Real Ireland

Sometimes it’s not the destination.

I love the Summer in Ireland.  Not because of the weather, obviously although as I write this 28 degrees is predicted for Drumshanbo and the Irish Met Office has issued a Yellow Weather Alert for the heat!  No, it’s Festival road trip time. From early June to the end of August I am hardly at home.  There’s Dungarvan in Waterford, Doolin Folk Festival, the Spiddal TraidPhicnic, Willie Week of course, Tubercurry, Drumshanbo, Achill, Glencolmcille Fiddle Week, Feakle Festival and the Fleadh.  At least this year the Fleadh is close to home in Ennis.  It’s an exhausting time but there is time for rest in there at places such as Achill.  I have attended classes in the past at all of these places but for now I just go to the odd workshop or find a quiet place for some tunes until the mayhem of the evenings.

But of course as I have said before sometimes the most enjoyable parts of Festivals are the this things that happen around them.  Including the journeys.

A case in point.  As Tubbercurry wound down I was inundated with requests for lifts from visitors wanting to go on to Drumshanbo.  I could have filled the car twice.  This year I found myself in the company of three delightful ladies.  Miki from Japan and Stephy from Switzerland, regular travellers to Ireland for the dancing  and tunes, and first timer Julia also from Switzerland.

I love their stories.  The passion for the music, their discovery of the Irish tradition in far away places and their pursuit of it in both their homelands and Ireland.  They become part of the Irish scene as they are welcomed back year after year to renew musical connections. 

So here I  was heading out of Tubercurry for what should have been a short one hour drive.  The price of travelling with me though is that you can expect a short one hour drive to be anything but. this time I had three willing partners.  We stopped at the old churchyard at Gurteen and at the impressive ruins of Boyle Abbey.  I managed to convince the attendant that the Japanese and Swiss girls were my daughters and he let us in on the Family ticket.  Of course he knew they weren’t.  The quiet ambience there was disturbed by the three girls performing a sean nos dance they had just learned to the strains of the Battle of Aughrim.  I dout if the Monks would have approved and we fully expected to be shut down but we were in fact welcomed by the Administration and patrons alike.    

This day was full of surprise as summer fleetingly arrived to provide blue skies as  a backdrop.  I’ve said it before and I never refuse an invitation and this time the day ended with us being joined by Satoshi from Japan at the end of a remote boreen near Carrick-on-Shannon at the house of one of Stephy’s dance friend’s for a magnificent three course banquet with, believe it or not, a choice of beef or fish for main followed by a house concert and session. 

And then normal transmission was resumed with tunes in one of the local pubs in Drumshanbo until 3 am.

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Categories: Festivals, My Journey, Real Ireland, Stories | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

The Music House Returns to Doolin

Though the pub session is now considered to be the customary gathering place for playing Irish traditional music it is actually a recent innovation.  Probably dating from the 50s and 60s when expatriate musicians gathered in London pubs to share the tunes they played back home.  Many returned home and the pub session took off in Ireland  and it became the centre of musical life.  Before this most music was played in the home.   Some houses would be well known as music houses and musicians, local and visitors, would gather there to share tunes or the kitchen table would be pushed aside and a set would be battered out on the slate floor.

Well known Doolin flute, whistle and spoons player, Christy Barry is trying to bring back this tradition by opening his house to guests to share his tunes and stories.  I was lucky enough to attend the one of these nights when Christy and his wife Sheila entertained 18 guests in his cosy living room and, with the help of some fiddler friends,  kept the crowd of mostly Americans enthralled for almost two hours and served some delicious local cheese, smoked salmon and a glass of wine.

Christy is a direct link to the Doolin of the 70s.  He personally knew and played  with all those whose portraits hung on his living room wall including Willie Clancy and the Russells.  And he spoke fondly of them.  Christy’s monologues between tunes could go anywhere and that is part of the charm of nights like this.  They are not scripted and you could go again on Monday and I am sure it would be very different.

