Writer's Notebook - James Rafferty Blog

Writer's Notebook: Songs about Ireland

As readers of this blog know, I love to write fiction.  One of my other huge interests is music and from time to time I write songs. The reason I bring it up is that I'll be playing this weekend at an open mic night in Medfield, Massachusetts at North Street Coffeehouse.  

For the occasion, I've decided to play the two songs I wrote about my travels in Ireland.  As you might expect for a writer, there's a story behind each song.  Twenty-two years ago, I took my first trip to the isle and loved the unique character of its towns and villages.  I also had heard about Irish music, but the scene at small clubs just amazed me.  In place after place, musicians would gather in a corner and play a wide variety of Celtic music.  This was my real introduction to the Celtic sound and I couldn't get enough of it.  I thought about my experiences for quite a while, then I sat down and started to write a song.  The result was Irish Man.  I recorded a version for a song contest last year and you can hear it here on Gather.com.  

Last summer, I went to Ireland again, this time on a business trip to an area southwest of Dublin.  On the first trip, I hadn't spent much time in Dublin, so I made a point of taking a bus into town and checking it out.  Ireland had changed a lot since my first visit and Dublin is at the epicenter of the economic changes going on.  In Europe, the phrase they use to describe Ireland is the Celtic Tiger.  By the time I arrived, Ireland was beginning to feel it's own downturn, but the economy was still much stronger than what I'd seen on the first visit.  Dublin is a great walking city and I wrote about my walk through parts of town in another post here.  The city is steeped in history and in strolling from place to place, I kept running into references to the many writers who had lived and gone to school in Dublin.  I wanted to capture a bit of that, and that became the nugget for another song.   About a month ago, I decided the time and had and started writing words.  Perhaps thirty minutes later, I had all of the music and my first pass at the lyrics.  The song is called Dublin Walk and builds on the impressions built up by several walks through the city that week. 

I've played Irish Man in public many times, including once earlier this summer for a church group.  But this will be the first time I've played Dublin Walk for anybody other than my family.   I'm looking forward to it.  If you're in the area, stop by.   As an added bonus, my son has a band and they also will be playing.  The last time I went to this coffeehouse, we had a great night listening to all of the local talent and the headlining act.   This should be fun.  

Writer's Notebook: On the Trail

Yesterday, I wrote about 1400 words on my latest novel. Today, I woke up and decided that it was time to explore a new -- to me -- bike path.  I'm on vacation, so these are the kinds of choices I've been facing each day.  As noted in my last post, I'm in New Hampshire, in the Lakes Region, and we've been fortunate enough to have good weather.  In fact, one-third of my words yesterday were written during a rainstorm in late afternoon and the progress I made inspired me to continue and eventually to finish the chapter that was in progress.   

I've been a bit sore lately, so I chose an easy way out:  I drove to my preferred starting point.   The Cotton Valley Trail was extended about three miles since I last rode it, so I wanted to see this new stretch.  About five minutes into the trip, the path looked like this:  

  

I continued on and was delighted to find I was the only one riding this portion of the trail.  Around me, there were woods of maple, silver and white birch and old growth pines.  As shown above, much of the trail followed the original rail bed, but from time to time, a wooden platform signaled a transition to a path that paralleled the tracks.  The last time scheduled trains ran on these tracks was over twenty years ago, but the tracks have been retained on most sections and converted into a multi-use trail.  Biking is the most common use, but there are also rail hobbyists who run very small train cars on these same tracks, especially on the weekends.  

Later, I encountered a stretch of overturned roots and broken trees -- perhaps a micro-cell had wreaked this havoc in some recent year.  Eventually, I hit an area where the path ran adjacent to a flooded area, which looked like this: 

 

From here, it was only a short ride to the trail's end, where I finally encountered other bicyclists.   Here is the shot from that point.  

As you can see, the weather was outstanding, a great day for biking.  I turned around and really let loose on the way back, riding at a much faster clip than I had on the way out.   The rest of the day?   Swimming, kayaking and helping my son try out water skiing.  Later on, a neighbor dropped by with a margarita by the beach.   Not a bad way to close out our vacation.  Goodbye, New Hampshire, until the next time. 

