Sessions

Baltimore Fiddle Fair

Posted on May 13, 2015 by singersong

Baltimore lies in the very southwest corner of Ireland in one of the most beautiful parts of Ireland – West Cork. It is a very pretty town nestled on a protected harbour with a strong maritime heritage. Very popular with the yachty set but for one weekend a year the sound of clinking gins-and-tonic is replaced by fiddles and pipes. That is the Baltimore Fiddle Fair and that’s where I headed for the last Festival of my first year in Ireland, which is rapidly coming to a close. And a fitting way to end the year it was.

Four days of music centred on the fiddle and covering many genres. We heard Old Timey, Cape Breton, Bluegrass, Swedish, Gypsy Swing, Scots and a variety of traditional Irish. There were fiddlers of the class of Gerry O’Connor, Zoe Conway, Liam O’Connor, Danny Diamond, Dermot McLaughlin and Shane Cook. The core of the festival was the concerts though I have to admit I only attended one, so I can’t really comment on them but the one I did attend was a show stopper. Warmed up by the fiddle and pipes of Liam O’Connor and Sean McKeown the crowd was blown away by Swedish superband Väsen. I had never heard of them (shame on me) but I know them now. Slick and professional and as tight a sound as you will ever hear, with five string viola, nyckelharpa and guitar combining effortlessly. This music was a revelation with its dynamic range and variations in tempo and rhythm. I was truly ‘polskafied’.

I attended five workshops. A big stretch but I was able to get exposure to Donegal style, Old Timey and Cape Breton as well as picking the brains of Gerry O’Connor and Zoe Conway. I never tire of these workshops. Every time I learn something.

But of course as always it was the sessions that kept me occupied. Every day from around 1 pm there was continuous music in the venues around the Square and in the evenings, after the concerts, Casey’s Hotel raged with as many as four sessions until at least 4am every night. There were visitors from all over the world and I met some wonderful new people including John from Wales, Patrizia and Angelica from Austria, Julie from Denmark, who is cycling around Ireland (https://www.facebook.com/TourdeFolk), Liam from Queensland, Kathleen from Boston, Larry from Tipp, the delightful, Joleen, Karen and Lorna who make up the Henry Girls from Donegal and caught up with old friends again such as Trish from Dublin, Clare from Cork and Aina from France.

You meet all kinds at a festival such as this and for me that is what makes travelling to them worthwhile. Every evening, we were joined at Casey’s by Jeremy Irons. Self-effacing and just happy to sit in on the edges of the session and find his way in and out of tunes. Clearly revelling in the craic and a world that is a long way from Hollywood.

And I had the great pleasure to meet renowned Danish artist Claus Havemann. I chatted to him outside Bushes Bar as he stood there having a cigarette and staring across to Sherkin Island where he has had a home for thirty years and spends his time when not in Denmark. He told me of his journey in art over the last forty years which took him from Surrealism to Realism to Modernism to Minimalism to his current works which reinterpret the masters. He told me that he once painted a picture during his Minimalist period called ‘Yellow’ which was essentially dozens of layers of blue paint. The title made perfect sense to me when he explained that yellow is opposite blue on the colour wheel. I have included a couple of his paintings. I especially like the Velazquez ‘copy’, one of a series in which he paints in the style of the master but puts in modern references such as a Picasso and Miro on the wall and his interpretiaon of the Vermeer as a portrait of his daughter. See more at http://www.claushavemann.com/

Speaking of Sherkin Island, one of the highlights of the Festival was a session at the Island Rest Hotel. Sherkin is only a few minutes by boat and has about 90 residents. I met many of them that night as they lapped up the seriously good music from the visiting musicians shipped over (literally) for the event. There were some great contributions from locals also including songs and some impromptu dancing from Mary and her artist friends. I have never been to a session where I was picked up and delivered back by boat and the memory of this one will stay a long time.

I was intrigued by the Algiers Bar where I also played, having spent quite a bit of time in Algeria during my geology days. Turns out this pays homage to the notorious event in 1631 known as the Sack of Baltimore when Barbary pirates (comprising Dutch, Algerians and Ottomans) attacked Baltimore and captured 108 English settlers who were transported back to North Africa as slaves. Funny how we think of slavery in terms of Africans being sent to the new world, but in the century from 1580 to 1680 there were up to a million Europeans taken as part of the Barbary slave trade. Baltimore was abandoned and the village deserted for generations.

The face of the festival is Declan McCarthy. It was his brainwave back in 1992 and he is still running it. And what a trooper he is. Everything (well nearly everything) ran smoothly. The venues, the workshops and the support of the town. Hat’s off to him! Speaking of the venues some of the workshops were held at the magnificent stately home Inish Beg and at the famous Glebe Gardens. Along with the church, sailing club and a specially erected marque they really got it right with, of course, the fabulous location. And unlike many other festivals where you’re lucky if you can buy a bucket of chips there were great food options with the Glebe Café a standout.

I was absolutely shattered at the end of this week. Workshops every morning and some afternoons, sessions all day and surviving on just a few hours sleep. To fiddle a bit with the words of Richard Thompson in Beeswing “you wouldn’t want it any other way”.

Categories: Concerts, Festivals, Sessions, The Fiddle, Trad Irish Music | Tags: Algiers, Baltimore, Baltimore Fiddle Fair, Barbary, concert, Cork, Festival, fiddle, Glebe Gardens, Ireland, Irish music, music, photography, session, Sessions, Sherkin Island, traditional music, travel, West Cork | 3 Comments

Super Sunday

Posted on May 4, 2015 by singersong

What a Sunday.

After a very late night at the Cuckoo Fleadh in Kinvara in Galway I was slow to get started but discovered the perfect antidote at Byrnes Restaurant in Ennistymon. Yvonne Casey and Jon O’Connell. This was as close to pure as you could hope for. It was a sublime combination of music and place. Outside after the night’s heavy rain the Ennistymon falls were gushing. Inside a fiddle and guitar melted together in the hands of two world class players. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t all Irish. At times the small but appreciative audience were mesmerised. I came away enervated but and itching to play.

