t - Comhaltas Archive

door I could hear them playing a selection
of tunes together. Then suddenly, a
flute solo, "The Garden of Daisies" and I
recognised the player immediately and I
thought of a little girl with plaits and a
bony fifteen-year-old in socks.
The musicians crowded into my ward
and suddenly my heart turned over. She
stood out from them like ,a burning
flame , a glowing Christmas candle -
that coppery hair now gleaming shoulderlength;
her eyes closed as she concentrated
on her playing; long copper lashes
brushing a faint sprinkling of freckles
left over from the summer sun . Then they
finished and she opened her eyes and saw
me. "Johnny" she called and was over
like a flash, sitting on my bed, laughing,
talking, drawing all the group into our
conversation, but I could see only her,
the little girl in the meadow, the awkward
fifteen-year-old, now a beautiful radiant
doe Cooley Memorial Hall
J oe Cooley, the well known accordeon
player from Peterswell, Co. Galway, is
almost five years dead. Joe's death, at
forty nine , has deprived Ireland of one of
her greatest and best loved traditional
musicians.
No more will he play his very special
and unique style of traditional Irish music
in the homes, concert halls and pubs of
Ireland, Britain and The United States of
America- that very special style of Irish
music which stirs one's very soul, which
elevates one's spirit.
'Though five years have gone since
Joe's passing, his name and his music are
still fresh and green in the minds and
hearts of the people who knew and loved
him; in the minds and hearts of the
people who never knew Joe Cooley personally
but who've listened to and relished
his music on the one and only L.P.
that he ever made.
So much of a love and an appreciation
and, indeed, sometimes adoration has
grown around Joe Cooley, the musician
and the man, that many people at home
in Ireland and across the Irish sea have,
many times, expressed the wish that the
memory of J oe Cooley should be perpetuated
in a fitting and constructive way.
This great love of Cooley has grown so
much that visitng Americans from Texas
to Chicago, from New York right across
to San Francisco visit Joe's grave when on
vacation in Ireland. Indeed the footsteps
of Australians have helped to tramp a
path in the grass to Cooley's last resting
place.
In J oe Cooley's native village of Peterswell
is an old school-house- built in 1847
and closed in 1944. 'Twas here that he
and his brothers and sisters received their
Primary Education. One eveing in the
Autumn of 1973 and sadly in the Winter
of Joe's life, he stood with his sister,
Agnes, (Mrs. Carew) in front of the old
school, and said to her: " If i live another
year or two Agnes, I will play my heart
out and collect enough money to build a
Community Hall for the young and old
on the site of that old school. Wouldn't
it be grand to see the children enjoying
themselves and an Irish tune being played
in a new hall". Alas, Joe was dead within
two or three months and his lifetime wish
unfulfilled.
Last year a fund raising committee
was formed to finance the building of a
Joe Cooley Memorial Hall ; a community
hall and Irish cultural centre which will
benefit young and old; a hall which will
be a fitting tribute to one of Ireland's
greatest sons. But money is urgently
needed to build this memorial hall. In
Loughrea and Gort, ceilis have been held
to raise finance. The Edenderry branch of
Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann (Co. Offaly)
of which Joe's brother, Tom, is a member
were guest artistes at a fund-raising
function in Loughrea, Co. Galway.
The Joe Cooley Memorial Hall committee
asks every branch of Comhaltas
Ceoltoiri Eireann- in Ireland and all over
the world-to hold an Irish Night to help
finance the building of the hall. The committee
also appeals to the lovers and admirers
of Joe Cooley's music to respond
generously to this request for financial
aid. All subscriptions should be sent to:
'Joe Cooley Memorial Hall Fund,
Peterswell, Co. Galway , Ireland.
girl 0 f twen ty .
That was last Christmas. Now {t's
Christmas week 1978. Our Comhaltas
group will be playing this morning
down in the Parish Church. But today
neither Noreen's flute nor my fiddle
will be part of the group. They'll have
to do without us. Because I'll be waiting
at the altar-rails and Noreen will be
coming towards me on her father's arm.
Cludaigh
Front cover: Drawing by the young Dublin
artist FRANCES BOLAND.
Back inside cover: KIERAN LYNCH, Ballincollig,
winner of four All-Ireland
awards at Fleadh Cheoil na hEireann '78.
He got first in Singing (English) and Uillean
Pipes (Slow Airs) ; and second in accordeon
and Uilleann Pipes (open). In addition
he received the Carling Trophy for
the best all -round competitor in Munster,
having qualified in seven competitionsmusic
and singing.
Back outside cover: A young harpist
photographed at the Fleadh Cheoil in
Listowel.
7

passed by the music of Gennany, by the
music of Italy, or the music of England.
