Whisky Focus - SWA Centenary Poem Freedom an Whisky gang thegither

The Scotch Whisky Association (SWA) have launched its Centenary celebrations with the reading of a specially-commissioned poem by the Makar, or Scottish National Poet, Liz Lochhead.

Ms Lochhead's poem, "For the Centenary of The Scotch Whisky Association", draws on Robert Burns's famous declaration that "Freedom an Whisky gang thegither". It celebrates the growing and maturing taste for Scotch Whisky, and its association with poetry and friendship, as:

'Distillations of history, language, weather
in an usqueba o barley, burn, water, peat.'

Ms Lochhead said:

"I was delighted to be asked by the SWA to write a poem in a landmark year for them. It was a pleasure to trace the course of whisky-making from the rough to the smooth, and to try to evoke all aromas, the colours and flavours of this subtle drink. Writers and whisky have an even longer history than the SWA. Congratulations to the Association on its first hundred years."

The SWA will reach its anniversary in October, about 100 days from now. From the end of November the SWA will be holding a major exhibition at the Scottish Parliament. The exhibition entitled Scotch Whisky: From Grain to Glass will run in the Parliament's Main Hall for two months. It will bring together artefacts and images from distilleries across Scotland. It will be the first time many of these objects will be put on public display.

The Association has also launched a new website at www.scotch-whisky.org.uk which includes sections dedicated to its history and Centenary.

A brochure is being produced which will chart the landmark events of the last 100 years. An in-depth piece on the economic contribution of the Scotch Whisky industry will be published later this year.

Gavin Hewitt, chief executive of the SWA, said:

"We've come a long way since October 1912 when the Wine & Sprit Brand Association was founded in London, before becoming the SWA in 1942.

"Although the world has changed, our priorities remain remarkably similar. We protect, promote and represent the Scotch Whisky industry at home and abroad. We look forward to doing so for another 100 years and beyond."

"Freedom an Whisky gang thegither" by Liz Lochhead

Verse i.
When we sit wined and finely dined,
Dressed up in oor best, braw and fancy,
Oh, it’s a far cry tonight, in this company bright,
From the rude and hoorin howff o Poosie Nancy.
Friends, we hae a history:
Rough stuff. ‘Rascally Kilbagie’
Mair fiery by faur than ‘lost Ferintosh’ and fit,
fit for but ‘the most rascally part’,
fit for but the bard’s Jolly Beggars,
fit only for ‘rectifying’ into Hollands gin
-- in the back lanes of London,
Mother’s Ruin.
Sing, drunk for a penny,
Blin fou for tuppence, quaff
An ye shall hae straw for free
When you maun sleep it aff.

Verse ii.
Two hundred and fifty years…
How many thousand bottlings
to the honeyed finish,
aromas of lavender, sherry-cask or gorse;
essences and esters of salt, pine, nutmeg, smoke;
tinctures of topaz, amber, mahogany,
palest straw, purest gold, liquid?
Liquors, elixirs, infused with -- is that a
hint of anise, even liquorice?
Toddies tea-coloured, smooth and soothing --
can you taste tobacco, heather-nectar, rain or moorland,
smell the sea?
How many thousand bottlings, angels’ shares,
new market leaders in the field,
till today’s best blends and the triple-distilled?

Verse iii.
Ask MacDiarmid, ask Ettrick Hogg --
Wha took his whisky ‘by the joug’ --
Ask Rab himsel, an he will tell you whether --
-- Language made essence, thought distilled --
Inspiration’s whit a dram might yield
If poetry an whisky gang thegither?
Consider. Answer. Aye, right well thegither.
Though – taken by the jug-fu – either yin’s reduced to blether.

Verse iv.
And friendship an whisky surely gang thegither?
It’s the aqua vitae we imbibe wi yin another.
A hip-flask in the cauld, uncorked, a shared swig,
A deal sealed wi a word and a dram,
Och, see us a splash of water from thon china jug,
Gie us drappie in my coffee mug,
There’s aye a drouth for true companionship, until at last
The luggit cup o the quaich is passed.
Sweetness sipped from a chinked glass, cheers!
Savour friendship.
Its flavour will mature for years.

Verse v.
And – if freedom an whisky gang thegither –
How do you like your freedom? Swallowed neat?
Distillations of history, language, weather
In an usqueba o barley, burn water, peat.
 

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