So off to Kinvara again for the Cuckoo Fleadh. There were sessions everywhere by the time I arrived. The highlight for the day was a session with Brid Harper and eight fiddles. At least until the noise from the local lads became too much. Hope I dont offend anyone but I am a fiddler, and for a change to hear eight of them with only a whistle, flute and concertina was heaven. Great to catch up for tunes with with Moya and Sandra in the back bar of Connollys and with Bridge and Siofra. On top of 11 hours of music the previous day (including a madcap session with Andrew MacNamara and Eileen O’Brien and meeting and playing with Eilish O’Connor again, after 33 years!) I was well satisfied

Then off for a session at the Blacksticks Pub at O’Callaghan’s Mills. It lies somewhere between Feakle and Tulla and is one of those rare gems of pubs. It only has music on holiday Sundays and the session in the kitchen, led by Pat O’Connor and John Canny and attended by locals from Feakle and Tulla was a real little window into East Clare. I will talk more about this in another place but I got home at 3.30am, after pretty much circumnavigating Clare, tired and satisfied.

Categories: Festivals, Sessions, Trad Irish Music | Tags: Blacksticks, Byrne's Restaurant, Clare, Cuckoo Fleadh, Ennistymon, Feakle, Festival, fiddle, Galway, Ireland, Irish music, Jon O'Connell, Kinvara, music, O'Callaghan's Mills, photography, Sessions, traditional music, travel, Tulla, Yvonne Casey | Leave a comment

Off to Offaly. What’s it Offer Me?

Posted on April 15, 2015 by singersong

The Midlands of Ireland gets a bad rap. It comprises the counties of Laois, Longford, Offaly and Westmeath. Major towns are Athlone, Mullingar and Tullamore. The whole Midlands is unfairly seen as a cultural backwater, dreary and nothing but boring bog land. Author and Irish Times columnist Michael Viney has described the Midlands as “a wearily protracted obstacle between Dublin and the west … a slow ticking-off of dull little towns on a lot of flattish land drained by sluggish rivers”.

At the invitation of a friend, Christina, who owns a B&B in Kinnitty, Co. Offaly. I spent a few days seeing for myself.

And I say this characterisation is unfair. Yes there is plenty of bog land but in my four days, mainly in Offaly, I found music every night, discovered the Slieve Bloom Mountains, enjoyed a fine meal at Castle Kinnitty, absorbed the Georgian architecture in Birr and walked through a sculpture park in Lough Boora. I met plenty of lovely people as I have everywhere in Ireland. Offaly had plenty to offer me!

I stayed at beautiful Ardmore House. This elegant grand house, now a B&B, was built in 1840 by the Bernards who lived in the nearby Kinnity Castle. More on that later. It was used as a doctors’ surgery and residence until the 1970s. It had various owners after that and was bought in a run-down state over 20 years ago by Christina who has restored it in a labour of love. Set in lovely formal grounds and with huge bedrooms fitted with period furniture. There is a wonderful ambience about the place and views from every window over the rolling hills on the edge of town and beyond to the Slieve Blooms. http://www.kinnitty.com/about.html.

This was my base from which to explore Offaly. And I didn’t have to go far. Across the road near the Church is a stone pyramid, a mausoleum for members of the Bernard Family. It was built in 1834 and houses the remains of six people including one bitten by a rabid dog. The stone work is wonderful with blocks laid at an angle to get the pyramid shape. The mortar pattern is etched through the steel door which gives a great senses of unity. The last internment was in 1905.

Ardmore House, Kinnity

Elegant Georgian architecture. Ardmore House, Kinnity

Bernard’s Pyramid, Kinnitty.

Bernard’s Pyramid, Kinnitty

Anyway I digress. The main reason I came of course was to play music. Wednesday nights sees a regular session in this part of the county. It is led by the talented Kinsella family and rotates between four pubs in surrounding villages. This night saw the music at Bergin’s at Killoyn (pronunced ‘Killine’). Other nights are at the Slieve Bloom in Kinnitty, Burton’s at Ballybritt and Dempsey’s at Cadamstown.

This is one of those sessions that exists soley for the community. The pub was packed with regulars who were there just for the music. If there are tourists then they either come by accident or they are directed here by their hosts. I am told that on other nights this pub is nearly empty. This is a clear sign that the music is strong here and that people are into it. While the quality of the music may be better in Clare you can’t argue with the enthusiastic way it is played and the reception it receives. There were about fifteen musicians of all ages but as the night wore on many more singers were coaxed from the crowd. The tunes were well led by gifted box player Padraig Kinsella, and members of his family. It is worth commenting here that the perception that Offaly is a backwater is belied by its successes in the All Ireland Fleadhs. Players from Offaly including Padraig have won the All Ireland for button accordion eleven times, significantly more than from any other county. I certainly didn’t appreciate this. There was a lot of singing but no shortage of tunes and even after most of the musicians had packed up soon after midnight more singers came out of the crowd and we left at 2am with the session still in full swing.

As my readers would know I attempt to play music every night. So when we discovered there was a session in Eugene Kelly’s on Thursday off we went. What I had forgotten, until I got there, was that this was the first place I had played music in Ireland, when I had arrived in May 2014. I remembered meeting concertina player, Aoife Greene (another All Ireland winner) there that night and she was here again. She recognised me even though I now have a beard and long hair. Some great tunes followed and plenty of songs though the session was somewhat throttled by one member of the audience who insisted on sitting in the circle and making her presence well and truly felt. Though in fairness she could sing.

On the last night Christina had organised a house session at Ardmore. Some of the musicians who I had met at Bergin’s were there and others, friends of Christina, had come from as far away as Westport in Mayo as well as some locals. It was a privilege to be part of this. Great tunes and songs, excellent food, fine whiskey and a turf fire. Only thing missing was some dancing and you could have been at a house session a hundred years ago.

