Teatime Session!

Twelve weeks without a Ballydehob session! Are we all getting rusty, frustrated and tetchy? Session regulars Dick Miles (English concertina), Tim Keddle (banjo) and myself (Robert Harris) realised we can get together within the current lockdown restrictions: all of us live within a radius of 5km, and can meet out-of-doors, provided we maintain ‘social distancing’. So we gathered yesterday afternoon, for tea and music. Our backdrop was Roaringwater Bay, and the O’Mahony stronghold of Rossbrin Castle. The north wind was strong, cold and noisy – and our neighbouring farmer was spreading slurry on the adjacent field: everything was grand! I was the cameraman and sound engineer, but couldn’t resist joining in the first medley on my anglo concertina – Jenny Lind Polka and The Girl I Left Behind Me:

 

We often start the Ballydehob Session on a Friday night with this set, as it’s a good one for ‘loosening up’ and tuning in to each other. It’s a misconception that these are English tunes: they both have a broad spectrum across the range of musical traditions. Jenny Lind was composed by Anton Wallerstein (1813-1892) around 1840, and celebrated Johanna Maria Lind (1820 – 1887), a Swedish opera singer, often called the Swedish Nightingale, who became famous across the world. The German tune seeped in to the traditions of the Shetlands and North America, as well as Ireland and England. I discovered more written about this tune than any other I have researched so far, presumably because of the widespread fame of Lind herself. The Girl I Left Behind Me also has a long and complex history. It’s said to have originated in Elizabethan England, but turned up in America in 1650. The song first appeared in print in a collection The Charms of Melody, Dublin, Ireland dated 1791:

. . . All the dames of France are fond and free
And Flemish lips are really willing
Very soft the maids of Italy
And Spanish eyes are so thrilling

Still, although I bask beneath their smile,
Their charms will fail to bind me
And my heart falls back to Erin’s isle
To the girl I left behind me . . .

Everything I recorded in our impromptu Teatime Session is unedited and unrehearsed. What you see is what you get – so please excuse imperfections! Here’s a typical routine of Dick and Tim agreeing what to play and how to start it . . .

Here’s this polka set as it was played (you might hear the wind, the tractor and the choughs calling overhead!) – The Waterford, Tom Sullivan’s and Neili’s Polka:

We always have a song or two in our Ballydehob Sessions. I requested Dick to sing one of my favourites – Just As The Tide was Flowing:

 

To finish off for today here’s another polka set – Tim and Dick are playing Padraig O’Keefe’s, Nell Fahey’s and Little Diamond:

It’s relevant, perhaps, that I’m publishing this on a Friday – which would normally be our session day! Perhaps it won’t be too long, now, before we are all back together?

Jigs and Polkas

More tunes from the fiddle of Robin Lewando; he is serving us well! First an image:

This is a famous representation by Albrecht Dürer (1471 – 1528) of ‘Irish Gallowglasses and Peasants’. It was long thought that Dürer had seen this group of Irish characters while visiting Antwerp in 1521, but recent research at UCC has established that the painter worked only from a visual description supplied by a traveller who in 1518 had been swept off course by a storm and landed in Kinsale! The traveller – Laurent Vital – was secretary to Archduke Ferdinand, teenage brother of Charles V, who had recently been crowned king of Spain. The royal party spent three pleasant days in Kinsale and Vital’s diary recorded in fine detail much of what they saw, including the Gallowglasses (elite mercenary warriors – on the left in Dürer’s picture). The whole incident was the subject of a study and lecture at UCC, which our Robin attended. He has therefore recorded two jigs for us – The Catholic Boy and The Gallowglass Jig:

 

We are not too far from the Sliabh Luachra region – on the borders of Cork and Kerry Counties, although we are unable to go there at present because of the Covid19 travel restrictions. Robin brings the Sliabh Luachra to us, however, with some popular polkas from the area – Mrs Ryan’s, Campdown Ladies, and gan ainm (learned from the box playing of Paudie O’Connor):

 

Campdown Ladies (also know as Camptown Races) was learned from the playing of Johnny O’Leary (1923 – 2004), who was from Maulykeavane, in the heart of the Sliabh Luachra –

. . . It is an area that has surely produced more musicians for its size and population than any other part of Ireland. Johnny played with them all, learning tunes and passing on tunes and creating with his fellow musicians an unequalled tradition of music-making . . .

He started playing the melodeon at the age of five and in his lifetime assimilated well over 1,500 tunes, adding to numerous collections.

Notes from Norway!

