Mac MacKenzie: News

Cave Of The Great Spirit

Mac — Wed, 18 Apr 2012 19:04:29 +0000

I grew up in an area of Canada with a deep Ojibwe heritage and though my own roots are European, I was most certainly influenced and shaped by the land and it's people. Playing the native flute is more than just a physical act for me; it is a spiritual act that places me in the moment, connecting me to the Creator, nature, people, history and a culture and way of life that is continually threatened and pushed to the fringes of our modern society. This song is a piece I wrote in honour of the land of my youth.

You can take a preview listen to a streaming version of "Cave Of The Great Spirit" by clicking play on the SoundCloud player below. The song will be available for purchase online within the next couple of weeks.

Peace.

-- Mac

The Dream Of The Rood

Mac — Sat, 07 Apr 2012 01:01:07 +0000

This ancient Anglo-Saxon poem, possibly written by Caedmon or Cynewulf, is more than a thousand years old and possibly one of the oldest preserved works of Old English literature.

Listen as I recite this stunning work of poetry for Good Friday.

Peace.

A New Year's Blessing

Mac — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 21:02:50 +0000

Though the ancient Gaels once recognized the beginning of the new year with the coming of “the dark days” at the festival of Samhain (Summer’s End) in late October or early November, the celebration of New Year’s according to the modern Gregorian calendar has also been recognized and celebrated by Gaels for several hundred years now.

In Scottish Gaelic, New Year’s Eve is “Oidhche Challainn” (roughly pronounced “uh-yee-ch-ya chaw-leen”) and New Year’s Day is simply called “Latha Challainn” (roughly pronounced “law chaw-leen” with the ‘ch’ as in the word “loch”). The word “Callainn” comes from the Latin word “Kalandae”, from which we get the word “calendar.”

The following prayer is an example of an invocation that was common amongst the ancient Gaels of the Western Isles of Scotland, who used to pray first thing upon rising on New Year’s Day. This particular prayer was collected by Alexander Carmichael, the celebrated 19^th century folklorist in his great work, “The Carmina Gadelica.”

Here it is, first in Gaelic:

Beannachadh Bliadhn’ Ùir

Dhè, beannaich dhomh an là ùir

Nach do thuradh dhomh roimhe riamh

Is ann gu beannachadh do ghnùis

Thug thu ’n ùine seo dhomh, a’ Dhia

Beannaich thusa dhomh mo shùil

Beannaicheadh mo shùil na chì

Beannachaidh mise mo nàbaidh

Beannaicheadh mo nàbaidh mi

Dhè, tabhair dhomh-sa crìdhe glan

Na leig à seall do shùla mi

Beannaich dhomh mo ghin ’s mo bhean

’S beannaich dhomh mo nearc ’s mo nì

And now in English:

The Blessing Of The New Year

God, bless to me the new day

This day, which has never before been created

For it is to bless your countenance

That you have given me this time O God

Bless to me my sight

Bless my eye and all it sees

I will bless my neighbour

May my neighbour bless me

God, give me a clean heart

And do not let me out of your sight

Bless to me my children and my wife

And bless all that you have given me

(Caveat: In the translation, I have taken a few liberties to allow it to flow a little better in modern English. So for all of you scholars out there, please know that this is not a direct translation, it is a translation that I hope captures the spirit of the prayer for the modern English reader. No academic offense is intended.)

***

So as the old year wanes and the new year waxes before us like a bright, full moon on the horizon, I want to thank you all for your support of my creative works this last year; for visiting my websites, joining my Facebook page, following me on Twitter, Reverbnation and Google+, reading my writings and poetry, listening to and purchasing my music and taking the time to interact with me with your inspiring words of encouragement.

I wish you all the peace and abundant blessings of God, who loves and cares for us all, in this coming year.

So with that, I’ll leave you with this old Gaelic blessing:

“Gun èireadh an rathad geal romhaibh tron bliadhna seo agus gu bràth” (“May a bright, clear road rise up before you this year and forever”).

Peace.

-- Mac

Photo credit: I want to give special thanks to Alexei Novikov for making his work "Moonlit River", available for re-distribution. You can see more of Alexei's work here.

Hey The Gift, Ho The Gift!

Mac — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 20:37:39 +0000

Tonight is Christmas Eve and as the sun begins to set and as I prepare my mind and heart, meditating and reflecting on God's loving gift of kindness and friendship to humanity; He, extending His hand of peace to us in the person of Jesus the Christ, I began to sing an ancient Gaelic Christmas Carol, "Heire Bannag, Hoire Bannag", which means (Hey The Gift, Ho The Gift).

