Green Came a sweet colleen And she smiled as she passed me by.

Oh, she looked so neat From her two bare feet To the sheen of her nut-brown hair, Such a coaxing elf –I’d shake myself To make sure I was really there.

Oh, from Bantry Bay Up to Derry QuayAnd from Galway to Dublin TownNo maid I’ve seen Like the brown colleenThat I met in the County Down

As she onward sped I scratched my headAnd I gazed with a feeling rare,There I said, said I, To a passer-by:‘Who’s the maid with the nut-brown hair?’

Oh, he smiled at me, And he said, said he,

‘That’s the gem of Ireland’s crown, Young Rosie McCann From the banks of the Bann –She’s the star of the County Down.’

At the Harvest Fair She’ll be surely there So I’ll dress in my Sunday clothes, With my shoes shone bright And my hat cut right On the heart of the nut-brown rose.

No pipe I’ll smoke, No horse I’ll yoke,Though my plough with rust turn brown,Till a smiling bride –By my own fireside –Sits the star of the County Down.

Oh, from Bantry Bay Up to Derry QuayAnd from Galway to Dublin Town,No maid I’ve seen Like the brown colleenThat I met in the County Down.

2 The Cliffs of DooneenInterestingly enough, while Dooneen is inCounty Cork, Kilkee and Kilrush are inCounty Clare. I wonder if the Cliffs ofDooneen refer to Doonaha, but having neverbeen to Doonaha, I’m not sure, although Icannot find anyone who can verify thatKilkee and Kilrush can be seen from

Doonaha either. But this overall feeling ofleaving a much-loved country, on a verypersonal level, is exactly how I feelwhenever I have to leave my favourite walkin the world, the cliffs above the Old Abbeyat Derrynane, Kerry.

You may travel far, far from your own native home,

Far away o’er the mountains, far away o’er the foam,

But of all the fine places that I’ve ever seen, Well there’s none can compare with the

cliffs of Dooneen.

Take a view o’er the mountains, fine sights you’ll see there,

You’ll see the high rocky mountains on the west coast of Clare,

And the towns of Kilkee and Kilrush can be seen

From the high rocky slopes of the cliffs of Dooneen.

It’s a nice place to be on a fine summer’s day, And to see the wild flowers that ne’er do decay, And the hare and the pheasant are plain

to be seen Making homes for their young, round the

cliffs of Dooneen.

Fare thee well, to Dooneen, fare thee well for a while,

And to all the fine people I’m leaving behind,To the streams and the meadows where

late I have been And the high rocky slopes of the cliffs

of Dooneen.

3 Peggy Gordon Peggy Gordon is actually a traditionalScottish song that was adopted by the Irishfolk world after Luke Kelly’s legendaryrecording with The Dubliners.

O Peggy Gordon, you are my darling,Come sit you down upon my kneeAnd tell to me the very reasonWhy I am slighted so by thee.

I wish I was in some lonesome valleyWhere womankind cannot be found,Where little birds sing upon branchesAnd every moment, a different sound.

I’m so in love that I can’t deny it;My heart lies smothered in your breast.But it’s not for you to let the world know it; A troubled mind can know no rest.

I put my head to a cask of brandy,It was my fancy, I do declare,For when I’m drinking, I’m always thinking And wishing Peggy Gordon was here.

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4 BallinderryThis was published in Nancy Calthorpe’scollections; she notes that Edward Buntinggot the song from Doctor Crawford in 1808.The name Ballinderry comes from the IrishBaile an Doire or ‘Town of the Oak Wood’. It is in Londonderry, not far from Belfast.Little Ram’s Island, with its beautiful mix ofmature trees, is about a mile off-shore fromSandy Bay on Lough Neagh, and can still bevisited by boat.

’Twas pretty to be in Ballinderry,’Twas pretty to be in Arghalee,But prettier to be in Little Ram’s Island Sitting under an ivy tree.

’Twas often I roamed in Little Ram’s Island,Side by side with Phelimy Hyland.Often he’d court me and I’d be coy Tho’ at heart I loved him, my handsome boy.

Ochone, ochone,Ochone, ochone!

‘I’m going,’ he sighed, ‘from Ballinderry Out and across the stormy sea. So if in your heart you love me, Mary, Open your arms at last to me!’