Writer's Notebook: Between Woods and Water

I'm in New Hampshire for a week and to paraphrase a well known song, the living is easy.   So far, we've mostly been lucky with the weather.  It's been a bit cooler than the normal July, but we've seen sunshine every day and had very little rain.  

We stay by a lake in the town of Wolfeboro on the east side of Lake Winnipesaukee.  Wolfeboro itself is a town of about 6,000 people, but it expands to a larger population during the summer tourist season.  Why Wolfeboro?  My family loves the outdoors and here we have easy access to lakes for swimming and kayaking and a path for walking and biking.  Plus, the town has lots of cultural assets. 

The Heifetz Institute convenes every summer here and puts on three performances a week.  We particularly like their "Stars of Tomorrow" series, which features young musicians -- teens to early twenties -- who are studying at the Institute, but are already virtuosos on a variety of stringed instruments.  Last night, the music had a Russian flavor.  The night began with violinist Ekaterina Tarsova from Moscow on violin, playing music from Porgy and Bess.  Ms. Tarsova had a flair for the dramatic, which began with her outfit, a dark dress which clung tight to her bosom and hips, and was slit on the side several inches above her knees.  She played the Gershwin music with passion and clarity, bringing out its emotional side, her bow arm extending out after completing tight musical phrases.  Later, the Russian theme continued, in the person of Dimitry Volkov, also from Moscow.  Dimitry announced this piece, Variations on a Theme of Rossini's "Moses" by Bohuslav Martinu, by comparing it to the Tom and Jerry cartoons, where the pianist played the mouse and he the cat.  We soon found out what he meant.  Dimitry attacked the piece with gusto on his cello and played intricate runs up and down his instrument, interspersed with quieter moments, like the catching of breath.  His dark brown hair and clever smile reminded me of the Russian masters of dance, Nureyev and Baryshnikov, in their younger days.  Like the best musicians, he showed mastery of the instrument, but also connected with the soul of the music.       

So, yes, Wolfeboro has its cultural side.  For those who like to tune into nature in this summer season, the area has much to offer.  During the day, I paddled with a kayak out onto one of the lakes.  On this day, the sun shown brightly and ample breezes rippled the waters, adding to the challenges of riding the kayak, as the water undulated due to the wind and wakes from various motorboats.  Still, I enjoyed my ride and paddled through a creek connecting two lakes before turning back.  Upon my return, I beheld a most unusual sight.  As I traversed from the creek into the broader lake, I noticed a covey of several birds, floating perhaps a hundred feet from the edge of the lake.  In my mind I thought flotilla, probably of ducks.  But I was wrong.  Paddling closer and coming within  ten feet of the nearly dozen birds who wove an uneven string to my right, I saw the distinctive black heads and extended necks of loons.  Loons are a special sight in New Hampshire and have been under threat from the increased human use of the lakes which serve as their habitats.  Usually I count myself lucky to see a single loon when the lakes are quiet.  But a flotilla of loons?   What a treat.   

So this place is special, a land of lake waters, tree-filled shorelines and many places to roam on foot or by boat.  Here are sights and sounds to store away to warm the mind and soul during those other cooler seasons which lay ahead of us. 

American Versailles: The Biltmore Estate

What if a gentlemen with unlimited resources joined forces with a world famous architect and the genius who designed Central Park and built an estate over hundreds of acres in the mountains.   George Vanderbilt did exactly that when he initiated The Biltmore over one hundred years ago in the hills of western North Carolina on the edges of the city Asheville.  

I've seen the Vanderbilt summer cottage in Newport, known as The Breakers, but the Biltmore estate was much more ambitious.  Like The Breakers, the huge mansion is heavily influenced by then current trends in Italian and French architecture, but the piece de resistance is the remarkable estate surrounding this home and the scale on which the estate was envisioned.  

