Godbotherers & godpleasers

Olov Johansson is a Swedish key harp (nyckleharpa) player (“you push the frets to the strings, rather than pushing the strings to the frets”) who has developed strong connections with traditional Irish musicians. Traditional Swedish music I would describe as more formal, gentle and classical in its patterns than our traditional music, but last night’s concert was an exploration of the universality to be found in music through collaboration rather than about differences.

Conor Byrne has brought together Dervish fiddler, Tom Morrow; peripatetic guitar player and singer, Gerry O’Beirne; and Olov (who has also played with Dervish & many other Irish musicians) for a Music Network tour exploring music’s inevitable fluidity of form.

Olov’s ability to play traditional Irish music (ranging from mostly straight along melodic lines to occasional more adventurous harmonies) as well as the time he has spent here absorbing the traditions are bound to influence some of his playing of Swedish music and his compositions, and the same goes for the Irish players. In fact, I thought I detected something a little Swedish about one of Tom Morrow’s own reels, though I could be wrong. And surely Olov’s ‘Going Green’, which he wrote especially for his companions on stage, has some nod to the Irish tunes he’s been listening to and joining in on.

The arrangements of the Swedish polskas and waltzes that we heard were impressively handled by mostly trad-playing Conor Byrne and Tom Morrow (the latter employing a viola for the purposes), and, it seemed to me, particularly relished (as a new journey?) by the less easily ‘placed’ Gerry O’Beirne.

In a diagrammatic way, you could say the Swedish tunes were the ‘serious European’ element of the night, while the Irish reels were the ‘wild island’ element, and so Gerry’s cosmopolitan songs, instruments and playing were the ‘wayfaring vessel’ of this voyaging variety show, or the comedy! Chicken is Nice, an African fishing song had us singing along in the pews, for instance. But that artificially imposed structure completely falls apart when you think of Gerry’s serene Night in Ventry on solo ukulele and his beautiful Fergus River Roundelay; the weightiness of Conor’s TG4 piece, Faoi Lán Cheoil (“made up more than composed”); and the gentle jauntiness of many of the Swedish pieces.

Gerry’s versatile playing moved easily from chord-rhythm accompaniment to melody & harmonies and lead; and his compositions were thrilling. His wry sense of humour and profane sense of life come across brilliantly in his songs and introductory remarks. (He has also given me my first experience of slide guitar in trad music.)

Another first for me was to hear Conor Byrne singing live. He has a very strong voice (runs in family, clearly; reminded me most, though, of Dave Curley of Slide) and displayed lots of its character in nailing and putting his own stamp on both a Fionn Regan & a Christy Moore. Meanwhile his and Tom’s consistent lift and interplay in the reels that formed the backbone of the playlist was the icing on the cake of a fantastic night of songs, re-working of old tunes, and original tunes from many traditions.

Fair dues to Music Network & all who have put this together.

Review of Iarla Ó Lionáird at Havana’s Journados Culturales con Irlanda

PERHAPS IT was just the heat, but, as Iarla Ó Lionáird lifted his voice into the rafters of Havana’s venerable Basilica Menor de San Francisco de Asis, we felt a shiver run down our spines. To hear Ó Lionáird’s sean nós fill the vast, dim space above our heads, here in the heart of Habana vieja (Old Havana) where music is so vital, was to feel a momentary swell of tír grá. And the standing ovation it received from an attentive Cuban audience confirmed that Ó Lionáird’s nuanced laments touched an emotional chord even for those not raised on its sound.

In contrast to the depth and sincerity of the opening concert, the performance by members of Comhaltas Ceoltóirí Éireann at the National Theatre of Cuba later in the week struck some Irish observers as belonging to an earlier, more self-conscious expression of the Irish tradition. With flowing gowns and impish charm, and a role call of Irish standards including An Poc Ar Buile , this was not a concert for the cognoscenti.

