J - Comhaltas Archive

Treolr
Iris Oifigiuil Chomhaltas Ceolt6iri Eireann
The B\lOk of Traditional Music, Song and Dance
Iml 17 Uimhir 4 4 ISSN 0790-004X
Eagarfhocal ... . . .. .. . . . .. . . ... ... .. . ... . 1
A Quest For The Perfect Whistle .. . ... .. .. ... .. 2
Hungarian Folk Music . ..... .. .. . . ...... . . . . 3
As Things Were Then . ... . . . ..... . .. . .. . ... .4
The Legend Of Paddy O'Brien ... .. . . ..... . . . . . 6
Some Old Customs And Cures . ... . ..... . .. .. .. 7
Two Treats For The Singing Fans .. .. . . ... . . . .. . 8
The Tragedy of Lough Corrib .. . . . .... . .. .. . . . 9
European Tour Group LP .. . . .. . ... . .. . . .... 10
The Winding Mountain Road .. . . . . . .. . . .. ... . 11
] oe O'Dowd , Sligo Fiddler .. . . . . . . .. . ...... . 12
Aire Duit Oiche Sharnhna . .. . ..... . ... .. .. . . 14
Burial Wishes Of Kerry Bard . .. . .. ... ... . . . . . 15
The Making Of A Television Programme . . . .. . . .. 16
Old ] im The Piper . .. .. .... .. ...... . . . . . . . 18
Ag Deanarnh Ceoil. . . . .. . . . . . . ... ... . .. Centre
Liam Dall agus Caitlin .. .. ... . .. . . .. .. . . . . . 20
Clear The House For A Set . . .. .. ..... . .. . . . . 22
Mo Chara Cianin 6 Nualhiin . .. . . .... .... . . . . 24
Claire Burke .. . . . .... . ... . . . . . .. . . . ..... 25
The Dream Of A Native People . . . . . . . . .. . . .. . 26
The Late Peter K i1roe . . ... .. . . . . .. .. . .. . . . . 27
Arts Rethink In Australia . ..... . . . ... . . . . ... 28
The Pipes Through The Ages ... ...... . . . . . . . . 31
A Wonderful Lady .... .... . . .. .. . ... . . . . .. 33
Rambling . .. . . . .. . . . .. .. .. . . . . .. .. . .. . . 34
Our Good Friend Criost6ir . . . . . . ... .. .. .. .. . 36
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cornhaLtos
ceoLtolRI
elReann
Cearnog Belgrave , Baile na Manach.
Co. Bhaile Atha C1iath . Ireland . Fan R00295
EagartbocaJ
They sit unobtrusively in the background while
playing their music at a local session or on the street at a
Fleadb Cheoil.They welcome young musicians even
though their repertoire of tunes may be limited or their
musicianship immature. They get obvious satisfaction
from their music-making. They may never appear on
television or be included in a Concert Tour: these are
the unsung heroes of Combaltas.
It is a sheer joy to be in the company of these unsung
heroes. Their enthusiasm has never been dimmed by the
spotlights and their spirit is reminiscent of the early
Combaltas years when like cultural crusaders the
musicians availed of every opportunity to ' spread the
love and knowledge of our native music. They encouraged
many a "Fliinne Geal an Lae" performer who has
since become a proficient musician in his or her own
ritht.
The unsung heroes require no coaxing to open their
instrumental cases. Their enthusiasm is infectious. They
will talk about their music to the casual listener or
curious passerby with all the integrity and urgency of .
the hedgeschool master. Their faces show contentment
and pleasure rather than tenseness and the glint in the
eye is ever. present. The audience is relaxed in the company
of these musicmakers and the movement of a
chair or the clatter of a teapot goes unnoticed. This
musicmaking is part of the environment and not superimposed
on it. It is a musicmaking which allows for and
cultivates the many moods which are to be found in
such a gathering: it doesn't create a prima donna style
awe which is out of place in a kitchen setting or Fleadh
Cheoil atmosphere.
Fortunately, there are thousands of unsung heroes
and their numbers grow daily. They bear testimony to
the true spirit and purpose of Combaltas. They sustain
the environment which is conducive to the continued
prominence of the sung heroes. Though they may not
share the limelight with their more toasted coleagues,
the "naturals" are always available for the local session,
ceili class, village concert or hunting the wren.
We salute the unsung heroes and thank them for the
many hOUfS of pleasure which they have given us. We
hope that'· they will continue to accompany the rising
dust from the set-dancers' feet and cultivate the precious
link with the past from the throne of the fll'eside hob.

Back in the year 1930 or thereabouts
the people of Ireland lived a different
life than that of today. People had their
own milk , made their own butter and
bread. The flour used was got from milling
the wheat which they grew on the
land .
They had no electricity or electric or
gas ovens. They used a " bastible" or
pot oven. The bastible was the main
way of cooking. Turf was used to make
the fire . They cut the turf in the bog,
dried it and drew it home with donkeys
and baskets or if they were lucky they
had a horse and stide. To come back to
the "bastible" it was used as I have said
to take bread . The turf coals were
placed on the lid and the fire distributed
under and around the sides. It was
also used to boil meat and potatoes,
roast chicken , duck or goose. It was the
most useful utensil around the house.
The main meat used was bacon. Pigs
were fattened by boiling small potatoes
which again were home grown, mixed
with crusted oats or barley to which a
little sk im milk was added. The chicken
was usually a Sunday treat. Then once
a month when the man of the house
would go to the fair he would bring
home a piece of fresh meat, - what we
now know as round steak. That was the
only meat purchased. All the rest was
home produced.
Another very important food was
fish. It was to be got by fishing from
the rock in Summer. A quantity of that
was salted in a timber barrel to preserve
it. It was then dried in the sun and
stored up for the Winter. Every Friday
was a fast day . The fish was placed in
co ld water overnight to remove the salt,
then boiled and served with onions,
white sauce , butter and potatoes and
very nice it was too.
The tradition always was to have a
fish supper on Christmas Eve , place a
light to Our Lady and St. J oseph on the
dark and lonely road to Bethlehem.
The big treat at Christmas was to
have currant cake, wine, apples and
oranges. People went to early Mass in
the dark of the morning on foot , and
odd bicycles, others went by horse and
trap. All exchanged the same greeting­
"Happy Christmas" and I firmly believe
everyone was happy.
If people were lucky they had a turkey
for dinner on Christmas Day. If
not they had a goose, again their own
Some Old Customs And Cures
Aine Ni Mhaolchathail
produce. They had no radio o r television
, perhaps · they h·ad a gramophone
and some records like "The geese in the
bog", " Dan MCCann" or " Flanagan
Brothers". That enterta.inment was
usually kept for Christmas night. No
one left their home on that night, as
home was the place to be.
The next day was St. Stephen's Day
and the Wren Boys were out bright and
early . They carried a little wren on the
top of a holly bush and wore anything
from mother's apron to sacks in disguise
with faces blackened with shoe polish
and so on..... They sang and played the
tin whistle and accordion at every house
and got a bit of money everywhere they
went.
A t the end of the day, they counted
all the sixpences and shillings and
maybe two bobs and odd half-crown
and divided the cash between them.
They finished up tired and happy.
Hallowe'en was another time of the
year looked forward to especially by the
children. They tied an apple from the
ceiling and whoever managed to get the
first bite got the apple. The mother
made a brack and put a ring, a match
and a rag in it. There was great excitement
to see who would get the different
items. As the saying goes - he who gets
the ring gets married within the year,
and so on. Blind Man's Buff was another
favourite game on that night. CandIes
and parafin oil lamps were the main
source of light.
May Day - the beginning of summer
was another traditional day. Whoever
got out of bed first on that morning
brought in the Summer. This was
usually a green slip of a tree or shrub. It
was said to be unlucky to travel on May
Day. The belief was some misfortune
would follow. It was also deemed un-
lucky to lend anything on May Day, or
give milk or butter away as for the remainder
of the year there would be
very little cream on the milk.
People had no water on tap, they
drew the water for the kettle in buckets
from the spring well. They collected
the rain water in a barrel from the roof
of the dwelling house for washing
clothes and for the many other uses
around the house.
During the long winter nights, knitting
was the pastime for the women
folk, while making baskets from twigs,
playing cards or an odd house dance
kept most of the men happy.
There were cures for the usual
coughs and colds. Anyone suffering
from Asthma for example took a hot
drink of carrigeen moss and lemon juice
going to bed. The carrigeen moss was
picked on the sea shore, dried and
stored until needed. It was also used as
dessert. Camphorated oil was another
cure to rub on the chest and cover with
red flannel, and of course, beat up the
white of an egg very stiff, add sugar and
a teaspoonful of whiskey and take every
couple of hours. All those cures were
known to be very effective.
A cure for warts was to get a snail in
a shell. Rub on the wart making the
sign of the cross nine times. Then hang
the snail on a skeach bush, by the time
the snail fell off the wart would have
disappeared .
There were very few doctors or pills
in those days. The family Rosary was
said every night. Money didn't matter
that much. If there was anything they
thought they needed and couldn't
afford, they always found a way to get
on without it. Everyone seemed happy
and content.
7