Well, actually, the musical notes are from Sweden! But they have been sent in by Bryony Harris, who lives in Norway. Bryony and I were very actively involved in the British folk music revival of the 1970s, and now, in our later lives, have both joined other musical cultures. As well as two great tunes, Bryony has given us some comprehensive notes about them, which I quote below. Here’s the first – Donats glömda polska:

 

And the second – Johan vals:

 

Bryony writes:

. . . During lockdown here in Norway I have had plenty of opportunity to learn some new tunes on both fiddle and whistle. Here are a couple of them, from the Swedish tradition. Although they are actually fiddle tunes, I don’t ever feel truly confident playing my fiddle (taken up very late in life) on my own – so you will have to make do with the whistle!

In true Swedish tradition one always introduces a tune naming the fiddler whose playing one has learnt the tune from. I have learnt these 2 tunes from the playing of the excellent Swedish trio, Björnlert Hedin Pekkari who play music from Southern Sweden (look for them on Spotify and Youtube).  They play fiddle and viol d’amore, nyckelharpa and double row melodeon. If you don’t know the nyckelharpa, look it up. It looks like a cross between a fiddle and a crocodile and sounds wonderful.

[Editor: I couldn’t resist putting a picture of a nyckelharpa (courtesy Bengt Nyman from Vaxholm) at the top of this post. It so exactly fits Bryony’s description!]

The first tune is Donats glömda polska, which literally means the Forgotten Donat Polska (the Swedish ‘polska’ is not to be confused with ‘polka’ which is quite different). They have the tune from the notebooks of the Swedish musician and composer, Sven Donat (1755-1815).  Here is a video of Johan Hedin playing this tune on the nyckelharpa and explaining how it got its name . . .

. . . The second tune is called Johan vals (waltz) also from Björnlert Hedin Pekkari. I’m afraid I can’t find anything about it, but it’s another beautiful tune. Here is the waltz played by Pelle Björnlert, Johan Hedin and Erik Pekkari . . .

Many thanks, Bryony, for broadening our horizons! In the past, Ballydehob has had musical visitors from Scandinavia during the annual Fastnet Maritime and Folk Festival, which normally takes place in June. Sadly, this year’s festival has had to be cancelled because of the Coronavirus restrictions.

Stouke Tunes

Oliver and Susan Nares – who live in our neighbouring townland of Stouke – have played for us before (here and here), and embellished Susie’s post with two of Oliver’s wonderful photographs ‘of the music’. Two more tracks from them today. Firstly, Ollie plays a pair of tunes on his Eric Martin Cajun-style melodeon (listen out for those sonorous deep bass notes):

 

The first tune is one I always called LNB Polka, although I have never seen an explanation for that name. In fact it’s a barn-dance rather than a polka (the lines are blurred depending how you play it) and the real name is La Roulante. It was written by Jean Blanchard (b 1948), a musician, collector and scholar of traditional French music from the Massif Centrale and Auvergne regions. He is best known as an expert on the Cornemuse (French bagpipes), but an equally brilliant performer on the Accordéon Diatonique (that’s a French-tuned melodeon). Often played very fast (perhaps too fast!) this tune should have a steady tempo to suit a barn dance – Ollie’s pace is ideal. I first heard the tune played by the ‘folk fringe’ group Blowzabella in the 1970s, learned it then, and passed it on to Ollie…

Jean Blanchard back in the French festival days (left) and today (right)

Ollie follows the French piece with one which hales from the Orkney Islands – Jimmy Garson’s March. This is a great tune and there are many ways of playing it: as a straight march which is in the Scottish pipe band repertoire, or with syncopation – quite what that turns it into, I’m not really sure!

Today, Susie is treating us to a fine slip jig with Cork connections on her harp – Drops of Brandy:

Some sources suggest this is a Scottish tune, but it is in fact in O’Neill’s collection ‘The Dance Music of Ireland – 1001 Gems’ (number 448). It is also known as Cork Fancy.

Many thanks to the Nares of Stouke for these.

Authentic Folk

John Adey and Penny Avant have recorded two folk songs for us. John has visited us in Ballydehob and played his English concertina at our Session here. He is equally good on guitar, and accompanies the two of them singing on this first track – More Than Enough:

 

Written by Robb Johnson (b 1955), who has correctly been described as “one of the last genuinely political songwriters”: his prolific opus of songs makes us feel uncomfortable – as we should – about the state of our world. I believe that this dates from the 1990s and was specifically a protest against the closure of children’s nurseries in England. The last verse sums it up – and the sentiment is as relevant today – a quarter of a century later – as it ever was:

…Consider how little of life that we know
You bring nothing, take nothing, pass through, and go
We’re all of us poor when it comes to the night
Afraid of the darkness, in need of the light
If we’d learn to want less and love more
There’d be enough for the poor

If we’d learn to want less and love more
There’d be enough for the poor
Cause there’s more than enough for us all…

John Adey – who hales from Mexborough – a former industrial town in South Yorkshire (in fact the home of the concertina quartet we featured in our very first post) – sings solo on our second track, another ‘true’ working people’s folk song known as The Walling Song:

 

This is a great song about rural life based on a poem by Keith Scowcroft from Bury, formerly part of Lancashire but now soaked up into Greater Manchester. The tune was added by Derek Gifford and included in a cassette recording – When All Men Sing – released in 1989. Since that time this affecting air has been so absorbed into the folk genre that many people have announced it as a ‘traditional’ piece. In fact, John himself learned it from a traditional Yorkshire singer – Will Noble – who is also a stone waller.