(Times) >>>

Siobhán Long in Times review of This is How We Fly

“Ó Raghallaigh’s own tunes were a celebration of circular motion. Ellipses and What What What delved deep into the heart of recurring chord sequences, as if they were the illicit offspring of Martin Hayes, whose love for unpicking well-worn traditional tunes to unveil their simple essence is almost a trademark by now… Traditional music shot through with the adrenaline of contemporary influences: a lethal but irresistible cocktail… This Is How We Fly is a quartet soaked in tradition, but intent, just as TS Eliot sagely suggested, not to drag it around with them like a dead load, but to harvest fresh bounties from the seeds of their inheritance.” (Times) >>>

Bob Brozman, John McSherry and Dónal O’Connor’s CD, Six Days In Down

On Six Days In Down, two cutting-edge talents on the Irish music scene, the masterful uilleann piper John McSherry and fiddle virtuoso Dónal O’Connor, join forces with the globe-trotting slide-guitarist Bob Brozman to explore fresh perspectives on the living tradition. Featuring the haunting vocals of Stephanie Makem, the trio deliver an album of startling beauty with splashes of gentle humour.

BUY IT HERE >>>

[Siobhan Long in Times >>>] Six Days In Down is a sparkling collection of tunes, mostly drawn from a traditional Irish base (with two songs from Stephanie Makem), but infused with a rhythmic sensibility and a tonal depth that’s refreshingly unexpected. “I did not set out to be a great Irish musician on this project,” he explains.“It’s half a lifetime of work. Indian music’s a full lifetime. I think Irish music is at least half a lifetime! But we went about the making of art over six days, at 12 to 18 hours each day. It’s a wonderful way to make friends – with music. It’s like having a conversation with 100 times the density and speed.” (Times) >>>

Brian Carson, www.movingonmusic.co.uk: “I first came across the music of Bob Brozman about ten years ago and subsequently heard a live broadcast and interview on Andy Kershaw’s radio programme. I found Bob’s music, style and intelligence very engaging and, although steeped in various traditions, the music was forward-looking.

Eventually I got the opportunity to work with Bob and under the auspices of Moving On Music. He has since visited Northern Ireland three times and toured as a solo artist. It was during a very successful 2005 tour that he mentioned in passing that it might be an interesting collaboration and challenge for him to work with Irish traditional musicians; this stuck in my mind.

I first briefly met the then-teenage Dónal O’Connor at an Irish festival in Valence in the south of France in 1998 and shortly afterwards bumped into him in a shop in Belfast, having no idea that he was studying in the city. It then became apparent to me that he was a new, young and important talent in the traditional music scene. In 2007, Moving On Music set up a tour for the band At First Light, of which he was a member along with (among others) the uilleann piper John McSherry.

In 2006, Moving On Music had the opportunity to apply to the Arts Council of Northern Ireland Lottery Fund for the support of various new initiatives and was in discussion internally as to what we would like to do if new funds became available. The subject of commissioning new work came up and suddenly it brought to mind what Bob Brozman had mentioned the previous year, so we duly set about thinking about who he might collaborate with. The choice seemed obvious – we were already working with the very people who were great, open-minded Irish musicians – so in late 2006 we asked Bob to give up a day off from a long UK tour to fly to Belfast to discuss the possibilities with Dónal and John. The discussions went well, and we all decided to go forward.

We were awarded a lottery grant in June 2007 and the composition/recording project took place in Downpatrick in early February 2008, when (two-trolley) Bob landed at George Best International Airport in Belfast.

I’d like to thank the musicians for the opportunity to help to make this all happen and for their patience, faith and – above all – their creative music-making.

Of course, along the way it was always a consideration that nothing might come of this collaboration, that traditions and sensibilities might be compromised and diluted, I don’t think so. What I do know is: what have we here is fresh, beautiful and passionate music; I hope you think so too. “

Tour dates remaining:

22 October 2010 North Down Museum – Bangor Time: 8pm Tickets: £10/£8 (conc) from 028 3752 1821 and www.northdown.gov.uk/arts Promoted by North Down Borough Council

23 October 2010 The Lodge – Castlewellan Time: 8pm Tickets: £10/£8 (conc) from 028 4461 0747 More information available from www.downartscentre.com Promoted by Down District Council

24 October 2010 Mermaid Arts Centre – Bray, Co. Wicklow Time: 8pm Tickets: €16/€14 (conc) from (+353) 01 272 4030 and www.mermaidartscentre.ie Promoted by Mermaid Arts Centre

26 October 2010 Café Oto – Dalston, London Time: 8pm Tickets: £10 in advance from www.cafeoto.co.uk and £12 on the door Promoted in association with Far Side Music and supported by the Creative Industries Innovation Fund

