Posts Tagged With: Clare

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.

Categories: Sessions, Stories, Trad Irish Music | Tags: Clare, Ireland, Irish music, photography, Sessions, traditional music, travel | Leave a comment

100 Nights of Sessions – 100 photos!

Posted on August 31, 2014 by singersong

Traidphicnic. Spiddal 2014. “Will I know the next tune?” Siofra Barker

Tubbercurry 2014. Alistair Cassidy. For my next trick…….

Tubbercurry 2014. John Joe Kelly

Tubbercurry 2014. Flute session

Tubbercurry 2014. Paddy Ryan

Ennis 2014. Brogan’s. Yvonne Casey, Josephine Marsh and Fu Akamine.

Drumshanbo 2014. Keith from Wales.

Drumshanbo 2014. Albert from Barcelona

Drumshanbo 2014. Caroline from France

Drumshanbo 2014. Jose from Barcelona

Drumshanbo 2014.

Drumshanbo 2014. Concentration!

Drumshanbo 2014. The kids take over the High Street.

Achill Island 2014. Brendan Begley at the Valley House

Feakle 2014. Fiddles!

Feakle 2014. Pat O’Connor

Feakle 2014. Vincent Griffin

Feakle 2014. Maurice Lennon and Vincent Griffin

Tubbercurry 2014. Alistair Cassidy. Snap!

Willy Clancy Festival. Milltown Malbay 2014. Geraldine Cotter and Kieron Hanrahan.

Tubercurry 2014. Johnny Og Connolly and friends.

Feakle 2014. Yvonne Kane and Cormac Begley

Feakle 2014. Edel Fox, Yvonne Kane, Cormac Begley and friends

Feakle 2014. Joan Hanrahan and Dympna O’Sullivan.

Feakle 2014. Steve from England

Feakle 2014. Eileen O’Brien

Feakle 2014. Young Clare musicians

Feakle 2014. Eoghan O’Sullivan, Dennis Cahill.

Feakle 2014 Eileen O’Brien and Pat O’Connor

Feakle 2014. Thierry Masure

Feakle 2014. Antoin Mac Gabhann

Feakle 2014. Dennis Cahill

Feakle 2014

Sligo 2014. Irish music played by Spaniards in the Itailian Quarter. Jose and Montse.

Traidphicnic Spiddal. Tola Custy, Laoise Kelly and Mike McGoldrick.

Traidphicnic Spiddal 2014. Magic fingers. Mike McGoldrick

Tubbercurry 2014. Nicolle Figueroa Gallaga.

Tubbercurry 2014. Emmy and Veronika from Netherlands

Tubbercurry 2014. Rita from Switzerland

Willy Clancy Festival. Milltown Malbay 2014. Adam Shapiro

Willy Clancy Festival. Milltown Malbay 2014. Friels Hotel. Can’t compete with the World Cup and Brazil vs Germany.

Willy Clancy Festival. Milltown Malbay 2014. John Rynne,

Feakle 2014. Orla Harrington, Eileen O’Brien, Andrew MacNamara

Willy Clancy Festival. Milltown Malbay 2014. Enjoying the Craic

Traidphicnic Spiddal. Tola Custy

Feakle 2014 Seamus Begley at Peppers

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Sean Keane

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Laura Ugur and John Rynne

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014.

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Musician’s Corner

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Gerry Harrington demonstrating the Stroh Viol to James Kelly’s fiddle class

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Maurice Lennon and Sean Ryan

Tubbercurry 2014. The (virtual) reality of the modern session

Tubercurry 2014. Phillip Duffy

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Sean Ryan

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. The next generation.

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Adam Shapiro and Patricia Wang

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Busking in the Miltown sun

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Let there be light. And there was. And it shone upon the fiddler

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Fiddler

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Fu Akamine and Patricia Wang

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. The genesis of a session, Coore.

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Coore

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Liz Coleman

Traidphicnic, Spiddal. Florianne Blanke

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Sean Keane, John Joe Tuttle and friends

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Harry Bradley, Sean McKeown, Connie Connell.