In between these sessions I got out and about. The weather was stunning. Clear blue skies and around 18 degrees. County Offaly has the earliest evidence of human habitation in Ireland dating from 6500 BC at Lough Boora just down the road. There would have been lakes there then, long since turned into bogs and subsequently mined out by Bord na Móna (the company created in 1946 to exploit bogs mainly in the Midlands) Here at Lough Boora however it is now returned to lakes and a nature reserve. I visited there and took a short walk was through a sculpture park. All the installations were inspired by the unique land and the bog and its history of mining. I was very impressed. Great opportunity for some photos a little different from what I was used to. I really enjoyed trying my hand at something different.

There was also the Slieve Bloom Mountain range. More low hills actually but there were expansive views of the countryside . It is renowned as the birthplace and early home of legendary Finn MacCool but I was more taken with the forests of pine and beech, just breaking out with the spring growth. It was at that wonderful point where the trees still have that winter nakedness but there is a tinge of bright green from the new shoots.

Kinnitty Castle has had a chequered history. It’s current predicament is at least as bad as anything it has faced since the site was first settled. It is worth relating briefly as reflects a lot of the story of Ireland.

The site was known to be an ancient druid ceremonial ground; it was a monastery in the 6^th century with links to Clonmacnoise along with which it was a major learning centre in Europe at the time. It was raided by the Vikings and then rebuilt by the Normans with a castle and Abbey. It became the stronghold of the O’Carrolls around the 11^th Century through to the 17^th century. A new castle was built by the O’Carrolls in 1630 and confiscated by the English in 1641. In 1664 it was granted to an English officer Thomas Winter. It was sold by the Winter family to the Bernards family in 1764 and became known as Castle Bernard. The current look of the castle was a result of work commissioned in 1811. The work was carried out by the Pain Brothers who built Dromoland and is a wonderful example of neo gothic architecture.

In 1922, the Castle was burned down by the Republican forces. Rebuilt in 1928 by the Bernard family who lived there until 1946 when it was sold to Lord Decies who in turn sold it to the State in 1951. It became run down but was purchased by the Ryan family in 1994 and renovated and transformed into a luxurious 37 bedroom hotel.

The castle was forced into receivership by the KBC Ireland Bank and despite a number of attempts to sell it is still being run by the receivers as a going concern. It is popular for weddings, understandably, and I have to say the steak was delicious. The hotel is full of amazing period furniture, most of it huge and befitting the grand proportions of the house. The bank seized all this along with the hotel but the Ryans claim that the effects are their own personal assets. It is all very messy with legal action and accusations flying everywhere and as of now you could buy this special castle for a mere seven million euros and make the bank go away.

The English heritage is apparent in nearby Birr also. Birr also has a magnificent castle which is the family home of the current Earle of Rosse, but goes back to the O’Carrrols again who had one of their castles there in the 15^th Century. In 1620 it was granted to a Sir Laurence Parsons in the course of the Stuart plantation, c. 1620. Sir Laurence Parsons built most of the structure of the present castle. But this was not the main attraction for me.

The town is well regarded for the excellence of the preservation of the Georgian architecture. A walk down the main thoroughfare of Emmett Street (formerly Cumberland Street) and the Oxmantown Mall and St John’s Mall give ample evidence of this. I was taken with the elegance of the buildings and the unity of streetscape which was a defining characteristic of Georgian city planning There were simple family homes and there were clearly more ornate, but still conforming to the same simple elegant ethos, homes of the wealthy. I loved the arched door treatments, the fanlights above the doors, the beautifully proportioned multi-paned windows and some of the less noticeable details such as the cast iron gate handles.

I was walking down Oxmantown Mall photographing the front of a blue doored two story mansion when the owner came out. We got chatting and retired vet, Sam Glendinning took me through the archway which accessed the back and showed me his formal walled garden. He was in the process of renewing it as it had become overgrown but there was enough to see what a marvelous space it was. A magnolia in flower was a feature with a central lawn and garden beds and trees around the boundary. It was so quite; not a noise though we were right in the middle of town. I was entranced. Sam said it may be for sale if he could convince his wife to move into something smaller but he wouldn’t name a price. Out of my league I would think.

Other claims to fame of this town are the largest telescope in the world built by the then Earl of Rosse in 1845. (Why build a telescope in Ireland where there averages up to 225 days of rain a year?), the world’s first auto fatality when Mary Wood was thrown out of the steam car she was a passenger in as it rounded a corner on Cumberland Street and an Australian connection where Dame Nellie Melba sang from the balcony of Hotel Dooley, an event remembered today with Melba’s Nightclub

I left Offaly on the Saturday and as if to say goodbye the weather broke. I enjoyed my time there and thanks Christina for your hospitality. It didn’t take long though and Saturday night I was back in the swing of things with tunes at Friels in Miltown with Yvonne Casey, Josephine Marsh and John Joe Tuttle.

Categories: My Journey, Sessions, Trad Irish Music | Tags: Ardmore, Birr, bog land, bogs, Bord Mona, Georgian architecture, Ireland, Irish music, Kinnitty, Kinnitty Castle, Lord Rosse, Lough Boora, Midlands, music, Offaly, photography, sculpture, Sessions, Slieve Bloom, traditional music, travel, Tullamore | 6 Comments

Jim O’ the Mills, Upperchurch, 1916 and Other Things.

Posted on April 8, 2015 by singersong

I first heard of this pub during the Russell weekend in Doolin last month. ‘Jim O’ the Mills’. Well that’s not strictly true. In fact I recall being told during my first week in Ennis back in May 2014 about a pub that only opens sometimes in a remote village in North Tipperary. It had slipped my mind until Cáit Ryan, whose father happens to be Jim of ‘Jim of the Mills’ told me about it. I determined to visit it at the next opportunity.

So on the Thursday before Easter I headed out there. As it happens the pub only opens on Thursdays so given that the next day was a holiday a big night was expected. Although only less than two hours’ drive from home I figured I would stay in a B&B as I didn’t fancy a long drive back in the small hours, but the nearest with spare rooms was at Nenagh about 45 minutes away. This turned out to be the best B&B I have come across in Ireland but more on that another time.

