Catrin Finch and Cimarrón
Our family is a rich blend of Celtic/Cajun/Euro/American cultures. We are open to new experiences, understanding of the differences that make us all the same. It was a joy then to spend time at the Apex last Friday, where the harp took centre stage blending the cultures of two regions 8,000 kilometres apart.
The harp, to us Celts, has long held a subliminal presence in our lives. Its use as the logo of a well-known brand of Irish stout has doubtless got something to do with this. Moreover, harpists in Celtic culture were revered musicians, so much so that their nails were protected under Brehon law.
In Columbia the Ilanos’ harp, brough there by the Spanish, is at the heart of music from the cowboy plains of eastern part of the country. An area best known for Jorobo dance music. Joropo, in case you did not know, is a musical style akin to Fandango, usually accompanied by dance.
The music of these Celtic and Columbian harps blended seamlessly together at The Apex when Catrin Finch and Cimmarón came together to entertain us. In doing so, proving that the universal language of music is what unites us – at least for those with ears to listen.
Shortly after the division bell sounded in the bars and lobby of the venue, and without introduction, Catrin and five, cowboy hat clad Chicos arrived on stage. After a brief pause to check tuning, with a quick “uno, dos, tres” they were off in a cacophony of strings and percussion.
Each of the six musicians on stage were experts with their chosen instruments but none-the-less each was watching the other, ensuring they followed the nuances and subtleties of these fast-paced tunes. None more so that Catrin who coyly glanced below the shoulder of her harp watching her Colombian counterpart.
Soon we were joined on stage by Cimmaron’s co-founder Ana Veydó and I instantly regretted not paying more attention to my Spanish teacher’s efforts to make be bilingual. Some phrases filtered through, but I found that by looking at Catrin’s face I could get the gist of the songs – I so hope Ms Finch doesn’t play poker.
Traditional Welsh songs, we were told, fall into three categories: sad, very sad and very, very sad. For her only solo Catrin played Lisa Lán which fell into the latter category. A hauntingly beautiful melody using almost the full range of her instrument.
Alas I did not catch the names of all the Chicos but the night was not about individuals but of the synergy of sound that together talented human beings can create. The player with the five stringed bass was physically restraining himself for full blown head banging, or perhaps it was fear of losing his cowboy hat. He may well play in a south American heavy metal band on his weekends off.
The Ilanos harp sounded so distinctly different from Catrin’s instrument, fewer strings, and a higher tone, plucked at times like a mandolin at others strummed like a classical guitar.
Percussion was minimalist, a Cajon, some cymbals and a floor tom. For the most part it was the Cajon leading the rhythm section.
The remaining two musicians were playing variations on the Cuatro, an instrument derived from the Spanish guitar. What I found fascinating was the variety of notes being produced from these four stringed instruments, the speed of the hands working the neck of the instruments was mesmerising.
Following the intermission there were theatrics – a white wedding dress, red veils and tunes played on animal skulls. Again, my failure to pay attention in Spanish class irked me. The film Deliverance’ sprang to mind as Colombian and Welsh harps indulged in a delivery of duelling harps. Not to be left out we also had duelling Cajons accompanied by some athletic footwork and agile gymnastic moves – ‘Strictly’, eat your heart out!
Then suddenly it was all over, this is our last number announced Catrin. But the glint in her eye belied the tease. Not a mere final number, but a suite – The Orinoco Suite, allowing each musician to showcase their individual skills once more.
There was a well-deserved standing ovation and a good old fashioned encore before the audience left the theatre to wend their way home on a warm, muggy Suffolk night.
Roots’ magazine’s description of “World Music” as “local music from out there” is a totally appropriate description of what we were experiencing. I was also reminded of a line from a song by The Saw Doctors – “No matter where you are from, everyone’s local”.
