Live at St James' Church, Dingle - TARA 4022
Béal Tuinne
Album Sleevenotes

 

Tracks

 
Audio Samples
(1)

Cuairteóir

(2) Bealtaine na Maighdine
(3) Nell Sé, Bean Jack
(4) Fearaibh na bhFeoibh
(5) Spraoí
(6) Dán Lae Breithe
(7) Bás Mrs. Price
(8) Lá Éigin Fadó Fadó
(9) Díbeartach
(10) Dúlamán (Idir Seo is Sin)
(11) Briotánach Óg ó L'Orient
(12) Cois Laoí
(13) Ciúmhais Charraig Aonair
(14) Ar Muir San Oíche
(15)

Scáil na Lasrach

 

 
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Album
Format
Voices From The Merry Cemetery
The Brendan Voyage
Granuaile
The Relief of Derry Symphony
Béal Tuinne - Live at St James Church Dingle
The Pilgrim
May We Never Have To Say Goodbye

 

Sleevenotes & Audio Clips
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Sleeve Notes

Seamus Begley, button accordion and vocals;
Rita Connolly, vocals and guitar;
Lawrence Courtney
, vocals and banjo;
Eilis Kennedy
, vocals and whistle;
Jim Murray
, guitar;
Eoin Begley
, concertina and button accordion;
Shaun Davey
, pedal harmonium
and vocals with honorary member; Daithi O'Se, vocals.

The songs on this album are based on poems in Irish by Caoimhín Ó Cinnéide, with music by Shaun Davey and performed by a unique group of West Kerry traditional musicians and singers.
'Béal Tuinne' (pronounced Beel Thinneh) literally means 'Mouth of the Wave' and refers to the bow-wave of a boat.

Music copyright Shaun Davey. Lyrics copyright Edna Uí Chinnéide.

Album recorded by Brian Masterson, assisted by Maria Fitzgerald.
Sleeve design by Richard Smallwood
Photography by Siobhan Dempsey
Poem notes by Lorcán Ó Cinnéide
Special thanks to Máire Uí Bheaglaoích, Edna Uí Chinnéide, Dairena Ní Chinnéide, Phillip King, Tom Sherlock, Laura Murtagh, Tina Moran, John Benny Moriarty, Micheál Fanning, Tim Edey, Ronan Byrne, Steve Coulter.
With grateful acknowledgment of assistance from RTÉ, South Wind Blows and BCI
With thanks to St James' Church, Dingle, where the album was recorded live in concert for the series An Droichead Beo / The Living Bridge.
Fothar na Manach, the collection of poems by Caoimhín Ó Cinnéide, is published by Coiscéim.

Music copyright Shaun Davey. Lyrics copyright Edna Uí Chinnéide.
Publishing administered by Bucks Music.
An English translation of the lyrics and additional information is available at bealtuinne.com.