I really had no idea where the pub was so I got to the village of Upperchurch before dark to give myself a better chance of finding it. The regulation three pubs were all closed but I eventually found a man wandering the deserted streets (or should I say ‘street’) who gave the very clear directions of “turn left and left again and you can’t miss it”. He was right. But I needn’t have worried because when I returned an hour and a half later the parked cars on the main road well and truly gave it away.

Jim O’ the Mills, Upperchurch, Tipperary

With some time to kill I went back to Upperchurch and by this time Paddy Kinnane’s pub was open. I stepped into a dimly lit empty room and a request for food was met with “I don’t think so you have to order ahead“ from the young lass behind the bar. A little nonplussed (who plans the day before to go to Upperchurch?) but I was rescued by the manager, Jim Butler, who after checking with the kitchen told me “You can have steak or salmon.” Salmon it was, washed down with a Guinness, and it was quite magnificent. With beautiful fresh vegetables. The pub was a genuine traditional Irish Pub. Nothing ‘Plastic Paddy’ here – this was ‘Stone and Wood Paddy’. By the time I had finished my meal there were four punters at the bar. I was amused, this being Easter Thursday, that they managed to keep up a conversation for about fifteen minutes about the Mass which had just finished. Only Ireland! The walls were adorned with photographs and memorabilia with more than a Republican slant. Jim who was married to Paddy Kinnane’s sister, proceeded to fill me in on Upperchurch’s role in the 1916 Rebellion and the subsequent Civil War, and Paddy in particular. This prompted me to do a bit of research of my own so if you’ll bear with me I’ll divert for a while.

Paddy Kinnane’s Pub, Upperchurch

Paddy Kinnane’s.

Dinner, Paddy Kinnane’s

Paddy Kinnane’s

The eponymous Paddy O’Cuinneain (Paddy Kinnane) who opened the Pub in 1927 had joined the Irish Volunteers at the age of 22 in 1914 but this had disbanded soon after. Following the Rising in Easter 1916 he was involved on the fringes eventually joining the Irish Republican Brotherhood. He saw little action though but spent seven days in jail for refusing on principle to pay a fine of 2/6 for not having a light on his bicycle at night. He saw this as a political statement. Love it! In 1917, branches of the Gaelic League and Sinn Fein were formed in Upperchurch (the Upperchurch Volunteers). Paddy was involved in August 1917 in a raid on a hardware shop in Thurles where a hundredweight of explosives was captured. The company at this time had one rifle which Paddy had stolen from a British officer.

The Upperchurch Volunteers joined with some of the other local units to become the 3^rd Tipperary Brigade and Paddy became the Commandant in 1918. From 1919 he was a wanted man and went on the run and never slept at home until 1924. In 1919 he was involved in a plot to assassinate an Inspector of the Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC). In the 1920s he was involved in a number of failed attempts to destroy RIC barracks in particular at Drombane and Doon.

Jim Butler told me had been a hunger striker but I am not clear whether this was in the 1920s or later. People think Bobby Sands and 1981 when ‘Hunger Strike’ is mentioned, but it has been used a lot in Ireland historically to push a political point and in particular by the Republicans – for example 8,000 internees went on a hunger strike protesting their detention in 1923. He remained active after the war and he was a colleague of fellow republican Sean MacBride (who later won the Nobel Peace Prize) and they were both elected to the Dáil Éireann in 1947, Paddy representing Tipperary.

Quite a history. Here is a photo of Paddy with Sean which is hanging on the pub wall.

Paddy Kinnane and Sean MacBride

But it was time to visit Jim of the Mills. First the name – an obvious homage to Ned of the Hills. This is a famous Irish song celebrating Tipperary man Edmund O’Ryan who led a gang of bandits in the 17^th Century in the style of Robin Hood. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89amonn_an_Chnoic

It was explained to me by Jim Butler that because there are so many Ryans in this part of Tipperary they are all distinguished by nicknames. Ryan the Giant, Ryan Sean Og and of course Jim of the Mills.

I thought I had plenty of time. Irish sessions always start late don’t they? So I arrived at 9:30 and the place was already packed. Not what I expected at all. Outwardly there was no hint of activity (except for the cars). No sign saying Heineken or Guinness. No blackboard saying “Trad Music tonight”. It just looked like a family home. The Ryans have been living here since 1990 but the house dates back to 1800. From1815 it was used as a mill (Jim of the Mills!) But since 1982 there have been regular sessions here. Cáit Ryan told me it started with 5 or 6 people only.

On going through the red half door I walked into an Ireland that was of another time. Like Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris. But here it was for real. I turned left and into the room which is called the ‘kitchen’ because that’s what it once was, packed with musicians all lined up in chairs facing the enormous fire place. I was taken through to the new ’kitchen’ and immediately pounced upon and introduced to Kae Ryan, Jim’s wife and a host of others. I was offered a cup of tea, the first of about half a dozen during the night. There were only a few seats left back in the session room so I got my fiddle out, found a spot and was immediately swept up by the non-stop music. As if by way of welcome for me the first tunes were a set known as the “Upperchurch Polkas”. I’ll definitely have them learnt for next time. There were no stars here and no egos it was music from the heart. We heard a beautiful song from Ella Stapleton, who had just won a prestigious singing competition and from Bridie Ryan (yes another Ryan but not related), who seemed to be MC’ing and a host of others whose names I didn’t know or don’t remember. There were all ages playing and singing and I love that there were plenty of local songs as well as the old standards. I even got to sing an old favourite of mine ‘Jim Jones’.

A lovely touch was the plates of bread and black and white pudding which came out during the night and disappeared with alarming speed. Did some come just for the pudding?

I caught up during the night with Jim, the host who sings and plays fiddle, and met three of Cáit’s sisters, Greta, Roisin and Erin, all steeped in the music. There is another sister Aine who is an actor and playwright. I have been to hundreds of sessions in Ireland now. Perhaps 700, but this was truly a unique experience. It had the feel of a giant house party. We were in the Ryan family home, but for one night a week it becomes the centre of the world. Four rooms are taken over by music lovers and lovers of the craic. It was absolutely ‘chockers’ as we say back home. There were little sessions going on all over the place. In the new ‘kitchen’ I was treated to unaccompanied songs from a number of home grown talents including Jim himself and then there was another small room where I joined Cáit and her sister Greta and their friends in belting out songs and tunes. Some decidedly untraditional! The noise was deafening, but somehow it seemed right. Then there was the bar which was jammed. A trip to the toilet took ten minutes and you made lots of friends on the way!

