#waulking

[beagan-gaidhlig]

Nighean sin thall, ho-ri ò ro Ho-ro, ghealladh i, ò hì ò ro Nach seall a-mach thu? Ho-ri ò ro Ho-ro, ghealladh i, ò hì ò ro

"In this waulking song, a woman is asked to look out and see if the moon is rising, and if the boat can cross."

Here are more traditional recordings from 1949 and 1951, both from Benbecula.

[felagund-fiollaigean]

mutuals do this

[harvestheart]

HH: The Waulking Women of Scotland

'Wool waulking is a traditional Scottish process of finishing and strengthening newly woven woolen fabrics. It is a significant social and cultural activity, often carried out by women in the Highlands of Scotland. The Gaelic songs that are sung during waulking have a distinctive rhythmic pattern that aids in synchronising the work.'

(Video and text via Inverness Outlanders)

[c-kiddo]

scottish au caduceus implies that ludinus daleth took part in the highland clearances (instead of doing fantasy chernobyl)

[skulkie]

selkie playlist, as we all know, being the better of all the wizard playlists,

[mali-umkin]

Campbell and Collinson Hebridean Folksongs III - sample (d) of Chunnaic mise mo leannan ('I saw my lover') sung by Catriana Sednaid which includes the recounting of a rape.

This is a section of a waulking song - songs sang during the waulking of the cloth by women in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland. They are composed (often in a trance-like state) to keep the beat when the cloth is being waulked and feature many themes of importance in the life of women in the 17th and 18th centuries, sung on much older airs. They are often made of several 'sections' with little literary coherence, and feature vivid imagery and elements borrowed from the panegyric code of poetry. The practice died out in the 1950s.

[cruelsister-moved2]

trying to find that recording because i love the like delighted cowboy whoop sooo much and i cant even remember where it was 😭

[ancestorsalive]

Waulking Skye Weavers Tweed

“These women have stamina! As well as fantastic singing voices. A few highlights from the day I spent at Auchindrain Township, finishing a length of Skye Wool tweed over several hours with waulking groups Sgioba Luaidh Inbhirchluaidh  and Cuigeal. Make sure you turn the sound on for a taster of some of the many traditional waulking songs (Òrain Luaidh in Gaelic) that are integral to this process and an important part of Scotland’s cultural heritage. Watch to the end to see the finished tweed back in Skye.”

- Skye Weavers

Find out more about waulking on our blog: https://www.skyeweavers.co.uk/blog/waulking-the-tweed

[deborabuerk-the-write-stuff]

A Journey Through Scottish History: From Inveraray to Auchindrain

[weaversweek]

"Coisich a' ruin" - Capercaillie

Traditional, arranged Capercaillie

Or, how to give Bruno Brookes a nightmare.

Part of the UncoolTwo50 project, marking the best singles from 1977-99.

Pop music was at a low ebb in 1992. Demographics meant there weren't many teenagers around, and we were fracturing into a zillion tribes - the grebos, the crusties, the goths, the celts.

Music from the Celtic fringes had always had a place, usually mid-evenings on Radio 2, jostling for space on the Folk Show. Enya had shown that it was possible to take Celtic music from Ireland, add some New Age sparkle, and turn it into a very attractive commercial proposition. Runrig had had decent success for Celtic rock from Scotland.

Capercaillie were the stereotype fiddle-and-dram band, updated for the nineties with electric guitar and judicious use of synthesisers. Karen Matheson is the lead singer and focal point, Donald Shaw the other songwriter.

"Coisich a' ruin" is the oldest song in this list, first recorded in the late 1500s. It's also the first of three songs not in English.

When released on "The prince among islands" ep, a slow sales week and very careful targeting of the Gallup cells allowed them to get into the GB-wide top 40 and earn plays on Radio 1. Which is a remarkable achievement: a song even older than Fluff Freeman on the chart show!

The folk scene is loyal to its performers; perhaps to a fault, as many seem trapped in the same music they've always made. Capercaillie have continued to perform, they've innovated a little, and I reckon they've inspired a lot - the fiddle-based entertainment, as much show as tune, might have helped us get the young Lindsey Stirling.

[bbharmacist]

Igglybuff: Do you like singing? What songs?

I'm not much one for singing, I'm afraid. I'll hum to myself, sometimes, but that's it.

[scotianostra]

December 12th 1902 saw the birth of Nan Mackinnon or, to give her her Gaelic patronymic, Nan Eachainn Fhionnlaigh, at Kentangaval, Isle Of Barra.