Gennany for purity of style, for depth of
expression, for the agrument of song, surpasses
all the nations to-day. Italy is acknowledged
to be the queen of that lighter,
more pleasing, more sparkling, and, to
me, more pleasant style of music .
In her own style of music England is
supposed to be superior to Italy, and,
perhaps, equal to Gennany. But, great as
are the musical attainments o( these great
peoples, there is not one of Hiese nations,
or any other nation, that can point back
to such national melody, to such a body
of national music as the Irish.
Remember that I am not speaking now
of the laboured composition of some
great master; I am not speaking now of a
wonderful mass, written by one man·; or a
great oratorio, written by another- works
that appeal to the ear refined and attuned
by education; works that delight the critic.
I am speaking of the song that lives in
the hearts and voices of all the people ; I
am speaking of the national songs you
will hear from the husbandman, in the
field, following the plough; from the old
woman, singing to the infant on her knee ;
from the milkmaid, coming from the
milking; from the shoemaker at his work,
or the blacksmith at the forge, where he
is shoeing the horse. This is the true song
of the nation; this is the true national
melody, that is handed down, in a kind of
traditional way, from the remotest ages ;
until in the more civilized and cultivated
time, it is interpreted into written music ;
and then the world discovers, for the first
time, a most beautiful melody in the music
that has been munnured in the glens
and mountain valleys of the country for
hundreds and thousands of years.
Italy has no such song. Great as the
Italians are as masters, they have no popularly
received tradition of music . The
Italian peasant (I have lived amongst
them for years) while working the vineyard,
has no music except two or three
high notes of a most melancholy charactter,
commencing upon a high dominant
and ending in a semitone. The peasants of
Tuscany and of Campagna, when, after
their day's work, they meet in the summer's
evenings to have a dance, have no
music ; only a girl takes a tambourine and
beats upon it, making time, and they
dance to that, but they have no music.
But go to Ireland; listen to the old
woman as she rocks herself in her chair,
and pulls down the hank of flax for the
spinning; listen to the girl coming home
from the field with the can of milk on her
head; and what do you hear?-the most
magnificent melody of music. Go to the
country merry-makings and you'll be sure
to find the old fiddler, or old white-headed
piper, an infinite source of the brightest
and most sparkling music.
How are we to account for this: We
must seek the cause of it in the remotest
history. It is a historical fact that the maritime
or sea-coast people of the north and
west of Europe were, from time immemorial,
addicted to song. We know, for instance,
that in the remotest ages the kings
of our sea-girt island, when they went
forth upon their warlike forays, were always
accompanied by their harper, or
minstrel, who animated them to deeds of
heroic braver.
Celli at . Liverpool
Irish Centre
Once again the whole of the Northern
Region have met for their annual Ceili,
this time in Liverpool, the last two years
it has been held in Manchester. It has
often been said that the family who prays
together stays together and I like to think
the same could be applied to Comhaltas.
Once a year we meet together; people
from all the branches in the North. It is
comforting to see everyone gathered
under one roof. All the old familiar faces,
some new ones and people who have
travelled from miles around for a night
together.
The Irish Centre is an ideal venue , well
worth a visit not only for the music and
dancing. The whole structure is worthy of
more than a second glance. The ceilings
are most unusually ornate and it would
take some time to study the mouldings
and carved figurines. The freize where
panelled walls meet the high ceiling is
adorned with white dancers on a wedgewood
blue background. Above the large
stage a series of coats of anns from the
provinces intermingle with gold laquered
St. Bridget's crosses and the Tricolour
flies in all it's glory. Paintings of
Connemara and Donegal grace the walls.
Showcases highlight the beauties of
Waterford crystal. The shop is resplendent
with all that is good in Irish craftmanship
and traditional music records
can be bought along with paperbacks and
the old Claddagh rings. In the restaurant
and tea bar, people buy Irish made cheese
and sausage to take home with maybe an
odd bag of flour for the coming weeks'
soda bread. Newspapers from "home" are
on sale in the foyer and the notice boards
Even when the Danes came sweeping
down in their galleys upon the Irish coast,
higll on the ' prow of every war-boat sat
the SCALB, or poet- white-haired, heroic,
wrinkled with time- the historian of
all their national prowess. And when they
approached their enemy, sweeping with
their long oars through the waves, he rose
in the hour of battle, and poured forth
his soul in song, and fired every warrior
to the highest and most heroic deeds.
Thus it was in Ireland, when Nial of the
Nine Hostages swept upon the coast of
France and took St. Patrick (then a
youth) prisoner; the first sounds that
greeted the captive's ears were the strains
of our old Irish harper, celebrating in a
language he knew not the glories and
victories of heroes long departed.
are fIlled to capacity advertising
coming attractions. It surely is aptly
named the Irish Centre.