The concept of the ‘house concert’ has become popular particularly in the States but also in Australia and I am sure elsewhere,  where a home owner brings an international performer into their home,  does all the organising  and the artist gets all the proceeds.  This is different.  This is Christy and Sheila sharing  their home with visitors  but the formula has all the signs of being a great success.  With initial recommendations through the B&B’s the numbers at this Good Friday event surprised Christy.  Perhaps the lack of alcohol anywhere else in Doolin (or the whole of Ireland for that matter) was a factor but I think the chance to hear Christy and friends play music and talk about his life, the people and the music was the main inducement and it will continue to draw people.

Christy was very generous in inviting people to join him for a song or dance and many stayed on afterwards to linger and chat.

It was a memorable night for those who were there and visitors to Doolin now have an alternative to packing into a noisy pub to hear Irish music. The intention is to do this three times a week, so if you are in Doolin during the Summer, check it out.

 

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Categories: Real Ireland, Sessions, Stories, Trad Irish Music, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

St Patrick’s Day, Miltown Malbay 2016

Last year I wrote about the St Patrick’s day parade in Ennis.  This year I decided to stay local and I’m glad I did.  This was the real St Patrick’s Day.  Not jam packed with ‘Irish-for -the-day’, green Guinness- hatted parodies that you see in Sydney or New York but this was the Irish celebrating their culture on their soil on their day.

OK, there were green beards and flags and the like but it was Irish men, women and children dressing up so that somehow seemed OK and less jingoistic than in Australia on Australia day when it is just an excuse to get drunk and carry on like a pork chop.

There was something real about it, perhaps it was the rural setting of Miltown Malbay closer to the ‘real’ Ireland than Dublin or even Ennis.  And boy did they go to a lot of trouble.  All the local schools had floats with the obvious theme of 1916. All were dressed in costumes of the day and re-enacting significant events.  There were farmers, soldiers, nurses, politicians and it was so good to see the kids and adults throw themselves into it with gusto. Oh and plenty of guns.   There were vintage cars and there was around a dozen bikes.  Now that’s something you wouldn’t see in Oz,  with the hysteria around bikie gangs, but they got a giant cheer as they roared their bikes in unison drowning out the tin whistles and mandolins.

A couple due to get married at the Armada, one hour after the start of the parade at 3pm, became part of the festivities.  It was great craic and I am sure gave plenty of memories to take back to the States.  I’ve included a few photos.  By the way I was told they flew over from New York with 100 friends for the weekend!

Did I mention there were guns?  And  tractors!  Many of the pubs had a float as did many of the local businesses, the GAA, and some of the community organisations.  And there was plenty of Irish trad accompanying them.  Most of the pubs had musicians, there was music on the ‘gig rig’,  there was the guitar school and the students from Brid O’Donoghue’s music school smartly dressed and proudly playing.  Brid herself leading a flock of youngsters ‘clothed-all -in-green-ho-ho’,   like a modern day Pied Piper.  There were set dances, a brush dance, two fabulous gymnasts and songs and recitations.  What more could you want?

The weather was kind as we basked in one of those rare sun-waves (four days in a row!), though chilly, at the end of it there was welcome warmth in Friel’s Pub where I joined in the session with the music of Aiden McMahon and Frances Cunningam playing to a packed throng.

The pub was already getting noisy and chaotic by the time I left after 7 so that was it for me.  Rather than join the festivities , which I have no doubt would stretch to the small hours I headed home, well satisfied, for an early night!

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Miltown Malbay waits for the parade to start

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Entertainment from the gig rig

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A bridal party stops the parade.  A couple of those groomsmen are a little nervous.

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It’s a long way from there (New York) to Clare

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This has to be better than the parade in New York

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Miltown’s Marvels?

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Guns, whistles and shamrock.

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Guns and guitars

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Rineen school brings the whole class, desks and all.

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Legs and shamrocks

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What would a St Patricks Day parade be without tractors?

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The Pied Piper

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Poor Willie

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Categories: Real Ireland, Sessions | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Surprising Belfast

I hadn’t planned to go to Belfast.  After the glorious weather at the Carlingford Festival in February 2015 (check blog here) I decided to head up to the Glens of Antrim in Northern Ireland but, as I travelled up the motorway, the mist set in and it seemed rather pointless, as I was hoping to do some photography, so I diverted into the city.  I had never been to Belfast.  On my first visit to Ireland in the mid-90s we had given Belfast a wide berth. Travel warnings and all it wasn’t considered safe then.