27 October 2010 Strule Arts Centre – Omagh Time: 8pm Tickets: £10 from 028 8224 7831 and www.struleartscentre.co.uk Promoted by Omagh District Council

Track List:

1. Hardiman The Fiddler
(Hardiman The Fiddler/Michelle O’Sullivan’s) – Slip Jig/Jig
(trad, arr Brozman / McSherry / O’Connor)

Instruments: fiddle, uilleann pipes, low whistle, two tricone guitars, bass on tricone, cajón

‘Hardiman The Fiddler’ is a popular slip jig, which is thought to have been named in honour of James Hardiman, first librarian of Queen’s College in Galway and author of Irish Minstrelsy, Or Bardic Remains, published in 1831. The second tune was learned from a private recording of County Kerry concertina player Michelle O’Sullivan.

2. Brelydian
(Brozman / McSherry / O’Connor)

Instruments: fiddle, low whistle, tricone guitar, bass on baritone tricone, Kona Hawaiian guitar, cajón

We set about composing a tune in the Lydian mode and considered a slow polka rhythm to be fitting, as it is not much used in Irish traditional music.

3. A Mháire Bruineall
(trad, arr Brozman / Makem / McSherry / O’Connor)

Instruments: vocal, fiddle, low F whistle, two baritone tricone guitars, cajón

A County Donegal song, originally composed by Tadhg O Tiománaidhe in the mid-1700s, in an effort to woo back his true love. This version, however, was taken from the singing of Aine Uí Laoi, born in the Gaoth Dobhair Gaeltacht (native Irish-language-speaking area), in northwest Donegal. We are delighted to introduce the wonderfully haunting vocals of our good friend Stephanie Makem, on this track.

4. Portaferry Swing
(Ragged Annie/The Boys Of Portaferry/Cameronian Reel)
(trad, arr Brozman / McSherry / O’Connor)

Instruments: fiddle, uilleann pipes, tricone guitar

‘Ragged Annie’ or ‘Ragtime Annie’ is a popular American fiddle tune, which John learned from the playing of Francis and Jack McIlduff of Belfast. The earliest appearance of ‘Ragtime Annie’ that can be documented, in print or otherwise, is the 78rpm recording by Texan fiddler Eck Robertson, in 1923.

‘Buachaillí Port An Pheire’ (‘The Boys Of Portaferry’) is closely related to ‘The Pullet’ and ‘The Sporting Boys’. Portaferry lies at the southern end of the Ards Peninsula, at the entrance to Strangford Lough, and is 20 kilometres from Downpatrick, where this recording took place.

‘The Cameronian Reel’ was learned from the County Donegal fiddle player John Doherty and can be found as tune number 1512 in O’Neill’s Music Of Ireland, The 1850.

5. Róise Na bhFonn – Tuneful Rose
(Dónal O’Connor)

Instruments: fiddle, Kona Hawaiian guitar

This slow air was composed by Dónal in appreciation of, and in homage to, his grandmother Rose O’Connor, who was his first fiddle teacher and had an immense influence on his music.

6. Pota Mór Fataí
(trad, arr Brozman / McSherry / O’Connor)

Instruments: two Chaturanguiguitars, low whistle, high D whistle, fiddle, cajón

This is the air to a song we heard from the singing of Sean-nós singer Róisín Elsafty, from Connemara.

7. The Slide From Grace
(Dusty Miller’s/Dan O’Keefe’s/The Slide From Grace)
Dusty Miller’s (trad, arr Brozman / McSherry / O’Connor).
Dan O’Keefe’s (trad, arr Brozman / McSherry / O’Connor).
The Slide From Grace (John McSherry)

Instruments: fiddle, low whistle, tricone guitar, bass on baritone tricone, charango, cajón

‘The Dusty Miller’ is a triple hornpipe, which appears in the William Vickers manuscript of 1770–72.

‘Dan O’Keefe’s’ or ‘Danny Ab’s’ was learned from the fiddle playing of Padraig O’Keefe, Dennis Murphy and Julia Clifford, and appears as tune number 86 in Breandán Breathnach’s Ceol Rince na hÉireann 2.

‘The Slide From Grace’ is a slip slide and was composed by John while thinking of the numerous people who ‘had it all’ and let it slip away.