Admist the splendour of this awe
inspiring building, which plays next door
neigllbour to the Catholic Cathedral, lies
the true fiery spirit of Liverpool's own
well loved ceili band. No one could fail to
note the lift they afford the music. Their
musicians don't stand on ceremony. nor
suffer lengthy pauses between the. dances .
Their style is positive, pure traditional
music, indeed for the ears. No wonder
people stood in loud applause, in appreciation
for the music provided for this
years event. They played for a wide
variety of dances, the "Sweets of May",
the "Fairy Reel" and, of course, the more
popular "Sixteen Hand Reel", to name
but a few .
It was a large yet homely gathering, a
culmination of the year's events. I'm sure
that all who attended this year's gathering
of the branches agree that once more
it proved to be the success we will always
hope for.
Barbara Callaghan
MUSICAL
INSI'RUMEN1S
UILLEANN PIPES TIMBER FLUTES,
and BODHRANS. Details and price list-
26 , Spring Gardens, Newark, Notts, England.
23

Bernie O'Connell
An Rinceoir Tradisiunta
Aicim ar Mhuire 's ar Iosa
Go dtaga si aris chugainn slan
Go mbeidh rind [ada 'gab hail timpeal/
Ceol fidiZi 's tine cnamh;
, On a cold and wet October afternoon,
in a little graveyard, outside the village of
Lixnaw, in cou'nty Kerry , Bernie 0 Connell
was laid to rest. She was but eighteen
years old.
Her tragic death came as a great shock
to all of north Kerry, and indeed other
parts of Munster ,-it was her pleasant personality;
her respect for people young
and old and her ability to master the traditional
dancing, that gave her her popularity.
Bernie was a kind, gentle and lovable
person, who had an interest in every
aspect of Irish Culture. Though her time
in this life was short, she still played an
active part with the local branch of Comhaltas
Ceoltoiri Eireann, where she took
part in many concert sessions, Feilti
Cheoil, etc., and it's many is the floor on
which she battered out a hornpipe, reel or
a Kerry set through her involvement with
the wrenboys at Christmas time.
It was her good fortune to be born
into a family where traditonal music,
singing and dancing, were deeply appreciated.
Her mother (Mrs. Hannah 0 Connell)
is present Chairlady of the Lixnaw
branch of Comhaltas. Bernie learned most
of her dancing from Kay . Spillane of
Cauesway, another great exponent of
traditional dancing in the north Kerry
area, and after moving to Dublin, to take
up employment, she had arranged to attend
the ceili dancing classes at Culturlann
na h-Eireann. This in itself showed
her deep interest in the art.
At her funeral , hundreds of mourners
came to pay their final respects to an
"Irish girl". A guard of honour was given
by the local branch of Comhaltas Ceoltoiri
Eireann, and also by other societies.
Mo chreach is mo chas 's e bas a thagann
go trom,
Nuair a leagtar ar lar an cara ba mhaith
Zinn bheith ann.
Suaimhneas Siorai da anam
Eamonn 0 hArgam
"Dia's Muire dhibh. Tairnid anseo ag an
bhFleadh Cheoil agus ag baint an-taitnirnh
ar fad as gach rud. Deirtear Iinn go mbeidh
Fleadh '79 ar siul i mBuncrana. An mbeidh
sibh ann? Beirnid-ne, le Cunarnh De."
JOAN O'GRADY of Roscrea performed
with the RSlscrea Seisiun Group and also joined
the Bridge Ceili Band as pianist on Sunday
night at Seisiun na Sarnhna.
CAPT O'NEILL
HONOURED
Recently at the four crossroads, Trawlibawn,
there was a very successful gathering
in honour of Capt. Francis O'Neill
organised by the Cork Pipers Club and
Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann, with the
crowds of 'over a thousand coming from
all over the country. The fine weather
enabled people to enjoy fully the half
dozen or so seisiuin taking place simultaneously.
In the evening a free ceili
was held at the Anchor Hotel which also
proved very popular.
25

DON'T KNOW!
By Barbara CaJlaghan
How is it that so many of the lovliest
Irish traditional tunes have the same title,
"Don't Know" ?
They all sound so differen t to me, yet
all too often an enquiry as to the title
produces the same response. No doubt
you'll get a comment on wllere the tune
was go t and from wlwm. Indeed the
number of years since the tune was
learned will be recaHed.
"And the title. ?" Well , the musician is
none too sure. It is so exasperating to
be stirred by a tune only to be told the
title is "Don't Know".
Titles don't matter you may say. It's
common knowledge that such a tune
leads into another. Who cares about what
it is called? Well , I care.
There will be a sudden change within a
tune that makes one sit up and take
notice. A decision is made there and then
to enquire after the name of the tune.
