FIONA MACKENZIE wipes a tear from her eye as Duncan Chisholm weaves poignant music, stories and images from Gaeldom into a triumphant whole

IF YOU could only get to see one show at Blas 2007, (in addition to Harvest, of course), a show which encapsulated all that Blas is about, ‘KIN’ would be the one to go to.

Blas 2007 commissioned this work (the festival’s first commission) from the pen and fiddle of Wolfstone member Duncan Chisholm from Inverness. Duncan describes this multi-media project as setting out to show that “our connection, our line to the past survives in our music, our writings, our landscape, our sense of community and our respect for family”.

Through the medium of music, vision and language, the piece celebrates landscape, language, tradition, community and family, young and old, things which Duncan describes as being fundamental to the Highland psyche, “to our place in the world and to the inspiration of our people”.

Hosted bilingually by Fear an Taigh, David Boag of Fèisean nan Gaidheal, the first part of the evening comprised a short set of some of Duncan’s music, sensitively and beautifully accompanied by Marc Clements on guitar and Brian MacAlpine on keys [a change from the premiere the previous evening in Grantown, when they played KIN first – Ed.]

The set opened with the haunting Gaelic air ‘Chro Chinn t-Saile’, from Kintail, and carried on with a beautiful Asturian Bagpipe lullaby, a contradiction in terms perhaps. Despite Duncan comparing their appearance to funeral directors – new black suits being the order of the day – the mood was anything but funereal. It was relaxed and jovial without being in any way forced, stories being the order of the day.

A more modest group of lads you would not find on any Highland stage and there was a general air of anticipation within the beautiful, old wooden vaulted hall during the interval, and the club style layout was further enhanced by the candles on the tables.

The opening of ‘KIN’ took the form of stark images of a windswept Glen Affric, the home of Duncan Chisholm’s granny. Duncan’s achingly beautiful playing was the perfect foil for the emotive images on the screen. Duncan himself on screen told us the story of his granny’s life, also using recordings of her own words, coupled with telling black and white photos of his family, the gamekeepers, the dogs and the ponies in the glen.

Beautifully filmed monochrome helicopter shots of the glen took us on a journey through time and distance then over to Barra to visit the past family of Niall Macdonald, a young piper there. He told us the story of his ‘papa’ and his encouragement to his young grandson to play the pipes.

Subtly interwoven throughout this piece is the reinforcement of the fact that language is at the heart of every community and no more so than in the Gaelic language and culture. Gaelic words and phrases connected to culture and family – gràdh, smuain, saorsa, cultur – flashed on screen.

At times we, the audience, almost forgot that the stunning music accompanying the film was in fact being played live in front of us, so perfectly appropriate and unobtrusive it was. Barra led us to South Uist and stories from one of Gaeldom’s best and most amusing storytellers, Rona Lightfoot.

Rona told us stories of mice and pandrops and her granny’s cosy bed, all the while illustrated by stunning shots of the beautiful flower laden machair in the Uists, accompanied by the stunning slow air arrangement of Rona’s own song ‘Mo Nighean Chruinn Donn air bharraibh nan tonn’ .

South Uist led us onto Sutherland and stories from Essie Stewart, grand-daughter of Ailidh Dall, the well known traveller storyteller in Sutherland.

Duncan Chisholm has shown us what can be achieved in crossing boundaries within music and language – this is a project which can be enjoyed by Gaels and non Gaels alike, by musicians and listeners, by young and old.

Perhaps the most moving and telling part of the evening was the end shot where Duncan returned to his granny’s croft and on screen, picked up his fiddle lying at the broken down door, and began to quietly play a beautiful air.

Duncan, on stage, then picked up his fiddle and accompanied himself in a beautiful duet – a stunning end to a stunning piece. I was not the only one in the audience with a tear in my eye and Duncan, Brian and Marc well deserved the standing ovation. Absolutely catch this one if you can – you won’t regret it. Meal do naidheachd, a Dhonnchaidh!

Fiona MacKenzie is the Mhairi Mhor Gaelic Song Fellow

© Fiona MacKenzie, 2007