I opened my arms, how well he knew me,Opened my arms and took him to me;There in the gloom of the groaning mastWe kissed our first and we kissed our last!

’Twas happy to be in Little Ram’s IslandBut now ‘tis sad, as sad can be,For the ship that sailed with Phelimy Hyland Is sunk forever beneath the sea.

’Tis oh but I wear the weeping willowAnd wonder alone by lonesome billowAnd cry to him over the cruel sea:‘Ah Phelimy Hyland, come back to me.’

Ochone, ochone,Ochone, ochone!

5 The Last Rose of Summer J.E. Cirlot’s A Dictionary of Symbolsmentions that a ‘single rose is, in essence, asymbol of completion, of consummateachievement and perfection.’

I learnt this song from my mother Pat, whostill sings it about the house.

’Tis the last rose of SummerLeft blooming alone;All her lovely companionsAre faded and gone.No flower of her kindred,No rosebud is nighTo reflect back her blushesOr give sigh for sigh.

I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one,To pine on the stem:Since the lovely are sleeping,Go sleep thou with them.

Thus kindly I scatterThy leaves over the bedWhere thy mates of the gardenLie scentless and dead.

6 The Old Turf FireI love it when you’ve been to Ireland and youcome home by train and plane and boat andtaxi and end up opening your suitcase,thousands of kilometres away, and get awonderful waft of peat smoke that’s clingingto your clothes. This song indicates thebeautiful nature of this Irish woman, contentto live her life and understanding that thereare things far more important than grandhouses and a grand way of living. I wish theworld were more like that today.

Oh, the old turf fire and the house swept clean,

There is no-one half as happy as myself and Paddy Keane,

With the baby in the cradle you could hear her mammy say,

‘Wouldn’t you go to sleep, Alanna, till I wet your daddy’s tae.’

Oh, the man that I work for is a richer man than me

But somehow in this world, faith, we never can agree.

He has big towering mansions and castles overall

But I’m sure I wouldn’t exchange with himmy little marble hall.

I have got a little house and a tidy bit o’ land – You would never see a better on this side

of Knocknachran!I’ve no piano in the corner and no pictures

on the wall But I’m somehow quite contented in my

little marble hall.

Oh, the old turf fire and the house swept clean, There is no-one half as happy as myself and

Paddy Keane, With the baby in the cradle you could hear

her mammy say, ‘Wouldn’t you go to sleep, Alanna, till I wet

your daddy’s tae.’

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8 Down by the Salley GardensThis was first known as a traditional Irishmelody An Traigh Mughdhorna or ‘The Maidsof Mourne’. Yeats wrote that it is ‘an attemptto reconstruct an old song from three linesimperfectly remembered by an old peasantwoman in the village of Ballysodare, Sligo,who often sings them to herself’.

Herbert Hughes set the music to the air ‘The Maids of the Mourne Shore’ in 1909.The word ‘salley’ comes from the wordsaileach, or ‘willow’. Salley Gardens –gardens of willows that were used forbasket making and thatch roofing – wereonce quite common throughout Ireland.

Down by the Salley GardensMy love and I did meet.She passed the Salley GardensWith little snow white feet.She bid me take love easy,As the leaves grow on the tree,But I being young and foolishWith her would not agree.

In a field down by the river,My love and I did stand.And on my leaning shoulderShe laid her snow white hand.She bid me take life easy,As the grass grows on the weirs,But I was young and foolish –And now am full of tears.

9 The Snowy-Breasted PearlMade famous by John McCormack, thissong was translated by Dr George Petriefrom the Irish song, Parla an BhrollaighBháin. In these modern times, the words tothis song might seem out of date to some.The depiction of a submissive wife, ‘artlessas a child’, should not be encouraged in any way.

I believe, though, that the words, and themelody, also depict a man who is utterly inlove with this woman, and equallysubmissive, given his soft and gentleobservations of her, and his genuine grief ather loss. The disease she died from wecould surmise to be tuberculosis, a conditionthat I was treated for, in Melbourne, at theage of 21.

Oh, she is not like the rose,That proud in beauty glows,And boasted that she’s so wondrous fair.But she is like the violet blue:Ever modest, ever true,From her leafy bower perfuming the still

night air.Oh, she’s gentle, loving, mild,She’s artless as a child,Her clustering tresses softly flowing down.I’ll love thee ever more,Sweet Cailleen og asthore,My true love, my snowy-breasted Pearl.