Maybe it will be in O'Neills or Brendan
Breathnach's I 11 look it up as soon as I get
home.
Pity poor me who isn ' t blessed with
the ear and capabilities to pick up an air
aurally. It's laborious task to sit and play
the tune over and over again from the
music. Memorising the notes; the ups and
downs; the flow of dots mapped out on a
stave. It is exciting to find the sequence
of notes has been indelibly inscribed
upon ones memory at the following
practice session. A few more days and the
speed required might be nearing one's
goal. Who knows what the next few
weeks will reveal? Fingers will become
untangled; the tune will take shape;
ornaments added and some resemblance
gained of what traditional music should
sound of.
It must be the hardest way to learn to
play. What price talent or gift? But, the
tune must have a title. Some incidence
inspired the composer to map out dots on
the stave for posterity, and who are we to
ignore this?
Let me take you down to Dingle
Peninsula and into the company of two
rare fiddlers who patiently played, at my
request, various pieces dearly loved . With
some difficulty, I managed to have them
play the "Harvest Home". Of course they .
were sorry, they didn't recall that one. If
I could lilt a couple of bars, well, maybe?
As my lilting ability matches only my
ear for picking up a tune, it was a case of
saying, "Well maybe you know it as the
"Cork Hornpipe". That did the trick and
into the Harvest Home we tripped. It's all
very well having a tune with two or more
24
known titles, but what of the many tunes
with the usual title of "Don' t Know"?
So much can be obtained from the
very title alone. Take the "Lark in .the
Morning" for instance. Close your eyes
and imagine the morning air , cool and refreshing.
The lark waking early to greet
the day. The first part of the tune, where
she raises her sleepy head from the nest,
isn't quite so exciting as the second part
when I like to feel she is wheeling and
gliding about on the wind , perhaps hunting
the proverbial worm. The third part to
me is self explanatory. She is so obviously
taking her bath in sandy soil or water,
shaking and ruffling her feathers. Good
control of volume here produces a really
dramatic effect and brings you to the
fourth part which is ali ve and busy with
activity. A real story within a tune, and,
the plot begins to unfold with the title.
How sad if such an air became known by
the title "Don't Know".
I'm asking all lovers of traditional
music to reconsider their apparent lack of
concern over titles. Comhaltas is doing a
fine and tremendous job of reviving
interest; digging up almost lost music and
preserving what you have. So , why not
stress the importance of knowing the
titles?
There will be less chance of the "Don't
Knows" becoming tunes which people
really DON'T KNOW if teachers and
fellow musicians make sure the title is
known .
The Viking Bandwagon
A CALL for a fair share of traditional
fare in R.T.E.2 and on the new radio station
was made at the annual meeting of
Mountbellew branch of Comhaltas Ceoltoiri
Eireann. It was stressed at the meeting
that traditional music was being neglected
by R.T.E., especially by television.
The secretary Micheal 0 hOgain, reported
a record membership of 136, and
said that the branch had been active in
many fields during the past year with
special emhasis in helping to reduce the
debt on the Culturlann, and in the promotion
of ceili dancing.
He suggested that the Department of
Education should include traditional
dancing, in all its forms, in the P.E.
teacher training course.
Referring to the agitation for the preservation
of the Viking site in Dublin, the
secretary said that much stress had been
laid on the importance of the Woodquay
site as part of our cultural heritage.
Our traditional music, song and dance,
as well as our native language, said the
Consider the following list: ­
..... .. fifth symphony
Somebody's melody in F
.. . . third movement in E major
The mind boggles . All right, I agree,
the composer is given his just recognition
and the music lives on , but imagine the
vast wealth of Irish traditional music
becoming known as .. reel in D, or blah in
A Minor. How soon before the tunes are
catalogued like cars and bear registration
numbers? No name. No clue as to
whether the air is of a fierce battle or
descriptive of a gently flowing stream.
Give me understandable descriptive titles
like "Turkey in the Straw" and "Jenny
Picking Cockles" anyday.
A newly composed piece of Liam
Webster, button accordeon player of
Preston, started me thinking about titles.
He called his tune "The Crashed Dove".
He saw a crashed dove, composed the
tune, and it really sounds like a crashed
dove. I hope the tune lives on and that
the all im portant title is retained.
secretary, should be on a much higher
plane in the cultural heritage hierarchy
than the Vikings, but strangely enough,
many of the big "noises" riding on the
Woodquay band wagon seem to have no
time for Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann or
for societies working for the preservation
and promotion of our own language.
A treble for Calm
Colm O'Donnell, son of Mr. and Mrs.
