Thanks to Dr. Tadhg Ó Dúshláine for contributing this week's profile (as well as the first new wild-card question)!
What do you consider most valuable about your time at La Muse? The totality of the ambience - location, discipline, collegiality - all conducive to getting the job done.
Tell us, in a sentence or two, about the project you were focused on while at La Muse. Two sojourns, two volumes of poetry produced and published.
What advice would you give future attendees? Plan, prepare, and focus on a specific project for the time involved.
What three (French!) words would you use to describe La Muse? Sanctuaire tranquille, inspirant.
Dr. Ó Dúshláine was the first to take us up on the offer to contribute a question of his own: How about an annual 'La Muse Festival des Arts'?
How about it La Musers? Would you make the trek for a La Muse Festival des Arts? What time of year would you most like to attend such a festival?
Next was John's wife Janet who donated I Never Knew That About Ireland by Christopher Winn, a book full of interesting asides on historical characters and places in Ireland. She also brought along Ken Hom's cookbook Ken Hom's Vegetarian Cookery.
The South African artist Deborah Clarke, who lives in France, brought a photo memoir of her father JFC Clarke's book A Glimpse Into Marabastad which documents a township in South Africa back in the early 70s.
Eibhlís is an Irish composer, as well as the Head of Music and Creative Media (Ceannasaí Roinn Ceoil agus Meáin Chruthaitheacha) at the Dundalk Institute of Technology. She will be attending the August 24 - September 14 retreat.
Below is one of the three poems from Tadgh's collection "Comhdháil." Tadgh wrote the poem while attending La Muse as the Foras Feasa Fellow last year. The poem won the Dánta na Comhdhála: Annual International Competition for best poem in Irish or Scots Gaelic. The Irish is followed by an English translation. (You can see video of the actual recital by Judith Mok that inspired Tadgh's poem at the end of the English translation below.)
Aiséirí
Ar chloisint Judith Mok ag ceol i Séipéilín na Maighdine, le linn oscailt thaispeántas ealaíne La Muse, Labastide Esparbärineque, Languedoc, ar an Domhnach, 9. 8. 2008.
Bhí drogall ar an ndoras géilleadh d’eochair an Mhéara Is d’éagaoin na hinsí faoi éigean a ghuailne Faoi mar ba réabadh reilige tuama seo an tseanchreidimh Séipéilín tréigthe na Maighdine Ar maos le hiarsmaí na seandeabhóide Ó laethanta an chreidimh a bhí anallód ann, A chur ar fáil mar ardán, Do Phrima Donna opera ar saoire sa dúthaigh: Gabhar sa teampall Ná stadfadh go raghadh ’on altóir.
Lasadh coinnle ar mhaithe le hatmaisféar Is bhailigh ealta caobach ar thóir cultúir isteach Is chuir, dá mb’fhéidir san, le dreach truamhéileach na Maighdine, Muire na nDólás, Seachas mar a bhíodh tráth ar mhair sagart beo ar an mbaile.
Thabharfá do d’uidh Stáisiúin na Croise i gcailc dhaite Múnlaithe go maoithneach de réir treoracha tinneasnacha Naomh Bonaventura in Smaointe Beatha Chríost: Na súile móra dólásacha, Na geáitsí drámatúla, na gothaí impíocha A bhogfadh an croí cloiche ionainn tráth Do dhóthain de thitimí, de mhaslaí is de sciúrseadh thuras na croise Ag gabháil trí ghleann na ndeor duit siar amach go héadóchas Golgatha.
Agus bhí an fhoireann tacaíochta leis ó inné ann: Páirt lárnach ag Seosamh an seanshéithleach dílis, Traochta, ar leathghlúin, ag friotháilt ar Mhuire, Ná leáfadh im ina béal Agus cloigeann na nathrach brúite faoina sáil; Í ar a barraicíní ar tí a deastógála, Treasa Avila, ag déanamh a marana, Thérèse de Lisieux, Suanmhar sítheach i measc na mbláth; Proinsias de Sales ag cleachtadh cúirtéise Vincent de Paul i mbun obair na trócaire.
B’oiriúnaí, déarfá, boladh túise agus an Tantum Ergo An Pie Jesu agus an Salve Regina Ná Summertime and the Living is Easy A raibh sé de dhánaíocht sa Iúdach mná crochadh suas mar finale Ach in Veni Creator mo chroí caitliceach féin tharla rud éigin: Mhúscail stáisiúin na croise ina dtableaux Is bhí an baile beo: Chaoch Iósaf súil leis an Mhaighdean Mhuire Thuirling cumhracht Lisieux ar an slua Leathnaigh drithlíní áthais ó Avila Is bhain guth na mná macalla as sléibhte, gleannta is mánna Siar amach go Cathair an Iomchúisimh i gCarcasonne; Agus bhí sé ina mhaidin Chásca Bhí baint an fhéir sa spéir le héirí gréine Sa cheol a raid sí leis an mbith Agus d’fhógair coiligh an bhaile i gcór le chéile: ‘Mac na hÓighe slán! Mac na hÓige slán! Ag guth ainglí Judith Mok Ag athghabháil ceol draíochta na dtroubadour Maidin Domhnaigh Fómhair i Languedoc.
On hearing Judith Mok sing, in the Chapel of the Virgin, at the opening of the La Muse art exhibition, in Languedoc.
The door creaked when the mayor turned the key As though objecting to this crowd of culture vultures Disturbing the peace Of the chapel of the Virgin fallen from grace For an Opera Prima Donna on holidays to take over the alter As though she were going on stage.
We lit candles just for atmosphere and crowded in To sing the praises of the artwork While the old statue of Our Lady of Sorrows looked more sorrowful still.
You couldn’t but notice the Stations of the Cross The big sad eyes, The dramatic, imploring gestures That could once soften this heart of stone Sending up sighs as you made your way through the valley of tears.
All the supporting cast were there: Faithful Joseph central to the show: There he was exhausted on bended knee tending to Mary You’d swear butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, As she crushed the serpent under her heal, On her tippy toes ready to be assumed into heaven. Teresa of Avila in the background, transfixed in ecstasy Thérèse of Lisieux, tranquillity itself tiptoeing through the tulips. Francis de Sales all kindness and courtesy Vincent de Paul all corporal works of mercy.
You’d have thought that the smell of incense and the sound of the Tantum Ergo and the Salve Regina, Were more appropriate to the setting that Madame Mok’s choice of Summertime and the living is easy as finale.
And yet, in the Veni Creator of my own catholic heart something happened: And the stations of the Cross all came to life. Joseph winked at the Virgin Mary, The fragrance of Lisieux decended on us And we tripped along with Teresa of Avila. As the voice of the Prima Donna rolled down through the hills and valleys To the city of the inquisition in Carcassone And ’twas Easter morning; The sun danced in the sky, As choirs of starlings proclaimed resurrection, On hearing the voice of Judith Mok Echoing the local troubadours On a sunny Sunday morning in Languedoc.