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7 Fhir an Bhata (The Boatman)In Irish Gaelic, the title translates as ‘The Man with a Walking Stick’, and in Scottish Gaelic, ‘TheBoatman’. This traditional melody is claimed by both sides of the Irish Sea, but I found a version ina library in Pittlochrie dedicated to the coronation of Queen Victoria, and that is the earliest printversion I have been able to find. Either way, it crosses the water very well. And I imagine the girlwho lost her love is still waiting there on the cliff.

A fhir a bháta is na horó eile Man of the boat and no one elseMo shoraidh slan lait gach ait dtéid tú A hundred thousand welcomes everywhere

you go

Theid mé suas ar an chnoc is airde I went up to the highest hill to seeFeach a bhfeic mé an fear a bháta if I could see the man of the boatAn dtig tú anocht nó an dtig tú amarach? Will you come tonight or come tomorrow?Muna dtig tú idir is trua atá mé If you do not come between, it’s sad I’ll be

Tá mo chroíse briste bruite My heart is bruised and brokenIs tric na deoir a’ruith o mo shuíle and tears flow from my eyesAn dtig tú inniú nó am bidh me suillean? Will you come today or will I expect you?No an druid mé an doras le osna tuirseach? Or will I close the door with a tired sigh?

Thug mé gaol duit is chan fhéad mé ‘athrú, I gave you love, I could not deny itCha gaol bliana is cha gaol ráithe I yearned for you for a year and a seasonAch gaol ó thoiseacht nuair bha mé ‘mo pháiste since ever I was a childIs nach seasc a choiche mé gus cloigh’ an bás mé. Now I’ll stay a virgin until I die

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! CarrigdhounThis song tells the story of a woman wholost her loved one during the flight ofSarsfield’s ‘Wild Geese’, who, after defeat atthe Battle of the Boyne, chose to leaveIreland as exiles and fight in France. SeanO’Failain wrote: ‘The wild geese come intheir thousands with the October moon.They blacken the sky and they cry thecoming of Autumn... About the estuary ofthe Shannon, and all up the river intoLimerick, they must have whizzed andmoaned, that winter of 1691, when Ginkeloffered the terms that ended the JacobiteWar, and started bitter quarrels among thetired and tattered Irish. The flyingIrish...looked up at the skies, and took thename, The Wild Geese. It was the end of aperiod. It was all but the end of a race.’

The heath was green on Carrigdhoun,Bright shone the sun over Ardnalee,The dark green trees bent trembling down To kiss the slumbering Own na buidhe. That happy day – was but last May – ’Tis like a dream to me, When Donal swore, aye, o’er and o’er, ‘We’d part no more a sthór mo croidhe... ’

On Carrigdhoun, the heath is brown,The clouds are dark over Ardnalee,And many a stream comes rushing downTo swell the angry Own na buidhe.

The moaning blast is sweeping pastThrough many a leafless tree,But I’m alone, for he is gone,My hawk has flown ochone mo chroidhe.

Soft April showers and bright May flowers Will bring the summer back again, But will they bring me back the hours I spent with my brave Donal then?It’s but a chance, he’s gone to FranceTo wear the Fleur-de-Lis,But I’ll follow you, my Donal DhuFor still I’m true to you mo croidhe.

(a sthór mo croidhe = my heart's darling;ochone mo croidhe = alas, my heart)

@ A Pretty Maid Milking Her CowThis song appears in Thomas Moore’s IrishMelodies, published by Boosey and Co in1895. Moore took a large number oftraditional melodies and set English words tothem. These words are a somewhat loosetranslation of the original song, Cailin deasag crute na mBo (or Cailleen dhas cruthennamoe), ‘A pretty girl milking a cow’, and areattributed to Thomas Moore as well.

It was on a fine summer’s morning,The birds sweetly tuned on each bough,And as I walked out for my pleasureI saw a maid milking her cow.

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If I sigh, a sudden fearComes o’er her, and a tearStands quivering within her downcast eyes.When I smile, those orbs of azureGleam forth with love and pleasureLike sudden glory bursting through a

clouded sky.Oh, I claim her for my bride;She trembles at my side,And gently lifts her eyes with looks so tender.I’ll love thee, only thee,My Cailleen og machree,My true love, my snowy-breasted Pearl.