The songs on this album are from a small village, west of Dingle in Co. Kerry, which lies between the wild grandeur of Mount Brandon and the booming Atlantic over the brow of the hill. It is a place where music and community go together, music serving as a collective bond, and where the distinction is blurred between amateur and professional musician. As a composer I was keen to work amidst a music of this kind, to share the experience with our neighbour, the legendary box-player and sweet singer of soaring traditional melodies, Séamus Begley, to hear the equally wonderful singing of my wife, Rita, and to realise an ambition to play a pedal harmonium in their company.
The music I could do. But the songs needed special lyrics, words grounded in the Gaeltacht of the community. Séamus's wife Mary put her finger on their precise location, a book of poems, 'Fothar na Manach', written by schoolteacher Caoimhín Ó Cinnéide, published shortly after his death and by this time out of print. She introduced me to the poet's wife, Edna, who, with her family, gave permission and enduring support for the attempt to convert her husbands legacy into song. Thus I embarked on a journey through the thoughts and emotions of a man to whom, had he been still alive, I would have been neighbour, three houses away.
Typically the poems convey a man on the outside of the parish, looking in. At times conferring heroic status on neighbours, while fishing or rescuing a survivor from shipwreck; at others there is leg-pulling typical of a close-knit community. Occasionally the poet ventures further afield, nowhere more poignantly than when at sea, rounding Carraig Aonair (the Fastnet Rock), or lamenting the fate of the exile, far from home in the building sites of Chicago. Sometimes he is solitary, as during a night-time vigil out in the bay, reflecting on those who drowned. Always Caoimhín seems to have placed his poetry at the service of his neighbours, ready to console and reassure in times of bereavement, or to chronicle the birthdays of his own beloved family.
The poems of Caoimhín Ó Cinnéide are already musical; he was known as a fine singer, and his own song, 'Marbhna Thomás Aghais' is still sung by his pupil, Séamus Begley. To our great delight Caoimhín's daughter, singer and whistle-player, Éilís agreed to join our line-up. As we began to investigate the potential of the songs, another key member came aboard, singer, banjo-player and man of the sea, Lawrence Courtney, and Séamus's son Eoin with his box and concertina-playing skills. When he was home from work with TG4, the cheerful and talented Dáithí Ó Sé boosted our vocals. For our first performance in 'Féile na Bealtaine" we were joined by guitarist Tim Edey.
Later, and on this recording, we had the pleasure of working with Jim Murray. Edna gave the band it's name, after one of Caoimhín's boats, 'Beal Tuinne'.
Composing the music I was aware of the character and individuality of this group of singers and musicians. I knew the generosity with which they would approach many hours of trial and rehearsal. Led by Séamus, to whom I express my gratitude, they also ensured it was fun and truly companionable. This album is the result, recorded live in St. James's Church, Dingle, in the company of a special audience; Caoimhín's family and the community of Parish of Moor, for whom and about whom the original poems were written.
Shaun Davey


Bhí sé de ádh orm go raibh Caoímhín Ó Cinnéide am' mhúineadh is mé ag dul ar scoil. Amhránaí iontach bínn ab' ea é agus na hamhráín a mhúin sé dúinn bhí gach ceann níos deise ná a chéile. Mhúscail sé suim an cheoil agus na n-amhrán ionam agus mé ana óg. Beidh meas agus cuimhne agam air go deo dá bharr san.
Bhuaileas le Shaun Davey blianta beaga ó shin. Cumadóir ceoil den scoth is ea é. Tá saibhreas iontach ceoil aige agus tagann gach nóta óna chroí amach. Dhein sé jab thar na bearta ag fuineadh an cheoil le filíocht Chaoímhin agus, ar dhala Chaoímhín, gach ceann níos deise agus níos binne ná a chéile.
Go bhfága Dia againn é ! Séamus Ó Beaglaoí

 

 

Track Notes


1.Cuairteóir - The Visitor
Ar learg na gcnoc
'S m'aghaidh le gréin
Thíar i gCíarraí is mé saor ó phéin
Mo léíne ar oscailt mo bhróga scaoílte
Leabhar faoí mo cheann
Ar shúgán smaointe
Gan chnag, gan chlog
Gan am, gan áiféal
An fhuiseóg go bog
Is mo phíopa im' leathbhéal.
D'éalaíos óm chairde féin
Ó Shráid Uí Chonaill
Is ó uaisle an léinn
Caoimhín, exulting in being home in West Kerry for Summer holidays, free from the limits of time-keeping, of academia, without a care in the world!

2. Bealtaine na Maighdine - Our Lady's May
Bláthanna Bealtaine chughat a Bhanríon
Réalt na bhFhlaitheas
Tú is fonn linn
Séirse ceoil ó lúib na coille
Grastaí uait
Teach 'na dtuile
Scéimh na ngrást
Ar ghleann is ar chluainín
Nuair a dhamhsann ann an t-uanín.

Dathanna molta Muire Máthar
Dhein an nádúr duit a sholathar
Fuiseóg foinn bhinn
Binneas cuaiche
Laetha gréíne
Síolta is luaithe
Bláthanna Bealtaine chughat a Bhanríon
Réalt na bhFhlaitheas
Tú is fonn linn!