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. The front bar at Friels. Gerard Callaghan, Rick Epping (in the mirror) Mick Creehan, Mick Hand

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Rick Epping, Mary Bergin, Mick Hand and Mick Creehan

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014.

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Kevin Rowsome

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Stefan, Dermie Diamond, Angela Creehan, Sinnead Nic Dhonnachadgh

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Pat Mullins, Macdaragh Mac Dhonnachadgh, Maurice Lennon, Sean Ryan

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. All boxed in at the Blondes.

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Lorraine O’Brien, Catherine McEvoy, a bemused Jackie Daly, Aoife Granville, Niall Kenny and Conal O’Grada. Revenge of the flutes.

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay, 2014. Crosses of Anagh. Alistair Cassidy and Daire Mulhern

Willie Calncy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014, Street Session with Leon Agnew, Antoin Mac Gabhann and Seamus Sands

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Frank Kelly and Leon Agnew

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Enjoying the craic at Friels. Niamh Parsons

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Antoin Mac Gabhann

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Seamus Sands

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Alistair Cassidy, Crosses of Anagh

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. In the sunshine at the Blondes. Ciarán Mac Aodhagáin, Siún Ní Ghlacáin, Damien O’Reilly

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. the Blondes.

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Niall Kenny and Caitlin Ni Ghabhann, John Flynn

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Caitlin Ni Gabbhan in the sunshine at Blondes

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Gilles Tabary on flute

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014.

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay 2014. Aine Ni Chellaigh, Josephine Boland and Declan Fay

Feakle 2014. Sorcha Costella, Brian Donnelly and Aisling Hunt.

Fleadh Cheoil Sligo 2014. Street buskers

Feakle 2014. Peppers – Half set dance to the music of Seamus Begley

Fleadh Cheoil. Sligo 2014. Seamus Tansey at Shoot the Crows

Fleadh Cheoil. Sligo 2014 Christina and Fiona from London

Achill. 2014.. Brendan Begley and Harry Bradley

Fleadh Cheoil Sligo 2014, Liam Kelly and Shane Mitchell, Martin McGinley at Riverside Hotel.

Willie Clancy Week. Miltown Malbay. My last free Willie

Willie Clancy Week, Miltown Malbay, Geraldine and Martha Clancy at Mullagh

Willie Clancy Week Miltown Malbay, 2014

Willie Clancy Week Miltown Malbay 2014. James Kelly

Recently I completed my 100^th continuous night of Sessions since I came to Ireland. Not something I set out to do but over the moon that it has panned out that way. Since I started at Tullamore on 15^th May and then Ennis three days later for the Fleadh Nua I have not missed a night of playing Irish music and have not felt like missing one. My hundredth night was just a lovely quiet way to ‘celebrate’ with Joan Hanrahan and friends at Kelly’s Bar in Ennis – a classic Irish Pub with a long pedigree of traditional sessions.

It would be impossible to estimate how many sessions I have participated in as on some days such as in Miltown or any of the other festival for that matter I might have played in half a dozen. Quality has been variable as you would expect but at every session I felt privileged to be there.

I have played with musicians both ‘famous’ and unheralded (but not necessarily less talented), with musicians from all over Ireland and almost every part of the globe, musicians from 8 years old to 88 and beginners and masters of the tradition. And not only players but lovers of the music who might have travelled from Cork or Canada or Sligo or Sweden to just sit and listen for hours. All brought together to share this wonderful secret we all have that is Irish music. Shhh! Don’t tell anyone.

I have been to eleven festivals so far including Doolin, Willie Week, Spiddal TraidPhicnic, Tulla, Clare Fleadh at Kilaloe, Tubercurry, Drumshanbo, Achill, Feakle and the Fleadh Cheoil at Sligo. I have been to Workshops and Summer Schools and had lessons from fiddlers such as Maurice Lennon, James Kelly, Paddy Ryan, Tola Custy, Siobhan Peoples, John Daly, Liam O’Connor, Martin Hayes, Eileen O’Brien, Yvonne Kane and Yvonne Casey. So if I still can’t play the fiddle after all that then I have only myself to blame.