Seamus O'Donnell, Kilmactigue, Aclare
was the winner of three All-Ireland com ­
petitions at the Fleadh Ceoil at Listowel
in the 14-16 age group-tin whistle, slow
airs, whistling and lilting_
Colm now has a total of ten awards at
All-Ireland level in Fleadh competitions.

The Power of Music
Ce mhead dochair ata deanta ag saol
meicniuil an lae inniu ar ar 'dtraidisiuin,
go mor-mhor ar ar gceol agus amhranaiocht?
Sin ceist a chuireas orm fein tar
eis leacht an Athar Tomas de Burca ar ar
gceol naisiunta a leamh ar na mallaibh. Ta
tagairt ag an sagart cailiuil (a cailleadh
beagnach cead bliain 0 shoin) d'amhrain
chailin dheas chruite na mbo, do dhuain
an bhean tuirne, d'[hoinn an threabhadora
agua an ghreasai agus r1.
Ach dimigh sin agus thainig re an innill
agus re an challain agus is bodhaire muid
uilig de bharr sin, agus is boichte muid 0
thaobh cultuir agus spioradaltachta.
(The distinguished Dominican preacher,
Fr. Thomas N.Burke, or Fr. Tom
Burke, as he was affectionately known,
was born in Galway City in 1803. He
went to Rome at the age of 17 to study
for the priesthood and after 5 years, he
was sent to England where he was . ordained
a member of the Dominican Order.
He spent four years of missionary
work in the Gloucestershire area before
returning to Ireland where he founded
the Dominican House at Tallaght.
After 7 years he was appointed Superior
at San Clemente, Rome. Here he was
chosen as preacher in English during the
Lenten services in the Church of Santa
Maria Del Popolo, where large and critical
congretations, many of them non­
Catholic, heard him and were highly impressed
by his inspiring sermons, which
he continued to deliver for over 5 years.
Back in Ireland, he was in constant demand
as a preacher and lecturer and his
tremendous eloquence enthralled vast
audiences. In 1872- he was then Provincial
of the Order-he went on a religious
mission to the United States and preached
and lectured in a number of cities. His
mission co-incided with a visit by the English
historian, James A. Froude, who was
disseminating anti-Irish propaganda to
win American support for the British regime
in Ireland. Fr. Tom Burke responded
with masterful argument and eloquence
in a series of lectures, utterly demolishing
the British historian and propagandist,
who was 12 years his senior, and winning
22
By Fr. Tom Burke
(Inroduced by Micheal 0 hOgain)
wide acclaim, surpassing even that accorded
to Fr. Matthew.
The big demand on the services of the
distinguished orator and lecturer took its
toll of his health, and he died (in Tallaght)
in 1883 at the age of 53).
The following is from a lecture by Fr.
Tom burke on the National Music of Irlland.
What shall we say of the power of
music in stirring up all the nobler emotions
of man? The soldier arrives after his
forced march, tired, upon the battlefield.
He hopes for a few hours' rest before he
is called upon to put forth all his
strength. The bugle sounds in the morning,
and this poor and unrested man is obliged
to stand to his arms all day and face
death in a thousand forms. The tug of
war lasts the whole day long. Now retreating,
now advancing, every nerve is
braced up, every emotion excited in him,
. until at length nature appears to yield,
and the tired warrior seems unable to
wield his sword another hour.
But the national music strikes up ; the
bugle and the trumpets send forth their
sounds in some great national strain!
Then, with the clash of the cymbal all the
fire is aroused in the man. Drooping,
fainting, perhaps wounded as he is, he
springs to his arms again. Every nobler
emotion of valour and patriotism is raised
within him; to the sound of this music, to
the inspiration of this national song, he
rushes to the front of the battle, and
sweeps his enemy from the field.
Thus, when we consider the nature
of music, do we find that it is of all
other appeals to the senses the most
spiritual; that it is of all other appeals to
the sould the most powerful; that it operates
not as much by the mode of reflection,
as in exciting the memory and the
imagination, causing the spirit and the affections
of men to nobler efforts, and to
thrill with sublime emotions and influeences.
And, therefore, I say it is, of all
other sciences, the most noble and the
most godlike, and the grandest that can
be cultivated by man on this earth.
And now, as it is with individuals, so it
is with nations. As the individual expresses
his sense of pain by the discordant cry
which he utters; as the individual expresses
the joy of his soul by the clear voice
of natural music; so, also, every nation
has its own tradition of music, and its
own national melody and song.
Wherever we find a nation with a clear,
distinct, sweet and emphatic tradition of
national music, coming down from sire to
son, from generation to generation, from
the remotest centuries-there have we' evidence
of a people strong in character,
well marked in their national
- there have we evidence of a most ancient
civilization. But wherever, on the other
hand, you find a people light and frivolous-
not capable of deep emotions in
religion- not deeply interested in their
native land, and painfully affected by her
fortunes-a people easily losing their nationality,
or national feeling, and easily
mingling with strangers, and amalgamating
with them-there you will be sure to
find a people with scarcely any tradition
of national melody that would deserve to
be classed amongst the songs of nations.