The month of May is traditionally a time of devotion to Mary, Mother of Jesus. This deeply spiritual ode/hymn dedicates the joys of nature in May to Mary - the flowers of Spring, newborn lambs, the songs of the Cuckoo and the Thrush, the seeds planted in the soil and early sunshine. Featuring Séamus


3. Nell Sé, Bean Jack - Nell Shea, Jack's wife
In airde a láin
'S 'na caliín córach
A ghluais sí chughainn
Go Baile an Mhúraigh
Do thóg sí clann
Go deimhin do b'fhiú san
Scriosairí fear
Is mná deas múinte
Ach an solaisín gorm i ndall na hoíche
Thionlaic go mall í
I leaba bheag sínte
B'shin deireadh a ré
Bhí a paidir guíte
I bhFlaitheas geal Dé
Cois na naomh atá suite

A poem written on the passing of Nell Shea, wife of Jack Shea, next door neighbours of Caoimhín and his family, whom he held in great regard . It eulogises her achievements in life, raising a fine family, and mourns her death, the passing of her age and her place in the next life. Sung by Éilís

 

4. Fearaibh na bhFeoibh - Men of the Foze
Scoiltid an tonn
Le maidí na lann
Seo scafairí mhuintir Chinnéide
Lúbaid le luaithe
Cé croíte tá cumha
Faoí ndeara dhóibh brú sa tréanmhuir.
Imithe gan gréim
Mar folamh gach oigheannMná 'ge baile ag caoineadh
Thar Thúr Bhaile Dháth
Siar thar Bhéal Trá
Taoide ag tachtadh a gcroithe.
Ag naoí mile slí tá bealach Fochaisí
Spalladh agus allas ón ngréin bhuí
Ach chuaigh lúbaire groí
Suas faill na Béidrí
Ag solathar greim agus braon dí.
Ar thochtaí 'na suí
Alpadh min seo an Rí
Diúgadh na cannaí go fabharúil
Scaoíleadh faoí dhó faoí bhruacha na bhfeo
Sin aistear a bhí go saothrúil.
Níorbh fhada don líon
Ag luascadh ar an dtuinn
Gur teannadh na téada taobh leo
Pollóga móra groí
Colmóirí bheadh buí
Ballaigh , troisc is píardóga!
Bhí a humar lán suas
Chaithfaí scaoileadh faoin gCuas
Ar bórd leis an líon is away leo
An taoide ag cur uaithi
'S an chóir leo gan suathadh
A gcroíthe ag bualadh le saothar.
Thar scoth Chuasa Bhreandáin
Go bun Leac srutháin
An oiche ag titeam go tréan leo
Caitheadh iasc suas
Is glanadh le luas
Mná agus leanaí 'bhí scléipúil.
Idir rósta is beiriú
'S gan trácht ar an tlú
Níor fágadh ocrach éinne
Beidh trácht air go deo
Lá Fearaibh na bhFeo
'S paróiste ó ocras saortha.

In 1876, a second potato famine gripped Ireland. This poem describes a heroic fishing voyage undertaken by the Ó Cinnéides of Baile na bPoc in search of fish to feed their starving families and neighbours during that time. This was a forty mile round trip in a small canvas covered naomhóg powered only by oars, from the Parish of Moor to the Foze Rocks, southwest of the Blasket Islands. The successful return of the crew with food for family and neighbours is celebrated.

 

5. Spraoí - Fun
In oileánín Tristan de Cunha
Ar saoire do casadh orm Úna
A béilín ba bhinn 's a guth álainn caoin
Do chuir orm crith cos is glúine
Do cheap sí go raibh mise pósta
Mar bhí fáinne na Gaeilge ar mo chóta
Am siesta ón ngréin bhí mo chroí bocht i bpéin
Ar an dtráigh is mo chraiceann dá róstadh
A Phaidín is mé do Senorita!
A Phaidín is mé do Senorita!
'Ge baile ar Lagoon san oiche
Gan fagtha agam pín ná peseta
Ach Úna 'am chrá is í síorraí a rá
A Phaidín is mé do Senorita!

Caoimhín's lifelong friend, Micheál Ó Catháin was the first of their circle to head off on sun holidays. Here, the poet is poking affectionate fun at his friend's escapades, roasting in the sunshine and the delights of imaginary senoritas who might have crossed his path!
Sung by Séamus


6. Dán Lae Breithe - A Birthday Poem
Mar réilthíní na spéire
A thagas iarló
Chun sonas do shoilsiú
Ó spéartha gan cheó
Lonraíonn sibh aoibhneas
Idir oiche agus ló
Ar chlann uile Uí Chinnéide
Go mbaineann sibh leo.