8. Bean An Fhir Ruaidh
(trad, arr Brozman / Makem / O’Connor)

Instruments: vocals, two Kona Hawaiian guitars

‘Bean An Fhir Ruaidh’ (‘The Red Haired Man’s Wife’) is a story of a man’s unrequited love for a married woman. Many versions of this song exist throughout Ireland but, in the most well-known version, the lyrics are attributed to the writings of Cathal Buí Mac Giolla Ghunna, the Ulster poet, and Riocaird Bairéad, a writer from Bangor Erris, County Mayo. The nineteenth-century Tyrone novelist William Carleton noted that his mother was once asked to sing the English version of the song. She said, ‘I’ll sing it for you, but the English words and the air are like a quarrelling man and his wife – the Irish melts into the tune but the English doesn’t.’

9. Beer Belly Dancing
(Brozman / McSherry / O’Connor)

Instruments: baritone tricone, low whistle, fiddle, cajón, charango

The idea of this collective composition was to have a tune with rhythmically Irish melodic phrases, but using a middle-eastern type of mode for note choices, the result is a funky musical mix of beer and belly dancing.

10. The Beauty Spot
(The Beauty Spot/Brendan McMahon’s/Miss Johnston’s Youghal Quay)
(trad, arr Brozman / McSherry / O’Connor)

Instruments: fiddle, uilleann pipes, bass on baritone tricone, two tricone guitars, cajón

‘The Beauty Spot’ appears as tune number 185 in volume 1 of The Roche Collection Of Traditional Irish Music and was learned from the playing of Dublin piper Mick O’Brien.

‘Brendan McMahon’s’ was recorded by Dónal’s father Gerry O’Connor on the album Skylark and was learned from the County Clare accordion player Andrew MacNamara. We believe it to be a version of ‘The Steam Packet’ reel.

‘Miss Johnston’s’ is a traditional reel of Scottish origin. ‘Youghal Quay’ was composed by the accordion player and prolific composer Paddy O’Brien, from Newtown in County Tipperary. While researching the tune titles for this album, we discovered that the tune we have learned is an assimilation of the two. This can happen quite easily in the oral tradition. Now we’ve told you, we’re off to relearn the two tunes correctly!

11. Cailleach A Shúsa – The Hag In The Blanket
(trad, arr Brozman / McSherry / O’Connor)

Instruments: two Chaturangui guitars, bass on baritone tricone, fiddle, uilleann pipes, low whistle, bodhrán

‘Cailleach A Shúsa’ (‘The Hag in the Blanket’) was learned from the playing of Todd Denman and Dale Russ, and appears as tune number 889 in O’Neill’s Music Of Ireland, The 1850. In Irish mythology, the Cailleach is a powerful hag often identified to a deity ruling the winter months between Samhain and Beltane. In days of old, when an unusually heavy storm threatened, people would tell each other, ‘The Cailleach is going to tramp her blankets tonight.’

Siobhan Long on A Moment of Madess

Siobhan Long reviewing Brendan Begley and Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh’s Le Gealaigh/A Moment of Madness IrishMusic.Net Records: “The pair’s approach to this collection of polkas, slides, marches and slippery jig (a variation on a tune borrowed from the great Paddy Cronin) would put fire in the belly of a corpse. It’s a picaresque expedition into the unknown, with feet, fingers and the wily spirit of two passionate players lighting the way ahead… Ó Raghallaigh’s hardanger fiddle finds remarkable solace in Begley’s bellows-deep box … The accordion wails and blows like a whale while Ó Raghallaigh’s fiddle darts and dives, propelled by the sheer force of Begley’s fiery rhythms.” (Times) >>>

Earle Hitchner review of Begley & Ó Raghallaigh’s A Moment of Madness

Without accompaniment, which is a seemingly growing trend in Ireland that I identified in prior “Ceol” columns, Begley and O Raghallaigh deliver the full power of their joint music on “A Moment of Madness.” Their use of dynamics and their control of tempo–descending into whispery softness or ascending into bright boldness, slowing the pace or accelerating it–are as deft as they get in Irish traditional music, and the passages of improvisation are so rich in invention and detail that each subsequent close listening provides further, deeper disclosures. Binding their techniques in service of the tune is unadulterated jubilance.