Now, amongst these nations, Irelandthat
most ancient and holy island in the
western sea-claims, and deservedly, the
first and grandest pre-eminence among all
peoples. I do not deny to other nations
high musical excellence. I will not even
say that, in this our day, we are not sur-

"
New book by OCanalnn
· 'Traditional Music in Ireland', by Tomas
o Canainn, is a welcome addition to the
relatively small number of books on our
· native music. It is published by Routledge
and Kegan Paul, who have always had an
impressive Irish list and is a beautifully
produced volume.
The author modestly claims that it is
a book for "those who know a little about
Irish music and would like to know
a little more". In fact it is a very fine survey
of the most important aspects of the
living Irish tradition, including sean-nos
singing, piping and fiddling. Tomas, who
himself is a singer of such songs with Na
Fili, gives Examples of the main sean-nos
song types from the various Gaeltacht
areas. There are translations of all the
song examples, as well as a discussion of
their social significance.
One need look no further than the preface
to understand why a book of this
type is so necessary at this stage in our
developing tradition.
"For me, traditional music is so much
more than the sum total of all the techniques:
it involves the whole person and
the complete situation. The traditional
musician is giving something of himself
when he performs, something special that
· is normally hidden, and he is, I think, vulnerable
in this situation. If this is so, traditional
music will only flourish in an atmosphere
of appreciation of what the
player is doing at all levels, not just that
of technique".
20
These other levels are also dealt with
in this fine book, which has chapters on
style and on the structure of Irish Tradit- .
ional Music. Writing of the musicians attitude
to style in performance Tomas
says : " He sees his performance in relation
to that of other musicians who have gone
before him, as well as in the context of
the living tradition, and he often refers to
this aspect of his music.
His place is among the past generations
of musicians as well as among his contemporaries.
His performance only has its
full meaning when measured against
theirs, not necessarily in a spirit of competion:
their contribution, though past,
is to some extent affected by his. With
every performance he is, as it were, shifting
the centre of gravity of the tradition
towards hinlself, however minutely, and
is re-establishing the hierarchy of perfo
rmers past and present."
The book has many musical examples
and photographs of musicians. The cover
sketch of the author playing the pipes is
particularly effective. It is by Corkman
Laurence Hutson.
It is to be expected that Tomas' own
instrument, the uilleann pipes, would receive
special treatment and chapter six is
devoted to a study of piping techniques,
as well as a detailed description of the instrument.
An analysis of the playing of
Paddy Keenan is included and Paddy's
own comments on piping in general and
on his own style are of great significance.
The chapter on fiddling contains sections
on rolling, cutting, droning, trebling,
triplets, sliding, vibrato, bowing, tuning,
and is an important assessment of the fiddler's
art. The music of Matt Cranitch is
analysed and Matt's comments on his
own background and music and on fiddling
styles are quite revealing . •
The longest chapter is that on sean-nos
singing, which Tomas regards as being
central to the whole tradition. Many of
the song-texts are given with translation
and there are separate sections on performance
and sean-nos style. The singer
Tomas 0 Canainn (right) playing with UNa
Fili".

A PIPE MAKING MASTER
BY SEAM US LAFF AN
Brian Howard comes from Sheffield in
Yorkshire from an engineering bac kground,
and now lives in' Kilmacow, Co.
Kilkenny , with his wife and family , working
full time making uileann pipes.
Previously a lecturer in Corby Technichal
for six years, his interest in uileann
pipes springs from his intense interest in
traditional music, of which Yorkshire has
a rich heritage_ Starting as a singer in folk
clubs he began to play various unusual instruments
to add interest to his songs, in
addition to the usual guitar and banjo.
As those instruments were often hard
to come by, (instruments such as lutes
dulcimers) he made his own. He had been
fascinated by the Northumbrian pipes
and in five years made a set from an instruction
book.
Experience has since shown him that
the book had numerous errors, but it was
possible to construct a workable set of
pipes from it. It was necessary to make
many of the specialist tools involved
himself, but this presented no problem to
his engineering skills. Once, when he met
Finbar Furey on the English Folk Club
circuit, Finbar asked him to make a
reamer-a kind of gimlet which makes
tapered holes-for an uileann pipe chanter
for his father Ted Furey.
To test the reamer out he says, he
made a set of uileann pipes. Sometime
later Finbar asked him to make a concert
set of pipes to replace a Kennedy set (a
well known Cork pipe maker) he had
which pitched in E Sharp a fact which
caused problems for other musicians
when he played with them. He asked that
the pipes should be made in stainless steel
to withstand the wear and tear of concert
tours.