Gura buan díbhse dís
Is bhúr gcreidiúint go deo
A Neasa agus Dairena
A thug dúinn mórshó.
Lonraíonn sibh aoibhneas
Idir oiche agus ló
Ar chlann uile Uí Chinnéide
Go mbaineann sibh leo.

Caoimhín's gift of a birthday poem in honour of his eldest daughter, Neasa and his youngest, Dairena, whom he cherished and in whom he took great pride as he did all his family. Sung by Séamus

 

7. Bás Mrs. Price, 1974 - The Death of Mrs Price, 1974
Faoí scaíl dhubh an bháis
Briseann an croí faoí dheireadh
Ar mháthair óg ón dTuaisceart.
Na garlaigh dís, iníonacha óga
Anois faoí cheo i bpríosún Lincoln.
A Mharian , A Dholorus , Slán go deo

Ní chloinnfidh sibh , ná ní fheicfidh sibh
Torann clochach na cré buí
Ag titeam ar chónra bhúr máthar.
A shaoirse, nach íobairteach
Scaradh clainne is deora faóí.
A Mharian , A Dholorus , Slán go deo

Marian and Dolores Price were IRA prisoners serving long sentences in Lincoln Gaol in 1974 when their mother died. They were refused compassionate leave to attend her funeral. This immensely sad poem is a reflection on the heartbreak and death of Mrs. Price, their desolation at not being present to see her buried and the tragedy of a family rent asunder. Sung by Rita

 

8. Lá Éigin Fadó Fadó - A Day Long Ago
An cuimhin leat an lá san
Dul ar phósadh mhac Risteáirdín
Gan puinn insa mhála ag Carrachánaigh araon!
Fol derol derio Folderol day
Fol derol derio Folderol Folderol day
Síos Barra an Mháma
'S ár seolta sa ghaoth
Bhí amhrán dá rá agat
Ar na hárdaibh gan stró
Nuair a ghaibh leoraí mór brea chughainn
A tharraing suas lenár dtaobh…
Ach scaoíleamar chun fáin é
Mar bheadh 'n iomad don lá 'gainn
'S ár bpinginí scáinte
Ag tabhairneóir Bharra an Ché!
An cuimhin leat an lá san
Dul ar phósadh mhac Risteáirdín
Gan puinn insa mhála ag Carrachánaigh araon!

Caoimhín and his childhood friend Dave Russell refusing a lift to Dingle and enjoying each other's company, preferred to walk the 8 miles to conserve their limited funds lest they arrive too early at the wedding of "Mac Risteardín". A celebration of friendship! Specially composed for Éilís

 

9. Díbeartach - Exile
I measc deataigh Chicago
Is smiota don gcroí
Ar Thúr Bhaile Dháith dhó
Ag smaoineamh 's ag caí
"Droch-chrích ar an ndlí
A sheol chun fáin mé
Is a dhriog mo chroí
Óm thír is óm shláinte"
Suite cois claí
'Fiarú na dtonnta
Barr a chnis buí
'Briseadh le manta
Faoileáin ar sceo
Ag seinneadh cois faille
Suaimhneas is draíocht
Nach trua na daill.
I measc deataigh Chicago
Is smiota don gcroí
Ar Thúr Bhaile Dháith dhó
Ag smaoineamh 's ag caí
Is smiota don gcroí
Tá cloíte ag cathair
A smaointe ag mearaí
Mar bhroigheall ar bhranra
Mallacht ar an ealaoín a sheol óna athair é!
ag fuaireamh fana slí
Seachas treabhadh a bhranair.

