Tháinig Orla Keane go hócáid bheag ag CIACLA inné le aithne a chur ar chuid de na daoine a bhíonn ag obair do phobal na hÉireann i gCathair na nAingeal. Is í Consal Éireannach LA í. Ní raibh consal againn roimhe seo.
Comhghairdeas ó chroí leí agus F Á I L T E. Cill Dara Abú!
Matthew, Amanda, Orla, Katherine, Rachel, Sinéad, Robert, Jenn, Bernard
Tá áthas an domhain orainn ár gconsal féin a bheith againn faoi dheireadh!
Céad míle fáilte, Orla. Go raibh maith agat, Robert (ardchonsal Mheiriceá Thiar), as Orla a chur in aithne dúinn.
Tá muid ag súil go mór le bheith ag cuidiú le Orla pé chaoi is féidir linn.
Os rud é go bhfuil Gaeilge, scileanna le origami, agus Seapáinis (ó 1-10 ar a laghad) aici, feicimid nach mbeidh stró ar bith againn bheith ag obair léi 🙂
Go raibh maith agaibh, Matthew agus lucht CIACLA as an bhfáilte álainn sin.
CIACLA: CONTEMPORARY IRISH ARTS CENTER, LOS ANGELES
nó ELLA más mian libh.
Ionad nua do chultúr na hÉireann le fáil againn i gCathair na nAingeal. Beidh sé ag oscailt ag a 6in ar an Satharn beag seo, Meitheamh 15, 2019. Bhí seans agam féachaint isteach ann inné. Béarla is mó in úsáid agam inné is mar sin i mBéarla a bhuail na smaointe mé. Mar sin, rabhadh: Béarla ag teacht agus ráiméas, seans.
I think in Irish usually. I heard CIACLA pronounced by someone lately to rhyme with fiacla (fee a kla went to key a cla) and it made me smile. The key to our clan? Fiacla means teeth in Irish and art certainly has teeth. It can bite into falsehoods and expose their messiness.
CIACLA is a new cultural haven for Irish artistic energies that is situated in a train station (Bergamot Station) in LA and that seems wonderfully appropriate. We are in transit and can lose our most precious connections to being Irish if we are not careful. Forgive me. You may have missed the first bit above in Irish. CIALCA is opening in Los Angeles this Saturday, June 15th. I got a peek in yesterday. Before I get way too distracted with thoughts and tangents, Go see it.
Amanda Coogan’s beautiful The Ladder is Always There, the opening installation in CIACLA inspires many thoughts. Art is rebelliously democratic. People will take their own interpretations from what they see. My ramblings (be warned) on it follow below.
I was taken by the gathers, the bits bundled together and tied, like nodes on a plant or knots on a rope or a tree. I saw twisted sails and weights and thought of Achill Island and a deserted village and a people and language forgotten. Mostly I default towards language.
The thought of knots led me to the Welsh NOT, a way of ensuring Welsh children did not speak their own language and a play on the word KNOT. A colonial tool of linguicide like the bata scoir that had that same function in Ireland to try to erase our identity also by punishing children for speaking Irish. We have so many knots that make identity a tricky subject.
Imagine elements of DNA as circles turned and twisted into geometric trinities. Na tríonna. The threes. Knots of code of identity. Bundles (ceangaltáin grma, Elizabeth) of knowledge.
We often think of Irish art as Celtic knots, like the knots on strands of DNA. It has depth and turns and twists. Other ancient peoples used knots. Imagine a system of math where every knot is a number. The Incas did and created it. Imagine a writing system that seems linear, lines crossing a central line to indicate letters but with each letter assigned several other levels of meaning. Each meaning is related to wood and nature, to the physical and the personality. Ogham, our ancient writing system has that and more. Each letter is not 1 or 2 or 3 dimensional but a work of art and sound and symbolism and philosophy and history with order and rhythm and rhyme. We should be celebrating this from the rooftops. Our art that we have had in our language for so long is extraordinary. This colors my interpretation of art.
Such were my thoughts as I wandered under sail-like sheets at CIACLA. What then, is contemporary Irish when I was immersed in the ancient? Everything is contemporary in its own time and everything changes. CIA (think foreign agents taking down bad guys) in the English sense definitely does NOT apply here. I let my mind go to Irish again to another cia (cé), one which means who or which.