In both Scottish Gaelic and Irish, the word for Christmas is "Nollaig". The word can be traced back to the Old Irish word "notlaic", which comes from the Latin word "natalicii", meaning "a birthday party." The word also carries a specific reference to the birth of Jesus. So, if you want to say Christmas Eve in Scottish Gaelic, you would say "Oidhche Nollaig" (roughly pronounced "uh-yee-ch-ya nol-lack")

But there is another way of saying Christmas Eve in Scottish Gaelic, "Oidhche Nam Bannag" (roughly pronounced "uh-yee-ch-ya nam bah-nuck") or "The Night Of The Gifts."

According to Alexander Carmichael, the author of the epic work, "Carmina Gadelica", there once was an old Gaelic Christmas Eve (Oidhche Nam Bannag) custom of "Nuallan Nollaig" or "Christmas Rejoicing" that involved young men going about from house to house singing Christmas carols or chants.

The men were called "Gillean Nollaig" or "Christmas Lads" or "Nuallairean" ("Rejoicers") and they would gather together in small groups and then choose a leader. The leader was known as "am fear-duan" ("the song-man") and the rest were known as "na fir-fuinne" ("the chorus-men"). This roving troupe of young men would travel from home to home loudly singing carols and chants, the leader singing out a verse and the others responding with the chorus. After they finished, they would be rewarded with a gift; a tasty bread (or cake) known as "bannag."

Here's the song I began singing this afternoon as I reflected on God's gift to us, first in the original Gaelic:

Heire Bannag, Hoire Bannag

Heire Bannag, Hoire Bannag

Heire Bannag, air a bheò.

Mac na niula, Mac na neula

Mac na runna, Mac na reula

[Sèist]

Mac na dìle, Mac na deire

Mac na spire, Mac na speura

[Sèist]

Mac na lasa, Mac na leusa

Mac na cruinne, Mac na cè

[Sèist]

Mac nan dùla, Mac nan neamha

Mac na gile, Mac na grèine

[Sèist]

Mac Moire na Dè-meine

'S Mac Dè tus gach sgeula

[Sèist]

And again in English:

Hey the Gift, Ho the Gift

Hey the Gift on (for) the living

Son of the dawn, Son of the cloud

Son of the planet, Son of the star

{Chorus}

Son of the rain, Son of the deep (water)

Son of the welkin, son of the sky

[Chorus]

Son of the flame, Son of the blaze

Son of the earth, Son of the universe

[Chorus]

Son of the elements, son of the heavens

Son of the moon, Son of the sun

[Chorus]

Son of Mary of the godly mind

And the Son of God, origin of every story

[Chorus]

(N.B. - The "welkin" refers to the "vault of the sky" or the "celestial abode of God.")

***

So as I sing this song to myself, I'm reminded that Jesus is our "bannag"; He is our gift. He is our reward, though we have done nothing to really deserve it. In fact the bannag can't ever be earned. It's a free gift, given to us simply because God loves us, accepts us and wants us. And though we don't sing to receive the gift, we can sing in response to the Gift. We can rejoice like the "nuallairean" (rejoicers) of old, coming to God and lifting up our voices in praise to the Son, who is the origin of every story and every living thing.

Nollaig Chridheil dhuibh uile (Merry Christmas to you all)!

-Mac

Photo credit: My grateful thanks to Neil Mallett for licensing his photography with a Creative Commons license and allowing me to share it with you.

Oidhche Nan Seachd Suipearan (The Night Of The Seven Suppers)

Mac — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 20:48:15 +0000

Believe it or not, the winter solstice has become one of my favourite times of the year! Though I'm not particularly fond of the dark and cold, horribly prone to fits of depression and keenly aware that winter is yet just beginning in earnest, this time of year is surprisingly a time of hope and great joy for me!

This is the time when we in the Northern hemisphere receive the least amount of daylight and the darkness is at the zenith of it's power and influence; when the air is cold and the land is barren. But it is also the last day before, when once again, we embark upon our journey back to spring and the sun begins to linger in the sky just a wee bit longer every day; the promise of a spring soon to come, if we will just persevere.

It is an end and it is a beginning.

Light.

Hope.

The promise of spring.

Life.

Warmth.

Re-birth.

It is a memorial that salutes the cycle of darkness and light, slumber and awakening, infertility and fertility, death and life, burial and resurrection; an ancient promise that hearkens back to the Beginning of Beginnings.

