A late fall day became a warm afternoon in Cabot Square. This time our group has grown and so have the different experiences and understandings of displacement. We discovered upon first meeting that we come from Mexico, Croatia, Iran, Acadia, Peru, rural Quebec, China, Winnipeg, Columbia, Montreal…
Marco asked if we would mind if he used his video camera to record today. An experienced film-maker, he had heard Devora speak about our project when she recently gave a lecture at Concordia. He has wanted to make a work about immigration and responses to displacement for some time and was excited by the synchronicity of events that was allowing him to begin.
Julia has now attended all of our lessons to date and honoured us by leading our warm up practice. With her dance training and love of song, she was able to take us in new directions, allowing us to make unfamiliar sounds stemming from our throats. We ended this first part of our lesson by lamenting together, each of us making vowel sounds, yet combining our voices as one.
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Our teacher, Lysette, had never sung on her own in public before, but came with two songs to share with us along with her two children. Their presence allowed for a welcomed playfulness and lightness to our group.
The songs are in Spanish but stem from much earlier times before it became the dominant language. The recordings Lysette brought with her gave us a sense of these other rhythms. Cancion Mixteca was rollicking whereas La Martiniana was slower in pace, drawn out in its balladic form and lyrics.
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Here are the lyrics to our first song:
Canción Mixteca
Autor: José López Alavés
¡Qué lejos estoy del suelo donde he nacido!
inmensa nostalgia invade mi pensamiento
y al verme tan solo y triste cual hoja al viento
quisiera llorar, quisiera morir
de sentimiento
¡Oh tierra del sol,
suspiro por verte!
ahora que lejos
yo vivo sin luz, sin amor
y al verme tan solo y triste cual hoja al viento
quisiera llorar, quisiera morir
de sentimiento
How far I am from the land where I was born
Immense sadness fills my thoughts
I see myself so alone and so sad
Like a leaf in the wind
I would like to cry I would like to die
From the feeling
Land of the sun
I long to see you
Now that I live so far from your light, without love
I see myself so alone and so sad
Like a leaf in the wind.
As has happened each time we gather, there comes a time when someone passing through the Square takes the opportunity to “complain”. What we have witnessed is the anger that laces these pronouncements. This has allowed us to talk about the difference between lamenting and complaining, how both can stem from the same sense of disquietude but their expression - both effectually and affectually - are different.
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The lyrics to Lysette’s second song:
La Martiniana
Autor: Andrés Henestrosa
Nina, cuando yo muera
no llores sobre mi tumba;
toca sones alegres, mi vida,
cantame La Sandunga.
Toca el Bejuco de Oro,
la flor de todos los sones;
canta La Martiniana, mi vida,
que alegra los corazones.
No me llores, no, no me llores no;
porque si lloras yo peno,
en cambio si tu me cantas, mi vida,
yo siempre vivo, yo nunca muero.
Si quieres que no te olvide,
si quieres que te recuerde,
toca sones alegres, mi vida,
musica que no muere.
No me llores, no, no me llores no;
porque si lloras yo peno,
en cambio si tu me cantas, mi vida,
yo siempre vivo, yo nunca muero.
English translation by Lila Downs
Little girl, when I die,
don’t cry over my grave
sing me beautiful songs, my life
sing me ‘the Sandunga’
Play the ‘Bejuco de Oro’
the flower of all songs,
sing the Martiniana, my life
that brings joy to all hearts.
Do not cry for me, no, do not cry for me
because if you cry I will haunt you,
but if you sing to me, my life,
I will always live, I never die.
If you want me to never forget you
if you want me to remember you,
play happy songs, my life
music that will never die
Do not cry for me, no, do not cry for me
because if you cry I will haunt you,
but if you sing to me, my life,
I will always live, I never die.
In the last half hour, one of our participants decided to tell us about himself. Pierrot is a “vagabond”: with no fixed address, he has left all of his worldly possessions behind other than his guitar and song book. Traveling all over, he often exchanges a song for a meal or a place to stay the night. His voice is rich and strong and so having spent the afternoon with us, he offered to play three of his many songs.
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