hi mo sheanathair ag gui an uile rnhallacht
air fein os iseal i ngeall ar chomh
hamaideach saonta is a bhi se. A
thuisce a duirt an strainsei r leis gan a
bheal a oscailt fad a bhi se ar a dhroim,
ba choir go dtuigfi da ce leis a raibh se
ag caint. Ach niorbh aon mhaith a
bheith ag deanamh brain nuair a bhi an
bran dean ta, agus thosaigh se ag sarnhlu
da fein a raibh i ndan do. Cad a tharladh,
no ca leagfadh an capall e le
breacadh an lae?
Minic a chuala se faoi dhaoine a rug
an Puca chun siuil fado fada . A uncail
fein - nar thit an tu baiste sin air, agus
ni fhaca einne riarnh aris e! Agus duine
de na Drisceolaigh a bhi ag cuairtiocht
- a dhala fein - Oiche Sharnhna agus
nar thainig abhaile. Nach bhfuarthas
eisean an la ina dhiaidh sin ar bhruach
an Locha Deirg i dTfr Chonaill - e
cosnochta, ar saochan ceille, agus fad
Eireann ana theach fein.
A g
machnamh ar na cursai sin a bhf
se agus e deich mile sli a bhaile.
Ag dui trid an Bhearna Mhor
doibh bhuail smaoineamh eile e -
cad dearfadh se lena bhean da
mba rud e gur leag se suil uirthi aris?
Ar aghaidh leo de ruaig reatha agus
nlorbh fhada go raibh se i gcuid den tir
nach raibh eolas na aithne ar bith aige
uirthi. Thosaigh se ag tabhairt a
pheacai chun cuirnhne agus ag ra a
phaidreacha os iseal. Agus ansin, agus
iad ag sciurdadh tri ghleann mar domhain
, cad dearfa ach bhog daba mar cuir
a bheola an chapaill, agus car thuirling
se ach i mbeal Thaidhg - beal a bhi ar
leathadh aige agus e ag iarraidh a anail
a tharraingt. An dtuigeann tu anois me?
B' in buille na tubaiste! Ni fheadfadh
aon duine beo cur suas lena leitheid,
agus nlor thuisce crioch leis an gcasachtach
agus an seiliu agus an bealghlanadh
na lig Tadhg beic as -
" Scread maidine ort, a mhic an
diabhail! Go mbrise tu do rnhuineal -"
Agus leis sin samhlaiodh do go raibh
se ag titim - ag titim - no gur bhuail se
an talamh de thuairt a bhain croitheadh
as a raibh d'fhiacla aige, agus a d'fhag ar
seachranbeille e.
Nuair a th

was to rehearse all the items first , then
to have a dress rehearsal and only then
to record the entire concert from start
to finish in one go. Brian decided on
the latter course for two reasons.
Firstly, recording the entire concert in
one go would allow it to flow naturally
and , secondly , doing all the rehearsals
first would allow us to record as late as
8.00 p.m. This meant that we could
have a studio audience which is a very
desirable feature in any music
programme.
I made out a draft for audience
tickets and brought it over to the RTE
printing unit and then made the
necessary arrangements for the distribution
of the tickets. Once that was done,
RTE Reception, Security and the House
Superintendant were informed that an
audien ce of 120 persons would be arriving
at 7.45 p.m. approx. on the 3rd CLlODHNA DEMPSEY
of September to attend the recording of
a concert in Studio I . A number of
other details had to be looked after too.
Dressingrooms were booked for the artistes,
programme graphics were ordered
and work began on the script and running
order. Once Brian had written
these, they were typed up and brought
over to the printing unit for copying.
Production details were ironed out at
a production planning meeting
convened by RTE's Production, Planning
and Control Department. This was
attended by representatives from
Cameras, Sound, Lighting, Floor Management,
Design and others, and the
purpose of the meeting was to decide on
the kind of facilities we would need on
the day and how we planned to use
them. One thing we wanted , for
in stance, was a fourth camera which
co uld give us an overhead shot of the
performers taken from the studio
gantry. This was information essential
not only to Studio Cameras but to
Lighting as well because it meant that
the enormous lamps which light the
Studio would have to be re-arranged so
as no t to get in the way of the overhead
shot. Meetings like this are extremely
valuable simply be cause they diminish
the possibility o f the kind of fo ul-up
which wo uld cost us valuable studio
time on the day.
Eventually , preparations for the reco
rding o f the programme were brought
to as near a state of completio n as is
possible and it was time to meet the
artistes during rehearsals in Monkstown.
These were attended by Brian, Peter
Fletcher (our Soundman) and myself.
Peter needed to hear the instruments
and the overall sound produced by the
artistes for it was his job to make sure
the programme sounded good. Brian
needed to see the line-up of the
musicians and dancers from a Director's EOIN 0 CIONNAITH
point of view, and I needed to time the
various items to make sure the
programme didn't overrun on the day.
Next morning, we arrived in Studio I
in Donnybrook to begin camera rehearsal
for " With A Song And A Tune" , as
we had decided to call the programme.
Scripts were distributed to Cameras,
Sound, Lighting, Floor Manager, Vision
Mixer, Master Control and the Central
Apparatus Room. Each item was rehearsed
at least twice , sometimes three
times, as various camera shots and
angles were tried out. This carried on
until four o'clock at which point we
went through a dress rehearsal. Eventually
it was teatime and we all took a
well-deserved break. After tea, we
would begin to record the programme.
When we arrived back, the reception
area was beginning to fill up. The
aud ience had arrived. As soon as they
were in their seats they were welcomed
in turn by Floor Manager, Tadhg De
Brim, and Producer/ Director, Brian
Eustace. A few minutes later recording
commenced.
The programme opened with the ensemble
performing " Sweet Biddy Daly"
which was followed by an introduction
from Presenter, Cliodhna Dempsey, who
hosted the show. The musicians and
dancers of Comhaltas Ceolt6iri Eireann
gave an excellent performance throughout
the entire show to the obvious
delight of the studio audience. Anne
Mulqueen's singing was beautiful, the
dancing of Maria Wogan, Frieda Gray,
Michael Ryan and Michael Cooney was
at times astounding and all the
musicians were wonderful. Perhaps I
will be forgiven if [ mentionjust one of
the many musicians who made it such a
splendid concert, that is Eoin b
Cionnaith. Eoin's " Fiach An Mhadra
Rua" , so beautifu lIy performed on the
uilleann pipes, made a deep and lasting
impression on me. The uilleann pipes
are a difficult enough instrument to
play at the best of times and a piece as
complex as " Fiach An Mhadra Rua"
doesn' t make it any easier. But such
was Eoin's sheer mastery of the pipes
that he conveyed the music, sound and
atmosphere of the " Fox Hunt". It was
musical wizardry at its best.
Once the programme was finished we
could all breathe a sigh of relief. But
there was still work to be done. The
programme had to be checked and
details had to be sent to the Presentation
Department who are responsible
for the actual transmission of all programmes.
Then we worked on publicity
and Brian wrote an article about the
programme for the " RTE Guide". Finally,
the programme was transmitted,
the tape was stored and I closed another
file .
17