Whether I will continue at this pace I don’t know but for me the journey is not over and while I get something from each session I go to I will keep going.

I have put together 100 photos to celebrate these 100 days. Some are amongst my favourite photos and others are of the many wonderful people I have met, but collectively I hope they give some feel for the mood and magic that is an Irish music session. Photos come from Miltown, Tubercurry, Drumshanbo, Spiddal, Achill and Feakle. I have included photos from sessions before Willlie Week in my earlier blogs. Where possible I have tried to identify everyone. Thanks Niamh and Graham for your help. If I have missed anyone my apologies and please let me know and I will edit the caption, and if I have spelt your name wrong, apologies again.

Thanks for the tunes!

Categories: Festivals, My Journey, Sessions, Trad Irish Music | Tags: Achill, Clare, Drumshanbo, Feakle, Festival, Fleadh, Ireland, Irish music, photography, Sessions, Sligo, traditional music, travel, Tubbercurry, Willie Clancy | 2 Comments

McArthur’s Bar Tulla

Posted on August 29, 2014 by singersong

I mentioned McArthur’s Bar in my recent blog on Tulla. I want to say a few more words on it. This place deserved to be in the late Peter McCarthy’s wonderful book McCarthy’s Bar even though he would have had to stretch the qualifications a bit (If you haven’t read this book it is a must; it is one of the best travel books written on Ireland). I saw the pub during the day and it looked to be just another abandoned building. A peek through the window failed to see any sign of life or even recent use and the weeds growing behind the front window did not look promising. But walking past it at midnight there was a glow of lights through the drawn shades and blurry shadows through the frosted window pane. And the door was just slightly ajar. A familiar murmur came from behind the door. The quiet hum you get from a pub pretending to be shut. I went through the door into the narrowest of rooms and it was jam-packed. With my fiddle on my back I could hardly squeeze through the door and then past the throng. I could hear music and I stood there momentarily until someone seeing my fiddle nodded his head towards the back saying “it’s in there”. I made my way through another narrow door into another crowded room. I couldn’t help but notice the floor as I walked up a distinct concrete slope. One can only imagine this being a huge advantage when they hose it out at the end of the day.

The music was getting louder as I reached the back room. It was coming from a bunch of kids most of whom looked under 15. By now it was midnight. Their parents were watching and lemonades in hand they were producing magic music. I felt like an intruder but was invited to sit in. It was as good a session as any I had been to in Ireland.

This experience showed to me a window into the ‘real’ Ireland. A country that has gone through centuries of struggle and subjugation, indeed attempts to eliminate the Irish music and language, was here thumbing its collective nose at petty authority that says children can’t be in a pub after 9pm. Wonderful.

I said in an earlier post that one needs to “go with the flow” in Ireland. After this experience I should add “if you see an open door go through it”.

McArthur’s Bar in Tulla

McArthur’s Bar in Tulla at Midnight.

Categories: Sessions, Stories, Trad Irish Music | Tags: Clare, Festival, Ireland, Irish music, music, pub, session, travel, Tulla | 1 Comment

The Burren, Again.

Posted on August 29, 2014 by singersong

The Burren in the north of Clare has an indefinable pull. I can’t stay away.

When Geraldine, schoolteacher friend, asked me if I wanted to accompany her and the kids from her school at Doora near Quin on a hike through the Burren, I was a bit unsure. Didn’t sound all that exciting but I have made it a rule not to say no to anything since I’ve been here. So I agreed. I’m really glad I did.

The day did not start out too promising. I met Geraldine after a couple of false starts at 11:00am and four carloads of kids from 5th and 6^th class with a handful of parents and teachers met at Crag Road, the start of our linear hike. We had hoped to use the National Park free bus service but times did not work so some cars were dropped over to Coolorta Cross, the end of the hike. By 11:45am we were on our way!

The weather was overcast but dry though rain was predicted (of course). The plan was to head up to Mullaghmore and then across to the next mountain (well they are technically hills) knows as Sliabh Rua. Wasting no time the kids headed out along the trail leaving me and a couple of stragglers in their wake. We caught up eventually (well I think they waited for me) and with barely time to catch my breath I found myself giving a talk on the unique geology that is the Burren. After a month in Clare I was an expert on the Burren geology. Well the kids thought so. Some of them were surprisingly up to speed while others hadn’t even stepped foot on the Burren before.