This time I drove into the city with no plans and virtually no knowledge.  I stopped at the first hotel I found, which happened to be Jurys and they had a special rate – not that much pricier than a B&B.  It was right in the centre of town and within walking distance of all the major attractions including the session bars.  So that was lucky.

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Before I had even entered the lobby of the hotel I became best friends with Bobby who it turned out runs a taxi guided tour and before I knew it I had agreed to go with him.  So without even finding my bearings I ended up in the back of the Belfast version of a London cab.  This turned out to be an inspired choice.  He called it a ‘political’ tour and despite his ‘green’ (as distinct from ‘orange’) credentials, which came through occasionally, it was presented in a dispassionate way with both sides of the argument presented as we visited both the Catholic and Protestant hot spots.  I learnt a lot, given that most of what I knew was picked up on Australian television via the ABC or BBC (and presumably ‘managed’ so not necessarily reflecting reality).  Even so I back then I had been detached from it and it is surprising how being there on Falls Road or seeing the Wall or the memorial garden or the segregated living areas puts it all in context.  Not being Irish I don’t think I will ever fully understand it but Bobby was able to give me a lot of the background.

We drove up Falls Road where the murals depict episodes important to the Republican struggle.  I got detailed explanations of each of these including the gassing of Long Kesh, the dirty protest which turned into the hunger strike at Maze Prison, the rights of  travellers,  The Titanic “built by Irishmen and sunk by an Englishman”, the killings at Ballymurphy, the Falls Road taxi killings, the Gibraltar Killings and the Milltown massacre.

There ar01-IMG_1803.JPGe also more recent murals depicting incidents or struggles that resonate with Republican sentiment. I heard about the shipyards which employed up to 35,000 people; all Protestants.  And the Linen Mills with separate gates for Catholic and Protestant workers

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We visited the Sinn Fein office in Sevastopol Street with the famed mural of Bobby Sands. He died in 1981 after 66 days on hunger strike and his story still causes rancour with many.  His legacy remains however and he is credited with inspiring a new generation to take up the Irish language, something that Sands and his fellow prisoners did in the tortuous conditions of H Block.

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Particularly moving also was a visit to the Clonard Martyrs Memorial Garden.  This is a very simple walled space located at the spot where the troubles really kicked off with the burning of catholic houses.  A few hanging pots and some benches in a paved area allow quiet contemplation. The names of victims of the Struggle are listed on plaques and there are images of some of the fallen. What struck me was the extraordinary youth of many of the dead.  Most in their 20s and 30s but some as young as 16.   The memorial is adjacent to the dividing wall which looms overhead and the houses backing up against the wall have cages which used to protect them against grenades and other objects lobbed over the fence before the Peace deal.

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On the protestant side I signed the Wall, along with thousands of others, with a felt pen thoughtfully provided by Bobby.  This seems to have become something of a ritual and names and messages from all over the world are dotted among the graffiti.

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We visited Shankill, an exclusively Protestant area  where I walked around the incredibly quiet streets.  Presumably everyone was at work or school but the place seemed deserted.  Murals on the end walls of rows of tenement houses are a feature and these depict events significant from the Union side.  There are recent murals celebrating individuals such as Stevie ‘Topgun’ McKeag who died in 2000 and is credited with a dozen killings, and William Bucky McCullough who became a martyr after being killed in an internal dispute in the UDA.

There is another celebrating the formation of the Ulster Defence Union in 1893 and the Ulster Defence Association in 1972.  For reasons unknown to me there is one depicting the Bloody Battle of 1809 in which Napoleon secured victory over the Austrians,  More obviously there is one remembering the founding of Belfast in 1609 and others celebrating legendary hero and defender of Ulster, Cuchulainn, and a somewhat gory depiction of the Red Hand of Ulster among many others.

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Houses here proudly fly the Union Jack.