I was told there would be heaps of tourists but the people I spoke to were all regulars and from neighbouring villages. Maybe the tourists haven’t reached the Midlands yet.

I left around 4am but Cáit told me that she finished up at 5:30 and the music was still going.

This is certainly not the place to go to if you want to play quiet tunes in the corner and maybe for many of the tradheads there would be too much singing but wow, for a taste of the real Irish craic and an unforgettable experience and to meet a genuine, warm, Irish family steeped in the local history and tradition and with music coming out of the walls you really must find your way to Upperchurch in North Tipperary on a Thursday.

Thanks Cáit for inviting me and to Jim and Kae and everyone else for making me feel so welcome. Special thanks to Greta for grabbing my camera and taking some amazing shots. See you all again for sure…….

Session at Jim O’ the Mills

Session at Jim O’ the Mills. Songs from all ages

Session at Jim O’ the Mills. Bridie Ryan.

Session at Jim O’ the Mills. Time for black pudding

Jim O’ the Mills. Ella Stapleton

Jim Ryan

In the kitchen at Jim O’ the Mills.

Me at Jim O’ the Mills getting into a song. Photo Greta Ryan

Jim O’ the Mills. Enjoying the craic.

Jim O’ the Mills. Cáit Ryan

Jim O’ the Mills. Me and Cáit Ryan. Photo Greta Ryan

Jim O’ the Mills. Photo Greta Ryan

Jim O’ the Mills. Jim Ryan

Jim O’ the Mills.

Categories: Real Ireland, Sessions, Trad Irish Music | Tags: 1916 Rising, Hunger Strike, Irish music, Irish Republican Brotherhood, Jim O the Mills, Jim of the Mills, Nenagh, Paddy Kinnane, Patrick Kinnane, photography, Ryan, Sean MacBride, session, Tipperary, traditional music, travel, Upperchurch | 8 Comments

St Patricks Day in Ennis. Fifty Shades of Green.

Posted on March 19, 2015 by singersong

My first St Patrick’s Day in Ireland.

It has always been something I have avoided in Oz. An excuse for all and sundry to parade themselves as being Irish (whether they are or not) fuelled by green beer and endless renditions of Wild Rover and the Fields of Athenry. Not always a pretty sight. And sessions on St Pats Day are non existent as every person who can hold a fiddle or accordion is gigging somewhere that night. So I was keen to find out what it was like back here.

St Patrick’s Day honours the death of St Patrick, patron saint of Ireland, in 461 and it is celebrated as a national holiday in Ireland and Northern Ireland and around the world by the Irish diaspora. It has moved from being a religious holiday to a day of secular celebration much to the chagrin of the church. I like this quote from Father Vincent Twomey who wrote in 2007, “It is time to reclaim St Patrick’s Day as a church festival without mindless alcohol-fuelled revelry” and concluded that “it is time to bring the piety and the fun together.” This plea seems to have fallen on deaf ears.

March 17^th was a glorious sunny day in Clare so I headed into Ennis. The place was decorated with bunting and flags in preparation for the Parade, which kicked off at 11.00. Parades are a big deal here and every town and village has one. Not as big as Dublin of course which is now supposedly beats that in New York but definitely not as small as the one in Dripsey in Co Cork (which celebrates the fact that it has the shortest parade in the world – 100 yards between the village’s two pubs).

They are often staggered so the limited number of brass bands and prime movers can rotate between the villages. Community groups and schools go to a lot of effort and there are prizes for the best float or display. And everyone dresses up, with green of course being the dominant colour. At least fifty shades of green. Somehow it’s not tacky as it tends to be in Australia. It is the Irish celebrating their Irishness. So I saw nothing incongruous in leprechaun beards and green wigs as I might have in Australia if worn by Australians.

The other thing that struck me as the Parade moved past me was that just as in Australia now, Ireland is a multi-layered society and a quick flick through the photos shows groups with a diversity of ethnic identities. There is a strong representation of support groups for people with special needs. It was quite a window into what is important to the people of Clare. The whole thing is very much a family day and this spilled over into the pubs and restaurants with family groups continuing the celebrations as others geared up for a big night.

I had heard there would be tunes all day at Cruises so at 1:00 I joined Eric and Hugh Healy with Brian O’Loughlin and Catherine for some great tunes. Energetic and fast – great fun. Accompanied as we were by a young lad who practiced his dance steps continuously for well over two hours! Gradually the families left the pub and by 4 pm there was a change in musicians to Eoin O’Neill and Quentin Cooper and friends. The pub was rapidly filling up but at 6:00 I decided to head back to Friels at Miltown Malbay where there was a session in full swing when I arrived with with Damien O’Reilly, Caoilfhionn Ni Fhrighil, Eamonn O’Riordan, Brian Mooney and Thiery Masur . The pub was packed like I haven’t seen it since Willie Week and there was plently to like about the music. At 8.30 it wound up and my next stop was Liscannor where Ennis band Los Paddys de las Pampas were playing at Egans. I have to say I had never heard them before and wasn’t sure what to expect – Ireland meets South America? But with talent like Adam Shapiro and Kirsten Allstaff involved it had to be good. And what a great night. The music was surprisingly infectious and even a boring old fart like me was up on the dance floor bopping along. There were some great cameos from Clara Buettler and two flamenco dancing sisters (can’t remember their names) and then Lenka Hoffmanova took to the floor looking resplendent in her dress of orange white and green. Flamenco meets sean nos! Great stuff!

Now that was how St Patricks Day should be celebrated.