Nífioscia canachineál: No one knows what his kind sang (their ways). Nooneknowswhere hispeoplecamefrom.
The Irish word can means song or way. Conas atá tú? An can céanna. How are you? The same [old] song (the same way as always). This is the art of the language. We are full of song and stories. The visual of overhead twisted sails was working its magic again.
I heard another person pronounce CIACLA as Sea-Acla and that brought me to back to Oileán Acla, the island of Achill (Acaill) and the Sea of Acaill, Sea (of Acaill) Acla. The word ACLA cannot exist on its own. It says it is of something else. The thought delights me. I am NOT. I amwith context. The Irish are not what we were, or told we were, nor what we will be. Yet, it all forms part of us: billowing stories, some not yet told. I duck under the sails and think of the gleoiteoga, the púcáin, and boats like them in Cornwall. With no wind, there are of little use; with no breath, we are nothing. Movement is life. Everything changes.
My musings tell me that we, as a people, are fascinating, something I note when I look at The Ladder is Always There installation that has the sea on the walls around me. A new perspective makes me forget where I am. Art comes with eyes that understand lies.
As I moved in the room I imagined I felt aer Acla, the rush of wind and salty air. Seo mé i seomra, a bhuail mé le teanga eile sa bhéal anocht, faraor. Ach, mar sin féin, caitheadh siar (nó soir) go Maigh Eo mé. Contemporary is now. It always was. A term of contradiction. Yet Coogan’s work throws me back in time. Turmoils and a mangled mess of memories may see the sails as a fabric of Yeats’ Cloths of Heaven or whatever we wish for. I see simple cloths like the flour bags my mother would wash and rewash and sew together to make us sheets.
I talked with those at CIACLA. Some dream up these images and creations and others walk stages. I found out that people far younger than mise among them still sing in sean-nós (the old style) and are in tune with rhythms that keep truth firmly knotted, unlike beads on a poorly constructed abacus with a frame of falsehood. Fiú nuair nach bhfeicimid í, there IS always a ladder. It is always firm on the floor. We need our community to hold it and let us get the wider view while firmly rooted in who we are.
Ádh mór libh ar fad! Mór an pléisiúr casadh libh aréir,
I’ve run out of steam but these are some suggestions for those taking part in the Irish language competitions at the Irish Fair. You can choose others of course.
Fadó, fadó, agus is fadó a bhí, bhí Rí ann in Éirinn. Fear teasaí ab ea é. Bhí eagla ar gach duine roimhe.
Bhí capall ag an Rí. Bhí an-mheas ag an Rí ar an gcapall agus is minic a théadh sé ag marcaíocht uirthí. Bhí go maith is ní raibh go holc.
Lá amháin, áfach, tháinig tinneas ar an gcapall. Thug an Rí ordú dá chuid fear aire a thabhairt di, agus í a leigheas gan mhoill.
Dúirt sé leo scéal i dtaobh an chapaill a chur chuige gach lá. Rinneadh siad amhlaidh. Thagadh fear chuige gach aon lá.
“Cén chaoi a bhfuil an capall inniu?” a deireadh an Rí.
“Go dona, a Rí,” a deireadh an fear.
Lean an scéal mar sin go ceann tamaill. Tháinig fearg ar an Rí sa deireadh agus ar seisean: “Má thagann aon fhear chugam, lena rá liom go bhfuil mo chapall marbh, cuirfear an fear sin chun báis.”
Fuair an capall bás an lá sin. Bhí eagla ar na fir. Ní rachadh éinne acu chun an Rí leis an scéal ar eagla go gcuirfeadh sé chun báis é. Labhair seanduine críonna. “Rachaidh mise chuige,” ar seisean.
Chuaigh an seanduine chun an Rí. “Cén chaoi a bhfuil an capall inniu?” arsa an Rí. “Tá an capall san áit a mbíonn sí i gcónaí,” arsa an seanduine. “Tá sí ina luí gan cor aisti. Ní féidir léi aon ní a ithe ná a ól. Ní féidir léi a h-anáil a tharraingt…”
“Tá sí marbh, mar sin,” arsa an Rí.
“Tú féin a dúirt é, a Rí,” arsa an seanduine.