Such was she, but oh, a change,How mournful and how strange,On my loved one, my snowy loved one came:Paler still her pale cheek grew,And her eyes of azure hueSeemed lighted with a flame, a fatal

wasting flame.Oh, we laid her in her graveWhere the willows sadly waveAnd the hollow winds are sighing a

plaintive wail…I’m alone, alone, alone.So wearily I moanFor my lost love, my snowy-breasted Pearl.

0 The LeprechaunNow I know, logically speaking, leprechaunsdon’t exist. But there is a very large part ofme that thinks they might really be there,hanging around with the fairies at thebottom of the garden. At least, I’d like tothink they do, don’t you?

In a shady nook one moonlight nightA leprechaun I spiedWith scarlet cap and coat of green, A cruiskeen by his side.’Twas tic tic tac his hammer went Upon a weeny shoe.And I laughed to think of a purse of gold But the fairy was laughing too!

With tiptoe step and beating heartQuite softly I drew nigh,There was mischief in his merry face,A twinkle in his eye.He hammered and sang with tiny voiceAnd drank his mountain dewAnd I laughed to think he was caught at last, But the fairy was laughing too.

As quick as thought, I seized the elf,‘Your fairy purse!’ I cried.‘The purse,’ he said, ‘is in her hand,That lady by your side!’I turned to look – the elf was off,Then what was I to do?Oh, I laughed to think what a fool I’d been And the fairy was laughing too!

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$ The Little Red LarkThis is a traditional Irish melody that hasGaelic wording, but I have chosen to sing itin English because that’s the version mymother taught me.

O Swan of slenderness,Dove of tenderness,Jewel of joys, arise!The little red lark,Like a soaring spark,A song to his sunburst flies!

But till thou’rt risen,Earth is a prison,Full of my lonesome sighs;Then awake, and discoverTo thy fond loverThe morn of thy matchless eyes!

The dawn is dark to me,Hark, oh hark to me,Pulse of my heart, I pray;And out of thy hiding,With blushes glidingDazzle me with thy day!

Ah, then once more to theeFlying I’ll pour to theePassion so sweet and gay.The lark shall listenAnd dewdrops glisten,They’re laughing on every spray!

% CarrickfergusCarrickfergus was known as CarraigFhearghais, or ‘Rock of Fergus’, home of a12th-century castle on the Belfast Lough. It is a haunting place of great historicalimportance for the country, being the site ofsuch battles as the Battle of Carrickfergusduring the Nine Years War.

Carrickfergus became famous after DominicBehan recorded it, and the words of themiddle verse have been attributed to PeterO’Toole – or perhaps he just passed them on to Behan.

I wish I was in CarrickfergusOnly for nights in Ballygran,I would swim over the deepest ocean,The deepest ocean for my love to find.

But the sea is wide and I can’t swim over And neither have I the wings to fly...If I could find me a handsome boatmanTo ferry me over to my love and die.

My childhood days bring sad reflectionsOf happy times spent so long ago.My boyhood friends and my own relationsHave all passed on now, like the melting snow.

But I’ll spend my days in endless roaming: Soft is the grass, my bed is free!Ah, to be back now in CarrickfergusOn that long road down to the sea.

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Her voice, so enchanting, melodious,Left me quite unable to go;My heart it was loaded with sorrowFor cailleen dhas cruthen namoe.

Then to her I made my advances:‘Good morrow, most beautiful maid,‘Your beauty my heart so entrances.’‘Pray Sir, do not banter,’ she said.

‘I’m not such a rare precious jewelThat I should enamour you so,I am but a poor little milk girl,’Says cailleen dhas cruthen namoe.

‘The Indies afford no such jewels,So bright and transparently clear.Ah, do not add flame to my fuel,Consent but to love me, my dear!’

‘Ah, had I the lamp of AladdinOr the wealth of the African shore,I would rather be poor in a cottageWith cailleen dhas cruthen namoe.’

£ The Frog’s WeddingI first heard this sung by the incandescentMary O’Hara. There are many differentlegends connected to this song; some say itwas about a Catholic man – the frog – whogot caught trying to marry a Protestant lass– the butterfly – and they were caught bythe Guards. He escaped only to be drownedin a river. Like Mary O’Hara, I chose to leave

out the traditional penultimate verse, which Ifound rather horrid.