Categories: Real Ireland, Sessions, Trad Irish Music | Tags: celebration, Cruises, diaspora, Dublin, Ennis, Friels, Ireland, Irish music, Liscannor, Miltown Malbay, Northern Ireland, Parade, photography, Saint Patrick, session, Sessions, St Patrick's Day, traditional music, travel | 4 Comments

Scoil Cheoil an Earraigh, Ballyferriter, Co Kerry

Posted on February 26, 2015 by singersong

I have just returned from another festival/school, this time at Ballyferriter on the Dingle Peninsular in West Kerry. And it really was a beauty. It is called the Scoil Cheoil an Earraigh which translates slightly optimistically as Spring Music School.

The Dingle version of Spring involved rain, hail, mist and wild winds whipping up the Atlantic, but in the warmth of one of the many sessions you didn’t notice. Ballyferriter is almost the classic Irish village, with mandatory three pubs, hotel, church and shop. What sets it apart is its glorious setting right at the western end of the peninsular sandwiched between Slea Head and Mt Brandon . When the rain stopped as it did on a couple of occasions and the mist lifts, Mt Brandon, all 952 metres of it, stands proud with is snow capped peak and to the west the beaches and hills beckon. It is obvious why this area was chosen to film the seminal classic Ryan’s Daughter. It is also very compact so everything is within staggering distance and this is important when you are trying to find your way home at 6am.

Everyone said I would love Kerry and I do. This festival was a wonderful introduction to the Kingdom and the music. This blog is just about the Festival. I will post some pictures later of Dingle’s spectacular scenery.

The Scoil Cheoil Earraigh seems to hold a special place for many people. For some it is the only festival they attend. Of course there is a strong local contingent but there are also visitors from many other counties and from the UK, France, Russia, Germany. So what is it that brings them here?

It is not a huge festival and it benefits from this. It was very well organised with no obvious hitches. The workshops over three days were with top class tutors. How many opportunities would a guitarist have spend three days with Steve Cooney? Many of the tutors performed in a number of impressive concerts along with other headline acts. The stamp of the Begleys was everywhere. I’m not sure what the collective name for a lot of Begleys is – perhaps a boggle of Begleys but whatever it is it translates to pure musical genius. Along with Seamus and Breanndán with their vibrant and pulsating rhythms interspersed with wonderful soulful songs sung in Irish was Breanndán’s son Cormac displaying his virtuosity on a range of concertinas and other members of the extended Begley family popping up in various sessions. But it wasn’t just the Begley show. Other guests included Galway’s Páraic Mac Donnchadha on the banjo, Connie O’Connell renowned fiddler from Cork, Steve Cooney, back together in a big way with Seamus and adding his driving rhythms to a variety of other artists and in sessions, Harry Bradley , musician of the year last year, Tommy McCarthy a traveller singer with an extraordinary presence, and a huge repertoire of songs and fascinating stories and Brendan Powers from NZ master harmonica player across many genres stirring up the trad scene by utilising technology to take the music into uncharted territory. There were also informal concerts in cafes which was a great counterpoint to the frenetic energy of the sessions.

I just loved the way the whole festival was conducted in Irish. It didn’t seem to matter that you didn’t understand much of what was going on. This was West Kerry being West Kerry and while visitors were welcome it was very much a showcase for the unique heritage of this part of the world. This was reflected in the music which was of course riddled with polkas and slides, the spontaneous dancing of sets and half sets – vigorous and energetic, reflecting the music, the craic and the warm welcome all visitors received. I attended a lecture on the origins of polkas and while I didn’t understand a word I picked up enough from the slides and musical examples to be totally riveted.

The workshop was one of the best I have been to in the last year – and I have been to plenty. We had two tutors. Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh, well known for his many musical collaborations including more recently the Gloaming, who explored dynamics and how to extract more feeling. We didn’t learn a tune but it was a revelation. And young Aiden Connolly showed the group (exclusively adults) how to play polkas and slides – something that had never been explained so clearly to me before. I came away inspired which is what a good School should do.

There was a concert on Saturday, in the wonderful setting of St Vincent’s church, of all the workshop groups led by their tutors. This was the most successful format of any I have seen where similar things have been tried. Everyone played in their seat eliminating massive logistical problems. The highlight was the finale with all groups led by Breanndán Begley playing a stirring version of Fáinne Geal an Lae.

What to say about the sessions. These were numerous and exhausting. All the ‘stars’ who appeared at the concert joined into various sessions. Something that doesn’t always happen. Those who were at the Bar an Bhuailtin on Saturday night will never forget the musical treat provided by Begley, Cooney, O’Connell and a host of others until six in the morning, There was a session in Tig an t-Saorsaig with a contingent of musicians from Thurles where sets of reels lasted forty minutes without a break and another session at Tigh Ui Cháthain led by Cormac Begley on his bass concertina and Páraic Mac Donnchadha on banjo which must have gone for eleven hours and it would not surprise me if they didn’t repeat a tune in that time. Spellbinding. But for me the real highlights were playing in quiet sessions such as with Alph Duggan on the Thursday and with Fergal, Breige and Anja on the Sunday with hardly an audience just sharing tunes and songs.

As I say I have never played music in Kerry before so I should talk a little about my introduction to their music. While the Corca Dhuibhne (Dingle peninsular) is not part of the Sliabh Luachra, the more widely known home of polkas, the West Kerry Gaeltach has a long musical tradition and much in common. The music played here historically was for the West Kerry dance sets and comprised mainly polkas, slides and occasionally hornpipes. For many years this music was considered ‘foreign’ having been thought to have been brought in by the occupying military forces, but the Goodman collection of the late 19^th Century demonstrated a rich tradition which was largely ignored by collectors such as O’Neill and Breathnach. Polkas were among the first tunes I learnt many years ago when starting out on the fiddle. They were considered easy. And of course in Australia no one knew how to play them properly so they were pretty awful. I couldn’t play reels, so in my various bush bands we used polkas instead. We got away with it with the unsophisticated Aussie audiences but it was hardly satisfying. So I developed a dislike for them and it seems this is shared by many over here as well. Even in Clare you rarely hear them unless you’re playing with someone from that tradition such as Jacky Daly. Hearing these tunes however delivered by masters steeped in this tradition and on its home turf was a revelation. The tunes are full of an internal energy that drives the music forward all the time. They are infectious. The rhythm sucks you in and drags you onto the floor to dance. I wouldn’t say I have come away converted but I will take this body of music much more seriously and revisit those hackneyed tunes I rejected so many years ago. Thanks Ballyferriter.