SE AN 's A BHRisTE LEATHAIR
j' J ·
SEAN 's A BHRISTE LEATHAlR,
Se an amhran simplf, an -oiriunach do
dhaoine oga,
11); J j)
Nuair a bhios i dtliis mo shaoil 's me 'g eiri suas im' Ieanbh
Bhi orm gean gach einne, ba mise peata 'n cheana.
Nuair a bhios ag duI sna deagaibh do theinn i measc na bhfearaibh
J' J J J. J
Nior mhor dom fein 'na dheidh sin iompail amach im' ghaige.
)1 £ 0111 J. )'IJ) Jj'J J
Ri-tooraI ooraI ah, rite tooraI ooraI addy
Ri-tooraI ooraI ah, Sean 's a Bhriste Leathair.
Nuair a bhios i dtuis mo shaoil
's me 'g eiri suas im ' leanbh
Bhi orm gean gach einne,
Ba m ise peata 'n cheana.
Nuair a bhios ag dui sna deagaibh
Do the inn i measc na bhfearaibh
N {or mh6r dom fein ' na dheidh sin
lompail amach im' ghaige.
Ri- tooral ooral ah , rite tooral ooral addy
Ri- tooral ooral ah , Se an ' s a Bhriste Leathair.
Bhi orm culaith bhrea neata
Inniuil do rl no marcuis,
Casoigln deas breide
Is veistin gleigeal flannel;
Stocai de ghlas caorach
Is broga Gaelach smeartha,
Hata iseal Quaker ag us
Sce ilp de bhri ste lea thair.
Ri- tooral ooral ah, rite tooral ooral addy
Ri- tooral ooral ah, Sean 's a Bhriste Leathair
Anois 0 tairn san aos
's na geaga cama craptha,
Mo chairde ag dui san eag
's ag imeacht uairn go tapaidh,
'Se ghulm ar Aon-Mhac De
Gach claon-bheart dom do mhaitheamh ,
's an tsli do dheanarnh reidh
Dom fein 's dom bhriste leathair.

The unexpected and untimely death
of Peter Kilroe has deprived the
Midlands of one of its great musicians.
Peter will be remembered not only as an
accomplished musician but also as one
of the great characters of the area.
A native of Ballinamona, Durrow,
Tullamore , he was the eldest of a family
of twelve. There was music in his
family on both sides and it's not surprising
that he began playing the tin
whistle at a very early age and began
playing the concert flute at around
eleven years of age. He was also an
accomplished saxophone player and he
was noted for his ability to play reels on
this instrument. Peter was also a member
of Saint Colmcille's Pipe Band, Tullamore
for many years.
Undoubtedly it is as a member of the
Ballinamere Ceil! Band that Peter will
be best remembered . The band under
the leadership of his uncle, Dan Cleary,
was formed in the late 1940s. For over
twenty years it was one of the leading
Ceili Bands of Ireland and was in great
demand at Ceilithe and Maypoles all
over the country. He toured Britain on
a few occasions with the band. The
band also broadcast regularly on 'CeiH
House' and made a number of records.
Peter attended the meetings that led
to the formation of Comhaltas Ceolt6iri
Eireann in M ullingar in 1951 and
remained a life-long member of CCE.
He won the All-Ireland title both for his
playing of the flute and as a member of
the Ballinamere Trio with Dan Cleary
and Mick M ullins of Clara.
With the demise of the Ballinamere
Ceili Band in the early seventies Peter
joined the Sean Norman Ceil! Band and
continued to give enjoyment to many
through his music. It was indeed fitting
that he was playing at a ceili in
Edenderry on the Friday before he died.
Peter was employed by Offaly
County Council for over thirty years.
Before that he worked with the Board
of Works. The esteem in which he was
held was reflected in the large attendance
both at the removal from the
County Hospital to Ballycommon
Church and at the funeral Mass.
The Mass was a fitting musical
tribute to Peter with musicians coming
from all over the Midlands to participate
in the liturgy. At the Offertory his
daughter Mary , played a moving slow air
on the flute. The liturgy was also
gra ced with the singing of Rose Daly,
The Late Peter Kilroe
daughter of his friend and fellow musician
the late Jack Daly of Ballycommon.
At the gr'!veside Dan Cleary and Tom
Nolan began the final musical tribute to
Peter by playing some of the tunes associated
with the Ballinamere Ceili
Band. After an oration by Sean Norman
all the musicians joined together to
play reels that surely must have helped
Peter on his final journey to meet his
Maker.
Peter is survived by his wife Kitty,
so n Christopher, daugters, Lily and Mrs.
Mary Hrennan, son-in-law Frank , granddaughter
Catherine, his brothers Paddy,
and Christy (Durrow), Jimmy (Tullamore),
his sisters Rose Flynn (Wood-of-
0), Lily Maloney and Esther Fitzpatrick
(Portarlington)n, Susan Corcoran
(Daingean), Mary Gorman (Killeigh),
Margaret McCann (Kilcormac), Ann
Daly (Mountbolus), and Kathleen Devney
(Gort, Co . Galway), sisters-in-law,
brotherS-in-law, Aunts, Uncle , Nephews
and Nieces.
May he Rest In Peace.
27

coming jingoistic but at the same time
she is aware that other people can be
jingositic about their own cultures and
about the incoming cultures and forget
their own.
Phyl gives as an example of her own
feelings an exciting experience she had
at the Canberra National Festival. Komninos
Zervos, a Melbourne poet, from
Greece (or a G reek poet from Melbourne)
got up at the Poet's Dinner and
said two poems; one in factory Greek
and one called "If I Were the Son of An
Englishman". Phyl felt so moved that
she wanted to put a tune to it. It was
"real communication .. .. and that to me
is what the folk arts are all about- communication."
However, she expresses a warning
that "If we lose track of what we
should be communicating ... .if we loose
that ability to identify what is the true
Australian experience, then we are not
really filling a function. To me , what
Komninos Zervous was saying was one
true Australian experience."
ENDING THE INFRASTRUCTURE
There is also the problem that a folk
culture is a continually developing and
changing creature. Phyl tries to look
50- 100 years ahead and forget about
the personalities involved. "They'll all
be dead! " The bush traditions are important
but they aren't the reality of
what is happening today. So, we have
to have the perceptions to support the
people who are writing the reality of
today.
Of course, the Music Board must be
convinced that they are worth funding.
The Board can see the value of funding
the infrastructure that enables the folk
arts to happen.
" The tricky part is to balance the
funding between the grass roots and the
infrastructure- the commercial person
who has developed through the grass
roots and wants to become professional.
Now the idea of a professional folk
person has been said to be an impossibility,
and yet they are also a reality.
However, the dangers of professional
folk people is that in the need to stay
professional they change the product."
Phyl envisages a method of producing
funding for a given number of years
to enable a person to develop but she
thinks that nO-Qne could honestly
expect to be a professional folk artiste
for life. "Especially in this country you
have to be realistic."
Over the past few months Phyl has
put a lot of thought into the future of
folk music. As part of her role on the
M usic Board she has had to develop
guidelines for folk music over the next 5
years- a "Folk Plan" .
The plan looks at various segments,
first the necessary administration which
feeds a double circle continuum which
functions at both a written and
performance level. The continuum
flows through collection, documentation,
performance, education and
composition.
A balance of funding between the
elements is necessary ; " It's no use putting
more money into collecting if at
the same time you are not developing
your performers." Phyl feels that the
folk revival lacks the link between performers
and collectors and that this
creates a weakness in the material produced.
"It's all out of balance. The
material that is collected never develops
because nobody is performing it."
AN AUSTRALIAN CULTURLANN
Some of the major ideas of the plan
are on a major scale. The already proposed
Folk Life Centre in Canberra is an
important part of the Folk Plan. Here,
all the aspects of the folk continuum
could take place. Collections could be
housed here on tapes, videos and com-
puters and "the products of the folk
arts could be at the fingertips of people
doing films, documentaries, concerts
and school projects. That's what the
folk arts should be about- they should
be the fare of the people."
The plan envisages residencies by
folk performers, exhibitions of workshops,
profiles of people and artistes,
concerts, plays and exhibitions. The
folklife centre could even become, to
some extent, self funding and even fund
the folk arts.
Of course money is the problem but
as Phyl says "I don't see why, if they're
going to spend $6 million on a Stockman'
s Hall of Fame, they can't spend
$7- 8 millions on a Folk Life Centre.
FLEADHANNA CHEOIL
Phyl sees an important role for Folk
Festivals and that the National Festival
must be concentrated on. "I would like
to see the best workshops around the
country brought to the National
Festival even if we have to spend some
funds on bringing those people here."
She feels that the Festival should be
29

