CANA
CLUDHMOR
Cana Cludhmor is a 15 minute mini-opera for soprano and piano. The story of Cana Cludhmor, a fictional Irish poet and bard, and her husband Macuel appears in a single paragraph in Leabhar Mhic Cárthaigh Riabhaigh or The Book Of Lismore, a fifteenth century Irish manuscript, now held in the University College, Cork County.
It is the most wonderful love story.
Having had enough of her annoying husband, Cana leaves him and runs to the sea. Here she is soothed to sleep by the extraordinary sound of wind blowing through whale bones. To win her back, her husband creates a harp for her, inspired by the sound and structure of the whale skeleton. This becomes Ireland’s first harp. The original story doesn’t say what Cana thinks of this gift, but how could she be anything but swept off her feet!
In my piece, we meet Cana many years after the events of the original story, where she is now performing as a poetess and singer of renown. At a concert, she tells the story in her own words, addressing her audience as A stór (my treasure). Through the work the piano plays the roles of musical narrator, harp, loom, ocean and whale, incorporating several piano techniques to create the sounds.
This is a wonderful story of love, music, invention, new beginnings and a whale skeleton and I’ve written it as an extended song or mini-opera, of around 15 minutes.
Cana Cludhmor was commissioned by Chamber Music Adelaide and composed for two stunning South Australian musicians soprano Desiree Frahn and pianist Penny Cashman. The work was premiered in the Adelaide Town Hall May 11 2024.
This piece will become the third movement of my work Night Whales inspired by whaling in Encounter Bay. It will sit as a moment out of the time line and events at Encounter Bay, moving to the wild shores of ancient Ireland, the land of my heritage. More about Night Whales…
The Libretto
Irish Words
Macuel - Mah-COOL
A stór - Uh-STORE - my treasure
Miol Mór - MEE-ohl MORE - whale
My libretto draws on the original text of Cana. Here’s a 19th century translation of the original manuscript. I have incorporated some of the words, phrases and feeling of this text in creating Cana’s retelling of her own story. The only detail I have created myself is the idea that Macuel is a weaver. It felt like a good fit for a harp creator.
" I will perform," said a man in the house, " an art for thee." " What is the art?" says Marvan, " and who art thou ?" "I am a good professor in my art to Seanchan, and Casmael the harper is my name." " I question thee, Casmael," said Marvan, "whence originated the science of playing the harp ; who was the first that composed poetry, or whether the harp or the timpan was the first made?" " I don't know that, prime prophet," said Casmael. " I know it," says Marvan, and I will tell it thee.
In former times there lived a married couple whose names were Macuel, son of Miduel, and Cana Cludhmor (or of great fame) his wife. His wife, having entertained a hatred for him, fled before him through woods and wildernesses, and he was in pursuit of her. One day that the wife had gone to the strand of the sea of Camas, and while walking along the strand she discovered the skeleton of a whale on the strand, and having heard the sound of the wind acting- on the sinews of the whale, she fell asleep by that sound. Her husband came up to her, and having understood that it was by the sound she had fallen asleep, he proceeded into an adjacent forest, where he made the frame of a harp, and he put chords in it of the tendons of the whale, and that is the first harp that ever was made.
Cana Cludhmor - Jodie O’Regan
And so it is - you question me, “whence came I to play the harp. How came I to learn poetry?”
A stór I know it, I will tell it thee.
This hall it is where you hear my fine harp, ringing like moonlight on a far mountain stream
But my first song was bones by the sea
A stór I know it, I will tell it thee.
Now see me young, As wild as a salmon
And now a young bride, To Macuel the weaver,
Hush now my treasure, Hush now A stór. I will tell it thee.
From morning to night, He at his loom, And have me spin thread
And sit at his side, And speak not a word, And not have me sing.
Not even one note. No flue in his fire and how my eyes sting.
Then me wild as a salmon, now come away in the night
through woods and dark wilds away and away all the way to the strand of the sea
I will tell it thee - to the strand of the sea!
And then the wind up. What music is this? What can this be?
Míol Mór - whale bones singing on the shore
Singing from the wind blowing through the sinews on the bones
Singing of all we once lost now come home.
I crawl under the better to listen.
Perhaps my eyes weep. Perhaps my eyes close.
Then the wind dies, the music grows silent. I awake.
What What What can this be?
Macuel the weaver has followed me down to the sea. All the way down to the sea.
watching me sleep beneath the whale bones
Husband, what’s that you’ve got?
What’s that in your hands? Why have you come?
While I was sleeping, Macuel the weaver, who would not have me sing, not even one note,
Had gone to the forest and found a tree bough, curved like a whale bone
He threaded the sinews, like warps on his loom to make a harp.
So I could carry the whale song with me.
What then my A stór? What then? By the sea
Macuel and me under the whale bones.
I know it, A stór, I know it. But I will not tell it thee.
And now it is I play my harp
For warriors and mighty kings.
But in my dreams I still hear the whale bones singing
A stór I know it, And now I’ve told it thee.
The Music
Years ago, I saw the most amazing Irish story teller, an old man with a harp. He wove spoken narration, harp underscoring, harp sound effects and singing to bring his characters and scenes together. His story was about an hour long and absolutely compelling. It's been on my mind that this is a way a soloist can take us on a single journey for an extended work.
The music is tonal, with some modal/whole toney flavour to evoke magic and Celtic feel, and completely driven by the words and story.
Performance wise, this work is story telling, the character of Cana is a professional storyteller and is in her element. For both singer and pianist, please feel welcome to approach the ‘dots’ with a sense of playful adventure: expressive rubato throughout, to most enjoy telling the story together. I would also invite the singer to interact with the piano during its various roles and engage with the audience, inviting them into the role of Cana’s audience, so the fourth wall moves from the stage to the back of the auditorium.
Cana Cludhmor will become the third movement in a larger work Night Whales, inspired by the history of whaling in South Australia’s Encounter Bay, which will be premiered in South Australia in 2026.