There was a frog lived in the well, ‘Haigh ho!’ said Roly There was a frog lived in the well, And a merry mouse in the Dell.With me Roly Poly Cabbage and Spinach and Haigh! For Anthony Roly!”

Said the frog, ‘I must go court, With my bayonet and my sword.’

‘Where will the wedding be?’‘At the butt of an ivy tree.’

‘Now we’re all in very good cheer, If we had some music here!’

In came the bumble bee, Clapped a bagpipe on his knee.

‘Now we’re all in very good cheer, If we had some dancing here!’

In came the butterfly, Swore she’d dance until she’d die.

Then commenced a terrible din, The cat and her kittens came tumbling in.

Frog jumped up with a terrible fright, And doffed his hat and said, ‘Good night!’

As the Frog was crossing the stream, A big duck came and gobobbled him up.

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And in Kilkenny, it is reported,Are marble stones there, as black as ink. With gold and silver I would support her, But I’ll sing no more till I get a drink.

For I’m drunk today, and I’m seldom sober: A handsome rover, from town to town. Ah, but I’m sick now, and my days

are numbered, So come all ye young men, and lay me down.

^ Galway BayThis song is a perfect example of the musicof the Irish diaspora – the scattereddescendants of Irishmen and women, whotend to know and love the more sentimental‘non-folk’ songs like Galway Bay as well asmore traditional music. The interesting thingis, when I sang this to a wonderful audiencein County Meath, apparently (and I say thisnot in arrogance but more in perplexity)there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Sothere you go...and if you’ve ever sat onGalway Bay, and watched the sun go down,perhaps you’ll understand why.

If you ever go across the sea to Ireland, Then maybe at the closing of your day You will sit and watch the moon rise

over Claddagh And see the sun go down on Galway Bay.

Just to hear again the ripple of a trout stream, The women in the meadows making hay,And to sit beside the turf fire in the cabin, And watch the barefoot gossoons at their play.

For the breezes blowing o’er the seas from Ireland

Are perfumed by the heather as they blow And the women in the uplands digging praties Speak a language that the strangers do

not know.

For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way;

They scorned us just for being what we are. But they might as well go chasing after

moonbeams Or light a penny candle from a star.

And if there is going to be a life hereafter, And somehow I am sure there’s going to be, I will ask God to let me make my heaven In that dear land across the Irish Sea.

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Hanoi. She believes passionately in empoweringwomen in third world countries to build theirindependence, their education and confidence insmall business, allowing them to educate theirfamilies and build communities.

www.annalisakerrigan.com

Mary Doumany Mary Doumany is a virtuoso harpist in her ownright; she also composes and sings her ownmaterial. Her voice has an intimacy and fluiditythat seem effortless and there is a uniquefreedom to her interpretations.

She is one of a new breed of Australian cross-genre artists who incorporate influences frommany styles and traditions to create their music.This is very much in evidence on her 2004 albumof original solo harp works, entitled Elemental.She is passionate about exploring anddemonstrating the versatility of the harp, andrelishes the excitement and freedom ofimprovisation as an essential element of her work.

www.marydoumany.com

Emily RosnerEmily Rosner began her studies in classical harpat the age of 12; her teachers have includedRosemary St John, Xanya Shepherd, MaryDoumany and jazz harpist Park Stickney.

She has performed in many different styles; herlove of the instrument’s individuality and

diversity is displayed in her work with cellist AdiSappir and percussionist Talia Browne in theBurgundy Brown trio, exploring a fusion ofmiddle-eastern melodies, African drumming andintense vocal harmonies. Her improvisationalskills have been taken to a new level withSunwrae, a three to nine piece ensembledirected by Rae Howell, whose style can bedescribed as cinematic orchestral, minimalist,jazz and modern chamber. Sunwrae have recentlytoured eastern Australia, and release their fourthalbum in 2008. Appearances at the Boîte inMelbourne, with Jade, Sunwrae and as part ofthe Jewish Music Festival, are testimony to herkeen involvement with the world/folk scene.