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The tour was good value and highlighted to me the many injustices and the essential futility of it all.  The song ‘There were Roses’ was going around in my head.  It also made me reflect on the extraordinary achievement of Peace in Northern Ireland after so long.  The protracted negotiations through the 90s that led to the Good Friday Agreement in 1998, the subsequent massive endorsement at the referenda in both the North and the Republic,  the decommissioning of the IRA’s weapons in 2005 and the ultimate end of the Process with the elections of 2007.  Many however appear to hold on to their part in the Struggle.  There is massive progress but I think there is still a lot of work to be done with 93% of kids in Northern Ireland going to segregated Catholic or Protestant schools.

By now I had my bearings and in the evening I continued my unguided walk and found myself at the Crown.  A truly extraordinary bar.  I have seen nothing like it. It is owned now by the National Trust.  The bar was renovated in its current form in 1885 by Michael and Patrick Flanigan and then restored in 1980 and again in 2007. Things that drew my attention include the amazing tiled façade and stained glass windows, a massive granite topped bar with heated footrest, ten snugs with a bell system so ladies could call for their drinks without going out, plates to strike matches,  a mirror damaged by a bomb blast and since restored, a wonderful mosaic at the front door showing a crown (said to have been installed there so patrons could walk all over the crown!) and incredible carved woodwork finials, a magnificent ceiling.  I could go on and on.  Just marvellous.  I had a very enjoyable lamb shank pie there (and a Guinness of course) and indeed went back there for every meal.

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Opposite the Crown is the Europa Hotel.  During the Troubles it was damaged 33 times by IRA bombs including one massive explosion which wounded 20, punched a hole in the side of the adjacent Grand Opera House, shattered virtually every window in the Hotel and caused extensive damage over a wide area of the city center.

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The city itself is full of remarkable architecture and is great to just walk around and soak up.  Many of the buildings date from Victorian times and reflect the wealth brought to Belfast by the ship building and engineering industries and the linen and tobacco trades.  This includes the outrageously ostentatious City Hall built in 1906.  This building was considered more befitting of the City’s status than the previous modest building.  It cost £396,000 to build, an enormous sum, perhaps the equivalent of £150 million today. It was funded by two years’ profits from the City’s gasworks!

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I did not go inside; but having read about it later I have put that on the list for my next trip.  Many statues dot the gardens including a memorial to the Titanic which includes the names of all those lost.

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The City Hall lies at the end of Donegall Place one of the main thoroughfares, Along one side of this avenue are a series of sculptures of uniform design reminiscent of a sail, depicting the great ships built in Belfast.  Included of course is the Titanic, the largest ship ever built at the time and which was sunk on its maiden voyage in 1912.  It figures greatly in the psyche of the city and is a major attraction to visitors.

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Many other fine buildings grace the wide streets.  For the keen observer there are many delights to be had. Largely pedestrianized in its city centre it felt relaxed and uncrowded.  The people were chatty and friendly.  I ended up playing some tunes on a Romanian version of a Stroh viol offered to me by a busker.  My playing was well received and led to the crowd cajoling the busker to play some Irish stuff instead of Romanian folk tunes; good craic.

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Musically my experience was mixed. My timing wasn’t good and the session at Maddens on Monday was definitely not my cup of tea.  It reminded me of that Maori anthem of the 60s – ‘Ten Guitars’ because, no exaggeration, that’s what we had, along with a harp a couple of banjos and a fiddle.  It was all songs and while the craic was good it was not for me.  Then next night I heard it was ‘real’ trad at Errigle Inn, a little bit out of town. So a short taxi ride there and immediately I saw I wouldn’t be disappointed.  Great music, great craic and some familiar faces from my festival travels.  This went a long way to supporting what I had been told that Belfast had some of the best traditional music in Ireland at the moment.  It was fast and enthusiastic and inclusive; a fine way to end my short stay.

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When I visit a city I rarely go to the tourist hot spots.  I walk around and try and soak up the atmosphere.  So I can’t tell you about galleries, museums or the Titanic Experience.  I’m sure they are brilliant and there are plenty of places you can get that information. But I really enjoyed Belfast.  The rich history both old and very recent, the great architecture, surprisingly friendly people and most importantly for me, good music if you look, make it a top spot to visit.  I’ll certainly be back.