WILLIE CLANCY
The death took place recently, in
Dublin, of Mrs. Teresa Fallon (nee
Slein). She was a native of Ballinafad,
Boyle, and was wife of Mr. Paddy
Fallon, a native of Corrigeenroe, Boyle,
well known in Cornhaltas circles.
A friend " L. McG" has written the
following appreciation:
" I read an extraordinary death notice
in the " Independent" one time , a few
years ago. A Carmelite priest phoned
the notice which stated: " Father X and
his brother and sister are so happy to
announce that their mother went to
Heaven last night and we bring her body
to the church this evening. Tomorrow
at 11 a.m. we w ill offer Mass to thank
the Lord for the wonderful gift He gave
us. Praise the Lord" . The quotation is
fairly accurately memorised , because it
madt: a lasting impression on how to
AW onderful Lady
accept death. As I stood at Teresa's
grave on a still peaceful morning the
memory came flooding back and
brought an inner peace to us. Teresa
was just a wonderful lady . One cannot
write volumnes to bear out the wealth
of her quiet kindness, her graceful
demeanour, her welcoming smile and
firm and loyal friendship , but for me
she will always be an example of what
can be accomplished , while remaining
as gentle as a dove and as cheerful as a
lark. The many causes she expoused,
the very many down·and·outs she
sought and helped along day after day,
the lonely people who could always rely
on her kindness and her company -
they will all miss her comforting and en·
couraging smile. Paddy will always
treasure these memories which made
their 33 years of marriage an example
of the way we all should live. In giving
Garret Barry. Garret was a travelling
piper who stayed overnight in the
homes of the people for whom he
played and next day he would be taken
in a horse·and·trap to his next destina·
tion. He was a frequent visitor to the
house in Islandbawn where Gilbert
Clancy was born. The blind piper took
a special interest in the young Gilbert
who was later to become a fine flute·
player, concertina player, singer and
father of Willie Clancy. Although
Garret Barry was 20 years dead when
Willie Clancy was born, the stories of
the blind piper and his music were part
of the Clancy household. Willie's first
contact with a 'real live piper' was when
he met J ohnny Doran in 1934. The
first notes from J ohnny Doran's chanter
would , according to Seamus
MacMathuna, "draw hundreds around
him in any village or town. Horses
stood unattended and even nagging
wives forgot their hurry under the spell
of his reelplaying". When he went to
Dublin in 1951, Willie joined the Leo
Rowsome Quartet with Sean Seery and
Tommy Reck. Three years later he
went to London where he found that
Irish music and musicians were held in
higher esteem in Cricklewood and
Camden Town than in Dublin "where
gombeen publicans were wont to show
the door to any musician who dared to
strike up a tune". But the fleadhanna
cheoil have changed all that and Willie
Clancy would be undoubtedly delighted
to see that piping is now stronger than
ever.
we receive. Christmas was a time when
Teresa "went to town" in her quiet un·
obtrusive way. Each year new "friends"
joined the queue. Nobody saw her list ,
but everyone knew her smile.
As a hostess she excelled in the Cead
Mile Failte given to all their friends be·
cause Teresa valued all their friends
highly. Her neighbours were with her,
night and day , attending her in her last
long illness. The doctors and nurses had
a model patient and as we knelt and said
the rosary at her bedside on the night
she died , we saw her smile , the one she
always gave when she opened her door
to her many friends.
So that Carmelite Father got it right.
His mother was a gift for whom he
thanked the Lord. Teresa Fallon has
left so many treasured memories to us
all and so we say Thanks for the
memory".
33

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Our Good Friend Criostoir
Dar le Darach
It's a generation ago since I first met Criost6ir 6 Cearnaigh. The place: The Tara
Irish Club the city-London. The hungry thirties had blown in with hunger
marches, unemployment, and low wages when you did have work. I was one of the
lucky ones; I had brothers there before me when I arrived in the big city.
The cflance of getting a job depended
on the good word in the right place.
When the day's work was done and the
worry of tomorrow was years ahead , the
only place was the "Tara." The Tara
was situated over Burtons, the drapers
in King Street, Hammersmith. It was
the Mecca of anyone with Irish blood
in their veins. There you would meet all
your friends and exchange the news
from home and give any news you had.
It was really home from home , and
many a tear was shed when long lost
brothers and sisters met, maybe for the
first time in years. The atmosphere was
truly Irish; there was no denying it.
You saw fine strapping fellows there
that only Irish blood could produce,
and as for the girls- well, you could bet
that there were no finer girls in Britain.
There was a Ceili every Saturday
night ; also one on Sunday evening. The
band on the rostrum was the one and
only Frank Lee's Tara Ceilf Band. I
think he was one of the first in England
to produce a Ceili record. I had all the
records he produced and right good
ones they are. When I left England I
left them all behind me , and sorry I am
that I did. The make up of the Band
was as follows at the piano was Frank
himself, and his signature tune, "The
Harp that once," was played by him on
all his records. The fiddles- Richie
and Paddy Tarrant from Cork . On the
piano accordeon was Jimmy Madigan,
who had a shop where you could buy all
Irish goods. Joe Hann on the piccolo
and Criost6ir helped sometimes on the
piccolo. I can't remember who played
the drums. It was the first cell{ band I
ever heard and I was delighted at the
way Irish music was presented to the
pUblic. I had been used to the strolling
fiddler or the odd melodeon player at
our ceilithe at home and the variety of
instruments playing together really took
my fancy. I could listen all night to the
harmony produced by them. Cr{ost6ir
really took my fancy with his trills and
triplets on the piccolo . Paddy Taylor
was there also with his concert flute and
on meeting him again at the Fleadh in
Thurles, I was delighted that he had
passed on to his son the gift that God
36
gave him.
HOLIDAY CAMP
But I am digressing. I meant to talk
about Criost6ir. I remember Good
Friday, 1937. A party of us Irish folk
took up walk ing sticks and headed for
the open road. We took a bus to Hemel
Hempstead, de-bussed and headed for
the Holiday camp in Flonden. I did not
know where it was but I followed the
leader. It was in March and right cold it
was too, and snow began to fall as we
arrived at our destination. We had a
goodly spate of musicians in the group
which consisted of 14 or 15 , both boys
and girls. We had a meal, then entered
the recreation room and Criost6ir was
elected Fear a 'T!. J im Magill took over
the piano, one of the girls borrowed a
fiddle from the resident band and the
music started.
Reels, jigs and hornpipes were the
order of the day. Criost6ir directed
that each Irish boy would take out an
English girl and each Irish girl would
take out an English boy . All of us knew
the figures and we put our English partners
through them and right well they
entered into the spirit of the dance. Before
we left they were well able to do
the dances.
As I said , it was Good Friday and we
started out for the local Church to do
the Stations of the Cross. I'm sure the
priest did not know what was happening
to see such a crowd arriving in the little
Church that could only hold a few
dozen . After leaving the Church we
headed for the local tavern , not for a
drink- I think most of us were nondrinkers-
but for a little diversion.
We arrived at the "Green Dragon"
and Criost6ir took out the piccolo and
started on the reels. The place was full
of the usual country yokels and when I
say yokels I mean it. They never head
such music in their miserable lives and
listened with awe to Criost6ir's rendering
of good Irish traditional music.
The music ·took over and the yokels forgot
their drinking so much that the publican
suggested to me that Criost6ir
would have to stop playing as he was
interfering with his trade. When Crlos-
, ,
CRIOSTOIR 0 CEARNAIGH
t6ir had finished with the piece I told
him what the publican had requested.
"As the place is dead ," said Crlost6ir,
" I think I'll play the Dead March in
Saul," which he did. Before we left we
all joined in si!1ging "0 ro se do bheatha
abhaile" and as it was the year in which
Hitler was making all the demands over
Europe they all thought we were
Germans. But we left no doubts in their
minds as to our nationality.
LITTLE IRISH OUTPOST
Criost6ir marshalled his little Irish
outpost and made for the Holiday
camp . It was a glorious night , the snow
crisp under our feet and I felt I could
walk for ever. The English holiday
makers were waiting with impatience to
start again on the Irish dancing and as
we got down to it the young hours of
the morning saw us hard at it. As I already
said , the weather was cold and
snow lay all around. The camps were
like snow houses and we shivered in our
bunks 'till morning. Billy Butler, from
Clonmel, said that he would leave on
his collar and tie to keep his tonsils
warm. When we were leaving the
English folk were genuinely sorry and
asked us to make reservations for the
coming Summer- they enjoyed the stay
so much that they , too , would book for
the same time.
Alas for our hopes. War loomed
ahead and in a short time all the world
was standing to armS. I had to return to
Ireland and left my dear friends under
the rain of bombs.
FLEADH IN CA V AN
Many years passed ; millions of men
died , but the love of Irish music still was
with me and my friends. How surprised
I was when one day at a Fleadh in
Cavan town I saw my bold Crlost6ir.
He was where I expected him to be- in
the vanguard of the traditionalists. He
had matured . When I say that I do not
mean that he had aged ; he had not.
Men like him do not age they die
young. There was a sort of mellowness
around him that lent him dignity . I
would have picked him out in any
crowd. " How are you, Crlost6ir?" I
enquired , as he threw his arms aro und
me and hugged me . He cou ld not speak
for emotion. The years had fled
backwards for both of us and we were
young again , striding in the crisp snow
of the soft Hertfordshire hills, planning
to put Irish traditional music where it is
now- in the hearts and minds of each
young Irish boy and girl.

