La Grischa - Museum Regiunal Surselva

Corin Curschellas
Patricia Draeger
Albin Brun
Claudio Strebel
La Grischa
Per Corin
Und das ist das schönste Lied. Wenn der
Himmel am Abend klar ist. Dann legt sich
auch die Kälte über die Täler, und mit
der Kälte nimmt die Klarheit zu. Und die
Kunst wird zum notwendigen Mittel, um
sich klar zu werden, was man sieht.
Die Zeit ist eine andere in der Abgeschiedenheit, aus der die Lieder stammen, und
in der Sprache, in der sie erzählt werden,
ist auch das Erleben ein anderes. Und
wenn man Corin diese Lieder singen hört,
mit ihrer Stimme, die überwältigt, ist es,
so eng und begrenzt die Welt einem auch
erscheinen mag, als erhebe man sich
über die Niedrigkeiten des Alltags, und
Gewöhnliches werde in Schönheit verwandelt. In ihren Liedern, in der Sprache
ihrer Musik und in der Poesie ihrer
Sprache ist die Sinnlichkeit einer gross
gewordenen kleinen Welt.
La Grischa erzählt aus den Tälern, in
denen ich aufgewachsen bin, von der mal
kargen, mal rauen Landschaft mit ihren
Kanten und Felsen und Senken und
Ebenen, vom Wetter und von der Natur
erzählen diese Lieder, von den Menschen
und vom Sterben, vom Lieben, vom
Leben, unberechenbar, wie es ist. Es ist
das Leben in dieser Landschaft, das die
Menschen geprägt hat. Sie fanden Trost
im Lied. Das Leid ist dem Lied nicht fern.
Mit der Landschaft und den Menschen
in ihrer Leidenschaft sind auch die Lieder
begeistert, rau und zärtlich, sinnlich
und überraschend, mal forsch, mal verträumt. Und dann ist da dieser Hauch
an Traurigkeit, der den Liedern innewohnt,
eine Wehmut, eine leichte Schwermut
vielleicht, dieses den romanischen Tälern
eigene Gefühl, diese romanische
Saudade.
Und dann sind es diese Lieder, die bleibende und berührende Bilder schaffen,
die noch lange nachklingen. Und wenn
Corin aus meinen Tälern singt, dann
singt sie mir aus dem Herzen. Und das
ist das schönste Lied.
Arno Camenisch
1
2
randulin
Jau mava da stgir a da notg
Che fast qua tü randulin
ourasom sün quel manzin
Eu sun qua per t’avisar
tü nu’t dessast maridar
Swallow
What are you doing here, swallow,
perched on the end of yonder branch?
I’m here to warn you
against marrying.
Jau mava da stgir a da notg
la notg quell’era tont stgira
schneladibeladihopsasa
ch’ins veseva buc in crap
Jau mava‚ von gl’esch la mia cara
igl esch quel era serause
a cau stuev jau spluntar
Ellas vegnivan giù tuttas treis soras
la giuvna quell’era la beala
quei era mia marusa cara
Ellas manavan mei si davos meisa
a devan da mangiare
ad er in cruag cun vin
Ellas manavan mei sinsum la casa
tertgavel jau d’ir a durmire
spurnavan mei orda barcun
Jau vegniva giù sin in crap
rumpeva la comba dretga
a quei enten duas parts
Jau stevel aunc si a mava
entupav’ina dunna viglia
spurnava mei in toc sut via
O Deus, sch’igl va schia cun mei
a termagl vi jau ir pli
a termagl vi jau buc ir pli
vallader
chanz. pop. rum.
arr: Albin Brun
sursilvan
canz. pop. rom.
arr: Patricia Draeger
3
Mintga sera cu jeu varghel
I was wending my way
through the darkness of night
I was wending my way
through the darkness of night.
It was so dark that night
schneladibeladihopsasa
that not a stone was to be seen.
I went right to my true love’s door,
but locked is how I found it
and so I had to knock.
Down they came, all three sisters.
The young one, the pretty one,
that one was my true love.
They took me upstairs to a table,
where food they gave me
and a tankard of wine.
They took me to the top of the house,
where I was to sleep, methinks,
but they hurled me through the shutters.