I say well done to the organisers for a memorable experience. I understand the lure of this place and its music and I too will be back.

Categories: Festivals, Sessions, Trad Irish Music | Tags: Ballyferriter, Brendan Begley, Connie O’Connell, Dingle, Festival, Ireland, Irish music, Kerry, music, photography, polkas, School, Seamus Begley, Sessions, slides, steve cooney, traditional music, travel, West Kerry | 3 Comments

Brogan’s Bar Ennis

Posted on February 14, 2015 by singersong

On Saturday 14th February Brogan’s Bar in Ennis will change management. Over the last five decades it has been a go-to traditional music venue in this town and has achieved legendary status with Irish musicians all around the world. Two of it’s regular stalwarts, Eoin O’Neill and Quentin Cooper, had their last session there on Thursday. It was a wonderful celebration and a fitting farewell. I will have more to say on Brogan’s and what it meant to Ennis and traditional music in Clare and beyond in an upcoming blog and I will include a selection of my best photos from the last nine months, but in the meanwhile here are some images from that last magic night.

Categories: Sessions, Trad Irish Music | Tags: Brogan's, Clare, dancing, Ennis, Eoin O'Neill, Ireland, Irish music, Luka Bloom, music, photography, Quentin Cooper, session, Sessions, traditional music, travel | 2 Comments

St Stephens Night – my last session in Clare 2014

Posted on January 12, 2015 by singersong

Undaunted but exhausted after my adventures as a wren boy on St Stephens Day (check out my blog https://singersongblog.wordpress.com/2015/01/05/st-stephens-day-and-the-wren-boys/) I ended up that night at Danny Macs in Lahinch. The pub was crowded. There was a great mix of familiar faces and newcomers (at least to me) and a marvellously enthusiastic audience. The pictures tell the story but what a fabulous way to end the year, with this being my last session for 2014 in Clare, before heading off to the winter school in Gweedore.

Categories: Sessions, Trad Irish Music | Tags: Boxing Day, Clare, Danny Macs, Irish music, Lahinch, photography, Sessions, St Stephen, St Stephen's Day, traditional music, travel, Wren boys | 2 Comments

The Connemara Hills are alive with the Sound of Music (and Galway too)

Posted on December 20, 2014 by singersong

Last weekend I headed for Galway and Connemara. I had had a previous brief visit to Connemara when I attended the TraidPhicnic in Spiddal, but never Galway and I have to say I loved it.

The immediate reason was to attend a Master Class and House Concert by Maurice Lennon at Bridge Barker’s house deep in the wilds of remote Connemara. A great initiative from Bridge to open her house for this – hopefully the first of many.

The trip up from Clare was treacherous with my first experience of driving in sub-zero temperatures and on slippery roads. There was definitely no hurrying. I collected Maurice in Glaway on the way and became so engrossed in the conversation that we managed to end up on a detour along the shores of Lough Corib, that meant the trip took an extra hour. Once we got there the weather was kind enough, so that while Maurice took the kids’ class, I went for a short walk with Vince, Bridge’s partner. They live with their family in a stone cottage that, chameleon-like, blends into the rocky Connemara landscape. Bridge tells me it has been in her family for generations. They have turned a traditional stone cottage into a wonderfully warm and welcoming family home. Adjacent is an abandoned cottage, apparently formerly that of a tailor. It seems to have been empty for decades but still stands remarkably intact as a reminder of the hardship that must have been life in these parts. There was no road and customers would have to ride up the rocky ridges to be fitted. The house has a central room with a large fire place and a door on either side. One can imagine this was the kitchen and the centre of family life. Maybe even where music was played. On either side of this is what would have been the bedrooms each with a smaller fire. Relics of a tough existence are everywhere including bottles and empty containers, an old Singer sewing machine stand and empty and derelict hand crafted furniture. The roof is made of timbers nailed together and filled with bog material and then presumably covered in thatch but now corrugated iron. The windows small anyway are almost completely blocked with stone allowing only a tiny opening to minimise the ingress of rain and wind but making the house very dark. There were no windows on the western and southern sides speaking eloquently as to where the weather comes from. A marvellous window into a past world but not too far distant from the reality of living here now.

Nearby in the rocky bog-covered landscape was a delightful creek with water cascading over granite boulders and flowing through the brown tufts of grass, dotted with patches of bright green where richer glacial tills have provided more fertile ground. Numerous walled fields provide evidence of a much more intensive agriculture on the slopes of the barren hills.

This area was a renowned location for the manufacture of poteen, the famed liquor made traditionally from malted barley but later from corn or potatos. Poteen manufacture was and is of course illegal and so it prospered in remote areas like Connemara where unwelcome visitors could be seen coming for miles. It is said that from the top of the hill behind the house you could see someone coming from Oughterard, 20km away as the crow flies. Vince showed me an old still, one of four in the immediate area. These are used to build a turf fire and heat the wash for several days while guards stood watch ready to respond to anyone attracted by the smoke. The quality of the poteen was highly variable and it needed a fair bit of skill. A bad batch is said to cause blindness. I was given a taste by a fiddler friend when I visited Cork City recently, and I have to say it was terrific. Sure packed a punch though.

As the misty rain set in and hid the snow-capped hills in the distance we returned in time for me to join Maurice for the workshop. There were seven of us and it was a delight. Plenty of good advice on how to hold the bow and how to get a better sound and we learned a couple of Maurice’s own tunes in an intensive hour and a half. Then a quick trip to the nearest pub (about 20 minutes away) for a cleansing ale and some fresh air with Maurice. I don’t want to offend anyone who may come from this part of the world but you could hardly say we were welcomed, or if we were it was with suspicion. There was no small talk as the half dozen or so punters went about their business as If we weren’t there. Slightly uncomfortable.

