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The Guardian
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘The soul of Irish traditional music': a musical journey through County Clare
A hilly lane curves round Bunratty Castle. Through an open window, I hear a harpist plucking notes at a banquet drifting as the sun sets low over the battlements. On the other side of the lane, smoke drifts from Durty Nelly's pub, where a singer is halfway through The Parting Glass. A short walk away, the limestone facade of the Creamery hints at its past lives – as a stagecoach stop, a dairy, a roadside inn. Tonight, it's a pub. Inside, Bríd O'Gorman plays the fluttering melody of The Cliffs of Moher on her flute, accompanied by Michael Landers on guitar – a quiet moment before the small crowd erupt into applause as Cian Lally pulls our pints. Just 10 minutes from Shannon airport, Bunratty village sits in the south-eastern corner of Ireland's most musical county. Along the bar, visitors from the US and France lean in, quietly captivated – likely having their first experience of an Irish music session. It's no coincidence that County Clare is the centre of Ireland's famous music scene. Clare is as close as any county comes to being an island. Hemmed in by the Atlantic on one side and the Shannon – the country's longest and widest river – on the other, it was, for centuries, a place almost adrift from the mainland. Until the 18th century, when bridges finally tethered it fully to the rest of the country, Clare was reached mostly by boat or by traversing the Burren's stony, unyielding landscape. That isolation also shaped Clare's culture. Beyond the reach of the capital, this corner of the west became a stronghold for language, music and tradition that flourished in the twilight on its own terms. You can feel that independence in villages along the coast, where the land abruptly falls into the sea at the Cliffs of Moher – or farther south, where Loop Head Peninsula stretches defiantly into the Atlantic, a windswept outpost that feels like the end of the world. Yet even within Clare, there are really two stories, as distinct as the landscapes from which they emerge. Draw a line from Bunratty, through the county town of Ennis, all the way to the northern tip of the county, and you'll see the divide. Locals speak not just of Clare, but of east Clare and west Clare – each with its own rhythm, character and musical soul. I catch Bríd as she packs away her flute, and the audience turn back to their conversations and pints. She knows this music intimately. A native of east Clare, she is a firm believer that the soul of Irish traditional music doesn't just echo through the well-trodden pubs of Gus O'Connor's or McGann's in west Clare's Doolin; it pulses quietly and powerfully through the hills, lakes, and tucked-away venues of the east. 'East Clare music has a character all of its own,' she tells me. 'It's known for being slow, expressive, understated – soulful, even. You hear it, and you can almost feel the landscape it comes from. The gentleness of the hills, the stillness of the lakes of east Clare – it's a stark contrast to the jagged landscapes of north and west Clare.' The east Clare landscape may have a soft lilt, but its voice carries enormous weight. The monastic ruins on Holy Island (Inis Cealtra) – a round tower and churches – lie just off Mountshannon on Lough Derg, often shrouded in mist. It's the final resting place of the great writer Edna O'Brien, a place where the sound of the breeze is carried through limestone walls with the same quiet dignity echoed in her prose. There's something about this part of Clare that holds on to the lyrical, whether it's in words or music. The land is lush and rolling, threaded with narrow roads and bright streams offering their own soft melody. At Quin Abbey, swallows call as they dart through the roofless cloisters, while in the pretty marina town of Killaloe, the cathedral bells mingle with the cry of gulls above the great lake. Like the land, the music isn't loud or dramatic, but quiet, confident, waiting for you to tune in. 'People often look north-west when they think of music in Clare – Doolin, Ennistymon, Miltown Malbay,' says Bríd. 'But east Clare is just as alive. You just need to know where to look.' One such place is Feakle, a single-street hillside village lost in east Clare's brilliant green landscape. It was once home to the famous herbalist and wise woman Biddy Early. However, it's a 19th-century singer, Johnny Patterson, who is commemorated with a plaque in the village square. At a fork in the road on the village approach stands Pepper's Bar, a distinctive yellow-and-green vernacular building that has served the community since 1810. Its compact main room features a homely fireplace, dance-worn flagstone floors and low-hanging beams. On a Wednesday evening, the space fills with the pulse of jigs and reels performed on fiddle, bodhrán, tin whistle or accordion. The music is sometimes frenzied, hypnotic, even mesmerising: complex arrangements often delivered by some of the country's finest players, including Martin Hayes, Liam O'Flynn, Matt Molloy, Sharon Shannon and Kevin Crawford. It's in these east Clare villages, such as Feakle, Tulla or Scarriff, that you might realise you're the only one in the room who doesn't play, sing or dance. On Thursday nights, Ger Shortt of Shortt's Bar in the heart of Feakle picks up the guitar, joined by a full musical accompaniment. Meanwhile, it seems as if anyone not playing is likely taking part in the Siege of Ennis, a céilí dance performed with spirited energy. Farther afield, Irish-language sessions are held at Gallagher's in Kilkishen, while occasional music nights at Gleeson's in Sixmilebridge also contribute to the rich musical tapestry of east Clare. Even the Honk Bar – hidden away on a bramble-filled lane near Shannon airport, not far from where Johnny Fean, one of the founding members of Celtic rock band Horslips, grew up – is known to host the occasional session. But eventually, all musical roads lead to Ennis. 