I landed on a stone,
breaking my right leg,
breaking it in twain.
Mintga sera cu jeu varghel
has ti aunc cazzola
tia guila cus’e cusa
launa e mangola
Forsa cusa ella era
siemis en las teilas
siemis giuvens che splenduran
sco vid tschiel las steilas
Forsa spetgas che jeu splunti
ina buna sera
fors’glischass lu ti’egliada
matg e primavera
Every evening when I pass by
Every evening when I pass by,
your light’s still burning.
Your needle is a-sewing
wool and cotton.
Perhaps it stitches
dreams into the cloth as well,
glistening young dreams
like stars in the heavens.
When I rose to go again,
an old woman did I meet,
who pushed me out of the way.
Oh God, if that’s what’s to befall me,
I’ll go off courting again,
definitely go off courting.
sursilvan
m: Tumasch Dolf
t: Gian Fontana
arr: Albin Brun
Perhaps you’re waiting for me to knock
one fine eve.
Perhaps May and spring might then light up
when you behold them.
4
5
Star se legher
Giu enten quella val
Star se legher ed eir a plaz
chegl è la lavour digls mats
e deir urden da las mattangs
chegl è chegl tgi fon
Giu enten quella val
ei era in mulin
che mola spir amur
e maina peglia fin
Tot igls mats òn la bucca fegna
ma digls creir na n’egl betg egna
ainten bucc’ònigl aint spir mêl
aint il cor spir fel
Matta, matta ta pertgeira
da lioms e da rantadeiras
da rognucs e da barletgungs
e da mutschignucs
Matta matta betg ta feida
franc vingst te ad esser leda
fegn e bel è igl sies affar
ma betg sa fidar
Leu ei er in curtgin
cun enten dus pumers
in porta nuschnuschcate
e l’auter neghels er
Arising cheerily
Arising cheerily and meeting
on the village square –
that’s the job of the lads.
And keeping the lasses in their place –
that is what they do.
La nuschnuschcat ei petra
ils neghels quels ein forts
quei dun jeu a mia cara
agli per in cunfort
They all know how to talk nice,
do the lads,
but not one word will a lass believe.
They’ve purest honey in their mouths
and purest gall in their hearts.
Jeu stoi naven tilar
o vé tgei tresta sort
mia cara bandunare
quei ei sco petra mort
Young lass, be on your guard
against bonds and fetters,
against rascals and rogues
and against grotty upstarts.
surmiran
canz. pop. rom.
arr: Albin Brun
Young lass, don’t trust a word of it.
You’ll be glad you didn’t.
He has nice, fine manners,
but is not worth an ounce of trust.
sursilvan
canz. pop. rom.
arr: Albin Brun
Down in yonder vale
There was a mill
down in yonder vale,
grinding out pure love
and never coming
to an end.
There’s a garden too
over there,
with two fruit trees in it,
one bearing nutmeg,
and the other cloves.
The nutmeg is bitter.
The cloves are strong.
I give them all
to my true love
as a consolation.
I must be moving on
Oh what a sad, sad fate.
Leaving behind
my true love
is like a bitter death.
6
7
Locust and Ant
Canzun Veglia Da Ziteil
Salep e la furmicla
Sin liung stentus viadi
nus mein oz a perdun
en sogn pelegrinadi
cun tutta devoziun
Salep e la furmicla
che levan maridar
hoissa hoissum
hoitirralla rideridum
Sil cuolm eis cumparida
al pietus pastur
cheu vegns ti reverida
dal pievel cun fervur
O volva cun carezia
tier nus pucconts tiu egl
nus meina cun dultschezia
la via dil sulegl
Old Song From Ziteil
On a journey long
and gruelling
to confession we go today,
on a holy pilgrimage
full of devotion.
To the pious shepherd
Thou appeared
on the mountain top.
Here Thou art fervently
revered
by the people.
Oh, cast Thy loving eye
on us sinners.
Guide us gently
by the path to the sun.
Locust and Ant
who wanted to marry
hoissa hoissum
hoitirralla rideridum
Il bi salep quel scheva:
jeu lessel maridar
The handsome Locust
would say:
I want to marry
Lu la furmicla scheva:
ti lesses forsa mei?