Nan was a tradition-bearer, whose remarkable memory, enthusiasm, and love of the Gaelic oral tradition has ensured that her wealth of knowledge has been preserved and shared with future generations. She became known as Nan of Vatersay, or Nan of the songs.

Nan was the youngest of seven children. Her father, Hector (Eachann Fhionnlaigh), was also born and raised in Kentangaval, and was descended from the MacKinnons of Strath, Skye – the historic grazing constables to the MacNeils of Barra until the 19th century. Nan's mother Mary was from Mingulay, and had strong connections with the MacPhee family, who – according to local tradition – came to settle in Barra in the 14th century. Nan grew up in what was a politically tumultuous time in the Highlands, and this influenced her early life greatly. Despite having won security of tenure twenty years before Nan was born, there remained a strong sense of injustice at the uneven distribution of land in the Highlands. Having spent her early years in Barra, in 1907 Nan's father was part of the 'Vatersay Raiders' – landless cottars from Barra and Mingulay who carried out a land raid on Vatersay, establishing crofts on the neglected land. Despite the eventual failure of the Land Raid, Nan's family were eventually given a croft in Baile, Vatersay following the purchase of land on the island by the Congested Districts Board.

Nan's repertoire was among some of the most extensive and varied of her generation, and this is reflected in the recordings of her featured on the Tobar an Dualchais website. She came from a rich musical tradition, and was said to know around 400 songs by heart, most of which she learned from her mother. After receiving her schooling on the island, Nan left home when she was seventeen and – as was common for women of her age at the time – spent a number of years in service for a variety of people in Argyll. She also worked at the herring for a time, in both Shetland and Yarmouth before going to Glasgow. One of her sisters died suddenly in 1940, leaving four young children and a husband who was away at sea for long periods. Nan returned home to Vatersay to raise the children and remained there for the rest of her life.

Nan McKinnon had a great fondness for the stories and songs she knew, and she was convinced of the importance of the oral tradition to Gaelic communities. Growing up she would spend hours practising them until she knew them in their entirety. As Nan herself commented: "[Each story] tells the ways of the people that lived in those days. The waulking songs kept news alive from generation to generation. There were no newspapers, whereas today we read it in the papers and forget about it tomorrow. But the songs kept it alive. Those happenings that happened centuries ago are still to be told in song and story. It's wonderful." Over and above her repertoire of songs, Nan was also well known for her tales and legends – often of a supernatural nature – and her captivating story style. She also had a deep knowledge of the traditions of Uist and Barra, and was recording speaking about a variety of subjects from cures to feast days, to interpretations of omens and dreams. Her knowledge of the material culture of her native island was also extensive, and her recordings include discussions about traditional diet, including about what would be eaten when food was scarce.

There are almost 1,000 recordings of Nan on the Tobar an Dualchais website, the earliest dating back to 1953 when she was recorded by Donald MacPherson for the Canna Collection, several other visited her and recorded her over the years, she must have been quite the wee celebrity on Vatersay

James Ross summed up her significance as a tradition-bearer by saying: "Nan is the type of person that the folklore and folk-song collectors dream about. There is absolutely no trace of 'memory effect' as she responds to queries … Her answers are always a direct affirmative or negative, usually … the former. She never has to search her mind, and this, together with her unstinting co-operation, endless patience and subtle sense of humour, made the work of collecting a joy."

At the link below you can listen to Nan singing Griogal Cridhe, (literally "Gregor of the Heart", or "Beloved Gregor". It is a traditional Scottish lament and lullaby that was composed in Gaelic by Mór Chaimbeul ("Marion Campbell"), the widow of Griogair Ruadh Mac Griogair ("Gregor the Red MacGregor") (1541–1570), the chief of the Clan MacGregor of Glen Strae, who was executed at Taymouth Castle, Perthshire, on April 7th, 1570. There are many versions of the lyrics

Griogal Cridhe

Chorus;

Òbhan, òbhan, òbhan i ri

Òbhan i ri ò

Òbhan, òbhan, òbhan i ri

'S mòr, mo mhulad, 's mòr.

'S iomadh oidhche fhliuch is thioram,

Sìde nan seachd sian,

Gheibheadh Griogal dhomhsa creagan

Ris an gabhainn dìon.