In Scottish Gaelic the winter solstice is known as "Oidhche Nan Seachd Suipearan" or "The Night Of The Seven Suppers."

Though not much is known of the ancient customs and practices regarding "Oidhche Nan Seachd Suipearan," one can imagine that this phrase perhaps involved a winter solstice celebration; one last large feast prior to settling in to face the lean hardships and bleakness of winter. At the very least, it's likely that the cold, dark northern climate made it a necessity to eat 'extra' meals, hence the "seven suppers." As a Canadian, I can certainly attest to the fact that the body craves more food (meat and whole grains in particular) during the bleak cold of the "dark months," even with all of our modern amenities to comfort the body (The ancient Gaels also called the winter months of December through February "An Dubhlachd" meaning "The Darkness." In modern Scottish Gaelic, "An Dubhlachd" is the name given to the month of December, the darkest month in our modern calendar).

This ancient phrase hearkens back to another time and another place; a time before modern conveniences, commercialized holidays, stressed-outs shoppers and busy, bustling calendars bursting at the seams. It echoes a time when people had no choice but to slow down, live in harmony with life and land, God and nature; marking and commemorating the ebb and flow, the comings and goings, the times and seasons and the cycles and rhythms of life with sacred reverence.

And though it seems that The Night Of The Seven Suppers is one of those “Celtic” customs now shrouded in the mystery and speculation of romance and poetry; it's customs and traditions now all but relegated (as are many wonderful ancient Gaelic practices ) to the mumblings and whispers of long-forgotten ghosts urging us to remember "the ancient paths", I believe there is a deep wisdom and a clear, poignant message here for the living...

Here and now.

But like all good mysteries, I'm not going to spoil the joy and wonder of solving it yourself. That will be for you to puzzle out as you suck in the snap of the chill night air on a long walk through the snow, revel in the warm fellowship of a meal with family and friends, raise a toast to hope, life and the spring to come, and snuggle up to a crackling fire, staring dreamily into it for what seems like an eternity; basking in it’s magical glow and listening in rapt attention to the ancient Voice of Wisdom all around you.

"Chan eil an t-earrach fad' air dheireadh, nuair a thig an geamhradh" (When winter comes, spring isn't far behind) - Gaelic proverb

***

Photo credit: Many thanks to George Hinchliffe for his striking photo "Winter Berry." You can see more of George's work on Flickr.

Lo, A Great Light Has Come/In The Company Of Friends

Mac — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 03:52:01 +0000

Hurrah! More great news!

My latest release, "Lo, A Great Light Has Come/In The Company of Friends" - six and a half minutes of enchantingly magical Celtic music with a distinict 'mid-winter' feel - is now available on CD Baby.

These two tunes - a slow air and waltz - were freshly penned this year especially for the Christmas season. Featuring the hauntingly beautiful sound of the Irish Uilleann Pipes, this set of tunes will have you reaching for the egg-nog and putting on your wassailing clothes.

Take a listen to a streaming sample by clicking on the SoundCloud player below and then purchase this single on CD Baby for just a buck. The tune will also be available on iTunes by the end of this week and on most other online music retailers such as Google Music, Amazon, Spotify, Rhapsody and more soon!

Nollaig Chridheil dhuibh uile (Merry Christmas to you all)!

Dancing In The Morning Re-released!

Mac — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 20:46:52 +0000

Great news!

Back in 2002, I recorded a high-energy Maritime-influenced Celtic-Folk album with good friends & colleagues, Starlene Betts, Adam Mcintyre, and Tina Betts Provo. After nearly 10 years, Dancing In The Morning has been re-released in digital format.

Initially, you can purchase it on CD Baby for just $7.99, but within the next week or two, you'll be able to get it on iTunes, Google Music, Amazon, and most other online music retailers! Why not take a moment, click play on the SoundCloud player and listen to the title track of the album, the story of an immigrant man who finds faith and hope in the midst of great loss and suffering?

After that, you can purchase the album on CD Baby by using the "Buy The CD" link below. If you prefer iTunes you can click here. Or if you have a favourite online music retailer, just search for Mac MacKenzie.

You can find out more about An Realt here.

Enjoy!

Isein Bhòidhich

Mac — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 03:25:06 +0000

Recently, I recorded a song entitled Isein Bhòidhich, which is Gaelic for "Pretty Bird." The song was written by Dòmhnall MacPhàil of Grabhair, in the parish of Lochs on the Isle of Lewis, located in the Western Isles of Scotland.