The tangy, eminently danceable, Sliabh Luachra flavor of “The Humours of Lisheen / The Munster Jig / Sean Coughlin’s” summons images of Johnny O’Leary, Padraig O’Keeffe, Denis Murphy, and Julia Clifford sitting in a session together. The swing in Begley and O Raghallaigh’s box-and-fiddle playing is infectious.

Recorded live at the Lab in Dingle, “An Buachaill Caol Dubh / On Book Hill: Quail Dove (or Debut Kill) / I Wish I Had a Kerry Cow” begins hauntingly with Begley’s solo button accordion playing and then switches in tempo to a brisk blend of box and fiddle for the next two tunes. This track has so much in it–Brendan plays the box with nimble slyness while O Raghallaigh plays pizzicato on fiddle at one point–that it demands re-listening, preferably under headphones. (Irish Echo) >>>

Slide at Michigan Irish Music Festival

Blogger, Laurie Gail Sutton, writes: “It’s tough to go back to business as usual when you’ve got Daire Bracken bouncing and whirling around on your mental stage like the Tazmanian Devil with a fiddle!”

Siobhan Long on Tír Na nÓg

Live at Sirius sees Sonny Condell’s songwriting stand the test of time with gusto, while his ageless voice breathes fresh life into old favourites, including Time Is Like a Promise . Leo O’Kelly’s fiddle traces an oddly circuitous route at times, yet his bass tones quietly complement Condell’s ethereal vocals. (Times) >>>

‘Comb Your Hair and Curl’ It reviewed by Earle Hitchner

Earle Hitchner in the Irish Echo likens the recent recording by Catherine McEvoy, Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh & Mícheál Ó Raghallaigh to the 1979 album ‘Noel Hill and Tony Linnane’ in its musicians “catching fire” quality. A “stupendous album”, he writes, “that does not compromise individual virtuosity to attain a fully complementary trio sound. At times their playing seems to reach too far beyond itself, their creativity refusing any circumscription, but the trio’s grasp is sure and confident, and that is the deep-dwelling source of the album’s strength and sparkle.”

See > www.caoimhinoraghallaigh.com/scrapbook/hitchnercomb1.pdf

Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh, Seán Óg, Petter Berndalen, Nic Gareiss @ Fringe

Last night’s fun was a gig, Four on the Fringe of Folk at the Grand Social, that cleary had a powerful impact on a lot of people – it’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a tight space, filled with so many people totally unphased by having to stand still and crowd in to get a peek of the performace that was producing this amazing soundscape, and beg for more at the end of it. The applause & cheers said it all after nearly every number.

Nic Gareiss is a dancer from Michigan. Petter Brendalen is a Swedish percussionist. Seán Óg is saxophonist from Dublin (who we know here from his work with Eithne Ní Chathain.) Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh hardly needs an introduction here. (Describing each of the musicians by their main instrument, thus, is to do them a disservice – reducing masters of musical creativity to mere players. These guys go beyond the medium.)

To get the negatives out of the way: I thought the saxes were a bit too backgrounded at times; and not being able to see Nic’s feet was a real let-down. I, at six foot tall, could just about see his waist, so I guess some didn’t even see his head, never mind his feet. Not the best view of a dancer, and when percussion is there taking up the same auditory space – you don’t even have the sound to fall back on. It’s a shame a mirror or even projection of some sort wasn’t used to help “amplify” the dance element, which featured in nearly every number. Hearing fully Nic’s footwork on the salted stage during his solo piece only served to make you realise even more just what it was you were missing the rest of the time. Pity.

But those issues aside, this Caoimhín-organised collaboration of musicians, including Nic, really produced some of the most ear-opening live musical experiences I’ve had in a while. There was a wide range of influences on display including American, Eastern European, Irish, Scandinavian, and much respect for tradition to be heard throughout, but with Caoimhín’s ambient & lyrical leanings, Sean Og’s jazz & electronica input, Nic’s movements as a focal point for the musicians, and Petter’s transcending percussion, each number took off to the fringes via a quirky route of its own – sometimes even surprising the musicians themselves, I sense.