more public, with special workshops
better advertised and perhaps even
touring the country.
State Co-ordinators need to be appointed
to foster "an awareness of what
the role of the folk arts is- I think we've
lost a little sense of direction." The role
of the Co-ordinator would be to arrange
Touring Circuits, develop artistes, communities
and composition.
Composition is to be helped in a
number of ways-one being Summer
Schools. This because" ..... the fine arts
have a system whereby products and
skills are honed. They have a system of
criticism and because they use their
skills to earn a living it becomes more
important that a person listens to any
criticism they can get. We have a
system of criticism that is silent. If you
are accepted you know about it. If
you're not, you're not too sure why.
No-one is game enough to tell you. So
you either go away and not improve, or
30
you stop altogether."
The Summer Schools would last perhaps
two weeks with a chance to return,
with part-time study and perhaps a
chance to develop projects.
HISTORY OF REVIVAL
Also of importance is a history of the
folk revival. "A lot of people are
oblivious as to who did what and why.
If they had a hisotry they might be
more aware of what the folk arts are
really about.
One project that has started is
Working Life Programme. Already
several folk artistes have been involved ;
Harry Robertson at the Chullora Workshops,
] udy Small in the Blue Mountains,
Lyell Sayer in Melbourne and
Roger Montgomery in W.A. These projects
are valuable "because not only is
that person getting a chance to hone
their sk ills, they are getting a chance to
share their sk ills" . They can make other
people in the place realise that " there is
a folk culture and that they have a co ntribution
to make to it. "
Being the first folk person on the
M usi c Board places great demands on
Phyl. As she says, " If I don't do a good
job they might never appoint another
folk person." Phyl has another 18
months left of her term, and then, as
she says, " there are other things I want
to do."
Phyl's role has been important in two
ways. Firstly in gaining bureaucratic acceptance
for the folk arts and also to stimulate
discussion amongst folk ies as to
where it is all going.
As she says, " I know a lot of people
don't want to open up the old chestnut
of what is folk art but I feel it is important
to keep talking about it because as
life changes, the role of the folk arts
changes, and its form changes."

Arts Rethink In Australia
This major change in policy occurred
after the first Hawke government was
ele cted . It became known that Mr.
Barry Cohen, the Minister for Environment
and Culture was interested in folk
music and so as Phyl says, "They just
approached the Minister and said ,
What about some more funds?' The
Minister said , 'I can't give you more
funds, the only thing I can do is try to
see that a folk person is appointed to
one of the Boards.' "
And so Phyl Lobi became a member
of the Music Board. " It was a bit of a
shock to their systems. I don't think
they would have thought of appointing
a folk person."
The Board consists of a musicologist
specialising in French 18th Century
music, an opera singer, a representative
of the Youth Orchestra, a violin teacher,
a jazz singer and a composer. Most of
them knew little about folk music.
"They would have thought of it as amateur
music." Phyl had to answer such
questions as, Why is punk music not
folk music? Why is rock music not
called the folk music of today? What is
Australian about the music? "These
questions showed that no , they didn't
think . we had a folk culture , especially
not a folk music culture."
One of her initial jobs on the Board
was to answer all these questions and
Phyl did this in her Folk Paper, a one
hour long presentation which included
so ng s entitled " Folk Culture in
Australia" . It is a definite look at which
is folk culture, its role in Australia and
its future .
The M usic Board members were " all
taken aback - they were expecting a five
minute paper on what folk music was
about. It changed their minds but not
entirely enough to recognise that it was
their place to fund it to the extent that
it deserved to be funded . But it
changed their minds to whether such a
folk culture existed."
28
THESE EXTRACTS FROM AN ARTICLE IN THE AUSTRALIAN FOLK
MAGAZINE "STRINGYBACK & GREENHIDE" ARE PUBLISHED WITHOUT
COMMENT. NONE IS NECESSARY!
The Australia Council was formed in the heady innovative days of the Whitlam
government. Its aim was to stimulate Australian culture and help remove the cultural
cringe. However , recognition for Australian folk music was slow coming.
Even as late as 1982-3 out of the Music Board's allocation of $9 .5 million, folk
music received only $10,000. Now, in 1985 things have changed. Phyl Lobi, folk
singer, song writer and educator is now a member of the Music Board and at last the
funding bodies are aware of the importance of the folk arts and prepared to fund
their survival and development.
NOEL HILL selects a tape from the
Comhaltas archives.
" And to a certain extent they were
right. It isn't just music. You can' t
take the music away from the poetry.
So , you need funding across all parts (of
the Australia Council.) A Folk Arts
Board is needed."
COMMUNITY MUSICIANS
On her fifteen months on the Board ,
Phyl has become aware of problems
facing folk music and its personalities.
For a start the Board likes to assess
the talents of the individuals it assists
and" .. . the talent of a folk musician is
not concentrated in the same area as an
art musician . The perception of material
is far more important in a folk music·
ian's talent than is the ability to sing or
to play. It is the ability to perceive
w hat is relevant to the fo lk culture , a
skill which takes a long time , and we all
still make mistakes in what we choose
to do , where and when we choose to do
it. It's apparent that where we ought to
be is no t where we are at the mo ment.
"The only way to get where we want
to be is to get the funding to do it. The
places that need folk musicians aren't
where they ex ist. Places like Tertiary
Institutions, and conservatoriums- training
people who will become musicians
in the community. They are totally unaware
of folk music and they are going
out sometimes, into communities that
are rich (in folklore) ... . and they are not
utilising those skills and experiences. In
places they are introducing music that
could submerge and drown the beginnings
of a revival of folk culture."
An area of conflict is the broad
policy to develop a multicultural
society. "The A ustralia Council says,
'Yes, we want to create an Australian
culture.' They don't realise that there
already is one. They see all the incoming
exotic cultures as a chance to have
one."
Phyl is aware of the problems involved
in only supporting her own culture
and she is aware of the possibility of be-

