Caillagh Blog

Myth, Cultural Milestones and New Avenues for Cultural Expression

Caillagh will be the first opera in the Manx language. Culture Vannin have called this "a significant milestone in the development of Manx language arts." But, whilst it's a significant step for Manx culture, it follows in the footsteps of other Celtic nations of these isles.

In 1909, Robert O’Dwyer’s Eithne, the first opera in Gaeilge (Irish Gaelic), premiered with great media interest. The mythological setting and divine events deeply entwined the plot with Irish folklore and so in the ongoing struggle against anglo cultural hegemony and for an Irish identity and secured a subsequent fully staged run. In 2017, the work was revived and has since been recorded and released by the Irish National Opera, demonstrating the enduring cultural legacy that opera can have and the zeitgeist for Celtic languages to find expression in less conventional media.

In Scotland, An Turus, the first opera in Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic), premiered in 1997, selling out with a great many people being turned away after queueing down the street. The plot was heavily inspired by the Celtic legend of Diarmuid and Gráinne.

To the south, this goes back even further, with the first Cymraeg (Welsh) opera, Blodwen, composed by Joseph Parry in 1878. The medieval tale of Welsh knightly valour was reportedly performed an astonishing 500 times before 1900.

The first Kernewek (Cornish) opera is  yet to come. However, very excitingly, last year a brand new song-cycle, Arlodhes a Shalott premiered. In this piece, composer Matthew Thomason set a translation of Tennyson's Lady of Shalott, linking the poem to the almost 1000 year old association between King Arthur and Cornwall.

In each of these examples, spanning almost 150 years, librettists and composers have all reached for the same thing: legend. And the same is true of Caillagh. Although I set out explicitly giving myself licence to write any kind of story, I ended up inexorably drawn to (and drawing on) the wonderful world of Manx folklore.

Why is it that all of these operatic firsts are set in some kind of local legendary frame?

My first answer to this question is that perhaps there is simply an association going on here: a feeling of a link between language and legend that their shared roots reach back to times before anglicisation and Christianisation.

On the other hand, perhaps, it's the expectations held of opera. From Dido and Aeneas to The Ring Cycle, myth has been a staple of operatic writing. So, do we simply expect this kind of plot?

Both of these are doubtless part of the cause. But they also seems a little insufficient to explain the consistency of mythological material in Celtic opera given that opera also has a strong tradition of grit and realism (one of the most influential of this ilk for me is Jake Heggie's Dead Man Walking).

​I think that there is actually a deeper sympathy going on here that has to do with a feeling of what these pieces are perhaps trying to achieve. No milestone, cultural or otherwise, is the final destination; writing opera in a minority language is just part of a journey, the success of which can only be judged by whether or not you get to the next milestone. And that journey is powered by the stories that people living in a culture tell about themselves. Myth and folklore have a powerful ability to enchant our stories about ourselves, our communities, and the land we inhabit and that is something that cultural revival might need too. The more we can fill ourselves with wonder about the land just outside our door, the more in love with place, people and culture we might become. And a vast and fantastical tradition of story-telling is one of the absolutely key things that opera can contribute to these journeys.