@ALBUM: The Visit Loreena McKennitt NOTES: I have long considered the creative impulse to be a visit 1 a thing of grace, perhaps, not commanded or owned so much as awaited, prepared for. A thing, also, of mystery. This recording endeavors to explore some of that mystery. It looks as well into the earlier eastern influences of the Celts, the likelihood that they started from as far away as Eastern Europe before being driven to the western margins of Europe in the British Isles. With their musical influences came rituals around birth and death which treated the land as holy and haunted; this life itself as a visid. Afterwards, one's soul might move to another plane, or another form 1 perhaps a tree. The Celts knew then, as we are re-learning now, a deep respect for all the life around them. This recording aspires to be nothing so much as a reflection into the weave of these things. QR Quinlan Road Produced by Loreena McKennitt Co-produced by Brian Hughes All tracks recorded and mixed by Jeff Wolpert at Inception Sound, Toronto. Additional recording by John Whynot at Studio 306, Toronto, and Grant Avenue Studios, Hamilton. Mastered by George Graves at Lacquer Channel. The assistance of FACTOR is gratefully acknowledged. Design by Scott McKowen. All photographs (C) by Elisabeth Feryn, taken on location at Quinta Das Torres, Azcitao, Portugal. (P)(C) 1991 QUINLAN ROAD All songs SOCAN "If you would like to know more about Loreena McKennitt and her music or receive regular mailings about her concerts, tours and recording activities, please send a self-addressed envelope to quinlan Road, RR5, Box 933, Stratford, Ontario, Canada, N5A 7M3." @SONG: All Souls Night 5:04 Music and Lyrics by Loreena McKennitt Bonfires dot the rolling hillsides Figures dance around and around To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness Moving to the pagan sound. Somewhere in a hidden memory Images float before my eyes Of fragrant nights of straw and of bonfires And dancing till the next sunrise. Chorus: I can see lights in the distance Trembling in the dark cloak of night Candles and lanterns are dancing, dancing A waltz on All Souls Night. Figures of cornstalks bend in the shadows eld up tall as the flames leap high The green knight holds the holly bush To mark where the old year passes by. Chorus Bonfires dot the rolling hillsides Figures dance around and around To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness And moving to the pagan sound. Standing on the bridge that crosses The river that goes out to the sea The wind is full of a thousand voices They pass by the bridge and me. Chorus L.M.: Vocals, Keyboards, Accordion BRIAN HUGHES: Balalaika, Guitar AL CROSS: Drums GEORGE KOLLER: Bass, Cello, Mad Fiddle, Tamboura This peace was inspired by the imagery of a Japanese tradition which celebrated the souls of the departed by sending candle-lit lanterns out on waterways leading to the ocean, sometimes in little boats; along with the imagery of the Celtic All Souls Night celebrations, at which time huge bonfires were lit not only to mark the new year, but to warm the souls of the departed. 1 L.M. @SONG: Bonny Portmore 3:57 Music and Lyrics Traditional O Bonny Portmore I am sorry to see Such a woeful destruction of your ornament tree For it stood on your shore for many's the long day Till the long boats from Antrim came to float it away. O Bonny Portmore you shine where you stand And the more I think on you the more I think long If I had you now as I had once before All the Lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore. All the Birds in the forest they bitterly weep Saying "where will we shelter or where will we sleep?" For the Oak and the Ash they are all cutten down And the walls of Bonny Portmore are all down to the ground. O Bonny Portmore you shine where you stand And the more I think on you the more I think long If I had you now as I had once before All the Lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore. L.M.: Vocals, Keyboards ANNE BOURNE: Cello TOM HAZLETT: Bass PATRICK HUTCHINSON: Uillean Pipes The destruction of old growth forests has become an important conservation issue in recent years, but it is not a new phenomenon. Over the centuries many of Ireland's old oak forests were leveled for military and shipbuilding purposes. Only recently has there been an effort to reestablish these great hardwoods. The Great Oak of Portmore stood on the property of Portmore Castle on the shore of Lough Beg. 1 L.M. @SONG: Between The Shadows 4:03 Music by Loreena McKennitt L.M.: Harp, Keyboards BRIAN HUGHES: Guitar, Balalaika RICK LAZAR: Drums, Percussion GEORGE KOLLER: Bass HUGH MARSH: Fiddle @SONG: The Lady of Shalott 11:05 Music by Loreena McKennitt Lyrics by Alfred Lord Tennyson (1843) On either side of the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road run by To many-towered Camelot; and up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle embowers The Lady of Shalott. Only reapers, reaping early, In among the bearded barley Hear a song that echoes cheerly >From the river winding clearly, Down to tower'd Camelot; And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers `'tis the fairy The Lady of Shalott' There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott. And Moving through a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot; And sometimes thro' the mirror blue The Knights come riding two and two. She hath no loyal Knight and true, The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often thro' the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot; Or when the Moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed. 'I am half sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott. A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot A red-cross Knight for ever kneel'd To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote Shalott. His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; >From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal-black curls as on he rode, As he rode down to camelot. >From the bank and from the river He flashed into the crystal mirror, 'Tirra lirra' by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces thro' the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; 'The curse is come upon me,' cried The Lady of Shalott. In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining. Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd Camelot; Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat, And round about the prow she wrote The Lady of Shalott. And down the river's dim expanse Like some bold seer in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance1 With a glassy countenance Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darkened wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot. For ere she reachd upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott. Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, Dead-pale between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott. Who ist this? And what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they crossed themselves for fear, All the Knights at Camelot; But Lancelot mused a little space He said, 'she has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott.' L.M.: Vocals, Keyboards BRIAN HUGHES: Balalaika, Guitar TOM HAZLETT: Bass ANNE BOURNE: Cello HUGH MARSH: Fiddle But who hath seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement seen her stand? Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott? @SONG: Greensleeves 4:15 Music Traditional, Lyrics by King Henry VIII Alas my love you do me wrong To cast me off discourteously; And I have loved you oh so long Delighting in your company. Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves my heart of gold Greensleeves was my heart of joy And who but my Lady Greensleeves I have been ready at your hand To grant whatever thou would'st crave; I have waged both life and land Your love and goodwill for to have. Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves my heart of gold Greensleeves was my heart of joy And who but my Lady Greensleeves Thy petticoat of sendle white With gold embroidered gorgeously; Thy petticoat of silk and white And these I bought gladly. Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves my heart of gold Greensleeves was my heart of joy And who but my Lady Greensleeves L.M.: Vocals, Keyboards BRIAN HUGHES: Guitar GEORGE KOLLER: Cello I always wondered how Tom Waits would sing "Greensleeves." When preparing my previous recording, PARALLEL DREAMS, while waiting to do something else, we accidentally and spontaneously recorded this track in one take without ever intending to release it. However, here it is, Tom. 1 L.M. @SONG: Tango to Evora 4:03 Music by Loreena McKennitt L.M.: Harp, Keyboards, Vocals, Accordian BRIAN HUGHES: Guitar, Balalaika TOM HAZLETT: Bass RICK LAZAR: Udu Drum, Percussion HUGH MARSH: Fiddle This piece was originally conceived and recorded for the National Film Board of Canada's The Burning Times, directed by Donna Reid. - L.M. @SONG: Courtyard Lullaby 4:50 Music and Lyrics by Loreena McKennitt Wherein the deep night sky The stars lie in its embrace The courtyard still in its sleep And peace comes over your face 'Come to me' it sings 'Hear the pulse of the land The Ocean's rhythms pull To hold your heart in its hand' And when the wind draws strong Across the cypress trees The Nightbirds cease their songs So gathers memories. Last night you spoke of a dream Where forests stretched to the east And each bird sang its song A Unicorn joined in a feast And in a corner stood A pomegranate tree With wild flowers there No mortal eye could see Yet still some mystery befalls Sure as the cock crows at morn The world in stillness keeps The secret of babes to be born I heard an old voice say 'Don't go far from the land The seasons have their way No mortal can understand.' L.M.: Vocals, Harp, Keyboards, Ukalin BRIAN HUGHES: Electric Guitar ANNE BOURNE: Cello TOM HAZLETT: Bass The photographs which appear in this booklet were taken at Quinta das Torres, a 16th century hunting lodge near Azcitao, Portugal, where Elisabeth Feryn and I stayed for a week. Within the lodge was a courtyard, marked at each corner by orange trees. The feel of the place reminded me of the Unicorn tapestries which hang in the Cloisters in New York City. The tapestries and the lodge are both rich with earthy, pre-Christian iconography 1 depicting the mysterious life and death cycle of the seasons. It was in this courtyard that this piece was conceived. 1 L.M. @SONG: The Old Ways 5:50 Music and Lyrics by Loreena McKennitt The thundering waves are calling me home to you The poinding sea is calling me home to you. On a dark new year's night On the west coast of Clare I heard your voice singing Your eyes danced the song Your hands played the tune T'was a vision before me. We left the music behind and the dance carried on As we stole away to the seashore We smelt the brine, felt the wind in our hair And with sadness you paused. Suddenly I knew that you'd have to go My world was not yours, your eyes told me so Yet it was there I felt the crossroads of time And I wondered why. As we cast our gaze on the tumbling sea A vision came o'er me Of thundering hoves and beating wings In clouds above. As you turned to go i heard you call my name. You were like a bird in a cage, spreading its Wings to fly 'The old ways are lost' you sang as you fles And I wondered why L.M.: Vocals, Harp, Whistle, Bodhran, Keyboards AL CROSS: Drums TOM HAZLETT: Bass PATRICK HUTCHINSON: Uillean Pipes HUGH MARSH: Fiddle BRIAN HUGHES: Guitar I spent a most haunting New Year's Eve in Doolin, County Clare, Ireland some years ago, and was moved by the antiquity of some of the celebrations. Yet I was met by deep reminders that they may be the remnants of the old world meeting the "new." 1 L.M. @SONG: Cymbeline 4:48 Music by Loreena McKennitt Lyrics by William Shakespeare (c. 1609) Fear no more the heat o' th' sun Nor the furious winters' rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this and come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' th' great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak. The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this and come to dust. All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee and come to dust. L.M.: Vocals, Keyboards, Harp GEORGE KOLLER: Bass, Tamboura, Sitar Here are William Shakespeare's thoughts on this earthly visit. This song occurs towards the end of his "romance" play CYMBELINE, which was written near the end of the author's life. The play is set in ancient Britain when the Romans were invading the last remaining outpost of the old Celtic order. 1 L.M. No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! Ghost unlaid forbear thee! Nothing ill come near thee! Quiet consummation have, And renowned be thy grave!