Solo engagements have included the MelbournePhilharmonic Orchestra’s Irish Songs of Praise.Emily is also a composer; an EP of her originalharp music, Oscillator, is planned for 2008.Previous recordings include Red Cross Store withblues/country singer Lisa Miller, Autumn NeverFall with Sunwrae and Irish Songs of Praise withAnnalisa Kerrigan and Marcus Holden.

Dean Sky-LucasDean Sky-Lucas performs as soloist andchamber musician throughout Australia andabroad. He is widely known to Australianaudiences through numerous nationalbroadcasts on ABC Classic FM’s Sunday Liveand Radio National, as well as frequent festivalengagments,including the Melbourne, Adelaide

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Annalisa KerriganAnnalisa Kerrigan studied at the Victorian Collegeof the Arts and the University of Melbournebefore moving to Tuscany to work and study forsix years. She has appeared in concert incountries across Europe and Asia, including Italy,France, the UK, Ireland and Singapore; inAustralia, she appears regularly in opera andconcert performances and has been a featuredartist at many major community events includingChannel 9’s Carols by Candlelight, the TamworthCountry Music Festival, the World Cup Rugbyseries and the Formula 1 Grand Prix.

From tiny country towns like Kangaroo Valley andColac Otway to the Sydney Opera House andthe Sidney Myer Music Bowl in Melbourne; from the middle of Ponte Vecchio in her adoptedhometown of Florence to the ancient IrishCastle Tullynally, Annalisa has charmedaudiences with her sense of humour, her love of music and of people, and her radiant, purevoice, receiving standing ovations throughoutthe world.

Highlights have included engagements with theLondon City Orchestra under Richard Bonynge,the Melbourne, Tasmanian, Adelaide and WestAustralian Symphony Orchestras (Scotland theBrave), the RAAF Central and Command Bands,Melbourne’s Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (IrishSongs of Praise), the Melbourne Opera

Company (Despina in Così fan tutte) andOrchestra Victoria (Opera in the Market). She hastoured with the elite chamber musicians VirtuosiTasmania and with Aled Jones, performed as aguest of the Prime Minister of Singapore, sungthe role of Eliza in a touring production of My Fair Lady, and appeared at the MelbourneInternational Festival as The Princess in Ravel’sL’Enfant et les Sortilèges. Other performanceshave included concerts at Parliament House inCanberra, the Victorian State Parliament and theAustralian Export Awards, Opera in the Roses,Opera in the Vineyards and Opera in the Winery,and appearances on television program GoodMorning Australia. In 2000 Annalisa was afinalist in the International Mozart Competition in Salzburg.

Annalisa’s debut album Waiting on an Angel,released on the ABC Classics label in 2005,went to number one on the classical charts andremained in the top ten for six weeks.

Annalisa supports the work of the AustralianFederation for the Peoples of Asia and thePacific (www.afap.org), raising money to set upco-operative partnerships for women’s smallbusinesses in AIDS-stricken areas of Africa,supporting HIV awareness, several schools,orphanages and business start ups. In VietnamAnnalisa helped AFAP’s dengue preventionproject in areas where victims of Typhoon Durianin the Mekong Delta were left homeless, as wellas helping to address HIV risk among youth in

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and Brisbane International Festivals. During2004, Dean performed the role of the singingpianist in ChamberMade opera’s Recitalthroughout its Melbourne season as well as ontour in Victoria and in the USA.

Dean was associate artist with the AustralianNational Academy of Music for four years. Hehas been the vocal coach and repetiteur toAustralia’s most acclaimed opera singersincluding Rosamund Illing, Ghillian Sullivan,Roxanne Hislop, Suzanne Johnston and DavidHobson. Since the founding of Victorian Opera in 2006 Dean has coached the Young Artists ofthe company; he also acted as the PrincipalRepetiteur for the 2007 season’s openingpresentation of Stravinsky’s Oedipus Rexand Les Noces.

Dean lectured in psychology and physiology formusicians at the Melba Conservatorium overfour years, and during 2006 he lectured in pianoaccompaniment at the University of Melbourne.

Lynnelle MoranLynnelle Moran was born in Dublin and raised inAustralia. The youngest of a large Irish family,she has been surrounded by the songs ofIreland since childhood and she has carried alove and understanding of traditional Irish musicinto adulthood. Lynnelle has performedprofessionally for several years, performing andrecording on flutes and tin whistle for a diverse

range of artists, orchestras, festivals andsoundtracks. Whilst concert performance is aconstant highlight, Lynnelle treasures thespontaneity of the tradition, savouring themoments of playing tunes with friends and family.