We continued the climb along the ridge beneath the first cliff and I kept stopping to look at the amazing fossils and rock formations and to take photographs so of course we got further behind. By this time I was left with just one boy who delayed me further as I stopped to answer the non stop stream of questions and comments about what he was seeing. It was great to see this unbridled curiosity and his eyes opening to what was around him. Eventually we rejoined the group.

As we were on a deadline and I was slowing them down, we agreed they would go ahead and I proceeded at my own pace. I was in awe of the scenery at the top. Limestone bands twisted into gentle folds ran in sinuous waves across the barren treeless landscape. With the dull light it had a mysterious mystical quality reinforced by the clarity of the eerie silence. Truly a breathtaking place. In the distance I could see the group had reached the top of Sliabh Rua and were now proceeding down so I followed the contours around the mountain and attempted to re-join them. Distances are deceptive up here. It was a fairly treacherous descent over boulders and scree formed from jagged limestone. Every foot had to be carefully placed so there was no rushing. I would stop often to breathe in the view. A new vista around every corner. I never did catch them and I arrived at the cars about half an hour after the rest. We were lucky. The rain had held off.

I was mightily impressed with the whole day. The kids behaved impeccably and were a credit to their school.

Once they had left, Geraldine wanted to show me more of the Burren, a place she clearly loves, so we headed along another track to a Holy Well. I had never seen one before. This was a natural spring coming out of the base of a moss covered rock. Nestled in a dark cool glade which felt as ancient as it probably was. It would not have surprised to see fairies darting about! There were cups hanging from a string inviting you to partake and there were ribbons hanging from nearby branches, perhaps some sort of offering. An elliptical walled area a few metres across was apparently an ancient bath which was used for ritual bathing. It takes a while to get one’s head around the fact that this place may have been used by our predecessors up to 5,000 years ago.

The magic of the place was having an effect. We walked back along the track to see a car driving up the lane. I did not recognise the occupants but Geraldine did. There was P.J. Curtis (the eminent writer/record producer/broadcaster/historian) and Maurice Lennon (fiddling legend from Stockton’s Wing). I was introduced to them and they couldn’t have been nicer. We ended up back in P.J.’s house in Kilnaboy (built in 1770, the year Cook landed in Australia) listening to Maurice play tunes from ‘Light in the Western Sky’ (one of my favourite albums) and then some gorgeous airs including one of his own on his Viola. I had to keep pinching myself. P.J. gave us a tour of his Forge which was full of original equipment. It was the conclusion to a wonderful day.

If you go with the flow in this extraordinary country then extraordinary things happen. 

Burren Limestone with fossil coral

Some of the wildlife in the Burren

Geometric patterns etched in the cliff face. The Burren

A large fossil coral colony. The Burren

On the way up to Mullaghmore

Pausing for a breather.

the view from the top

Heading across to Sliabh Rua

Spectacular landforms that make up the Burren

Twists and contortions in the limestone layers on Mullaghmore

One last cliff on the ascent of Sliabh Rua

Looking back from Mulalghmore

Gentle folds in limestone, Mullaghmore

Cairn, Mullaghmore, the Burren

The descent from Mullaghmore

Native orchard, the Burren

Limestone plain at the foot of Mullaghmore

Returned safely

Holy Well, the Burren

Moss covered walls of an ancient bath, Holy Well, the Burren

Glacial erratics, dumped at the end of the last ice age. The Burren

Meeting Maurice Lennon in the middle of nowhere

Mullaghmore. A distant view

PJ Curtis outside the Old Forge at Kilnaboy

Categories: Wild Ireland | Tags: Burren, Clare, Geology, Ireland, landscape, Mullaghmore, photography, travel | 6 Comments

Spancil Hill – “It being the 23rd of June”

Posted on June 24, 2014 by singersong

Yesterday I found myself at the Cross of Spancil Hill. I wasn’t dreaming and I wasn’t in California. Look all you like and you won’t see a Cross, which I always imagined in my mind’s eye as I sung the song that made the place famous. In Ireland, as I soon discovered, ‘crossroads’ are simply called a ‘cross’ and it just refers to this.