Then Ant would say:
is it perhaps me you want?
Ei mavan sigl altar
per metter en gl’ani
They hopped on the altar
to put on the ring.
Salep fa in tgaubriechel
ch’ei segli’or il tschurvi
Locust does a somersault,
hurling out his brain.
Sur mar va la furmicla
per etg da medegar
Off to sea goes Ant,
to find an ointment for
his wounds.
L’ei ida suenter Pastgas,
turnada da Nadal
Cur ch’ella ei turnada
sch’er il salep satraus
sursilvan
canz. pop. rom.
arr: ensemble
L’ei ida vi sur fossa
bargend ch’ell’ha rut l’ossa
sursilvan
canz. pop. rom.
arr: Patricia Draeger
She went after Easter,
came back at Christmas
When she came back,
Locust had been buried.
She went to the grave,
crying so much
that her bones did break.
8
9
Spel lag
Saira per saira
La sera ch’il tschiel ei sereins
e l’aria respira entscheins
lu carg’ina forza miu cor e trai mei
egl uaul giuador
Saira per saira fila la figlia
tant cha seis bap da quai s’inapiglia
figlia nu voust ir at recrear?
na char bap perche ch’eu sto filar
Leu dorm’in laghet enamiez
la guardia da tieua e viez
naven tegn disturbi mundan
tegn tutta rueida lontan
Pür sia mamma s’dà sten fadia
da la trametter in cumpagnia
tas cumpognas vegnan at clomar
eu nu vegn perche ch’eu sto filar
Il mescal ei cozza per mei
e l’unda che betscha miu pei
scutina a mi ell’uregl’in cant
giavinont da smarvegl
Ed ella fila fin cha’ls ögls larman
sch’eir bap e mamma ferm as alarman
figlia, di’ns nu’t voul el plü amar?
ah laschà’m in pos, ch’eu sto filar
Evening for Evening
By the lake
Under the clear evening sky
with incense in the air,
that’s when a force takes hold of my heart
and drags me down through the wood.
A small lake lies asleep in there.
The watching pine and fir
keep this world’s disruptions out,
stop any noise from getting near.
sursilvan
m: Gion Antoni Derungs
t: Gion Cadieli
arr: Patricia Draeger
The moss is my blanket,
and the wave kissing my foot
whispers a song
of wondrous enchantment in my ear.
vallader
chanz. pop. rum.
arr: Claudio Strebel
Evening for evening,
daughter does her spinning,
so much that it worries father:
Daughter, don’t you want to take a break.
No, father dear,
because my spinning must be done.
Mother tries hard next
to send her to join the others:
Your friends are calling for you.
I’m not coming,
because my spinning must be done.
And she spins until the tears fill her eyes.
Father and mother both are fretting now:
Daughter, tell us,
doesn’t he love you any more?
Just leave me in peace,
because my spinning must be done.
10
Donna Donna ve a chà
Donna donna ve a chà
cha teis hom at cloma
Sch’el am cloma, schi lascha’l clomar
eu stun qua, e vögl ballar
illura vegn a chasa
Donna donna ve a chà
cha tes hom ha mal
Scha’l ha mal schi lascha’l crappar
eu stun qua e vögl ballar
illura vegn a chasa
Donna donna ve a chà
cha tes hom es mort
Scha’l es mort, schi’l sepuli
eu stun qua e vögl siglir
illura vegn a chasa
Donna donna ve a chà
chi’d es da partir la roba
Chi’d es da partir
stögl finir da ballar
o deis meis linzöls, o Segner char
eu cuor be spüfs a chasa
Wife, wife, come home
Wife, wife, come home
’cos your husband’s calling you.
If he’s calling, let him call.
I’m staying here and want to dance.
Then I’ll come home.
Wife, wife, come home
’cos your husband’s feeling ill.
If he’s feeling ill, let him perish.
I’m staying here and want to dance.
Then I’ll come home.
Wife, wife, come home
’cos your husband’s dead.
If he’s dead, you bury him.
I’m staying here and want to jump.
Then I’ll come home.
Wife, wife, come home
’cos it’s time to share the chattels.
If it’s time to share the chattels,
I’ll have to stop dancing.