Thuig an Rí an cleas d’imir an seanduine air. Dá mhéad brón a bhí air níor fhéad sé gan gáire a dhéanamh.
Conradh na Gaeilge (The Gaelic League) has a branch in LA: Craobh na nAingeal.
Le cúnamh ó gach duine seo mar a tharlaíonn Deireadh Seachtaine Gaeltachta
Ceardlanna de dhíth. I mbliana, seo a bhí linn:
Dennis Doyle: Cláirseach. GRMA Erin le Comhaltas, Ceol na nAingeal, a thug na cláirseacha ar iasacht dúinn.
Desirée Sauerbier: Ealaín. Féach ar a dhéanann Desirée anseo.
Jean Pickard: Bodhrán. Féach ar a dhéanann Jean le Pint of Irish anseo.
Molly Alice Hoy: Scottish Songs (A hit!)
David Wogan: Hurling. Féach ar a dhéanann David le Play Hurling LA anseo.
Erin & Liana: Rince. Féach ar a dhéanann Erin le Céilí Rua anseo & Liana anseo
Thaitin na ceardlanna le daoine.
Múinteoirí de dhíth: Seo iad
Liam Ó Cuinneagáin BA. HDip Psychology and Modern Irish. School principal (1972-1994). Chairperson of Údarás na Gaeltachta (2002-2012). Co-founder of Oideas Gael, the hugely successful Irish language learning center for adults (1984). He has taught at many Immersion weekends before and we are thrilled to welcome him back.
Bairbre Ní Chiardha B. Ed. H. Dip ATG (1979) UCD. Lecturer and Co-Director of the Center for Celtic Studies, UWM. Author of Irish textbooks. She has taught at Immersion Weekends in Milwaukee, Madison, Bloomington, San Francisco, Kansas, Olympia, Cedar Rapids, and LA.
Bhí Audrey ag múineadh is bhí sí iontach!
Audrey Nickel is an Irish speaker, teacher, and singer. In addition to being “The Geeky Gaeilgeoir,” Audrey is the author of “The Irish Gaelic Tattoo Handbook,” which was published in May 2017, by Bradan Press, Nova Scotia.
Bhí ionad don TEG againn i mbliana.
Seo iad thug faoi:
Bhí Céilí againn:
Is Pop-Up Gaeltacht
Bhí daltaí de dhíth is tháinig siad ó i bhfad i gcéin:
Ní raibh muid in ann breathnú ar an scannán ann mar sin seo clár faoi Ealaín na hÉireann. Déanach ach bain taitneamh as anseo.
Bhí sibh ar fad I O N T A C H!!! Chabhraigh sibh go mór linn. Buíoch!
Buíochas le .
We are very grateful to the Irish Government for its Heritage Grant that helps keep the cost of the Immersion Weekend down and affordable. We could not have managed such an undertaking without them.
Seo a rinneamar:
Clár Ama – Tentative Schedule
FRI
6pm
Orientation Meet & Greet ✓
6:30
Dinner ✓
7:30
Class 1 Song, Hurling Terms or TEG Prep or Basics ✓
8 – 10
Film or Games : X
SAT
8:30
Bricfeasta – Coffee/ Tea/ Snacks ✓
9:00
Class 2 or TEG ✓
10:00
Class 3 or TEG ✓
11:00
Brunch (TEG exams continue) ✓
12:00
Class 4 or TEG ✓
1:00
Class 5 ✓
2:00
Class 6: 1st Prep for Pop-Up + Get Party Pieces Ready ✓
3:00
Workshop: Hurling ✓
5:00
Workshops: Harp / Bodhrán / Song / Art / Dance – Rotation ✓
6:00
Final Rehearsals for Pop-Up + ✓
6:30
Dinner ✓ / Pop-Up X
7:30
Scoraíocht ✓
9:00
Céilí ✓
11:00
Codladh sámh ✓
SUN
8:30
Breakfast ✓
9:00
Class 7 ✓
10:00
Workshop – níos déanaí. Pop-Up Pic ✓
11:00
Brunch ✓
12:00
Pics & Songs & Caint & ceardlann ✓
1:00
Meitheal ag tabhairt cuidiú leis an nglanadh suas ✓
Scilling. Scilling an rí. Seans go raibh daoine ar meisce fadó nuair a thóg siad scilling an rí, rud a dúirt leo go raibh siad ina shaighdiúirí agus go mbeadh orthu daoine a mharadh for king and country. Ní raibh scilling le fáil do Dhún Beag. Roghnaigh siad an taobh dorcha agus rinne siad sin le spraoi. Conspóid? Dhera, nach cuma. Píosa craic le bheith acu. Is mar gheall ar sin, thug siad cumhacht do dheachtóir, do thíoránach. An raibh sibh ar meisce ansin i nDún Beag? An raibh anam agaibh riamh? An leanfaidh sibh bhur Rí arís? Nó an dtuigeann sibh anois é?