The Fair at the Cross of Spancil Hill was one of the most important in Ireland during the 1800s and was of course made famous by Michael Considine’s wonderful song which referred to above. It still is one of Ireland’s largest horse fairs. Have a listen to the full version sung by Robbie McMahon.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGKJDxjIFBc

Differs considerably to that made popular by the Dubliners.

It is like stepping back to an older Ireland way before the Celtic Tiger pounced and even before the motor car. A world of horses, donkeys and chickens, of blackthorn sticks and buggys. There are obvious changes of course with everyone seemingly on the end of a mobile phone and burgers and curry chips the standard fare at the Fair.

I had been warned by numerous people to watch out because of the travelling people but I didn’t have any problems. Not that I would recognise one from us ‘stationary’ people.

The original song has the following verse.
“It being on the twenty third of June, the day before the fair,
Sure Erin’s sons and daughters, they all assembled there.
The young, the old, the stout and the bold, they came to sport and kill,
What a curious combination, at the Fair of Spancilhill. “

There seems some confusion as to the date but the fair is always on the 23rd unless it is a Sunday in which case it is the next day. Hence the “day before the fair” as the song relates event that occurred on the sabbath.

I’ve attached some photos which I hope capture a bit of the “curious combination at the Fair of Spancilhill”.

Categories: Real Ireland | Tags: Clare, horse, Ireland, Irish music, photography, Spancil Hill, travel | 7 Comments

The Burren

Posted on June 20, 2014 by singersong

I just love the Burren – maybe even my favourite place on earth. It is a limestone plateau in the north west of Clare comprising an amazing and varied landscape with a unique scientific and cultural stamp that sets it apart from anywhere else. As a geologist in my former life I can appreciate the insight into geological process involved with limestone deposition and karst weathering that are usually not seen due to climatic and geological impediments or the impact of man. I won’t go into the detail here but it is worth chasing up on google as the geological history is fascinating (well to me anyway)

The Burren is a remarkable terrain and it is amazing how farmers eke out a living in such a place. I love the hostile beauty of its rocky pavements and the jagged cracks and crevices (grikes and clints) and where tiny plants hang on to a precarious existence. I love the intricate patterns (fluting and rinnenkarren) caused by the slightly acid water etching the exposed rock or the ripple marks caused by the lapping waters of an ancient sea, 320 million years ago or the trace fossils left on the sea floor by some antediluvian worm. It is hard not to be in awe of the power of the massive glacier that ripped off the overlying cover rocks and created this majestic landscape 10,000 years ago, evidenced by giant erratics deposited from the melted ice. I love the human heritage going back to Megalithic times 5,000 years ago wth the area dotted with tombs, dolmen, ring forts and other archaeological sites to the stone walls of today marking the boundary of one seemingly useless barren field from his neighbours.

I have been there three times so far on this trip and seen its various moods and I have no doubt I will go there many more times but I thought I would post some images that hopefully capture something of the place.

Poulnarbrone Dolmen. The Burren

Poulnarbrone Dolmen. The Burren. Clints and Grikes in the foreground

The Burren. Flowering plant

The Burren. Fine spiders web on flowering bush

Poulnarbrone Dolmen. The Burren

The Burren. Stone fence

The Burren. Flowering plant growing in grike.

Limestone pavement with clints and grikes.

Limestone pavement. The Burren

The Burren.

The Burren. Cottage near Mullaghmore.

The Burren. Stone fences.

The Burren. Fern growing in rinnenkarren near Fanore.

Driving into the Burren

The Burren

The Burren. Dry stone wall

The Burren. Looking towards Mullaghmore.

The Burren. Fern growing within rillenkarren.