'It's the heartbeat of Clare's music scene,' Bríd says. 'There's a session most nights at Ciarán's, Knox's, Cruises, the Diamond, the Poet's Corner in the Old Ground, Nora Culligans. And don't forget PJ Kelly's – it's a great spot too.' Not every tune is played in a pub. 'One of my favourite places to play is Glór in Ennis,' Bríd adds. 'We run an open session there once a month – myself and Eoin O'Neill on bouzouki. It's in the foyer, free to all, and open to musicians of every age and level. It's spacious, welcoming and it's been running for years. People love it.' Ennis's music scene is among the richest in Ireland, thanks to its deep pool of local talent, lively pub culture and a spirit that blurs the line between performer and audience. Mike Dennehy, owner of the red-and-black-fronted Knox's Pub on winding Abbey Street, says: 'Knox's has a wealth of musicians of various styles from all over Clare playing daily. We're known not just for the quality, but for our open sessions, with up to 20 musicians at once.' The roll call of regulars reads like a Who's Who of traditional music. Ennis is home to globally in-demand players such as uilleann piper Blackie O'Connell, accordionist Murty Ryan and banjoist Kieran Hehir. One of the scene's crown jewels is Piping Heaven, Piping Hell, a weekly uilleann piping session hosted by Blackie O'Connell. 'It started as an afternoon session,' says Mike, 'and has become a weekly gathering of pipers from all over the world.' Held in Ciarán's and Lucas's pubs, it features a guest piper joining the regulars for an afternoon of music, laughter and storytelling. Ennis also plays a key role on the festival circuit, hosting Fleadh Nua in May and the Ennis Trad Fest in November – events that have drawn legends such as Moving Hearts, Sharon Shannon, Andy Irvine and Lankum, and cemented the town's status as a musical capital. The west Clare scene is more relaxed, more immediate, the music blending with the conversation, and one tune flows easily into the next. Events such as the Russell festival in Doolin kick off the year in February, and by July, the Willie Clancy summer school transforms peaceful Miltown Malbay into a bustling, welcoming village of sound. It's where my own daughter, Síofradh, honed her harp skills in a chaotic makeshift class. That's the thing about Clare. Whether it's a gentle melody in Bunratty, a fireside session in east Clare or the lively pull of Doolin, the music – and the welcome – are always there. Bunratty Manor has doubles from €119 and singles from €109, room-only. Clare Eco Lodge in Feakle has doubles from €90 and singles from €50, room-only
Irish Times
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Fontaines DC at Guinness Storehouse: A match made in heaven
Fontaines DC are the biggest Irish band in the post-band era. Bands are too much trouble – members won't do what they are told and an anachronism in a world where music, as Bono remarks, is increasingly assembled and not created. That they exist at all in the current music landscape is a marvel, but they are a band that has progressed with each album and kept a multigenerational fan base. Fontaines DC in the grounds of Dublin city's most famous tourist attraction, the Guinness Storehouse, was a match made in marketing heaven. Last weekend's Lovely Days Live was a successful attempt to marry top-class music with promotional activities without the flak visited on the Arthur's Day shindigs a decade ago. READ MORE The Storehouse is 25 years old and looms over the concert venue in the old yard at the front gates. Tickets for this concert and Saturday's one by CMAT were subject to a ballot and were immediately sold out. Grian Chatten stomps around the stage and cajoles the crowd into singing along, not that they need an invitation. Photograph: Tom Honan As a music venue, it is not optimal. It feels hemmed in between old buildings, the ground slopes down from the stage making it difficult to see at the back. The organisers should include a big screen the next time – if there is a next time. Lead singer Grian Chatten stomps around the stage wearing a scarf and shades on a cool and gloomy evening. He prowls and scowls and cajoles the crowd into singing along, not that they need an invitation. 'Dublin in the rain is mine, a pregnant city with a Catholic mind,' he sings on Big. There was no rain thankfully, as there's no shelter. Fontaines DC are one of the many Irish acts exercised by what is happening in Gaza at present and the looming court case involving Kneecap's Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh, who performs as Mo Chara. There was no rain thankfully, as there's no shelter. Photograph: Tom Honan He was charged by UK police with a terrorism offence for allegedly displaying a flag in support of Hizbullah at a gig in London last November. He's due to appear in court in London on June 18th. Chatten dedicated their performance of Favourite to Kneecap manager Daniel Lambert, who is also the chief operating officer for Bohemians FC. The club brought out a Fontaines DC themed third strip last year that was very much in evidence on Sunday. 'Never be scared to talk about Palestine,' Chatten said, which was followed by a smattering of 'free Palestine' chants from the crowd. Later, he shouted, 'free Kneecap, free Palestine' as he walked offstage following the closing song Starburster. [ Workman's Club heyday: Where we rubbed shoulders with Paul Mescal, Fontaines DC and Morrissey Opens in new window ] Lankum's brand of soporific Celtic drone music needs a more intimate venue than this and it did not help that much of their gear never arrived from Stockholm. The band did, however, get animated about Gaza, as well. 'Genocide is for losers. If you do not call out genocide, you're an even f**king bigger loser,' came the cry from the stage. The muted cheers suggested most of those present were there for the music, not the politics. Conor Deegan of Fontaines DC. Photograph: Tom Honan Grian Chatten expressed support for Kneecap's Mo Chara. Photograph: Tom Honan
