July 3-10 2004 - Jura Harmony Singing Holiday
I first went to Jura a couple of years ago with my friend Eleanor Shaw. Eleanor works with the Nadair Trust providing funding for projects throughout Argyll - including all the inner Hebridean islands - and I took a lift with her when she went to pay a call on the Jura development group.
I was dropped off at Jura House and it was love at first sight. The sense of quiet isolation, the walled garden with its exotic blooms, and the riot of colour from the natural flowers surrounding the tea tent - all resonated with my primal longing for the wild. And all of this with the ocean endlessly lapping in a sandy bay at the bottom of a path down through the oak wood.
I'd been back a few times to climb the Paps - a winter's expedition through frozen bog and heather ending in the most extraordinary views over the ocean to the mountains of Mull rising out of a sea mist, and across the quiet waters east towards the mainland.
There are very few people on Jura - indeed the island boasts that there are 40 times more deer than humans. Most of the 150 inhabitants live in the little village of Craighouse with its pub, its shop and its distillery. The rest of the island is left to the wildlife of eagles, and otters, and seals. Just north of the island, the Corryvrekin Whirlpool, an awe inspiring reminder of the potency of nature where the tides, funneled through the narrow straights over deep holes in the ocean floor, cause enormous turbulence, like the boiling imminence of deep sea gods or monsters from below.
I have always believed that everything is sweeter when shared - who better to share it with than my singing comrades.
Sixteen of us gathered together to learn the harmonies of songs from around the world including Scottish folk songs which I had picked up from various community choirs - and on the last day we sang them at a concert by the tea tent. Getting an audience for a concert on Jura is much harder than performing one, but on my way to the island over Islay I stopped at every available shop and information centre and ferry wall to leave a leaflet about the concert. About 50 people came.
It is a common concept among singer-centred voice teachers that in any group the wisdom of the collective is always more than that of any one individual - including the leader. Ignoring this wisdom is like having a chest full of diamonds but wearing only copper.
So we were treated to a wonderful round from Jane Edwards welcoming the audience "to our music fest." Some Gaelic folk songs and sweet harmonies from Moira McAlpine and Angela Hadwin who sing with the Ledi Birds in Callander. A round about a young "apple cheeked" rider galloping to the mountains by Sonia Lee from Bristol. Some Israeli songs from Sue Lieberman from Edinburgh. And on a visit to the Jura distillery, Miguel Heatwole from Australia sang a Gaelic song about a man who sees a bird which had died of thirst beside a frozen lake and took it as a sign that he should drink more whiskey.
A number of years ago I wrote a piece for the Natural Voice network's discussion group on the difference between process orientated singing - where power is shared in the group and what matters is the relationship of the different singers and honouring their creativity - and product orientated singing, which often requires a more rigid structure and leadership to create a polished performance. I like to think that in our group we found the best of each method.
Most days we sang in the mornings and in the late afternoon - leaving time to explore the island during the rest of the day. There were expeditions to the Paps, across the island to the western raised beaches and sea caves, and a boat trip to the whirlpool. As well as singing round fires on the beach into the setting sun, there was a singing walk through the walled garden, along the northern tip to a hay meadow Monet-ed by wild flowers, and down to the bay by the castle to see otters.
The more hardy (or foolish?) amongst us swam in the early morning. One day I swam out into the dawn of the bay with Paul Knapman - vigorously to prevent freezing. Stopping to catch my breath, I raised my head to find a seal just a few feet away gazing back. It is small wonder that those deeply melancholic eyes have inspired so many songs and stories about them being the incarnations of drowned fishermen.
We ended with a four part arrangement by Leslie Lear of the Parting Glass - a song sung by the Irish and Scots before setting sail for new homes across the seas. Time being short for the learning, we speeded up the tempo causing some annoyance to pedants used to the drunken dragging that often accompanies this song in folk clubs. (According to discussion at the Mudcat Cafe website, the song originates from John Armstrong, a Border cattle thief who sang it on the eve of his execution for murdering Sir John Carmichael in 1600. No doubt he was in no hurry to finish it!).
Next year we're planning to have more Gaelic songs, and hopefully join with local Gaelic singers - a plan which this year fell through when their choir leader was incapacitated by illness. I hope you'll join us.
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