The last word of this poem captures its essence - branair - the ploughing of a fallow field. Caoimhín writes of a friend and exile. One feels a certain longing in the way he describes this man exiled in the States, longing for home. This poem was written for Pat Connor from Baile Dháth.
Specially composed for Lawrence

 

10. Dúlamán (Idir Seo is Sin) - Seaweed (Now and Then)
"Féach an uaimh" arsa Seán
"Féach an portán" arsa Síle
"Tóg an chloch", "Seachain an taoide"
Tonnta móra, 'chuirfeadh ort sceimhle
Dúlamán is duileasc
Miongáin 'na mílte
Dúlamán is duileasc
Miongáin 'na mílte
Dúlamán is duileasc
Miongáin 'na mílte
Dúlamán is duileasc
Miongáin 'na mílte
Insan am fadó fadó
Nuair a theip an práta
Do bhailigh leo
Slua cois trá acu
Faireadh an taoide
Chun bia a bhailiú
Dheintí roithleán tine
Chun iad a bheiriú
Dúlamán is duileasc
Miongáin 'na mílte
Dúlamán is duileasc
Miongáin 'na mílte

Long ago, when the potato failed, people in West Kerry took to the seashore to harvest seaweed, periwinkles and other shellfish which kept them alive during the famine. Featuring Séamus

 

11. Briotánach Óg ó L'Orient - A Young Breton from L'Orient
Míobhán na beatha i gcorrán géill an bháis
Féachann sé uaidh síos
Mairnéalach óg ó L'Orient
I ndreap' i bhfaillte Chíarraí.
Aréir in am mharbh na hoiche
Shúncáil a bhád - creachta ag carraig
Sa tsnámh 's suas éadan faille
Stop gallán é i gconair a éalaithe.
Gheal an la dhó ar ionad a thórraimh
Meangadh imearthach na dtonn ar chloch
Ag feitheamh lena thiteam síos
Céad troigh go scairbh dubh fiaclach.
A bhás! Nach neamhthrócaireach tú
Ar mhac baintrí trí chéad míle óna mham
É a sheas ceann cothaithe
A thuig agus a ghéill riamh do Chríost.
Lastuas de ar shleamhnán sléibhe
Bhí caoirigh ag méiligh, bhog sé láimh
Lig as fead glaice a chéas go gear
Ciuíneas na maidine ar Thúr Bhaile Dháith
Chuala aoire an teachtaireacht
B'fhios do siolla an bháis sa bhfead
Le cómh aoire agus téada réidh síos ar fad ar scáth an ghalláin chonaiceadar fear.
Anois nó ríamh, bhí misneach ar a thriall
Le téad thar a chom chuaigh duine acu
Troigh ar throigh amach ar spuaic dromchapallach carriage
In éadan na faille.
Fáisceann crobh ar chrobh anois
An máirnéalach ar crochadh ó ghéag an aoíre
Le neart fathaigh agus croí leon
Tugann sé leis é trasna
Trasna diaidh ar ndiaidh
Cúlaid troigh ar through ó ghob an bháis
Líonann deora buíochais súile an óg -fhir
Pógann sé go dlúth an láimh a chuir Críost
Chun tearmann a thrócaire dúinn a thaispeáint.
Moltar i L'Orient go mór anocht
Gníomh na beirte fear ó Bhaile Reo
A chuaigh chomh dian i ndreap an bháís
Chun ainm na fhior- Éireannaigh a choimeád beo go deo.

The epic rescue from certain death of a young Breton sailor in the 1950's, when his vessel was shipwrecked. Three local men, Tom "Lord" Ó Conchúir, Seán 'Teamhail' Ó Conchúir, Baile Reó and Tom Ó Cinnéide, Baile Uí Chorráin saved him by descending a cliff near Baile Reó and carrying him to safety with a stout rope. Sung by Rita and Éilís

 

12. Cois Laoí - By the Lee
Ag sníomh liom go trupallach
Ó chlíathán na gcnoc
Na mílte srutháin
Ag follamhú amach
Go Gleann na Laoí.
Ag snámh go lubach leisciúil
Tré ghaortha glasa
Líobaim crua - charraigeacha
Ag bailiu nirt is teann mo luí
Cosúil le bean throm thorrach
Silim go mall le fánaidh
Codlaím ciúin chun cathrach
An mhuir im' phógadh
Sin deireadh le hAbha na Laoí.

Caoimhín's reflection on the course of the River Lee from hillside streams, through lazy valleys, 'til it wakes as it enters Cork City and kisses the sea. The poem was written as Caoimhín brought his pupils on an outing to Cork.

