The End of Dreams
I was invited by Peter James to contribute to an inter-disciplinary project he was considering; a curated musical work comprising diverse contributions from long-standing collborators who had become a close circle of friends. I said yes before even knowing what would be asked of me. This has been a deeply humbling and moving experience, not only because of being offered Peter's trust to deliver a text that met his vision for this album, and not only because he accepted my crazy idea of asking my insanely gifted friend, opera singer Sinéad to try improvisation - something she's never done before, but because this collaboration also brought me in intimate contact with the reality of how fragile our connection to life truly is. Peter's tenacious, brave and his daily heroic efforts, in the face of all his dire daily medical challenges, along with his commitment and dedication leaves me in awe. I have learned to re-appreciate my own connection to life and the gift that is reasonably decent health. Having made a new friend in such vulnerable and yet, resilient circumstances, gives me a deep appreciation of what it means be connected, to be seen and for our artistry, whatever that my be, to be seen, heard, read and appreciated. The End of Dreams holds particular, personal significance for Peter, for me, it is a renewal of my deidcation to craft and to collaborative spirit by which we share our gift of humanity. I also would be remiss not to mention the generosity of Jimi Dawn, for allowing me to borrow a line or few.
Please take a moment to support this fascinating project. Buy the album and take the time to treat yourself to a coming together of a group of gifted musicians and vocalists.
Thank you Amantine. x
The End of Dreams
BALLED FOR SOPRANO AND SPOKEN WORD
MUSIC Peter James
TEXT Amantine Brodeur
With thanks to Jimy Dawn for the abduction of a few lyrical lines
IRISH TRANSLATION Sinéad Ní Mhurchú
(Spoken)
At the end of dreams, in the stillness of Nowhere,
on a love-torn hill, the soft escape of Swallows’ wings
into un-awakened song, held heart-wise to the wind
in the ‘othering of self’.
Knowing, in its remembering of giddy knots and restless webs,
whispers love’s incandescence in Bach, A-minor. And along
this wrist of shadows older stories of innocence fade, line by line
in darker dreams to our light, in-between:
At the end of dreams, I’ll shed my wings
for the deeper sea
Of coral songs and love gone blind.
Weep me still into sweeps of willow, into
the unkempt seasons of the soul.
I’ll sing songs of her vagrant summer, collecting
shells across the void, as a guide along
your shoreline, home.
I ndeireadh na mbrionglóidi
Scoithfidh mé mo sciatháin
Cuir ag gol mé, go maolofar i
Scríoba saileoga mo chaoin,
chuigSéasúir míshlachtmhar m’anam.
Casfaidh mé amhráin dá samhradh
Fánach ag bailiú sliogáin feadh an
Chladaigh, mar threoraí trasna an Bhfolús.
Take a listen to a sample from title track . . .