Marcus Holden Marcus Holden began studying the violin at theage of eight, and was a member of the CanberraYouth Orchestra from the age of 11, culminatingin a tour of Europe. In his late teens his interestin rock, jazz and blues was sparked by the newlyamplified violin and his career as a soloist began.Moving to Sydney in 1979 to study jazz at theNSW Conservatorium of Music, Marcus quicklybecame the city’s premier fiddle session player,recording well over 400 award-winning records,films and jingles, working with such artists asJimmy Barnes, Ross Wilson, Diesel, MarcHunter, Ross Ryan, John Williamson, RichardClapton and Daryl Braithwaite.

With Ray Schloeffel, Pixie Jenkins and AndrewClermont, Marcus formed the Fiddlers Festival;under his guidance the Fiddlers Feast, as thegroup is now known, has become the mostwidely recognised fiddle band in Australia. Several tours to Japan and Europe, as well ashigh profile appearances back home, haveinspired a new generation of fiddlers and groups– the Hawkesbury National Fiddle Festival,Southern Cross Fiddlers, the Golden FiddleAwards (www.goldenfiddleawards.org.au) –

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▲ EMILY ROSNER LYNNELLE MORAN ▼

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dedicated to the promotion of the fiddle, as analternative to the classical stream of tuition andperformance. More recently, Marcus hasreturned to orchestral performance as a soloistin Scotland the Brave, appearing with theAuckland and Toronto Philharmonic Orchestras,and the West Australian, Melbourne, Tasmanianand Adelaide Symphony Orchestras.

Marcus is also a composer, producer, recordingengineer, and operator of Bloody Dog Studios,where he produces much of his own recentwork including the Fiddlers Feast CDs.

www.fiddlersfestival.com

Executive Producers Robert Patterson, Martin BuzacottRecording Producer Annalisa KerriganRecording Engineer, Editor and Mastering

Malcolm StanleyEditorial and Production Manager Hilary ShrubbPublications Editor Natalie SheaBooklet Design Imagecorp Pty LtdPhotography (Annalisa Kerrigan) Susan Gordon-Brown www.susangordonbrown.com.au Dresses Linda BrittenAnnotations Annalisa Kerrigan

Recorded September 2006 and February–March2007 in the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’sSouthbank Studios, Melbourne.

With my heart-felt thanks to all who have helped onthe journey:

The Moretti-Pananti family – Antonio, Halina andClaudia, who will always be in my heart; my owncrazy, fantastic, and incredible Eng family; JohnDingle, William May, Malcolm Cooke, Mary O’Hara,John, Marcia and Sara Wertheimer, Moira,Christopher and Jessica Fortune Ryan, Angela andJason Wasley, Joe Cropp, Rocco Tullio, AengusDewar, Joshua Brohier, Lindsay Saddington, MalStanley, Linda Britten, Susan Gordon Brown, DavidKram, Mossie Scanlon; Mass Tommy Hija and my PDfamily, who have made struggle a joy; Reggie andChloe Stewart and their beautiful family; GrandmaHogan, Anthony Polshinger; Nellie and Anita Castan– sometimes kind words are everything; IreneHendel, for introducing me to our beloved Bill; JeffWeaver, Soon Lee Lee, the Ludwigs and the Thewesfamily; Dianne Drew and the Tamworth AFAPCommittee; and most of all, to the most wonderfulmusicians who worked on this recording with me –how fortunate I am to have such friends – Dean Sky-Lucas, Mary Doumany, Lynnelle Moran, EmilyRosner and Marcus Holden. Thank you.

– Annalisa Kerrigan

ABC Classics thanks Alexandra Alewood and Melissa Kennedy.

� 2008 Australian Broadcasting Corporation. © 2008 Australian Broadcasting Corporation. Distributed inAustralia and New Zealand by Universal Music Group, underexclusive licence. Made in Australia. All rights of the owner ofcopyright reserved. Any copying, renting, lending, diffusion,public performance or broadcast of this record without theauthority of the copyright owner is prohibited.

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