Markovich/A.M.P.: Tunes
Tullacanna
Tullacanna is a defunct spelling of the name of the townland of Tullycanna, in county Wexford. I used the old name because it scans better and because the song isn't really about any one place, so Tullacanna can stand for all those villages left empty by the scourge of TB, famine, emigration and the call of the big cities.
Many times I've stopped by derelict houses in rural Ireland - roofs missing, briars growing in the rooms, rotting timbers, faded paintwork - and imagined the house in happier times, children playing and laughing, food cooking, neighbours chatting. Sometimes, after maybe even a hundred years, there is still some reminder of domesticity: a broken plate, a crucifix, a worn and favourite chair, a poignant reminder of the life that once went on in the house. Was the plate broken in the rush on that last day, getting a lift on a neighbour’s cart into New Ross to board the ship to America? The crucifix dropped after a prayer for the son bound for Liverpool? The broken chair discarded as the furniture was loaded onto the lorry for the move to Dublin and the job in the meat factory?
Although the song is inspired by scenes in rural Ireland, I have often had similar thoughts in cities, both in Ireland and abroad. During urban renewal, many houses are left derelict, shored-up by timbers, waiting for the land price to be right. These half-houses, bisected through internal walls, give a voyeuristic insight into the lives of those who lived there: the coloured wallpaper stripping off in the rain, the tiled bathroom, appliances hanging from the pipework or a stairway leading nowhere. These were the background to a life, daily constants to the events and dramas that occupied the inhabitants. I can’t walk past without wondering, without thinking that years from now, my life will also be so exposed. Will anyone stop then?
This song tries to convey some of these feelings. It comes across as a sad song, a dirge even, and there is an impotent anger in it, directed at fate, circumstance, greed, thoughtlessness and stupidity. It is impotent because this is the past, it cannot be changed, but it should help us not to allow the same to happen again. But it's also a song about remembering where we come from, and most of all, celebrating new growth, the new possibilities that open as the last chapter closes. As the man said, this is a song of hope.
Don't forget and spare a thought as you rush by, but most of all, live your life, savour it, we are the dreams of those who sat and watched the sun go down.
This subject is dealt with more poetically in "The Deserted Village" by Oliver Goldsmith
The illustration above is "Abandonded", by Kristian Rink which for me perfectly represents both the physical appearance and the emotions that this music attempts to convey. Take a look at Kris's other work - he has produced some very powerful images, worth a thousand songs, more of which will be featuerd by Markovich/A.M.P. in the future.