Categories: Wild Ireland | Tags: Burren, Clare, Ireland, Irish music, photography, travel | 5 Comments

Humours of Ennistymon Revisited

Posted on June 17, 2014 by singersong

You might recall I posted last week on Ennistymon and the magical falls on the Inagh River. Well late yesterday evening I was coming home through Ennistymon again and noticed the scene had changed considerably. What a difference a week makes. Here is a before and after shot and a couple of other photos. It was really weird to see donkeys grazing in the Clare sunshine where last week was a raging torrent.

Categories: Wild Ireland | Tags: Clare, Ennistymon, Ireland, Irish music, travel | 1 Comment

Humours of Ennistymon

Posted on June 10, 2014 by singersong

Cascade on the Inagh River at Ennistynmon

The Inagh River at Ennistymon

Another view of cascades on the Inagh River at Ennistymon

The Inagh River and the Falls Hotel.

Reed beds on the Inagh River at Ennistymon

Detail from the wall of a stone bridge on the Inagh River at Ennistymon

Lonely foxglove in the forest near Ennistymon

Creek near Ennistymon

Creek near Ennistymon

Foam traces of swirls and eddies in the Inagh River Ennistymon, after heavy rain

Tranquil Inagh River just below the falls at Ennistymon

Another view of the Falls at Ennistymon

Here I am in the village of Ennistymon. Or is is Ennistimon? They can’t seem to make up their minds. Most of the shops including the Post Office (who you’d think would know) spell it with a ‘y’. Pretty much all the road signs spell it with an ‘i’. This confusion about spelling of the town names in Clare is everywhere. Is it Lahinch or Lehinch, Corrofin or Corofin, Ballyvaughan or Ballyvaghan. Maybe it’s all over Ireland and not just Clare. I don’t know. I’ll report back on this another time. Anyway I digress.

The Humours of Ennistymon is one of my favourite jigs and as I say I am here in Ennistymon. There seems to be some confusion about the definition of the ‘Humours’ common in numerous tune names referring to places. I like the definition that it relates to the ‘vibe’ of a place and in particular the waters as they refer to the medieval concept of ‘humours’ or fluids, the balance of which make up life. I spent a few hours yesterday experiencing the ‘vibe’ or the ‘Humours’ of Ennistymon.

Sisters and fiddle players, who live locally, Yvonne and Caroline Casey, both independently said I must do this walk. So when there was a sufficient break in the weather I headed for Ennistymon. There had been torrential rain earlier in the day so this meant there was plenty of water flowing in the Inagh River on the banks of which the pretty town is situated.

“Just head past the bridge, through the arch and past the Falls Hotel” so that’s what I did. I was rewarded with a lovely vista as the river cascaded over giant flat steps eroded from the interbedded sandstone and shale. I followed the trail through a dripping rainforest with moss covered banks, occasional giant trees, thick lush scrub (as we would call it), some of which I recognised such as holly and ivy (they do grow together as in the song), ferns, epiphytes and flowering plants such as daisies, buttercups, lilies and foxglove. The swirling waters generated a froth which when it hit the calmer water spread out and formed thin lines which traced the eddies and swirls in the now calm river. I have not seen this before. The river flowed gently past the Falls Hotel, a Resort and Spa Hotel built around a Georgian Mansion from the 1740s and run as an hotel since the 1930s. The forest opened out as the river entered a thick reed bed. I turned to follow a path up a tributary with its water bubbling over rocks from its source deep within the forest.

I spent hours experimenting with my Canon 5D looking for the perfect shot of, first the falls, and then the creek, taking care not to ignore the many photographic opportunities of the surrounding forest. Of course there is no such thing as the ‘perfect’ shot but I am happy enough with the results. I have attached some of what I think are my better shots. Hope you like them.

Categories: Wild Ireland | Tags: Clare, Ennistymon, Falls Hotel, Ireland, travel | Leave a comment

Loop Head Co Clare

Posted on June 4, 2014 by singersong

Dolphin at Loop Head

Loop Head

It was only by chance that I ended up here. Loop Head is the most westerly point of Clare and is not far from the town of Kilrush. I went to Kilrush one day last week (an hour away from Ennis) because the Internet said there was a session on Tuesday nights at Crotty’s. We always believe what we read on the Internet don’t we? Well when I enquired of the publican the response was “Oh that only happens in the Summer”. Apparently June does not count as Summer. “Anyway since you’ve come this far” he says “why don’t you go out to Loop Head”. So I did. There was light rain (what the locals here call mist) but not unpleasant. There was a light house but they charged to see that so I just explored the cliff edges and was rewarded with breeding colonies of seabirds, dolphins playing in the water around the precipitous cliffs, carpets of fluffy pink flowers, squishy bog like mosses and only the odd German tourist. Here are some photos I took. They don’t really do the place justice.

