The time is now, but the music is timeless.

A group of women has gathered at a home in Fort Kent. Their quest is to learn and pass on French-language ballads, some of which go back 300 years and tell not only of a history but a culture, as well.

The women, who have been meeting monthly for the past four months, are learning songs “de bouche a l’oreille” (“from mouth to ear” in English). Rachel Leblanc, among the last of the singers who know these chansons traditionnelles, is teaching them from a songbook that she has put together from her vast repertory. She is assisted by her older daughter, Lucie Ouellette.

Leblanc, the youngest of eight children of Joseph and Alma Ouellette, grew up in a house filled with music, which was the family’s main form of entertainment.

Late in her father’s life, the 63-year-old Edmunston, New Brunswick woman began recording the traditional tunes sung by her parents, and collected 30 cassettes of 150 to 200 songs. She has set up a home studio and is creating her own CDs of these songs, having released one in December and another in April.

These women from the St. John Valley, ranging in age from 9 to 47, are learning under the auspices of the Ballad Singing Apprenticeship Project, sponsored by the Maine Arts Commission’s Traditional Arts Apprenticeship program.

The project was the brainchild of Lisa Ornstein, director of the Acadian Archives at the University of Maine at Fort Kent. She had created a similar project in 2002 so that eight St. John Valley women could learn the art of rug braiding from then-89-year-old Bertha Voisine.

Musical folklore has always been near to Ornstein’s heart, ever since she earned a master’s degree in folklore at Laval University in Quebec, then did fieldwork in the province in the 1980s.

She felt there was an urgency to create another generation that knew these songs.

“We decided to focus on ballad singing because of its importance in the Valley and because this once-popular heritage art is on the verge of disappearance,” Ornstein said. “Ten years after the folk arts survey I did in the 1990s, all of the local singers I interviewed were either no longer alive or no longer able to sing, with the notable exceptions of Mrs. Leblanc and her daughter.”

Ornstein approached Leblanc with the idea, and she was honored to accept.

“[These songs] are from her ancestors,” explained Leblanc’s younger daughter, Judy Hager, translating for her mother. “She feels for her it was like a treasure. She likes to share it with others who haven’t had a chance to hear those songs.”

Ornstein quickly found more than enough willing students. One of them was Lila Cancelarich of Fort Kent, a stay-at-home mom whose grandfather was the noted traditional singer Joseph Theriault.

“My grandfather was a ballad singer,” Cancelarich explained. “It’s something my family hasn’t continued, and we’ve really missed it.”

Bab Cote of Van Buren had attempted something similar with an elderly lady, who fell sick before they had gotten too far.

“I’ve always been very interested in Acadian history, so I thought this was a great opportunity,” she said.

Each participant received a songbook with lyrics and a CD of the songs to be learned. They practice two to three songs per meeting, then rehearse at home during the month.

“It’s nice to have the CD and the words,” said Cote, who hopes to perform the chansons at local events. “I’ll be singing along, and my husband will say, ‘Would you be quiet? I’m trying to listen to the ballgame.'”

One recent get-together started with the group listening to a cut from Leblanc’s latest CD. The song is one from the large “drunken husband, nagging wife” genre. Before long, all were rolling in their chairs with laughter.

Music was almost a form of therapy for the French in past years.

“It made their lives seem so much easier, singing about the troubles of others,” Cote said.

Ouellette added, “They used comedy to approach the subject without conflict.”

Many of the songs lose something when translated into English.

“Some of these things have more meaning in French than in English,” Cancelarich said. “French is a lot more descriptive than English. With one word, we have a picture. If we translate it, people don’t get the meaning.”

The first song the women tackled was “La Riviere est-elle b’en large par chez-vous, mon p’tit garcon?” A soldier on one side of the river is shouting to a boy on the other side, trying to find out about the depth of the river. The soldier is the straight man, with the boy turning the other’s words inside out. Ouellette took the soldier’s role, while the rest of the group sang the reply. All were smiling by the time the song was done, and some were laughing.

Much as it was this evening, song was an integral part of the French household.

“It would bring the whole family together,” Ornstein said. “They would sing and dance and make an evening of it, complete with homemade alcohol.”

It was also recreation at workplaces, such as lumber camps.

“Men would be out in the woods, singing and telling stories, and learning from each other,” Ornstein said.

Next up was “Je voudrais maman,” a dialogue song between a mother and daughter. The mother lists all the daughter has at home, but the daughter stubbornly insists that all she wants is to marry her true love.

The group also performed “La poulette grise” (“The Little Grey Hen”), a rhyming lullaby in which different-colored hens lay different-colored eggs.

“We find versions of that song that date back to the 1700s or earlier,” Ornstein said. “The language is so ancient that you come upon a word that hasn’t been used for hundreds of years.”

Cote added, “Sometimes you have to figure it out through context.”

This group is continuing a long tradition of oral history.

“It’s been said we learn to write in order to forget, and there’s something to that,” Ornstein said.

The apprenticeship is only set to cover about 14 songs, but Leblanc would love to see it continued to include more numbers.

Ouellette has been gratified by the group’s enjoyment of the old songs.

“I’ve been amazed at how happy other people are to learn these songs,” she said. “Some seem to remind them of older relatives singing these songs. They’re heartwarming songs, that seem to bring unity with other people.”

Cancelarich appreciates what she has been learning, and plans to pass it on to her children.

“It’s made me aware of how important our heritage is, and how easily it could be lost,” she said. “We’re struggling to keep the French language alive in this area, and these songs are going to help.”

Dale McGarrigle can be reached at 990-8028 and dmcgarrigle@bangordailynews.net.

(Pull quote) “This once-popular heritage art is on the verge of disappearance.” Lisa Ornstein, director of the Acadian Archives at the University of Maine at Fort Kent