Despite the technical difficulties involved
(tough to work, hard on tools,
16
needs special fluxes to solder) Brian managed
to make an excellent set of pipes.
Today, he says, anyone who wants a
stainless set of pipes would have to be
prepared to pay about £1,000 for them.
In July of 1976 Brian Howard moved
to Ireland and began to make pipes professionally.
Working with one apprentice,
John Connolly, and a good selection of
power tools he is now able to turn out
one set of pipes in about five weeks.
There were four in different stages of
completion in his workshop when we visited
him. One was completed and in the
process of being tuned. Tuning is a long
and complex procedure which may take
up to three weeks. After initial tuning he
sends the pipes to Tommy Carney, an expert
Waterford piper (one of the judges in
the Oireachtas piping competitions) who
'plays them in ' for a week or two, before
returning them for final tuning. Mr. Carney
also gives much helpful criticism of the
pipes. Even after this the pipes take a few
months to 'settle down' to their normal
condition.
Mr. Howard has a long waiting list,
mostly from private buyers. Music shops
take precedence on this list, however, as
they help to advertise his product and
give a kind of 'prestige value'. The materials
he uses are normally African black
wood (a dense dark wood, harder than
ebony), seamless brass tubing, square section
brass rod for regulator keys, and
white nylon in place of ivory for end
caps.
Bellows and wind-bag are made of
rubberised leather and rubber connecting
tube. The chanter is made of African
black wood with brass ferrules and nylon
pieces. The regulators are also wooden
with brass keys held under tension by
steel coil springs instead of the traditional
brass lead springs. The drones and mainstock
are seamless brass tubing with nylon
fittings. Reeds are made from Spanish
cane fitted to copper tubes (called staples).
The making of reeds is one of the
most difficult parts of pipe making, and a
good reed is the result of experience and
a good part of luck.
His normal method of working is to
complete about ten components at a time
which can be later finished off and joined
together. The literature on the subject is
sparse and is either too simple or concerns
the theoretical physics of music . .
There is no intermediate state- one which
combines the practical and theoretical aspects
of instruments making. His knowledge
is therefore based on his own research
of existing instruments and by trial
and error experimentation.

THE DEMISE OF THE NATION
On all-Souls Day 1978 they officially
opened RTE-2 in the City of Cork and
joyfully annouced the demise of the nation.
Mourners came from far and near for
the international wake , while the natives
kept watch outside. The spiritual fervour
of the relatives sustained them in their
hour of need: they were consoled by the
thought that even while the old withered,
time-beaten, oppressed- yet dignifiednation
was being consigned to the grave
with O'Leary a new bouncing, glittering,
tinsel-wrapped international star was being
born. Happy birthday to you! Happy
birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear
Bruce and Sammy ... and farewell, Pearse,
to you!! Aye, and farewell to Connolly
and Brugha, Sean Treacy, de hIde,
Sabhat," De Valera, 0 Riada, Seery,
Clancy, Kerr and Rowsome ...
The ceremonies opened with a fanfare
while the gyrating dancers offered up
the spirit of the old nation to the Most
High, and chanted the hope that poor
Roisin Dubh would find more peace and
tranquility in the happ) hunting grounds
than she had received from her neighbour-
and indeed, some of her own children
- on this earth.
The mourners applauded loudly as the
spirit of Roisin drifted (or was driven!)
from her wake in the Cork Opera House.
She hovered silently and sadly for nearly
two hours above the heads of those who
gathered at the birth of the new infant.
A handful of them give the occasional
look of recognition in Roisin's direction :
they realised that the new arrival was a
stranger in an Irish home and that the
mother's origin was dubious. Roisin had
one little glimmer of hope when . her
Chieftains played her praise and again
when a few words of an ancient language
which she understood wafted in her direction
: but these were but the dying
chuckles of the old nation.
14
By "Cuchulainn"
Roisin had lost the will to live ; her Yes , she was no longer an embarrown
children had sold her; driven her assment. She had been coerced, silenced,
from their home, and replaced her with a liquidated. She was no longer a danger ;
breedless waif who had been sired by a challenge to our national conscience.
none-entities and who will be fed at the Roisin was still, yet strangely beautiful.
breasts of a soul-less State. " Where, oh She had lead a good life. As with many
where, are my warriors", she cried. funerals, they could now talk charitably
"Where are the successors of '98, '67 and about the deceased, something which
'16? Are they but noted years in school was difficult and too obviously hypobooks?