Perhaps the most eclectic of numbers (in the same standing, say, as Gonzo eating a rubber tyre to the music of the Flight of the Bumblebee on the Muppet Album) was Petter’s solo drum one, which started out with him doing da-da-da mouth drumming, and pretending to teach the audience different parts of what would have become an audience participation piece but which through various ironic, comic turns, including sounding like he was telling a story, still da-da-da’ing, and gradually transferring the narrative onto the drum kit and off again to return to the oral delivery, he had the audience in the palm of his hands and laughing continuously. Genius. (For another number, Petter was up dancing behind Nic while continuing to provide a full range of percussion with a tiny hand-held steel shaker thingie. It was amazing what he could produce with it and the fun he had doing so was written all over his face and flowing from his body.)

Sean Og’s solo number started off less flamboyantly, but through digital layering & delays he quickly built up something really magical and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better he was  joined by the others on stage to take the piece even further … and it blew my mind.

Caoimhín was delighted that four became five for a while, as by happy coincidence one of his most favourite musicians ever, Dan Trueman, American hardanger fiddle player, composer, physicist (etc. etc. etc.), had just arrived in Dublin for a year and Caoimhín asked him to join them for a few pieces. More thrills for us and for the guys on stage too: it was apparent throughout how much they were enjoying themselves up there and loving each other’s musicianship.

So thanks are due to Caoimhín and to the Fringe organisers for enabling this international “happening” to take place in Dublin, bringing such wild and wonderful creativity to the stage for only the price of a main course. (It’d be great to get this performance into a bigger, fully seated venue with unobstructed views etc.)

Apologies for the quality of the shots – no tripod was possible.

Review of Andy Irvine’s new CD, Abocurragh

Siobhan Long in Irish Times reviews Andy Irvine’s new CD, Abocurragh (purchase here >>>): “Liam O’Flynn and Dónal Lunny weave richly arranged skeins of light through Irvine’s eclectic song choices, and Máirtín O’Connor adds the subtlest of patterns on box… Although the arrangements on The Close Shave shimmy and slide on the back of Irvine, Lunny and O’Connor’s lithe playing, lyrically it lurches through a tale predictable in its denouement and plodding in its wordsmithery. Oslo is equally rich musically, with Annebjørg Lien’s hardanger fiddles conjuring a lost week in Norway, but it falters on the pedantic nature of its lyric.” (Times) >>>

Dervish celebrated in NCH

Last night’s fun was front row seats at the Dervish tribute in the National Concert Hall. There were times when you’d wish for maybe a different venue for such an earthy, no-nonsense group to really be themselves, but it was a very special occasion and there were very distinguished guests to be presented so it worked out perfectly in the end.

From their very first set, walking on stage casually without fuss or fanfare, Cathy Jordon, Liam Kelly, Shane Mitchell, Brian McDonagh, Tom Morrow and Michael Holmes looked totally in their element, so excited to be performing with so many of “their heroes”, as Cathy put it.

First up were Dennis Cahill & Martin Hayes, and they did a kind of whistle-stop showcase of their blissed-out musical journey together. Nirvana so early in the night might have been a problem (as in, hard act to follow), but it wasn’t. Cathy joined them for a song before the rest of Dervish returned on stage and roused us up with some hand-clapping, thigh-flapping stuff.

Next up were Moya Brennan & Cormac de Barra of Clannad. Although it’s an overdone song, their Down By the Sally Gardens was a delight. They were on stage for much of the night, and it was a pity that at times Cormac’s harp was inaudible as he really looked like he was giving it his all to get it to fit in.

Cathy was brilliant on the link-ups, a laugh a minute almost. Her singing was let down a bit at first by the sound system, in my opinion (at least so close to the stage, it was) and her natural-voiced upper-range (“blasht”) singing sometimes overpowered the microphone. But it was just perfect when she slipped up into falsetto sweetness too, and I’m a big fan of her sudden drops into throaty drone for the lower notes. I like her (intentional) flat enunciation style too, which on the night was in sharp contrast to Moya’s clear, fine delivery. I’m also fond of Cathy’s elaborate hand movements and limb swaying while singing – they display a way to respond bodily to airs to match the more obvious way we tap, clap & flap to dance tunes. Her trippy dancing would not be out of place on a club dance floor filled with teenagers, and I like that fact. She’s also a furiously fast bodhran player, of course, with a lovely fondness for the rim & variety of beats. (She has a curious habit of turning her dowel tipper around in her hands and glancing at it from different angles while she listens to the other musicians and waits to pick up the drum. She seems to be so at home while on display, you’d wonder does it in fact come about with great effort!)