Categories: Wild Ireland | Tags: Clare, Dolphins, Ireland, Kilrush, Loop Head, Sessions | 1 Comment

Sessions Sessions Sessions!

Posted on June 2, 2014 by singersong

Session at The Diamond with Blackie O’Connell, Siobhan Peoples and Cyril O’Donoghue

Siobhan Peoples and Cyril O’Donoghue Fleadh Nua 2014

Blackie and Siobhan

Yvonne Casey and Josephine Marsh at Brogan’s Fleadh Nua

Siobhan Peoples and Tola Custy at Faffa’s. Final session at Fleadh Nua 2014

Yvonne Casey and Josephine Marsh

Mary and Scorcha

Session at Brogan’s with Tom Delaney and Eric Healy and friends

Session at the Old Ground with Mary MacNamara and her daughter Scorcha and Geraldine Cotter.

Blackie O’Connells pipes at the Diamond Bar Ennis

Session at THe Copper Jug Ennis with Andrew MacNamara and Tara Breen

The momentum of the Fleadh and the buzz around Ennis built as we approached the weekend. The crowds got bigger and the sessions got better. I went to 24 sessions during the 8 days and I can honestly say I didn’t go to one I didn’t enjoy.

The Fleadh Nua has been a terrific way to start my Ireland journey. I have been overwhelmed by the people and the music and it is everything I had expected or hoped for. I have played with most of Clare’s top musicians and others less heralded but just as good. I have met a lot of interesting people from Europe and the US (Hi Veronika and Holger, Thomas, Thierry, Sally Ann, Caroline, Kieran, Jessica) all with a singular passion for Irish music and all keen to learn more in their own individual way. I have been welcomed by most her who are happy to share the music. I have met some wonderful Irish people who drive from all over to listen to the music for the Fleadh. They are so knowledgeable and like it that you are interested. I have watched my fiddle playing grow. The nerves are still there when asked to start a tune but a week ago I never dreamed I would be playing alongside the likes of Siobhan Peoples, Tola Custy, Blackie O’Connell, Josephine Marsh, Mary MacNamara or Eamonn Cotter and holding my own. Or listening to some wonderful singing from Niamh Parsons and Noirin Lynch and many others. Or the impromptu dancing of the gorgeous Lenka. The variety of approaches to the music is incredible From the driving pipes and fiddle of Blackie and Siobhan to the gentle flowing pace of Mary Mac and Geraldine Cotter and the sweet tones of Yvonne Casey’s fiddle with Josephine’s exquisite box playing.

After this concentrated week the music is starting to get into my head. I am recognising tunes and playing along (well sort of) after a few hearings. Whether they stick is another matter but the process of learning by ear, something I have struggled with for many years is beginning to happen for me. What helps is that they play tunes here often five or six times, sometimes more. It is not until the third or fourth time that you can really feel the groove and the intensity builds and the music suddenly lifts. This is lost when the tune is only played twice. As Josephine said when I discussed this with her during a break after a particularly satisfying set “Why stop if you’re enjoying it?”

The way music is weaved in and out of the fabric of the culture in this part of the world is revealed every night and day. One strikes up a conversation and it soon gets to “you here for the Fleadh?” And they will proceed to tell you where the best music is.

The pleasure that musicians get playing with each other is obvious as is the respect that they seem to hold for each other. This is reflected in the multitude of different collaboration in the many different locations. For example I have seen Siobhan Peoples play with Murty Ryan, with Blackie O’Connell and Tola Custy at different times.

The Café sessions where the music is taken out of the pubs and away from the constant pub noise reveals its soul and demands undivided attention have been an unsung highlight.

I continue to be inspired.