If you are of the same bent then you might be interested in the offerings of GPSmyCity (google it!) They have an app for IOS and Android that provides detailed city walks.   They have kindly offered to give away to my readers some prizes of a free download of one of these.  You choose.  No Belfast, but plenty of others to choose from.  A list of all the cities they have guides for is here  http://www.gpsmycity.com/user/static_sfg.html     Here’s what you have to do to win one of the promo codes (unfortunately Apple IOS only…sorry about that)

I am soon to set off on a road trip to discover parts of Ireland I’ve yet to see.  I’m looking for suggestions of places in Ireland that you think I should visit or that you would like to see me blog on.  Just respond in the comments to this blog.  That’s all.  One of the city app prizes to the first 20. Oh and don’t forget to nominate the city you wish to receive the free app for.

Take care in your travels.

Categories: My Journey, Real Ireland, Sessions, Trad Irish Music | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Ireland – The Next Chapter

I’ll start this blog with some good news. Those of you who follow me on Facebook will already know that my application to remain in Ireland has been accepted and I can stay another 12 months.  The wait has been interminable. Over four months without a word and without any response to enquiries.  Everyone I spoke to about it seemed to think that was pretty normal and that I just had to wait.  Meanwhile my visa had expired and my life was on hold.  My inability to prove residency and obtain an Irish driving licence led to refusal to re-insure my car and so for three months I have been unable to drive.  It will still be a couple of months before that is rectified.

I wonder why some countries make it so difficult for people to come and live.  I am sure Australia is just as bad with people wanting to reside there.  I just don’t get it though.  I am self-sufficient, I have met all the requirements, I accept that I can’t work or run a business but still I have to go through all these hoops and am met with a wall of silence when I try to find out what’s going on.  In Ireland, the hundreds of millions of people in the Eurozone can come and go as they please but the few thousand Aussies who want to make Ireland home (even for a short while)  find that to stay longer than 90 days is laced with any number of difficulties.   A country looking to recover from an economic catastrophe should be welcoming anyone who wants to come here and spend money.

Anyway I am undaunted because I am not ready to go home.  Over the next year I will explore ways of obtaining longer terms of residency to continue on my musical journey.  But Ireland has become much more than that to me.  It has etched its way into my being.  With a few exceptions, which I won’t dwell on, I have been welcomed here with open arms and open hearts.  It is such a contrast to the anonymity of Australian suburbia where you can live for years and never be recognised by your neighbours. Here I live in a small community and people take you as you are.  I am often greeted by strangers “with a warm and kind hello” as in the lyrics of the song “The Clogher Road”.  I have had many offers of lifts to do my shopping or get coal as people became aware of my predicament.  And in my cycles around West Clare I am often tooted with recognition or waved at by people who obviously know me even if I don’t recognise them.

And I feel part of the wider community also, throughout Clare and beyond.  Facebook and this blog have allowed me to keep in contact with the hundreds of people I have met through music in Ireland and around the world.  And to share my experiences and images.  I have received a terrific response to my posts and it seems to me that the Irish and followers of Irish music around the world love to read about and see what’s happening around the country.   Many of my overseas friends tell me they live a little vicariously through my blogs until they can actually get here themselves.

So I will continue to write and photograph.  I will of course play music.  Both in sessions and at home.  I can feel myself improving and want that to continue.  Perhaps I won’t go to sessions every night – I will speak about that in another blog.  I want to explore more of this country and as soon as I can drive I want to revisit some of my favourite places (such as Connemara, Aran Islands and Donegal,) and to find new favourite places, especially in the remotest parts of Ireland to discover the people and music there.

So please stay with me on my blog and follow me on the next stage of my journey…

Here are some of my favourite pictures from the past year or so, which may help you understand why I don’t want to go home.

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A stormy day near Spanish Point, Co Clare

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The last day at the old Brogan’s Pub in Ennis.

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Sunset at Caherush, Co Clare

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A peek into a session at Pepper’s Pub, Feakle, Co Clare

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My cottage in Clare

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Near Mullaghmore, Co Sligo

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The Burren bathed in golden light

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The magical Mount Errigal, Co Donegal.