THE DREAM
OF A NATIVE
PEOPLE
Harry Munan
A short time ago I entered a neighbour's
house to find the inhabitants attentively
absorbirig a television documentary
on the Aborigines in Australia.
, Now, my views on the use of television
in the home and particularly at times
when the home is frequented by visitors
or " ceiliers" are a matter for another
discussion on another occasion, but in
this particular instance I was compelled
to lay aside my prejudices, not just because
of the lack of attention I was afforded
but by what struck me as a most
positive and informative documentary.
The programme dealt with the current
struggle by the Australian Aborigines to
revive their ancient native culture and
lifestyle against a background of being
" civilised and Europeanised" by white
settlers over the years.
The programme struck me as being
positive because the key figure, a local
priest in the particular locality being filmed
, came across very definitely as a
man of the earth, someone with a bit of
reality and a priest who could inspire an
atmosphere of Godliness while at the
same time taking to task the undercurrents
of pro-establishment bureaucracy
so often manifested by the clerical hierarchy
in situations like this where indigineous
people take a stand in defence
of their national dignity. Thf;! programme
was informative in that all the
way through I could denote parallels
with our own situation here in Irelandwhere
we are experiencing a continual
onslaught on our cultural distinctiveness
in the interests of "Europeanlsation"
with all its materialistic and ungodly
trappings.
For the moment the reverend
Father's name eludes me but one fundamental
phrase he used, for me anyhow,
highlighted the many-errors made
by us Christians in our attempts to
spread the word of God to other
peoples. "We tried to bring God to
them rather than make them aware of
God being already amongst them". In
following this philosophy we forced
upon native peoples a lifestyle alien ,to
26
them and indeed in my opinion
contrary to the wishes of Jesus Christ
when he bid his apostles "go teach all
nations". Surely a lifestyle and a culture
are God given gifts not to be eradicated
by man. To reinforce the view,
during the programme we were shown a
clip from a film made back in the 1950s
of a group of nuns demonstrating their
great success in dismantling the tribal
system in a small Australian community
and pointing out how well the children
of the community had grasped their
new language, English, When the
apostles spoke to the multitudes after
being sanctified by the holy spirit the
different races were able to hear them in
their respective tongues simultaneously.
Is this not an indication of God's desire
to maintain various distinctive cultures
amongst his people on earth.
In our own situation here in Ireland
as in Australia the campaign to maintain
cultural distinctiveness as a nation has
been sustained for generations, is being
sustained by the present generation and
will be so for generations yet to come.
What type of people devote their aspirations
to such a dream one might ask :
Well it is certainly not the purveyors of
materialism for in a native people it is
the spirit that bihds together not only
families but whole communities. The
spirit of belonging, of caring, the awareness
of being on this earth for a purpose
other than self elevation, the spirit of
contentment and fulfilment of living
one's life according to conscience.
It has been said that Ireland is a land
of causes but what cause is more noble
than maintaining one's identity, one's
existence as a distant person-undoubtedly
this is one reason why the cause of
cultural survival is so deeply rooted
amongst our people especially when the
very people who give allegiance to this
cause are themselves by and large deeply
conscious of their self respect. Such
people have principle and in pursuing
their cause they attract the respect of
others by their example of generosity,
endurance and belief in what some
might regard as a dream. In being generous
such people give themselves totally
to the cause, they endure endless disappointments,
cynicism and blatant opposition
but it is the dream that keeps
them going on. "Only when we stop
dreaming will our cause be lost",
Padraig Mac Piarias once said . Our
bodies can be broken but our dreams
will live forever fuelling the spirit, the
keystone of our cause.
Against this background and reflecting
on the theme of that documentary I
think I could safely assume that the
dreams of those Aborigines agitating for
their cultural rights have been dreamed
a hundred times over by our own people
here in Ireland.
Those very same dreams if allowed to
manifest their true potential could bring
a peace to our world a thousand times
more solemn than anything ever
envisaged by our world leaders in all
their deliberations and warmongering in
our present day materialistic and ungodly
society. Whether or not such a
harmonious world will ever come into
existence is beyond human comprehension
but then to this very day the vast
scientific resources available to man
cannot satisfactorily analyse and understand
the state of mind known as
dreaming.
Does it naturally follow that until
such time as dreaming is fully understood
all the dreamers of dreams
especially those who dream of their
existence in this world being accepted
by their fellow-man will remain ostracised
as subversives, fanatics and not
worthy of the so-called materialistic
Utopia, in which we are all compelled
to live , where the few feast while the
many hunger. Maybe if more were to
dream, however, that better harmonious
world could be brought a little bit closer
in our lifetime.

Clear The House For A Set
Clare sets have a long tradition.
They survived for generations through
the popularity of house dances in the
co unty, as did our music. These house
dances were lively and enjoyable affairs
an d were well organised. Preparations
go t under way by early afternoon. The
" house" was cleared. The kitchen was
always called the ' house' an d anyone
who mentioned a kitchen invariably put
in people's minds a small poky, shiny
workshop. But the spacious country
kitchen, with it s flagged floor, had the
status name of 'house' and to clear it
necessitated moving all movable
furniture into obscure corners. Space,
and plenty of it, was needed in the
middle. After that, seats had to be
placed all round by the walls. Long
"forms" were borrowed from the neighbours.
Chairs were awk ward and relegated
to the parlour for o ld ladies and
long lost friends, who would later gather
there for a seanchas in comfort. One
row of chairs was placed near the open
hearth. They were the reserved seats
for honoured guests and musicians.
Cranda usually presided over this 'cabinet'
and saw to their comforts. By
nightfall all was in order. A blazing turf
fire was the focal point. Lamps were
trimmed. The dresser gleamed and a
cosy ca lm prevailed before the hilarious
storm that was about to burst.
Old people came early , some of them
by nightfall. Visitors or relatives who
travelled a distance came for tea. The
dance was given in their honour, or they
provided the excuse for the dance anyway-
depending on which way you
liked to look at it. In Clare a dance
would begin at the drop of a hat, but
there always had to be a reaso n for it ,
however farfetched , to ensure respect
and appreciation for the function.
Invitations were usually issued to the
ladies and in this, too, there was a trace
of ceremony. It was deemed offensive
to pass on an invitation through someone
in the neighbourhood . A messenger
sent from the host to each household
for that specific purpose was appropriate,
or, if tinle permitted, a note
delivered by the postman. The men and
boys were free to come from far and
wide. Musicians, or ' players' as they
were called , received a special invitation
22
The late Paddy Corry of Co. Clare was one of the stalwarts of Comhaltas in the
'60s and '70s. His abiding love was set-dancing and he gave lectures and demonstrations
at many Comhaltas functions. The following reminiscences of his setdancing
days were ftrst published in TREOIR in 1970.
and, on arrival, were fussed over and
brought to the places of honour by the
fire .
FLAG OF THE FIRE
Dancing started early- all sets. There
was neither a "Walls of Limerick" not
an old-time waltz, and before the house
filled up the most senior citizens had
their fling. These were often the best
sets of the night, the most respected
dancers getting the flag of the fire to
stand on. There was good reason for
this, too. In the building of every house
an old iron po t was placed upsid e down
in the foundation beneath this flag ,
which was directly in front of the open
hearth. The 'flag of the fire' resounded
musically to the tapping of feet and
every learned dancer listened critically
for missed beats or dragging feet in the
slide-in. It took courage as well as skill
to take 'the flag of the fire. '
As the night progressed the young
people had their sway. Every set had
six figures, four of which were danced

THE BANKS OF KILREA
One evening for my recreation 1 wandered along the Bannside
THE BANKS OF KILREA: Ann e Bro lly
sa ng this o ne for us away back in 197 4.
There is a ve rsion in Hugh Shield 's book
'Sh amrock Rose & Thistle' .
Where a young man was courting his darling and he swears :he will make her his bride.
Where a young man was courting his darling and he gently intrigued her away
But said she 'I can't leave myoId parentsaU alone on the banks of Kilrea' .
One eve ning for my recreatio n
I wand ered alo ng the Bann sid e
Where a yo ung man was co urting his darling
And he swea rs he will make her hi s brid e.
Where a yo ung man was co urting his darling
And he ge ntly intrigued her away
Bu t sa id she 'I can't leave myoId parents
A 11 alone o n the banks of K ilrea· .
Oh darling, but don' t yo u re memb er
The fo nd vows that you made unto me
They were made in the mo nth of November
When I was thinking of crossing the sea.
It was then yo u wo uld not stay behind me
And yo u coaxed me a while for to stay
And yo u sa id , when the Spring was returning
Wc wo uld both leave th e bank s of K ilrea
But there's dange r in cross ing the ocean
There's great dange r in crossing the main
Sure there's dange r in crossing dee p waters
Therefore all of your coax ing's in vain
At my home I have both peace and plenty
And my rent I'm we ll above to pay
But I'm lead ing a li fe time of pleasure
All alone on the bank s of Kilrea
So farew ell to my co mrades for eve r
For its now I will la y down my pen
Here's a health to the bo nny Bann waters
And the girls all aro und th e Bridgend
Here's a health to my co mrades for ever
For its now I am go ing away
And I'll see yo u aga in , no, never
No more on the bank s of Kilrea.