 

13. Ciúmhais Charraig Aonair - The Fastnet Rock
Ciúmhais Charraig Aonair faoí chúr na dtonn
Deoraí bocht brónach na mílte croí go fonn
Tinteáín gheala fágtha go deo faoí bhrón
I muchóid na maidine monuar na mbog ochón
Fínné ar fheall tú, a mheall gach éinne
Inis an scrios dúinn, Cé shéid an Lusitania?
Smaointe na scuainte mar cheo ód' chrois
Scuabtha ag na teolaithe fan doimhin anois
Báid chófraí ' chóirigh tú ar a gconair ó Chóbh
Danair, Don Juan, is flatha sa taisteal dóibh
Fínné ar fheall tú, a mheall gach éinne
Inis an scrios dúinn, Cé shéid an Lusitania?
Sáirséal, San Ruth, is fearaibh Tone faoí chéad
Chonaicís na Múraigh ag scriosadh Dhún na Séad
Fínné ar fheall tú, tú a mheall gach éinne
Inis an scrios dúinn,
Cé shéid an Lusitania?

While bringing a new fishing boat back home to Kerry, Caoimhín passed by the Fastnet Rock at daybreak. His mind turns to the thousands of exiles which it witnessed leaving Ireland over the years, Sarsfield and St. Ruth, the Moorish sack of Baltimore, the men of Wolfe Tone. He asks the rock to reveal the mystery: Who sank the Lusitania?
Specially composed for Rita

 

14. Ar Muir san Oiche At Sea by Night
Ar dhubhcúl cnoic san oíche ar thóir an éisc
Machnaím go doimhin
Nuair a chím' na soilse.
Tithe cluthair aolgheal
Tábhairní deataí spéiriúil
Mná 'gus fearaibh go haerach
'S gan chathú orthu ná cumha.
Ach nach iomaí taibhse taobh liom
Dos na fearaibh a bhí inné anso
Ag bailiú chuchu béilí
Don iasc maith úr dá gclann
Ón gClochán go Cuas na nAe siar
Béal Bán is a' Dúinín
'S gan trácht ar Bhaile na nGall
Plúr na bhfear ar gach aon cé.
Faoin ndubhthoinn do mhúch na céadta
Nuair a bhris go pras na néalta
Is bhailigh leo na réalta
Is do bhánaigh chuchu an Streall
Is nách ainnis an botháinín aolgheal
Ná suífidh súd chun tae ann
Ach anocht é cloíte ag tréanmhuir
Mo lean, a bhéan is a chlann.

Caoimhín loved to drift-net for Mackerel at night in Autumn. This poem describes his thoughts as he is out one night, seeing the lights of the houses and pubs ashore, thinking of the ghosts of those who fished these waters before him, princes among men. He reflects on those snatched by the sea. Specially composed for Séamus, and learned by him only two days before the concert

 

15. Scáil na Lasrach - Reflections by Firelight
Scáil na lasrach ó thine brea móna, cé bhain?
Tabhairne suairc , leathfholamh
I ndúbhluachair an gheimhridh anois.
Plúchta le gríanadóirí an tsamhraidh
Spás ghearr ó shoin, meidhréiseach
Leathnochtaithe, deargchneasadh,
Ar thóir na gréine, na gainí 'gus na dtonn.
Scáil na lasrach, ó thine brea móna
Thall ar scáth na lasrach
Beirt iascairí cnámhacha
As téamh a slinneáin le neart na tine
Níl ann ach clapsholas, is fuacht amuigh
Scéalta saoil sona, dona, lasracha
Ag teaspáint a riostaí cnámhacha , lom
A chnag framaí báid ar thóir an éisc..

Scáil na lasrach, ó thine brea móna
Scáil na lasrach, ó thine brea móna

Nach sona é tine ar iasacht tábhairne
Dha phiúnt portair mar anlann le tine.
Ní tráchtar sna teampaill ar a dtárla

Scáil na lasrach, ó thine brea móna
Scáil na lasrach, ó thine brea móna
Scáil na lasrach, ó thine brea móna

A poignant recollection of two old fishermen in Baile na nGall on a winter's eve, sitting before a turf fire, having a pint: not long before, this place was full of sunseeking scantily clad visitors.
The fishermen warm themselves before the fire and reminisce as dusk falls. They sit and swap stories of good times and bad. Flames show bony wrists which once fought the sea in search of fish.
This last track was the last poem written by Caoímhín capturing his own memories of friends and of fishing in Ballydavid

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