Where are my Young Irelanders of critical while she lived. They could afford
to-day? Are there none to take my part? to be sentimental in retrospect. "She was
I made you what you are; I fought for good to us. Stood by us when we needed
you ; nurtured you-I asked only a little her. She kept us together as a family . She
gratitude, a little love , a little recognit- taught us self-respect and self-reliance ... "
ion". But even as she whispered the Even while the thoughts and emotions
words in the hope of finding receptive were stirring, and while the last empty
hearts a hugh cheer rose from the Cork cliches of the graveside oration drifted
Opera-ting House-the new infant was away among the nation's gravestones on
born. that bleak November day, the body of
The surgeons and their attendants Roisin was consigned to the soil from
acknowledged the shouts of "bravo, which she came. Her monument was
bravo", and amidst the shrieking cries of placed in position and the spirits of the
the strange infant and a few plaintiff sobs past gathered nearer to read the short
from some of Roisin's relatives , the cur- epitaph and then moved in sorrow to the
tains came down on the old nation. outer regions of the crowd to watch and
Roisin Dubh-the spirit of Ireland- took wait. The big bold letters on th at newly
one last long look at the scene of cul- cut stone told of the heartbreak: "MO
tural debauchery as enacted on All- CHLANN FEIN DO DHIOL A MATH­
Souls Day, 1978, in the Rebel-City of AIR" (my own children sold their
Cork and melted away into oblivion. mother).
Forever? Maybe not!
. The mourners gathered at the graveside.
"She" was no longer an embarrassment
to them. Roisin was a relic of the
past- a reminder of their origins- and too
often she stirred the conscience of their
neighbour, Mother England. If Roisin
had only stayed quiet and sat in silence
on the hob they could have abided her
presence. But no, she insisted on speaking
in the old way , in a language which was
now out of date. Roisin clothed herself in
old values, old principles, and made them
look old-fashioned in the eyes of a world
which is trendy, liberated and broadminded.

The O'Brien Legend
Three generations of musicians photographed
in 1970: the late DINNY O"BRIEN; his grand­
. daughter EILEEN OG and his son PADDY.
The recent death of Dinny O'Brien , who
would have been 93 years of age next
birthday, prompts us to recall some
memories of this great musical family. An
issu e of TREOIR in 1970 carried an
article und er the title of "The Legend of
Paddy O'Brien" , a son of the late Dinny
O'Brien, in which Paddy's career from
Newtown to New York and back again is
traced.
Paddy's family home at Newtown,
about five miles from the town of
Nenagh, was always a gathering place for
musicians. His father was an accomplished
fidd le palyer and was leader of
the famous Bridge Ceil i Band. The band
in cluded such musicians as Franci e
Brereton, and Tomas Ryan (accordeonists);
Jimmy Creamer and Sean Kenn edy
(fiddlers) ; Pad dy Joe Mo loney and
Michael O'Meara (Outes).
The yo un g Paddy O'Brien was reared
in an environment of traditional music
and it was an inevitable as goin g to sc hool
that he would test his hereditary
attribu tes. This he did at the age of seven .
It was with the fiddle, however, and not
the accordeon that Paddy first tried his
hand and continued to the age of ten. As
a matter of fact he is still a fine fiddle
player to this day.
If Sergeant John Kelly from Aughrim
didn't have an accordeon Paddy O'Brien
might not be a household name to-day
among followers of traditional music'
But John Kelly, who was stationed at
Portroe, did have an accordeon and he
visited Dinny O'Brien's house for
sessions. He often left the accordeon at
the house and Paddy was working at it
in the Sergeant's absence. The Sergeant
had the old style of playing and the
youn g O'Brien learned a lot of tunes from
him.
Paddy quickly became a competen t
accordeon player and a t the age of
fourteen with his father and Bill Fahy, a
Oute player from Puckane, he made his
first broadcast live fro m Killaloe. From
then on he played wi th thc Lough Derg
CeiJj Band , and at the age of fift ecn he
The late D1NNY O'BRIEN
Accordeonist PADDY O'BRIEN
got an accordeon of his own.
Many of the better known musIcians
made names for themselves at competitions
but the man from Newtown was
not so in clin ed. Like an artist with a new
concept of painting, Paddy O'Brien
brought in to existence a new and refreshing
style of playing, but a style, neverthe-
EILEEN OG O'BRIEN

chur i dtoll a cheile.
Dealbh Chuimhneachain don bPiarsach
a thogaint i Sraid Ui Chonaill, Baile Atha
Cliath taobh le hArd-Oifig An Phoist.
Gloir-reim, scriofa ag an Dr. Brian
MacMathuna, a chur a taispeaint sa Staid
Naisiunta don tseachtain dar crioch 10
Samhain 1979.
Cabhroidh An Coiste Naisiunta le
Coisti reigiunda pe beala c/1 is feidir agus
tathar ag suil go nglacfaidh pobal na tire
pairt san iarracht at

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