Kilacloran was a name that to me
meant mountains and heather, primroses
and ferns, laughter and music ; and
the end of a story which I feel I now
must write- not about my uncle , but
about a gentle white-haired old man
who was the friend of so many Irish
children. I'm thinking that there must
still be many Irishmen in this country
today who remember Old J im the Piper,
for year in , year out, he walked all over
the South of Ireland playing his
weather-beaten bagpipes in the small
towns where he was greeted with
warmth and respect. And the people
who remember him didn't think it
strange or queer that Old J im had felt
obliged to leave his home in Kilkenny to
wander and play all over the country.
"Shure," they said, " when a man has
music in his heart, 'tis only natural he
should want to share it; and, besides,"
they said, " isn't he a walking saint to be
doing such a grand service in keeping
alive the old melodies of Ireland ."
How right they were, I thought; for
soon (so my sister mentioned in her
letter) the distinguished musicians of
Ireland would have a monument erected
over h is lonely grave.
OVER THE HILL
Maybe we saw him only two or three
times a year- I was so small I don't re·
member- but one thing was sure, when
the robin built her nest in the old iron
kettle that was stuck in a branch of the
hawthorn tree , we knew it was time to
start glancing up the long white granite
road . Sooner or later we'd see him
coming over the hill and with cries of
delight we would fly like the wind to
greet him . As we proudly escorted him
to our home he would tell the most
wonderful stories a child could wish to
hear.
I well remember the last time Old
Jim came walking down the road , in a
circle of laughing children. Mother was
all smiles too, because he was her own
special link with the Wicklow Mo un·
tains, and he wo uld have mu ch to tell
18
Old Jim The Piper
Maureen Kinsman
The letter from Ireland telling me of the death of my Uncle Luke came as no
surprise-he was very old and my sister had written to say he was dying. Yet
suddenly my heart seemed to be aching with memories of my childhood and I knew
that time and distance could never blot out the enchantment and happiness I had
known in Kilacloran, the lovely old house where my uncle had lived and died.
her about grandmother and Uncle
Luke. As usual, he would take an old
red or white handkerchief out of his
pocket, in which were a few crushed
primroses, or heather, picked from the
grounds of Kilacloran- her old home.
After a hot cup of tea and a " bite to
eat" he smiled and sa id , "Sure , M'am.
'tis happy I am to be able to tell you
that yo ur mother, God bless her, is still
hale and hearty, even if she is pushin'
eighty ; and the old house looked like a
fairyland of appleblossoms nestled in
th e lovely mountains. Why' the sight of
them , so tall and blue, always see med to
light en my step and tug at my hea rt."
Sighing, as though th e memory mad e
him homesick, he sa id , "As I walk all

5
aol nua, a mhaoineach. Saol nua
ar fad ata anois ann. Oiche
Shamhna, mar shompla - nach
beag i suim na ndaoine inti na
laethanta seo. Bionn spraoi ag
na leanai fos ar ndoigh, agus an bairin
breac agus na hulla agus na cnonna - on
iasacht - a n-ithe acu . Ach ca bhfaighfea
cailin a rachadh amach i ndorchadas
na · h-oi che chun f{achaint isteach i
dtinll - da mbeadh a leitheid le fail
aici - no i linn uisce, agus i ag suil le
haghaidh an te a phosfaidh si a fheiceail.
Agus i dtaca leis an bPuca de! Daldaghdai!
Bheadh na leanai ag gairi [Ut da
luafa a ainm.
Ach eist liom anois. N iorbh aon
chuis ghaire e an Puca ceanna sin. Agus
ar mhaithe lea siud nach eol doibh
moran mar gheall air, abroidh me cupla
focal faoi. Capall mar dubh ba ea e -
capall si, ar ndoigh - a bhiodh ar fan ar
fud na tuaithe ar an oiche airithe sin.
Ba dhiol trua e an te a bhuailfeadh leis,
faoi mar a fuair mo sheanathair fein,
Tadhg b Criogain, amach.
Bhi an fear bocht, trocaire De air,
amuigh ag cuairtiocht, mar a deirirnid,
Oiche Shamhna amhain, agus bhi se
deanach go maith nuair a thug se
aghaidh ar a theach fein. Bhi an ghealach
ina sui, rud a chuir lithas air mar
ghabh se congar an chnoic, agus ba
gharbh contuirteach an bealach e, go
mar mar san oiche.
N iorbh fhada ag sild e nuair a chuala
se an choischeirn taobh thiar de. B' ait
leis sin , mar nior shil se go mbeadh
duine ar bith eile ach e rein amhain ag
gabhail an chongair sin ar a shli abhaile.
D'fheach se ar a chul agus chonaic fear
mar dughnuiseach ag teacht suas le is.
Stop se, agus nuair a th:iinig an fear fad
leis ba leir do nach duine da chomharsan
a na da lucht aithintis a bhi ann.
Ach bheannaigh se go seirnh do mar sin
fein. Thug an strainseir comaoin na
beannachta do chomh seirnh ceanna
agus shiuil siad ar aghaidh le cois a
cheile.
Cibe rud a tharla ansin - ni raibh
Tadhg in ann e a mhiniu go sasuil
riamh - chuir se cos leis i bpoll agus thit
beal faoi ar an talamh. Agus nuair
deirigh se agus thug faoin siul ads, fuair
se amach go raibh murnan leonta aige,
slan mar a n-instear .e. B'in mar a bhi
aige ansin - e ansiud ar thaobh an
chnoic i lar na hoiche, agus gan ann an
chos sin a leagan ar an talamh. Agus
14
Aire Duit Olche Shamhna
Mairtin 0 Corbui
nach e a bhi buioch de Dhia go raibh
companach aige, ma ba strainseir fein e
nach raibh eolas na aithne aige air.
"Nil ach rud amhain le deanamh
anois," arsa an fear dubh. "Tairnse mor
laidir. Togfaidh me ar mo dhroim thu
mar sin agus tabharfaidh me abhaile tu."
" M aise, nach tu ata cmealta, "arsa
mo sheanathair. "Is eagal liom nach
bhfuil aon leigheas eile ar an sceal."
"Ach rud amhain," a deir an fear eile
eile - "na cuir miog na giog asat fad a
bheidh me dod' iompar, no caithfidh me
ar an talamh thu, agus ma bhionn ort
dui abhaile ar do ghluine ni chuirfidh se
sin as domsa."
"Ta go maith," a deir Tadhg, "ni
bheidh focal asam."
L
eis sin chrom an strainseir, agus 0
ba fhear beag eadrom an seanleaid,
d'eirigh leis dui in airde ar a
dhroim agus ar aghaidh leo. Ach
chomh cinnte is ta eireaball ar
chat, ni raibh ach leathdhosaen ceim
tugtha ag an bhfear mar nuair a stop se,
bhain searradh as fein, agus thosaigh ag
bualadh a choise ar an talamh. Agus i
bhfaiteadh na sui ba leir do Thadhg
nach ar dhroim fir a bhi se ar chor ar
bith, ach e ag marcaiocht ar chapall mar
dubh. Agus nuair a thug. se chun cuimh·
ne gur Oiche Sharnhna a bhi ann bhi a
fhios aige gur gafa ag an bPuca a bhi se.
Ar eigean an t-eolas sin aige Mach , nuair
a chaith an cap all boc1eim, agus as go
brach leis sna feiriglinnte trasna na
gcnoc.
Agus Tadhg ar a chiall aris rinne se
iarracht e fein a chaithearnh de dhroim
an Phuca, ach bhi fuar aige. Ni thiocfadh
leis mear hiirnhe no coise a
bhogadh. Ni fheadfadh se rud ar bith a
dheanamh ach sui mar a raibh se, an
ghaoth ag feadail ina chluasa, agus an
t-allas fuar ag puscadh as gach orlach da
chraiceann. Agus iad ag scuabadh lea
chun cinn, thar chreag is thar log, tri
sceacha is driseoga, i gcoinne an aird
agus le fana talun - an Puca ag trasnu
sruthain agus ballai agus c1aiocha mar
rudai nach raibh ann ar chor ar bith -