O God, my sheets, dear Lord,
I’m rushing home, fast as I can.
vallader
chanz. pop. rum.
arr: ensemble
11
Oh stars
Allas steilas
O schei vus caras steilas
el firmament
pertgei viv’ins sin tiara
mo in mo in mument
Pertgei ston ins sin tiara
pitir, pitir
quei cuort mument ch’ins viva
epi epi murir
quei cuort mument ch’ins viva
epi epi smarschir
O quel ch’ei vies scaffider
ha mei scaffiu
quel che vies cuors diregia
ei er ei er miu Diu
Perquei siu mal emblida
miu cor suffront
cu’l ellas sferas vesa
vus steilas tarlischont
Oh tell us, ye bright stars
in the firmament,
why do we live on Earth
only for, only for a moment?
Why do we on Earth
have to suffer, suffer
for that brief moment that we live
and then, and then die,
for that brief moment that we live
and then, and then perish?
Oh, he who is your creator
created me.
He who determines your course
is my, is my God too.
So his suffering
forgets my suffering heart,
when in the heavens
he sees you stars shining.
sursilvan
m: Tumasch Dolf
t: Alfons Tuor
arr: Albin Brun
12
13
La canzun Dil Bau
Il cumün in silenzi
A mi ha ina praula il vent oz raquintau
ei mava inagada pil mund entuorn in bau
Il cumün in silenzi
uossa taidla sömgiand
las anticas tarablas
cha l’aual va quintand
Purtava loschs la corna: jeu sun in grond signur
e miu manti tarlischa, con paupers ei il pur
Ed el sestend’e mira co’l bov sto trer il criec:
co sun jeu libers, libers, mo trai ti pauper tschiec
El stat sin ina comba e saulta spert sul prau
cheu vegn ruclond la roda e smacc’il pauper bau
Mintgatant il guitader
sa chanzun fa dudir
e’l passà in silenzi
darcho tuot tuorn’a gnir
Eir las uras chi battan
sül clucher pac davent
ün pa tremblan in l’ajer
e svaneschan cul vent
Be eternas splenduran
sü casü stailas d’or
che ma hast tü da batter
uschè ferm o meis cour
The beetle song
Today, the wind told me a story:
Once upon a time, a beetle was going round the world.
Silence in the village.
Now listen dreamily
to the tales of yore
as told by the stream.
Now and then
the night watchman
can be heard singing,
and all the bygones silently
come back again.
And the bells striking
on the nearby tower
tremble a bit in the air
and vanish with the wind.
Only golden stars eternal
shine up over there.
What is it
that has you beating
so strongly, my heart?
It held its feelers up with pride: I’m a real gentleman.
How my coat shines. What a poor devil the farmer is.
He stretches and spies the ox forced to pull the plough:
I’m oh so free. You keep on pulling, poor, blind thing.
He stands on one leg, dancing quickly on the meadow.
That’s when the wheel rolls along, and poor beetle
is no more.
Silence in the village
sursilvan
m: Tumasch Dolf
arr: Albin Brun
vallader
m: Tumasch Dolf
t: Peider Lansel
arr: Albin Brun
14
15
Turn, wheel, turn
Zuola roda Zuola
Zuola roda zuola
zuglia incuntin
pleiga roda pleiga
tgiembla laun’e glin
ti raschunas da letezia
mo en mei ei mo tristezia
zuola roda zuola
zuglia incuntin
Mia mumm’ha era
prus tei fatg isar
ussa l’ei en fossa
ed jeu stoi plirar
ti raschunas da letezia
mo jeu tscherchel la carezia
mia mumm’ha era
prus tei fatg isar
sursilvan
m: Carli Scherrer
t: Alfons Vinzens
arr: Patricia Draeger
Suna roda sun’a
fin uss la canzun
tias melodias lain
mei abandun
ti raschunas da letezia
mo en mei ei mo tristezia
suna roda sun’a
fin uss la canzun
Turn, wheel, turn,
Keep on turning.
Fold, wheel, fold.
Pile up wool and linen.
Your talk is of happiness,
but in me there’s nought
but sadness.
Turn, wheel, turn,
Keep on turning.