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Irish Celebration. Music at the Heart of it.

Maybe I live in an unreal world but I went to two events in the past week which have highlighted for me the hugely important place traditional Irish music has at the centre of Irish culture and celebration.

One was a funeral and one was a birthday party.

For a birthday party fair enough, but you may think ‘celebration’ is a strange choice of word for a funeral.  Let me try and explain.

All of Ennis and the broader Clare and Irish Music communities were saddened by the untimely death of Dympna O’Sullivan.  A noted concertina player and stalwart of the Ennis music scene, I met her briefly and played in a couple of sessions with her last year.  You could not fail to like her and to be inspired by her playing.   I attended her funeral mass at Lissycasey on Sunday 22nd November.  I had not been to a Funeral in Ireland and, though I knew they were a big part of the Irish fabric, I was unsure what to expect.

What I saw when I arrived was a village choked with cars and the spacious church filled to capacity.  Family and friends included many musicians and many brought their instruments.    The traditional mass was interspersed with not-so-traditional traditional Irish Music.  And it made for a wonderful service at times moving and reverential and then stirring.  This brings me back to the ‘celebration’ word.  Yes it was truly a celebration of a wonderful joyous musical life and there was no incongruity in the long line of mourners queuing to pay respects to the relatives while friends and fellow musicians played spirited jigs and reels.  At least thirty musicians played in the packed church and their contribution made for a unique send off.  Later at the graveside a solo accordion player from the village played a haunting air which lingered in the cool crisp winter air.  I can’t think of a better way to remember a life.

The other event was a 60th birthday party for Christy Barry.   Christy is one of Ireland’s most respected flute and whistle players.  He spent much of his life in the States but for some time has lived back home in County Clare.  His birthday party filled the function room in Fitz’s bar in the Hotel Doolin with family coming from all round the world.  This was more than a birthday party though. The gathering was an excuse for a mighty session.  The word was out and upwards of forty musician friends of Christy’s turned up.  The music continued with hardly a break from around 8 until I left at 1.30 am.  Christy was at the centre of it driving many of the sets whether he was on the flute, whistle or spoons. At the same time he found the time to welcome and embrace every new arrival.  The session ebbed and flowed as musicians came and went.  One minute Christy was leading a set with half a dozen whistles and flutes.  Then the fiddles took over, including James Cullinan, Joe Rynne, Michael Kelleher and Paul Dooley, and then there was a duet with Christy and John King and then there were forty musicians belting out Lucy Campbell.  There were songs interspersed and of course some impromptu dancing.  This was true craic.  Christy also formally received his delayed Lifetime Achievement Award from the Doolin Folk Festival to rousing applause.  A well-deserved accolade.

As I said Irish music was at the centre of both events.  This was not a pub session or a concert  or something laid on for the tourists but this was real; an integral part of life and living.

I really don’t have the words this time to explain the connection adequately.  Maybe these photos from Fitz’s will help.  But you have to experience it to understand.

 

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Categories: My Journey, Real Ireland, Stories, Trad Irish Music | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Irish Sessions and the Hungarian Connection

As those who follow my blog, or keep up with me on Facebook, would know I go out to listen to or play Irish music every night.  I have missed a couple of nights in the past 18 months.  To some that might sound dull and one dimensional but so be it.  I have my regulars and favourite haunts and musicians I just love playing with and I try and get there every week.  Why, you ask?  Surely it would just be the same and get boring.  Well I’m here to tell you that that is what is so wonderful about sessions in Ireland.  Same musicians, same venue yes but totally different night each time.  The tunes are never the same, the session dynamics are different with different visiting musicians, and the  ambience is different with a different crowd.

An example.  Last night at the Cornerstone in Lahinch. The session was led by Yvonne Casey and Brid O’Gorman two local Clare musicians.  That is normally enough for me as I love the combination of fiddle and flute.  Eoin O’Neill on bouzouki was missing so immediately it was different.  Tonight there was no backing the tunes had to stand on their own.  On a personal note these kinds of sessions bring out the best in my playing.  There’s nowhere to hide. No offence meant Eoin!.  Brid’s sister (fiddle) and her son (concertina) joined us for a while and that was great.  Unfortunately another regular Severin had jammed her fingers and couldn’t play.  The boy sung a lovely song about a set of leaky bagpipes which brought the house down.  I sung a few songs to an attentive and appreciative audience. It was just a lovely session and normally that would have been enough. But you just never know what is around the corner in an Irish pub.

