Ghosts of Craig-Y-Nos
Craig-Y-Nos Castle (Rock of the Night) was built in the Welsh countryside in 1841-43 and has become known as one of the most haunted castles in all of the UK. It was purchased by the famous opera singer Adelina Patti in 1878, and after her death in 1919 became a children’s tuberculosis sanatorium until 1986. In writing Ghosts of Craig Y Nos, I aimed to explore as much of the lucid history of the castle as possible. The majority of the text is extracted from two poems written by Adelina Patti’s maid, Ethel Lunn. There are two A.I. generated recordings of letters written by the tuberculosis patient Horace Batts, which are imbedded in the tapestry of digital media that is constantly unfolding. The work closes with a 1905 recording of Adelina Patti singing Sir Henry Bishop’s Home, Sweet Home. The expansive and shifting moods which the music so hauntingly captures, feels like one is reaching back in time to touch the stories which only the moonlit stones the castle is built upon could tell. The performance shown above was recorded by Heidi Schneider, for whom the work was written. The poetry/text set, can be found below.
“I have been put on absolute rest, which means I must not move in bed, receive no visitors, write no letters,
have everything done for me, even being fed. It is to get my temperature down I suppose. Don’t worry, will
you? We had a nice service on wireless Sunday night. I thought of Sunday nights I should have gone to chapel
but never did. I wish now I had, but if Godwill spare me I bet I’ll be different. I’ve said that before, haven’t I
though?”
From limestone ridge and mountain crest
The landscape seems a vast unrest.
Disturbed the face of nature shows
The rocky vale where Tawé flows.
Beautiful as sunshine on Tawe's vale unfurled,
A nightingale once sang a song that rang across the world.
The vales with green and gold are fair,
And cool and sweet the mountain air.
Yet nature in her wildest mood
Can best be read and understood.
Bewitching as the tapestry the Ashgrove weaves in June
When summer beams are falling from rising summer moon.
“Dear Mam and all, Just a line on the q.t.. Tell Mrs. P. not to send any more cakes as cakes are not allowed. I
shall want some eggs and fruit. You can send bananas, apples, etc., but no pears. Sister opens all my letters,
parcels, just slits them that’s all, so be careful what you are sending. It’s a funny business this, being fed and
everything. I have gone shivering but that’s to be expected. Remember me to all.”
And raised amid this glorious space
A lordly house of light and grace -
A gem of art in nature set
That one shall see and ne'er forget.
Softer than the sigh of grasses playing with the breeze,
Louder than the storm that tears among the leafless trees.
And yet enchantment reared the walls,
And filled with luxury its halls.
The power of a voice achieved
More than magician e'er conceived,
And raised a castle high and strong
By aid of music and of song.
Across the world it sounded, may it echo loud and long,
The peerless voice of Patti, beloved queen of song.
have everything done for me, even being fed. It is to get my temperature down I suppose. Don’t worry, will
you? We had a nice service on wireless Sunday night. I thought of Sunday nights I should have gone to chapel
but never did. I wish now I had, but if Godwill spare me I bet I’ll be different. I’ve said that before, haven’t I
though?”
From limestone ridge and mountain crest
The landscape seems a vast unrest.
Disturbed the face of nature shows
The rocky vale where Tawé flows.
Beautiful as sunshine on Tawe's vale unfurled,
A nightingale once sang a song that rang across the world.
The vales with green and gold are fair,
And cool and sweet the mountain air.
Yet nature in her wildest mood
Can best be read and understood.
Bewitching as the tapestry the Ashgrove weaves in June
When summer beams are falling from rising summer moon.
“Dear Mam and all, Just a line on the q.t.. Tell Mrs. P. not to send any more cakes as cakes are not allowed. I
shall want some eggs and fruit. You can send bananas, apples, etc., but no pears. Sister opens all my letters,
parcels, just slits them that’s all, so be careful what you are sending. It’s a funny business this, being fed and
everything. I have gone shivering but that’s to be expected. Remember me to all.”
And raised amid this glorious space
A lordly house of light and grace -
A gem of art in nature set
That one shall see and ne'er forget.
Softer than the sigh of grasses playing with the breeze,
Louder than the storm that tears among the leafless trees.
And yet enchantment reared the walls,
And filled with luxury its halls.
The power of a voice achieved
More than magician e'er conceived,
And raised a castle high and strong
By aid of music and of song.
Across the world it sounded, may it echo loud and long,
The peerless voice of Patti, beloved queen of song.