Agl iester
Tgeara irundeala turnas tei digl sid
vas an patria beala porta egn salid
igl mieus cor andira mal da tgea jou ve
o quegl fuss vantira da turnar cun te
Igl duer mi leia da star lientsch davent
legra vas tia veia nass cun te bugent
mia olma crida bregia plagn dalur
spert es tei svanida aint agl cler azur
My mother worked
diligently with you too,
until worn out.
Now she’s in her grave,
and I’m left lamenting.
Your talk is of happiness,
but I’m in search of love.
My mother worked
diligently with you too,
until worn out.
Sing, wheel, sing
the song until it’s over now.
Your tunes leave
me feeling distraught.
Your talk is of happiness,
but in me there’s nought
but sadness.
Sing, wheel, sing
the song until it’s over now.
Going abroad
Beloved swallow, leaving the south,
flying back to the lovely land of home,
convey a greeting, please.
How my heart aches
with the homesickness I feel.
What a joy it would be to return with thee.
Duty makes me stay in distant parts
Happy art thou to depart.
Fain would I come with thee.
My soul is crying out in pain.
Thou art quickly out of sight
in the clear blue sky.
sutsilvan
m: Curò Mani jun.
t: Jon Guidon
vers. sutsilvana: Curo Mani sen.
arr: Patricia Draeger
16
17
Ninna nanna
Sul sulet
Ninna nanna buna notg
ninna nanna dorma bagn
steilas glischan giu digl ot
gio sa perd’igl cling digls sains
Tschantà davant meis prümaran
in s-chüra not sulet
sur mai las cleras stailas fan
lur cuorsa plan planet
nu saint inguotta a flippir
co l’En giò’l fuond d’la val
nu vez intuorn co a glüschir
la pizza da cristal
Ninna nanna t’vi ninnar
cun canzungs durmantar
o tge plascheir celest divin
da ninnar sies unfantign
Ninna nanna buna notg
ninna nanna dorma bagn
dorma dorma tger unfant
sera ossa ties igligns
Ossa cloma cun mies cant
giu da tschiel igls angheligns
fign tgi te ist durmanto
spetgan els davant la tga
Cur tg’er i’vign a pussar
vignan aint els a ninnar
ninna nanna buna notg
ninna nanna dorma bagn
surmiran
m: Tumasch Dolf
t: Jon Guidon
vers. surmeirana?
Lullaby
Lullaby, good night.
Lullaby, sleep well.
Stars shine down from on high,
and the ringing bells fade down here.
Lullaby, I want to sing you
to sleep with lullabies.
Oh, what a divine, celestial pleasure it is
to sing lullabies to your own tiny child.
Lullaby, good night
Lullaby, sleep well
Sleep, sleep, beloved child,
Now shut your tiny eyes.
Now, sing along and call
the tiny angels down from heaven.
Until you’re fast asleep
they’ll wait before the house.
When it’s time for me to rest as well,
they’ll come in for a lullaby.
Lullaby, good night
Lullaby, sleep well
La glüna uoss’vain sü cul cheu
davo il grond vadret
am guarda tais: o di’m ün pa
est tü be sul sulet?
qua brilla sü da meis löet
ün cler chi’m fa güvlar
na glüm chi arda suot il tet
ün tet chi m’es tant char
All alone
Sitting before my cottage
one dark night alone
Above me the bright stars
slowly cross the sky.
Not a sound can I hear
but the Inn down in the bottom of the valley.
Nothing can I see around but the glistening
of the crystal mountain tops.
Now the moon pushes up its head
behind yonder big glacier.
Stares right at me: tell me,
are you all alone?
A bright light sparkling there
above my tiny corner gladdens my heart,
a light burning above the roof,
a roof so dear to me.
And up there, full of feeling
I see an eye shining at me,
greeting me with contented love
as if to say to me:
I am with you, you are with me
My soul, my delight,
however dark the night, however bright the sun,
you are never all alone.
E sü vers mai plain sentimaint
ün ögl eu vez glüschir
am salüdond d’amur cuntaint
e chi am para dir:
eu sun pro tai, tü est pro mai
mi’orma meis dalet
da s-chüra not, da cler sulai
vallader
nun est mai sul sulet
m: Robert Cantieni
t: Andrea Bezzola
«Versiun Parodia»: LA GRISCHA
Mes engraziament il pli cordial a suandantas persunas che han sustegnì
LA GRISCHA cun cussegl ed engaschi!