Sitting across from us and riveted all night were two couples.  After initially refusing an invitation from Yvonne to sing, during a pause in the proceedings, two of them suddenly burst into song in a strangely familiar language.  The man had a gorgeous trained baritone voice and the song was full of life and humour even though we didn’t understand a word,   It was fantastic.

We got chatting. It was in Hungarian.

I should say here that I am of Hungarian descent!  Judit and Gyula have been living in Dublin for seven years and were taking Hungarian friends Aliz and Tamas on a quick visit to the Cliffs of Moher.   We got on like a house on fire.  It was like meeting family.  Maybe we were.  Long distant cousins, who knows?  I’m sure I will meet them again.

Anyway that’s what Irish music does.  I see it all the time.  It brings the most unlikely people together.

Can’t wait for tomorrow night.

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Categories: Real Ireland, Sessions, Trad Irish Music | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

All Ireland Wren Boy Champions!

You don’t have to be in Ireland long to become aware of Kilkenny’s dominance of that uniquely Irish sport, hurling.  They have been All-Ireland Champions eight of the past ten years.  But you may not be aware of the dominance of one West Clare village, in recent times, of another quintessentially Irish pastime – the Wren Boys Competition.  That village is Cooraclare, 10 km from Kilrush on the south western tip of the County and they have just returned from the All Ireland Wren Boys Championship in Listowel, Kerry, where they have been crowned for the fifth year in a row.  OK, there was only one other team competing but this does not diminish the achievement.  You may not even be aware that there was a Wren Boys Competition I wasn’t.  But I am now and my participation in the 2015 team makes me a most unlikely All-Ireland champion.  Might have to rewrite my CV.

I have participated in a Wren Boys event before and I suggest you head to my blog for a bit more of the background.

https://singersongblog.wordpress.com/2015/01/05/st-stephens-day-and-the-wren-boys/

This story though for me started at the Crotty Galvin Festival weekend in August in the village of Moyasta.  I have also blogged on this recently.

https://singersongblog.wordpress.com/2015/09/19/crotty-galvin-weekend-moyasta-2015/

Here I met Grainne, one of the organisers, and she invited me along.  Clearly they were short of numbers to have countenanced such a thing but I never refuse an invitation despite in this case knowing absolutely nothing about it.  I was told to get myself to Cree and a bus will pick me up at 6pm on the Friday night and drop me back at 6am on Saturday morning. She assured me the craic would be mighty and that was all I needed to know.

A couple of weeks later I am sitting next to Joe Joe Marrinan on a bus headed to the Ferry at Kilimer (with forty others)  as he fills me in on some of the history.  The competition had been going in Listowel as part of the Harvest Fair for 57 years.  Cooraclare’s participation started forty years ago when local identitiy Denis Ledane decided it would be a good idea to take a team there.  Interest faded but in 2011 the tradition was revived after 35 years in honour of Joe Joe’s father Marty who died that year.  Joe Joe was installed into the prestigious role of King of the Wren.  In their first visit to Listowel they won and have not lost since and it is easy to see why.

On the surface it looks a bit ridiculous, dressing up in skirts, silly hats and bright colours and tinsel.  (at least there weren’t any bells and sticks a la Morris Dancers) but underneath it is a serious desire to preserve a fading Irish culture.  The competition involves each team putting on a 45 minute show incorporating music, singing, set dancing, step dancing, sean nos, storytelling all presented with humour and passion.  The team marched through the streets of Listowel, with turf fires burning atop hay forks, to a stage in the centre of the town square, to the strains of the Centenary March and from there on it was a celebration of all things West Clare.    Many songs told of West Clare including the eponymous Chapel Gates at Cooraclare (after which the team is named) and this little corner of Kerry certainly knew about the virtues of the Banner County by the end of the night.   A highlight was the finale with a lovely rendition of Feet of a Dancer leading in to a simply outstanding display of set dancing..  There were all ages participating with the dancing dominated by youngsters from villages dotted through West Clare, such as Moyasta, Kilrush, Cree, Mullagh as well as Cooraclare.  Many of them were All Ireland champions from the recent Fleadh in Sligo and it absolutely shone through.  There is no reason not to suppose that Cooraclare will continue to participate in and dominate the Wren Boys competition in the years to come judging by the enthusiasm with which everyone threw themselves into it..