Eudail mhòir, a shluagh an Domhain,

Dhòirt iad t'fhuil o'n dè,

'S chuir iad do cheann air stob daraich

Tacan beag bho d'chrè.

B' annsa bhi le Griogal cridhe

Teàrnadh chruidh le gleann,

Na le Baran mòr na Dalach,

Sìoda geal mu m' cheann.

Chan eil ùbhlan idir agam,

'S ùbhlan uil' aig càch,

'S ann tha m'ùbhlan-s' cùbhr' ri caineal

'S cùl a chinn ri làr.

'Nuair a bhios mnàthan òg a'bhaile,

'Nochd nan cadal sèimh,

'S ann bhios mis' air bruaich do lice,

'Bualadh mo dhà làimh.

Many a night, wet or dry

weather of the seven elements

Gregor would get me a rocky shelter

Against the storm

Greatest treasure in all the world

They spilt your blood yesterday

And they put your head on a post of oak

A little way from your body

Would that I were with beloved Gregor

Herding cattle in the glen

Than with the great Baron of the Dale

White silk around my head

I have no apples at all

Others have all the apples

My apple with the fragrance of cinnamon

The back of his head to the ground

When the young women of the village will be

Tonight sleeping soundly

I will be at your graveside

Beating my two hands

With the above being a lament I thought I would post another song from Nan, Haoi Ho Nach Dannsadh Sibh E is a much more upbeat song, according to the notes Nan’s mother heard this song from Lewis women at the fishing. Another source tells me that this is the only variant of that song, so without t the work of the likes of Donald MacPherson, and indeed Margaret Fay Shaw, some of these songs would have been lost to the world, they are an integral, very important part of our Gaelic roots. This song is a light vocal dance tune with a love theme. The song is of the type common among the women who worked as herring gutters.

https://www.tobarandualchais.co.uk/track/108438?l=en

[bubblellop]

The person helping me ouy today had an ao3 sticker on their water bottle

Doing physical therapy can make me feel so stupid sometimes . Look at me walk around pathetically with weighs on my hands ium such a fuckinh loser . The walk of shame

[sixty-silver-wishes]

I love folk music so much I love music traditions passed down through generations I love folk instruments I love the use of music as a vessel to voice the shared experiences of people I love everyday people performing folk music to keep that aspect of their culture alive I love the spread of folk music online so I can be introduced to more of it I love protest songs and laments and jigs and shanties and work songs and spirituals and waulking songs and ballads and drinking songs etc etc I love them so much

[felagund-fiollaigean]

please tell me about waulking songs?

I would be glad to!

So waulking (or fulling) cloth is a process consisting of scouring (where you soak new wool fabric in liquid, typically stale urine or fuller's earth, to cleanse it of dirt and oil) and milling (working it continuously until the pressure and friction make the fibers shrink up and felt). The result is a piece of fabric that's warm and water-resistant and will last for generations.

in Scotland, the process of waulking tweed was traditionally done by women around a table, beating the cloth with their hands and on the table to make it felt. And as humans have done since the beginning of time when faced with a rhythmic, collaborative, and monotonous task, they made up songs to sing while doing it

they're terrestrial work shanties. here's a good demonstration! some of my favorite waulking songs are gaol ise gaol i, he mandu, and beinn a cheathaich

[christiwhitson]

“What are they doing?”

With effort, Jamie pulled his gaze from her and focused instead on the women.

“Waulkin’ wool. They’re singing, aye?”

“Yes. But it’s all in Gaelic, so…”

“Aye,” he chuckled. “Dinna reckon anyone’s bothered to translate the waulking songs into English. I canna hear the tune, but I remember the words. ‘Tis a man singin’ to the lass he wants to court. He’s travelin’ with a heavy heart when he meets her, and even though she’s with many other women, she’s the only one he sees. He thinks people will disapprove of their courtship, but he doesna care. He’s determined to have her, no matter the cost.”

Claire turned back to look at him again, and the irony of the lyrics hung heavily in the air between them. As the women reached another chorus, she seemed to catch a few familiar words.

“Mo nighean donn?”

“My brown-haired lass.”

“You’ve called me that before,” she realized, smiling softly. Jamie grinned.

“Aye. So I have.”

The world seemed to fall away for a long moment as their gazes held, and Jamie wished for the thousandth time that his life might be just a little less complicated. That he might be free to make her his wife without risking her safety. God knew, he had little to offer her, save his love and whatever protection his body might provide.

But would that be enough?