Donald was a soldier who fought at the Battle of Mons in the First World War. He wrote this deeply moving song whilst on the battlefield not knowing if he would ever return to his love and the land of his youth.

In the poem, he speaks affectionately of the land he knew so well; places such as Gleann Grabhair (Glen Gravir) and A' Chabaig (The Cabag, also known as Kebock Head).

In the photo above, you can see Glen Grabhair looking out towards The Cabag in the far off distance.

You can hear me taking a go at this wonderful song by clicking on the SoundCloud player below or by either visiting my SoundCloud page or my Reverbnation page.

A huge thanks to Catrìona Nic a' Ghobhainn and BBC Alba from whom I first heard this song.

Tha mi dòchas gun còrd e ruibh (I hope you enjoy it)!

***

Isein Bhòidhich

We were carried in vehicles

Out through green heathered glens

We forsook the land of Alba (Scotland)

To face the war and the field

We didn't despise the attempt

But the victory was futile

The enemy poured out upon us

Like a flood-tide in the narrows

Many kind, decent friends

Close to my mind and my heart

I've seen flat on their back

Frozen motionless in time

When the summer sun returns

The birds will sing in the treetops

And the little hillock where

The hero's cold beds lie

Will be so green

Little bird who's travelling

To your nest in the land of heather

If you visit the Isle of Lewis

Give my farewell to my love

Give my farewell to my mother

And to my loving, gentle friends

Tell them that my thoughts are with them

And that I'm facing the war and the field

It's a pity that I couldn't watch with you

The moorlands and the narrows

That I could see the sight of Gravir

Where I parted from my love

And I could see Cabag, a familiar sight

With mist about it's peak

Where I was raised from my youth

So filled with sorrow

That I will not see you again

***

Isein Bhòidhich by Taisdealach

Latha a' Chuimhneachaidh

Mac — Sat, 12 Nov 2011 05:05:10 +0000

Air an latha àraidh a tha seo an Canada - Latha a' Chuimhneachaidh - tha mi air son an cothrom a ghabhail deoch-shlàinte a thogail air chuimhne a h-uile saighdearan gun d'fhuair bàs air son an saorsa 's am beatha a th'againn an-diugh.

Bidh cuimhne oirbh uile gu bràth!

On this special day here in Canada - Remembrance Day - I'd like to take the opportunity to raise a toast in honour of all the soldiers who have died for the freedom and life we have today. You will all be remembered forever!

Photo credit: Roger Mateo Poquet

Mi Fhìn, Mi Fhìn!

Mac — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 23:00:50 +0000

"Ancient Scotland" by Lionel GroveHere's a short traditional Gaelic story of a sprite named 'Sligeachan' and his mischievous son who has the tables turned on him by a wily old woman!

I first heard this story on Ruairidh MacIlleathain's (Roddy MacLean's) wonderful series for Gaelic learners, "Litir Do Luchd-Ionnsachaidh" (Letter for Learners) presented weekly on BBC Alba (BBC Scotland). If you are a learner of Gaelic, you ought to be listening to this series!

You can listen to me telling this story in Gaelic while you read the English, by clicking the play button in the Soundcloud player below. For more storytelling, Celtic music, Gaelic singing, articles and poetry, why not visit my Facebook or Reverbnation page?

***

Mi Fhìn, Mi Fhìn!

"I'd like to tell you a story.

A long time ago, there was a brownie name Sligeachan who lived in Linne Na Slige (Pond of The Shell) near Loch Tay in Scotland. Sligeachan had a son and he would often bother the old woman on The Great Plain. He would ask her what her name was.

But she was wily.

She would only say, “I am myself, just myself.”

One day, he was terribly bothersome, “What’s your name?” he asked yet again.

“Myself, myself,” answered the woman.

Finally, she grew tired of the young brownie and she threw a pan of hot water on his bare legs!

When Sligeachan heard the young man screeching, he came right away!

“What happened?” he asked.

“My legs were sgalded with hot water!”, said the young sprite.

“And who did it?”, asked Sligeachan.

“Myself, myself!”, said the young man.

“That’s good,” answered Sligeachan, “if it had been anyone else, I would have punished him!”

It’s likely that the young brownie never bothered the woman anymore and Sligeachan never found out who threw the hot water on his son!

And there you have it!"

***

Mi Fhìn, Mi Fhìn by Taisdealach