Joe O'Dowd, Sligo Fiddler
Dr. Edward O. Henry, San Diego State University CA 92182
Driving into Sligo from Manorhamilton, the rolling hills gave way to a valley
with forested slopes and farmed bottom, its roughly rectangular green and gold
patches separated by tree-lined lanes. A stream widened into the shimmering
Glencar Lake and the slopes grew into low mountains that opened to the sea, the
pregnant silhouette of Benbulben to the right and across from it, the towering
green Killogyboy, dotted with distant sheep. Then the town's narrow streets
and a brick bridge with cloth-capped old men, a swan serene on the stream with
a cathedral spire behind. A hand-lettered poster on a telephone pole in the busy
town centre announced an Irish music session at the Sligo United Trades Club on
Castle Street that night. That's where we met fiddler Joe O'Dowd.
Joe O'Dowd was born into a musical,
family in 1914 at Knocknaska, Gurteen,
about twenty miles from Sligo city in
County Sligo. His older brother, who
died a few years ago in New York,
helped him start with the fiddle, when
he was twelve or thirteen. Joe's uncle,
John O'Dowd (who died in the early
years of this century) had been a widely
recognised fiddler and had two
well-known reels called after him :
"O'Dowd's Favourite," recorded by
Michael Coleman in the 1920s and the
other "O'Dowd's Number Nine," later
recorded by Hugh Gillespie.
When J oe began to play, only a
limited number of people admired the
music and would travel to hear it;
people are more interested in hearing
and learning the music today. The
music was played chiefly at social gatherings
in country homes and the
musicians were not compensated. ("If
you got a cup of tea you were lucky.")
J oe looked forward to such occasions in
part because he could learn a few things
by watching the musicians. Later, he
was a fan of Michael Colemans, and, as
J oe always played by ear, and could
pick up a tune quickly, he learned a
good deal of his music by listening to
Coleman's records. Coleman and Joe
came from the same part of County
Sligo.
As a young man Joe had no job,
except helping out on his father's small
farm . So when he was asked by a promoter
to perform at the Garryowen
Club in Hammersmith, London, he decided
to have a go at it. It was to be his
first job as a professional musician.
The band in which he played there
from about 1935 to 1940 included
Martin Wynne on fiddle; Paddy Taylor
(of Limerick) on flute; a man who
12
played tenor saxophone (for waltzes) as
well as flute and piccolo; one who
played alto saxophone as well as fiddle ;
a piano player ; and a drummer.
Referred to as a ceili and old time band,
they played to crowds of several
hundred dancers on Wednesday nights
and up to six hundred on Saturday and
Sunday nights- usually more women
than men, with quite a number of Irish
nurses, Joe recalls. The band also did
some radio broadcasting. Most of the
tunes they played are those currently
played in the Sligo Comhaltas sessions
(see below).
With the onset of the war J oe returned
to Ireland. In 1942 he began working
for Irish Life Assurance Company in
Ballymote, some miles south of Sligo
city. He · was transferred to S'ligo in
1948, but didn't play much in public
until 1954, when he started the Owenmore
Ceil{ Band. (Owenmore is the
name of a river in County Sligo). In
that band besides J oe were Henry
Dwyer and Paddy McDonagh (fiddle);
Thomas Collis (flute); Jerry Fallon and
Thomas O'Dowd (accordian); Michael
Feeney (piano); and John ScanIon
(drums). The band travelled aorund the
country a good bit, playing eight-hand
and four-hand dances as well as the old
time waltzes to crowds of several hundred
in the parochial halls. (A band
which includes two of the original members,
Henry Dwyre and Thomas Collis,
may be heard on the LP recorrlcalled
The Owenmore Ceili Band, Harp
Records HPE 662, distributed by Pickwick
Records Ltd. of Dublin).
Joe continued working as a life
insurance salesman through this period­
"Music was a good side line," With the
waning of the ceili band era the band
stopped playing in 1965. The Irish
JOEO'DOWD
music scene shifted to the pubs- prior
to that there hadn't been much music
played in pubs or cabarets.
J oe plays today for dancing contests
as he has for some twenty years . He
also judges at music contests in England
and Ireland and is a central figure in the
Sligo branch of Comhaltas Ceolt6irl
Eireann. Comhaltas is a nation-wide organisation
dedicated to the support of
traditional Irish music, with branches in
many other countries.
The Sligo branch of Comhaltas
started around 1958. Joe tells how at
first there was much emphasis on
organisation and procedures; it subsequently
lapsed for a few years. But
with the leadership and labour of J oe
and another musician; Ms. Carmel
Gunning., it restarted in 1973. One of
Comhaltas institutions is a nationwide
system of contests. J oe notes that contest
judges anywhere tend not to be universally
admired for their decisionsthere
may be a tendency to favour
popular styles and to award previous
winners. But whether the talk is bad or
good, the talk itself is a sign of interest
and activity.
The Sligo branch of Comhaltas meets
each Tuesday at the Sligo United Trades
Club on Castle street, and in the
summer of 1984 was also playing one

"Did you ever eat Colcannon when
'twas made with thickened cream,
and the greens and scallions
mingled like a picture in a dream.
Did you ever make a hole on top
to hold the melting lake of the
heather-flavoured butter that
your mother used to make?
Oh, you did, so you did! So did he
and so did I,
and the more I think about it sure
the nearer I'm to cry,
Oh, hadn't we the happy times
when troubles we knew not and
our mother made colcannon in the
little skillet pot".
'Tis well I remember Sean Og 0
Tuama singing that song by my persvnal
memories of our Irish Traditional
Cookery only go as far back as a grand·
aunt of my own who used to make her
4
As Things Were Then
Kay Sheehy
brown bread in the pot oven on the
open fire. There were still a few places,
in my childhood, where the stove hadn't
yet been installed, and where we used
sit in the chimney corner and "blow"
the fan which turned the turf to a glowing
red and where we watched the fire
being lifted with a tongs onto the lid of
the pot oven after the big cake of bread
had been laid inside.
In my time electricity was making its
appearance in many houses and others
had the big black ranges with the polished
metal trim which had to be black·
leaded and emery-papered to keep them
clean and shining- hard work they were ,
but in the days before television we sat
round them at night with our faces
roasted from the heat they threw out as
we listened to old men and women tell
stories of how things were in their
youth.
Memories! When you start to think
back isn't it funny the things you re ­
member? Do you remember being sent
down to the local shop for bread? It
was always wrapped for us in sheets of
brown tissue paper then. Did you ever
slip your fingers under the soft brown
wrapping and peel strips of bread off
the loaf on your way home? There was
a great flavour from the turnover, es·
pecially if it was hot from the bakery.
Did you ever get a clip on the ear when
you got home and it was found that
you'd eaten the whole centre out of the
same turnover and there was nothing
left for the rest of them but the crisp
crust?
" The greatest thing since the sliced
pan!" How often we say that. Bread
wasn't ever sliced in my childhood. In
fact white bread wasn't even white. Can
you remember the excitement when

A Quest For The Perfect Whistle
Pat O'Riordan pictured above at a
recent Fleadh Nua in the Banner
County is an instrument maker who has
come home to his roots, musically . His
west Limerick parents moved to
Coventry back in 1922, but he adds, "of
course I had the experience of holidays
every summer in Foynes when I was
growing up".
Apprenticed to trade as a toolmaker,
he did "what every youngster did then,
I lied about my age and joined the
Royal Navy" . Following time in service,
he enrolled in a draughtsman's
training fellowship which eventually led
to an engineering career in the United
States with the R.E .A. Magnet Wire
Company of Fort Wayne , Indiana.
Having a successfu vocation in engineering,
the youthful grandfather of fiftyeight
years of age has not failed to cultivate
the music in his soul with an advocation
towards instrument making.
"This is where my original apprenticeship
has served me well. It is those skills
that I learned as an apprentice long ago
that I am putting to use now in my instrument
making".
Being a resident of the United States
and being situated well within the abundant
Appalacian Mountain Radio signal
belt, Pat began his hobby of instrument
making by constru