Returning for some tunes and some curry we then settled in for a concert in the front room of Bridge’s house, in front of a roaring fire, comprising a couple of hours of solo fiddle and viola from Maurice. There was some inspired playing. We all joined in for a couple of sets at the end. Really a special night with the stone walls reflecting a brilliant sound. Those who travelled into the Connemara wilderness were well rewarded.

I was very kindly put up by Bridge and even before the scrambled eggs were put on the stove next morning I joined Bridge and her talented daughter Siofra in some tunes around the kitchen table. When Maurice arrived back from his lodgings he joined in. A true ‘kitchen session’.

I had decided to spend a couple of extra days in Galway and catch some of the sessions of which so many people had raved. So dragging ourselves away at lunch time I returned with Maurice who was also staying in Galway. There was a slight detour as I stopped every now and then for some photos and a further delay as we caught the second half of the Manchester United – Liverpool game (won by Man U) in a pub in Oughterrard.

Arriving late in the afternoon I went on a search for music. I ended up meeting fellow Aussie friend , Alice at Taaffe’s Bar where there is a 5:30 session every day. So civilised. Why don’t they do this in Ennis? This was the first of three sessions I attended that night and over the three days I was there I went to eight. There was a memorable session late on Sunday at the Old Forge where we were entertained among other things by a Santa-clad mini-skirted drag queen doing an Irish step dance with a packet of Tayto’s in one hand. Brilliant. It was great craic everywhere and hopefully the pictures give some idea of it. I met some wonderful people with as much passion for the music as I see in Ennis. Plenty of blow-ins who have made Galway home. As well as Alice from Oz, there is Ana from Brazil, Brandon from England, Anders from Netherlands, Patrick and Sean from San Francisco, and others from Spain, Germany and the odd Irishman. Lots of interaction too between the musicians and the punters, many of them tourists hearing Irish music for the first time and having a fabulous time. I was kindly invited to a great house session on Tuesday, led by Sean Flanagan, a box player, designed for intermediate players to learn and share tunes. Brilliant idea. I returned to Ennis renewed and inspired and vowing to visit Galway again soon. Thanks to everyone who made me feel so welcome.

The sun shone briefly on Monday and I took the opportunity to go for a drive through the magnificent Connemara hills to Clifden. Glorious. I will post some photos from these travels soon in another blog. The photos here are all from near Bridge’s house or in Galway City.

Distant snow, Connemara

Tailor’s cottage, Connemara

Tailor’s Cottage, Connemara

Inside Tailor’s Cottage, Connemara

Poteen still, Connemara

Cascade, Connemara

Barn, Connemara

Maurice Lennon, Fiddle Master Class, Connemara

Maurice Lennon Fiddle Master Class, Connemara

Maurice Lennon, Adult Fiddle Master Class, Connemara

Maurice Lennon, Adult students Fiddle Master Class, Connemara

Maurice Lennon, Kitchen session at Bridge Barker’s, Connemara

Maurice Lennon, Bridge Barker. Kitchen Session

Hungry sheep, Connemara

Session, Taaffe’s Pub, Galway

Session, Taaffe’s Pub, Galway. Sandra

Session, Taaffe’s Pub, Galway. Alice

Session, Taaffe’s Pub, Galway. Happy listeners

Session, Taaffe’s Pub, Galway

Session. Tig Coili, Galway

Session, Taaffe's Pub, Galway. Maurice Lennon

Session, Tig Coili, Galway. Maurice Lennon

Session, Tig Coili, Galway

Session, Old Forge Pub, Galway

Session, Old Forge Pub, Galway. Dancing Santa

Session, Garvey’s Pub Galway

Session, Garvey’s Pub, Galway

Visitors from Germany, Garvey’s Pub Galway

House Session, Galway

Another session at Taaffe’s Galway

Categories: Sessions, Stories, Trad Irish Music | Tags: Connemarra, Festival, fiddle, Galway, Ireland, Irish music, Master class, Maurice Lennon. House Concert, music, photography, Sessions, traditional music, travel | Leave a comment

The Session of the Summer

Posted on September 2, 2014 by singersong

Geraldine Cotter, Ronan Browne, Peadar O’Loughlin, Maeve Donnelly and Tony Linnane at Kelly’s in Ennis.

I have to share this story.

The other afternoon Graham and Niamh were having a Guinness at Kelly’s in Ennis and casually asked the barman if there were any tunes that night. He said he thought Peadar O’Loughlin was playing. Peadar is a legend of Irish music and well into his 80s and rarely plays in public now so Graham said I shouldn’t miss him even if just to listen. So I went along. What Graham didn’t know and the barman didn’t tell him was that it was a private function for Peadar’s 50th Wedding Anniversary.

When I got there, there was a gathering of about 10 musicians and they were in full flight as I walked in with my fiddle. There was a crowd seated and standing around them and all eyes turned in my direction. But as if they were waiting for me to arrive there was a vacant seat in the midst of the musicians. I was encouraged by the onlookers to sit there, even though they had no idea who I was. Intimidated, I just sat motionless, not wanting to attract attention, and listened, though when they launched into Craig’s Pipes I hesitatingly got my fiddle out and quietly joined in. I got talking to Nancy, who was sitting next to me and instantly recognised my Australian accent (a rarity as only about two in ten do!). She whispered in deferential tones the names of the musicians. Next to me were fiddlers Tony Linnane, and Maeve Donnelly, then Peadar also on fiddle, then piper Ronan Browne, then Geraldine Cotter on piano and Eamonn Cotter on flute, then another flute player, Jim O’Connor, and then two more pipers, whose names just faded away as my mind tried to digest the horsepower in this amazing gathering. One I later identified as Maire Ni Ghrada. The music was out of this world. Sweet combination of fiddles, flutes and pipes. Irish music – as it was meant to be. A truly magical experience.

This was the session of the summer for me and a memory I will treasure. I have only one photograph as my presence there was intrusion enough.

One day I fear I will wake up and find that all this is a dream.