I spent Hogmanay afternoon walking through the city centre, feeling unutterably scunnered with Edinburgh. The city turns into a theme park at this time of year, with large sections barricaded off and constant disruption for anyone just trying to get from A to B. Needless to say, the festive cheer I was clinging onto from Christmas had long gone.
So I went home. The hours passed, some fireworks went off. Wine was drank, sleep was had, the calendar changed. By contrast, the following day, lots of venues across the Old Town were transformed into tasters of places beyond the city limits. Music, video, dance and participation in islands, rural communities and places elsewhere. This is precisely what I needed this New Year; to think of being anywhere else. That this was delivered so nicely to me, and the thousands others in attendence, through beautiful venues in the heart of Edinburgh is suitably ironic. I wished only to escape but ultimately the best of other places was brought to me through this frustrating but peerless city.
My favourite event of the day came from Sea Bird:Land, hosted by An Lanntair in Stornoway. Turas is Tumadh; sounds of the sea, coast, boats with a video projection and live score by Aidan O’Rourke and pals.
Some links for anyone interested:
Full info on the Scot:Lands event here.
A review by Sarah Laurenson of the Tumadh : Immersion exhibition held in 2014.
Bliadhna mhath ùr – happy new year – to one and all.
As the pile of job applications keeps growing and as my annual Winter cold takes an ever stronger grip on my sinuses, I thought I’d take a minute or two to round up some things I’ve been enjoying recently. There surely is no soul on this earth who enjoys filling in job applications with or without a cold.
It’s just a few days ’til the launch of Celtic Connections in Glasgow. It’s always a feast of interesting, challenging and inspiring music and with some of the best horo-gheallaidh you could ask for in the Festival Club. I can’t wait!
I recently read The Silent Weaver by Roger Hutchinson and was reminded of the beautiful and enigmatic works of Angus MacPhee. Some of these are on display in Kildonan Museum in South Uist; I’ve spent a lot of time entirely transfixed by them. The Silent Weaver does justice to the man and his work as well as setting it within the wider context of mental health care in the 20th century.
A winter walk to see in the New Year. We took a trip north, enjoying the snow, trees and frosty landscapes of the uplands around Blair Atholl. I love Perthshire at this time of year. Photos in this post from that walk.
Yesterday heralded the old new year (interesting article by Angus Peter Campbell in the link) so with that I wish you all bliadhna mhath ùr.
Just a few quick links for a rainy, windy Wednesday evening.
The Storyville series on the BBC is rarely less than excellent and two episodes recently have been particularly good. The Queen of Versaille was remarkable – a rags-to-riches-to-rags story of wealth, greed, delusion, corruption and ultimately family life. The most recent Storyville on was Expedition to the End of the World – a group of scientists and artists travelling into areas of Greenland thought to be unexplored. It, too, was wonderful with interesting musings on the relationship between art and archaeology (a favourite topic of mine). The landscapes were like something from a dream, but shattered often by the reality of the dangers of the area, with polars never far away.
Last year I was pleased to contribute an arctic tern to the Bird Yarns project. I was lucky enough to see them exhibited at the Dovecot studios in Edinburgh (and, by a stroke of luck, actually found my own). Reading more about the project and the flock as it moves across the country I’ve come across Air Falbh Leis na h-Eòin; another fascinating multi-disciplinary arts project in English and Gaelic that I really hope I’ll get a chance to see in person. I love the combination of environment, language, and music. It encapsulates something that I find so important about Gaelic: that it, as a language, evolved as a result and reaction to its surrounding environment and landscape. It’s a topic I’ve been researching for my work recently and it just keeps demonstrating to me how important it is to reconnect language with environment. It’s a project worth a nosey, anyway.
It’s a Sunday. There are no buses on a Sunday, I don’t have a car and I’ve yet to have my bike shipped to me. Travel options are limited in this corner of the world. As a result, Sundays tend to be particularly easy-going. I’ve no garden with vegetables or plants to tend to, nor any animals to look after (much as I might want). Instead, I’ve been enjoying the wintery colours outside, muddling about indoors doing suitably seasonal things and trying not to be too forlorn for not being in Edinburgh when the city is truely at her best; at Christmas. I think there’s a real understated beauty in the muted colours of Winter. They’re not bold and brashy like the colours of Summer, but they have a quiet delicacy all of their own.
I’ve also been bemoaning the passage of time realising it’s been ten years since this sublime album was released. It is still close to perfection. Today has been a ‘music day’. One of my favourite activities – a day spent with the simple indulgence of songs and records playing non-stop. Sometimes I find a frustration in not being able to sit down and listen to anything, or at least not finding anything that compells me to sit down and pay attention to it ‘Music days’ are the polar opposite of this – there is nothing that doesn’t sound good. Today I’ve been enoying Mountain Man, The Decemberists, Interpol (see above), The Great American Desert and various bits and piece of early blues songs. This album is one of the best I know.