Tríona Ní Dhomhnaill was exquisite, Do you love an apple? in particular. But it was Damien (“Diva”) Dempsey doing Rainy Night in Soho that most made me think a “happening” was happening. It was pure, self-indulgent, dreamy romance to sit there & let it flow over you. Other guests were Canadian dancer Nathan Pilatzke (last seen at The Chieftains concert in Barretstown) and Swedish nyckelharpa virtuoso, Olov Johansson. There were encores, standing ovations, and generally a lot of happy people enjoying themselves on stage and off.

It took a lot of vision and hard-work to develop this concert, I’d say, and I don’t know who in the National Concert Hall it was that led the charge, but well done to all involved! A great idea, brilliantly executed & well received.

Sublime sounds, sacred space

Mick describing and Caoimhin demostrating the complexities of the Hardanger fiddle

I was lucky (& bold) enough, some might say blessed, to attend a mostly private concert in Maynooth last night (in St Mary’s church put on for delegates at a European Association of Social Anthropologists conference): featuring Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh and Mick O’Brien up first lifted by the dancing of Sibéal Davitt; followed by Eithne Ní Chatháin with Seán Óg on clarinets & Cormac O’Brien on double bass. Sublime music. Eithne’s declared her enthusiasm for playing with “these guys” and it was reflected in a superb performance.

Caoimhín and Mick’s set included tunes from Peadar Ó Riada, their Canon Goodman set, and a tune by Michael Tubridy who was in the audience and once taught Caoimhín. When they both play tin whistle together, their register slipping makes two sound, at times, like three. A beautiful fragile thing, it is. Bird song-like. The fiddle-uilleann pipe relationship gives them more sonic ground and they always make the most of it, digging around in the tunes in search of riches: the past, somethings new and of each other.

Eithne included sean nós and contemporary songs, some of her own, some learned from singers in her adopted home of Dingle and some from other writers (‘Curra Road’ by Ger Wolf). My favourite was the closing Mo Bhuachaill Cael-Dubh. It was transporting. With the jazz influences coming through the clarinet & double bass, and the sophisticated approach to arrangement, this ensemble is exploring exciting new territory through traditional song. It is not about the singer, ever; but about the songs, their delivery, and their exploration through the instrument that is her voice. It is the definition of sublime (bringing Stina Nordenstam to mind at times for me).

The setting in St Mary’s church on the NUI Maynooth campus was perfect, Sibéal Davitt in particular putting the flagstones to great use with her steps during a couple of tunes. The whole thing, including a few warm-up pieces on the harp by Michelle Mulcahy, was put together for the European Association of Social Anthropologists by Enda O’ Catháin.

Martin Hayes & Dennis Cahill at National Library

In an unusual juxtaposition the National Library, as part of their Yeats season, had Gavin Friday on stage with Martin Hayes & Dennis Cahill interpreting Yeats poems. Friday read in-between (and over) tunes and airs from Hayes & Cahill. It was unusual, and would have been great if Gavin Friday hadn’t let the side down a bit.

Friday needed more rehearsal & creative direction to match the soaring effects of Hayes-Cahill. He fumbled a bit; and really should have memorised the poems instead of working off print-outs.

The skilled, hard-earned craftsmanship of Hayes-Cahill was never going to be in doubt; and while Friday impressed at first with his attempt to “give voice to the inner voice” of a poet, as if from the inside, almost whispering the verses; he Friday wasn’t up to it on the night, in my opinion. He wasn’t rehearsed enough; he should have done without print-outs of the poems as he occasionally struggled to keep the pace he set going while reading; he hadn’t bothered getting the pronunciation of certain place names right, and fumbled the odd line. In contrast, Hayes & Cahill were totally in control of and at home with what they were doing. Ultimately, it’s just a pity the words of the poems weren’t shown the same respect that the notes of the tunes were.

Téada’s new album reviewed in Times

Ceol Cuimhne/Music Memory, Téada’s new album gets four stars in Irish Times review (by Siobhan Long) >> http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/theticket/2010/0219/1224264732224.html