I drove into the Biltmore and went at least 2 miles before we even got close to the main Biltmore House.  When designing the landscape, Frederick Olmstead deliberately built the long winding roads that pass by lush forests and local rivers, so that guests would realize they were passing into a different kind of experience.  Suffice to say, it works.  On this day, crews were out with chainsaws repairing the damages from a storm the prior evening, but the many trees and plants along the edges of the roads still enchanted, bringing a calming effect as the drive continued.    

Today, the estate has been preserved by the Vanderbilt family, so it is a hugely popular tourist spot that needs the satellite parking lots about a quarter of mile away from the main house.   I joined my fellow tourists on the shuttle bus and we were dropped off by the front door.  But on this way in, here is the view of the main Biltmore House:  

 

I took the walking tour on my visit. Inside, each of the major rooms is distinct.  Sitting rooms often have art from world renowned artists of the day including Whistler, John Stewart Sargent and Renoir.  

Looking out, you can see the views which Olmstead sought, where the house stands above the fields below, but also looks on to the Smoky mountains in the distance. 

 

This is the kind of place where even the nooks and crannies are special.  The exterior of the main house brought to mind another famous French building -- Notre Dame in Paris.  Like Notre Dame, the exterior of the house had a variety of carefully sculpted gargoyles who did double duty in serving as water spouts to drain water away from the house in the event of rain.  No sign of such rain this day; the temperatures pushed 90 degrees even in the morning.  

The interior rooms for the family members were huge.  Each room had a different style, though variations of double posted beds were common.  Here again, I saw the influence of Versailles in the attention to detail, be it in special wallpapers, imported furniture and, in one case, a fireplace taken from Europe and reconstructed here.  

Tying the house together is the Grand Staircase which winds upward in a style much like the one featured in Gone With the Wind.  Here is a glimpse of the staircase looking down from the top floor. 

 

As distinctive as the interior of the house is, the exterior grounds designed by Olmstead offer an even more colorful and varied set of views.  

On the left of the main house, the collection of carefully tended gardens begin.   Looking forward from the Libary Terrace is the Italian Garden.  Here, a combination of leafy green plants, ivory statues and stone bordered pools create an oasis of beauty which contrasts with the wilder appearance of the forests soaring skyward behind it.   

 

Next, I began the walk downhill toward the conservatory and was immediately distracted by magnificent hanging gardens.  On a cooler day, I can imagine sitting under the vineyard style trestles and reading for hours.  

On this day, the scorching heat made me think it was time to find water and lunch, not necessarily in that order.  But first, a quick walk down to the walled gardens seemed essential.  Which looked like this: 

 

And putting the garden against its backdrop, revealed this pastiche:  

 

The walk through these gardens provided a feast for my eyes, but the heat from the sun was unrelenting, so I bid adieu to the gardens and returned to the main house of the estate.   I circled back to the other side of the house and checked in at the front desk of the stable cafe.  The place was very busy, but I was able to get a seat almost immediately.   A waiter quickly came by and brought me a large lemonade and ice water, which I began to drink to get rehydrated.  Looking around, I noticed that the tables were set in the former horse stalls and built of polished hardwood and wrought iron.   Like everything else I experienced at the Biltmore, the drinks were excellent and gave me a chance to scope out the menu.  The variety of choices left me with a tough decision, but I opted for Lamb Sliders based on the description provided by my attentive waiter.  Shortly afer this, he came by with hot cornbread.  Perfect to whet my appetite. 

I wrote up a few postcards and then tended to the food when it arrived.  The sliders were excellent, silver dollar sized slices of lamb on a small toasted bun with a horseradish sauce.  I added a taste of catsup and the blended taste was outrageous.  

So ended my trip to the Biltmore.  I had an appointment after this, so with great reluctance, I returned to my car and followed the 4 mile loop through more forest and past the Biltmore winery, finally exiting the estate.  I got my money's worth on a discounted ticket and definitely want to go back again with my wife and family to share this amazing treasure built into the hills on the outskirts of Asheville.