Shilling. Béarla SAM. Ciallaíonn shill comhchoirí le caimiléir. An baile ar fad ina ghaimbín. Bhí ar na daoine a mhol Trump, the fawning hoard, íoc as iad féin a dhíol! Smaoinigh ar sin. Sin cleas! An tairbhe is mó do Trump agus an damáiste is mó do na daoine a thug cúnamh dó. Ní raibh ar Trump íoc as tada. Rinne na daoine i nDún Beag mar a dhéanann daoine go minic: chuir siad fáilte roimhe mar sin a dhéanann éinne daycent, nach ea? Rinne daoine iarracht. Chuir siad bratacha suas. Rinne siad rince. Bhí ceoltóirí ann. Le rá leis an domhan mór, Féach orainn. Is daoine maithe sinn. Cumhacht abú. Airgead abú. Páistí i SAM? Fake News, nach ea má chuireann sé isteach ar an gcraic. Thóg siad páistí óna scoil i nDún Beag le caint leis. Caithfidh gur thaitin sin go mór leis. Ní fhéadfadh sé íoc as bolscaireacht chomh láidir sin. Is bhí ‘fhios aige. Bhí an ceann is fearr aige orthu. Is ní bhfuair Dún Beag scilling. Filleann an feall ar an bhfeallaire. Deochanna do gach duine, arsa na Trump Boyos. Nós ar nós an nós ag na Boyos eile, na Healy-Raes. Daoine a cheannaíonn vótaí le deoch. Níor íoc na dearthaireacha Trump as na deochanna a ‘bhronn’ siad ar dhaoine sa phub. Ghoid siad a d’ól siad féin agus a d’ól gach duine. Sin an class daoine iad, na Trumps, bíodh ‘fhios agaibh. A leithéid. Sibh smitten leo fós?
Níor chuir éinne brú ar Dhún Beag sin a dhéanamh. Ní raibh siad press-ganged. Ach chonaic an press a rinne siad. An baile ar nós bheith ag casadh an tsúgáin le téad a dhéanamh lena gcrochfaidís iad féin. Ar mhaithe le deachtóir fealltach. Tá clú agus cáil agus meas a bhí ar an áit ina smidiríní agus níl all the king’s horses ná all the king’s men ag iarraidh é a chur le chéile arís. Is cuma leo. Bhain An Rí Trump taitneamh as an mbaile seo a bhriseadh. Roghnaigh sibh go dona, Dún beag-an-smaoineamh-a-rinne-sibh air.
Sheas Trump Town na hÉireann le deachtóir agus íocfaidh siad as sin go deo. Le nóiméad san limelight a bheith acu, le dul ag baint an fhéir is an ghrian ag taitneamh. Is a Dhia na glóire, nár mhór an feall! Beidh caint ar seo i mbéal an phobail le fada, in Éirinn, agus ar fud an domhain. Conas a míneoidh sibh do bhur páistí a rinne sibh? An cuimhin libh mar a thug an Choctaw cúnamh dúinn fadó? Níl sibh in aon chaoi cosúil leis sin, Dún Beag. A mhalairt ar fad an scéal, sibhse.
An bhfuil cúrsa sa tír chomh holc sin go dtabharfaidh daoine tacaíocht don diabhal? Nó an cuma leo? Ní raibh ann ach taitneamh a bhaint as an nóiméad. Ha Ha. Ara shur, what’s the harm agus araile. Abair é sin leis na daoine scriosta ag Trump.
Ní rachainn go dtí an sagart le maithiúnas a fháil, leads. Nach bhfuil sé fhéin le Rí an Dorchadais.
Bairbre Ní Chiardha
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