Many thanks to Penny and John for enriching our pages with these gems!

Traditional stone walling in the Dales at Malham, Yorkshire – Photo by Finola Finlay

PS It’s a small world! , Derek Gifford founded the once legendary Dicconson Arms Folk Club at the aptly named Dangerous Corner, Wrightington, Lancashire. The club ran through the late 70s and early 80s becoming one of the foremost folk venues in the North-West of England, hosting national guest appearances. A specific mention is made in their annals of a regular guest, Dick Miles – now heading up our Ballydehob Sessions!

Music For Our Times

This is a Swantonstown Sessions ‘one-off’. I’m putting up a link to a continuing project set up by Music Networks in Ireland to commission new works in all genres, including traditional music. Here’s a track of a piece written by the brilliant concertina player (and traditional dancer) Caitlín Nic Gabhann – a slow march called An Ciúnas (Stillness). It’s played by Caitlín on Anglo concertina with Ciarán Ó Maonaigh on the fiddle:

Great music! And a wonderful enterprise to help players who are losing out at this time because of the Covid19 restrictions. Three time All-Ireland champion on concertina, Caitlín would normally be a regular performer at festivals and in concert halls across the world. From a strong family musical background, and writing tunes since the age of ten, Caitlín gained first class honours at both University College Cork and Trinity College Dublin.

She Moved Through the Fair

One of the great Irish airs played for us on the whistle by Ballydehob Session regular Swithun Goodbody – She Moved Through the Fair:

 

The beautiful tune is well known as a song, and has a complicated history, involving various claims as to its composition. The song tells the story of two lovers who meet at the fair:

. . . The narrator sees his lover move away from him through the fair, after telling him that since her family will approve, “it will not be long, love, till our wedding day”. She returns as a ghost at night, and repeats the words “it will not be long, love, till our wedding day”, intimating her own tragic death (possibly at the hands of her disapproving family), as well as the couple’s potential reunion in the afterlife . . .

It’s a haunting song, and a haunted story. The melody is almost unworldly, and has been described as ‘Eastern’ in tone.

The Co Longford poet Padraic Colum (1881 – 1972) claimed to have written the majority of the words, having heard a traditional singer reciting one verse. This was challenged in a lengthy correspondence in the Irish Times in 1970 when collector Proinsias Ó Conluain (1919 – 2013), said he had recorded a song called “She Went Through the Fair”, given to him by an elderly singer who had learned it as a young man from a basket-weaver in Glenavy, Co Antrim.

In my opinion by far the best rendering of this song is by Margaret Barry (1917 – 1998) – top photo, who features in a Roaringwater Journal post here. When Margaret was once asked where she had got this song (presumably by someone hoping to sort out the controversy) she explained that she had learned it from a recording by Count John McCormack, made in the 1940s! I can’t resist sharing with you one of Margaret’s versions of the song, recorded in the mid 1950s:

Thank you, Swithun, for allowing me to expand on one of my favourite folk singers, but also providing us with these further fine tunes, on the fiddle: – Only Our Rivers Run Free by Mickey MacConnell (of Co Fermanagh, Dublin and Co Kerry), followed by another version of O’Carolan’s Sí Bheag Sí Mhór.

 

As an encore we have from Swithun a great jig which always goes with a swing – Smash the Windows (also known as Roaring Jelly):

 

Remembering Derek…

Derek Hare (above) born November 1925, died Easter 2018″…playing music to the end…”

Derek was a stalwart member of the Ballydehob Sessions, ever since he arrived in West Cork in 1990. He was brought up in Scotland (where he spoke Scots Gaelic), and lived in Norfolk, Hampshire and Leicester before coming to Ireland. But he had many adventures in between. He was in the armed forces in Word War II, serving in Finland and N Norway. During a period in Winterton, Norfolk, he met up with Bob Roberts (who owned and skippered the last commercial sailing barge to trade in the UK) and Sam Larner, both of whom were involved in a lively traditional music scene in East Anglia. Derek had many stories to tell about that particular period in his life, and his own adventures in traditional music.