–Musica, arranschaments e passiun:
Patricia Draeger, Albin Brun e Claudio
Strebel
–Als cumponists, poets e lur descendents
per la lubientscha d’interpretar da nov
quest stgazi da chanzuns: Gion Antoni
Derungs, Carli Scherrer, Curò Mani, famiglia
Tumasch Dolf: Trudi Bott-Juon, Telgia Juon,
famiglia Peider Lansel: Bernard Andry
Piguet, David Piguet, las famiglias
R. Cantieni ed A. Bezzola. Nus sperain, che
la parodia da jazz da Sul Sulet plaschia.
–Tut las fotografias èn vegnidas fatgas en
il magasin dal museum Museum Regiunal
Surselva. Fotografias: Sava Hlavacek.
–Iso Albin per avair chavà ils cristals ord
il furn enorm da l’archiv Maissen e
per sia savida profunda da la chanzun
populara rumantscha.
–Remo Arpagaus per ils cudeschs da
chanzuns vegls e las notas: «canz. pop. rom.»
–Al scrivent Arno Camenisch per las
linernotes cun il det al puls.
–Mike Evans per la translaziun dals texts
en englais.
–Per il booking da La Grischa: Erika Schaer,
Kulturkontakte Basel
–Patricia Umbricht per il «fundraising» e la
lavur da pressa cultact-Giuliani Kulturbüro.
–Phil Erdin per registraziun, maschaida
e mastering
–Nicola Kneringer percussion salep e la
furmicla
–Rolf Schocher per il design ed il hosting
da www.corin.ch
–Annette Ringier & CLAP, Pflanzplätz,
Claudia Weinmann, Andy Gabriel, Stubete
am See, Menga Dolf, Benedetto Vigne,
Astrid Alexandre, Roman Weishaupt, Anna
Serarda Campell & La Vouta, Marianne
Fischbacher, Carin Cadonau, Dide Marfurt,
Walter Lietha & Narrenschiff, Anita Decurtins,
Gieri Venzin, Mathias Balzer © Produktion,
Walter Fuchs, Rico Valär, Isabella Mani,
Peter Schmid, Ann Nielsen, Elisabeth
Schubiger, Cinema Sil Plaz a Glion / Ilanz,
Werner Carigiet, famiglia Aubry, Anna
Ratti, Tosho Yakkatokuo/Club Exil, Brigitta
Schwarz, famiglia Nicolay, famiglia
Curschellas, a.d.a.m, *Linard Nicolay
–Grazia R-tunes – Michel Decurtins e
Manfred Zazzi – che jau dastg inaugurar
il nov label rumantsch cun LA GRISCHA!
Bler success!
–Grazia als uffizis da cultura, als donaturs
ed a las fundaziuns.
Vus avais pussibilità il disc.
1 randulin 2 Jau mava da stgir a da notg 3 Mintga sera cu jeu varghel 4Star se legher 5 Giu enten quella val 6 Canzun Veglia Da Ziteil 7 Salep e la furmicla
8 Spel lag 9 Saira per saira 10 Donna Donna ve a chà 11 Allas steilas 12 La canzun Dil Bau 13 Il cumün in silenzi 14 Zuola roda Zuola 15 Agl iester 16 Ninna nanna 17 Sul sulet 3:20
5:25
2:46
3:52
4:01
3:30
3:28
4:36
2:30
2:11
4:26
3:37
4:41
4:42
2:47
3:45
3:51
Corin Curschellas: chant /Gesang
Patricia Draeger: accordeon /Akkordeon
Albin Brun: saxofon en sopran e tenor /Sopran- und Tenorsax,
orgelet da maun da Sviz /Schwyzerörgeli (10 & 13), Toy-Piano (5),
flauta da tuns armonics superiurs /Obertonflöte (7),
Duduk (11), Waterphone (13)
Claudio Strebel: cuntrabass /Kontrabass
Deutsche Übersetzungen der Liedtexte auf www.corin.ch