The National
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- The National
Why Kneecap aren't going to change their tune on Palestine
Irish band Kneecap took London's Oxford Street by storm last week, just hours after it was announced that one of their number faced terrorism charges in England for allegedly expressing support for Hezbollah and Hamas. Crossover recognition is something of a holy grail in the world of popular music. Think Beyonce and her country single last year. Kneecap have done this with politics, and it is a sign of the times both in their country and across the global sphere. To understand how a rap group that performs in the Irish language could have become a global ticket, I think you need to go back to what made them. First, the name of the name of the band is evocative of the Irish Troubles, the 30 years of terrorism that put British control of Northern Ireland on the global agenda. The Irish Republican Army (IRA) had a particular way of punishing its dissenters and that has been recycled in the name of the band. In that fight, there was a particular phenomenon of the tout – a person who informed on IRA activity to the security forces . There was an immense stigma within the community against the idea of someone selling out to the oppressor. The fate of those blamed for doing this was gun to the back of knee that blew off the kneecap. Thirty years later, it is now in the pop culture, though I would guess few of the tens of thousands that throng the bands venues have thought through what their name is about. The three members – Mo Chara, DJ Provai and Moglai Bap, whose real names are Liam Og O hAnnaidh, JJ O Dochartaigh and Naoise O Caireallain, respectively – saw their upbringings shaped by Gaelicisation of parts of the nationalist community in cities like Belfast. Indeed, Moglai Bap's father, Gearoid O Caireallain, was an activist for the cause of promoting the Irish language, particularly in the 1980s and 1990s. His death last year undoubtedly a major point of transition for the group. Irish President Michael D Higgins paid tribute to the loss of this 'major figure'. The cause goes on, and while Mo Chara has a court date of June 18 in Westminster Magistrates Court, the band continue to perform. After Oxford Street, it was Brockwell Park in south-east London. The festival crowd were given a defiant message: that the group's support for the Palestinian cause would not be bowed or broken by prosecution. Indeed, to the band the word prosecution is synonymous with persecution. 'We're being made an example of,' declared Mo Chara on the stage of the Wide Awake Festival. 'The Israeli lobbyists are trying to prove to other artists: 'If you speak out, we're going to hit you where it hurts most'. 'Believe me lads, I wish I didn't have to do this," he added. "But the world's not listening. The world needs to see solidarity of 20,000 people in a park in London chanting, 'Free, free Palestine!'" It is a message that the group has made no bones about since the latest conflict in Gaza erupted. From their perspective, the Gaza plight is a war of oppression every bit as grim and crushing as that waged on Ireland over centuries. Giving voice to the rejection of that onslaught is something natural and obvious for Kneecap. Steeped in violence and its consequences, Kneecap, as the name suggests, do not shy away from defiance. Having performed at the US festival Coachella and proclaimed Israel was committing genocide in Gaza with US backing, the group faced calls for a US visa ban. The television celebrity Sharon Osbourne led the calls to ban the group from the US for open support of terrorist organisations. In the UK, the profile of Kneecap has grown far beyond the subject matter of their material. They vigorously contest the allegations against them. The June 18 charge related to a performance in November, when Mo Chara allegedly displayed a flag in support of proscribed organisation Hezbollah. The group has apologised to the families of the murdered MPs David Amess and Jo Cox after another onstage snippet was discovered, in which one of the group declared: "The only good Tory is a dead Tory. Kill your local MP." Kneecap claim the clip has been exploited and weaponised against them. The court appearance next month is therefore just one more way station in the controversial career of Kneecap. Their essential point is that they are not responsible for the tens of thousands that have died in Gaza. Their radical views are a product of the culture and beliefs that formed them, and any type of establishment criticism or police action serves to reinforce their outlook. The image of the band is, in mainstream terms, defiant, and that chimes with festival goers who want to give expression to their outrage over the images they see of what is happening in Gaza. Elton John, another music luminary, commented the other day that it was unusual for a band to bring politics to the stage when he praised Kneecap. Terrorism charges have followed but Kneecap will continue to assert its politics. Politics is their lifeblood because of where they grew up and the people around them. Don't expect court appearances to make any difference to that singular fact.