A fantastic session at Foynes in Limerick on the way home and people had to be dragged back to the bus well after 2am.  The music continued on the bus with a rousing singing session and the night finished for most people well after 4am as they were dropped off into the West Clare night by our long suffering bus driver.

Thanks to Grainne and Joe Joe and Tony and everyone else for making me feel so welcome.  I felt privileged to be part of this tradition and I hope these few photos do it justice.

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Categories: Festivals, Real Ireland, Sessions, Stories, Trad Irish Music | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Spancil Hill Again.

It’s the 23rd of June again. That means Spancil Hill Fair.

The day didn’t start too well. Sometime during the night I stubbed my foot into a chair and dislocated my little toe. Pain! It had a 90 degree bend in it and I didn’t sleep that night. I figured I would limp through the day and seek treatment later.  The Show must go on.

But I didn’t count on the magic of the Fair. As I stepped onto the hallowed ground, dodging the horse pats, I was miraculously cured. The toe clicked back into place and the pain just disappeared instantly.

Should Spancil Hill become the new Knock? Conversion on the Road to Tulla?

Can’t believe it’s a year since I was here. I blogged on it then so I won’t repeat those thoughts here as they are still entirely apposite.

https://singersongblog.wordpress.com/2014/06/24/spancil-hill-it-being-the-23rd-of-june/

Yet last time it was such a novelty. Now I feel more part of it. I was with Miriam and Linda, woofers from Germany, staying with Pakie and Irene, who have a farm near Mullagh, and they are both horsey people so they gave me more of an insight into what was going on.

And what was going on was, literally, horse-trading. This is so much a part of so many lives still here in Ireland. There was much to take in. Traveller girls dressed to the nines, men with sticks, so many sticks (and when a horse bolted in my direction I understood why), horses of all types, ponies, donkeys, carts, puppies, traders selling pretty much everything, the three-card-trick, drinking, hamsters and chickens, and more horses. I watched deals done and the apparently haphazard system results in buyers and sellers coming away happy. People, young and old, just stand there in the field with their pony or horse and potential buyers look them over and, if they like it, agree a price and take their purchase away.  No spruiking or pressure.  Horse traders from Britain in particular arrive in droves, buy them up cheap and take them back to sell to riding schools or wherever.  It’s been thus for hundreds of years.

As the crowd thinned people gravitated to the Spancil Hill Inn where I was persuaded to sing. I sang half a dozen songs. That was a real buzz. Afterwards wind down sessions at the recently reopened Brogans and then Ennistymon on the way home. A day that started at 9am and finished at 1 am.

The Sunday before the Fair was a family fun day at Duggan’s Pub, with a donkey derby (bookmaker and all), tractor balancing, wellington boot throwing and musical chairs with donkeys and with bikes for the kids. You had to be there.

I decided to use black and white on many of these photos. Just thought it gives a more timeless aspect to the images.

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Categories: Real Ireland | Tags: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Doolin Folk Festival 2015. People.

A festival such as Doolin is obviously about the music. But it’s also about the people.

That people of all ages and from all parts of the planet, enjoyed themselves at Doolin is beyond question. What has been created here is an atmosphere where everyone can be part of the festival on their own terms.  Families, people who just want to listen, people who want to party.  All the little spaces around the marquee create that ambience.  You can curl up on the couch or sit around the fires or sit in the front row and hear and watch every note or just catch up with friends.  Or make new ones.  Or you can chat to the musicians that stay to listen.

When I wasn’t photographing musicians, I turned the camera in other directions. I think  I have caught some of these moments.

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Categories: Concerts, Festivals, Real Ireland, Trad Irish Music | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

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