Bob Roberts (left) at the wheel of his Thames Sailing Barge Cambria (peter Kennedy Collection), and (right) Sam Larner’s Topic album recorded in 1958

As a little Sessions project I would like to invite all Ballydehob Session members (or anyone else who knew Derek in his lifetime) to contribute something to these pages. Either tunes that you know he played or liked, or any stories about him. Please send them in and we’ll put up a future post featuring them.

I’m kicking off with two waltzes which I often heard him play in our sessions: The Marino Waltz – composed by John Sheahan of The Dubliners and (Derek’s own favourite) Margarets’ Waltz – composed by Pat Shuldham Shaw. I’m playing them in G at a reasonably sedate 100 BPM – good for dancing to!

It’s Spring – Look Out For The Bluebells!

Finola Finlay took this photo only the other day on the Greenmount Road, near Ballydehob!

With the Covid19 lockdown upon us, it’s sometimes hard to remember that the natural world carries on regardless. Cathy Cook has brought some fresh air and spring sunshine with two tunes on this Facebook link – The Grassy Path and The Bluebells are Blooming:

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10220313864770876&id=1056804853

Both of these jigs were written by Michael Dwyer, who was born near Ardgroom on the Beara Peninsula, West Cork, in 1942 – one of a family of nine children whose father, John Dwyer, played accordion and fiddle while his mother, Kathleen Mc Carthy, (whose family came from Skibbereen) played accordion and sang. The family therefore grew up steeped in the musical traditions of Cork and Kerry. Michael became an All-Ireland champion tin whistle player, but was also a prolific composer. His twenties were spent in London where he met and played with every well-known Irish musician in that vibrant scene, and absorbed their music. Michael returned home to the Beara when his father died in 1972.

…While in London  Michael would have been walking along the street … “humming away and composing to himself”. Back at home, he often walked the roads of the locality especially those between Ardgroom and Castletown. He saw the beauty in nature and felt the rhythm of the natural world like others could not. To him it was as if the rocks and heather, the streams and ferns, nestled between mountain and sea were like a fairy land that lightened his step as he strode along … How could a man with music in his heart not share it?

(These extracts are from an extensive biography of Michael Dwyer on the Irish Tune Composers site)

…Michael was a typical Munster style player, and the jigs and reels which were his favourites were played alongside hornpipes, slow airs, polkas, slides and set dances. After returning from England he was a regular session player in the Beara region and in his own words, always willing to “go for a tune”. He would sometimes play at home and take the opportunity to play in many different keys for his own enjoyment. Even though he never taught formally, and could not read music he sometimes gave lessons on a one to one basis especially in his aunt’s house in Castletown. Even though he could be regarded as a quiet man he was very fond of company and was never shy about playing…

 …Michael Dwyer was drowned in Ardgroom harbour on the 9th of June 1997. He was only 55 years of age. His family and close friends still mourn his loss. He was buried in Eyeries cemetery on a calm June morning. By the graveside his good friend Joe Burke played the haunting slow air Sean O Duibhir an ghleanna (John O’Dwyer of the glen). You could hear the strains of the accordion dance their way across the “Green fields of Beara” and melt into the broad Atlantic…

Thank you, Cathy, for taking us on this little journey through our beautiful landscapes and musical traditions.

History and Landscape, Ardgroom, Beara Peninsula

A Halfpenny for a Jig…

A pair of jigs from Robin Lewando. The first is called Wild One and was written by Mer Boel from Ithica, New York, as a ‘contra dance’. What is a contra dance? I found this definition in the newsletter of the Santa Barbara Country Dance Society and I take no responsibility for it whatsoever!

…English country dancing gained a certain legitimacy in the 17th century … The French, who thought that they invented country dancing (as well as anything else culturally significant), and who were miffed at the notion that the English should receive credit for anything, converted the name ‘country dance’ to French contredans (which conveniently translates as ‘opposites dance’), then turned around and claimed that the English term was a corruption of the French! Later, the French term evolved in the USA into contra dance

I am sure you are all much the wiser! But it’s a terrific tune, so why should we worry?

Robin follows this with another fine jig – The Mad Jig, also known as Pat Mahon’s. Give them a listen:

 

Robin has usefully given us the following background to The Mad Jig, gleaned from the excellent website The Session:

…This tune was composed by the blacksmith, John Mosey McGinley, who travelled throughout Donegal. Paddy’s father Denis heard both John Mosey and his brother Paddy play. John Mosey, who was born in 1840 and died early in this century, sold secondhand clothes from a horse and cart. He taught fiddle tunes at the following rates: two pence for a hornpipe, a penny for a reel and a halfpenny for a jig, highland, march or mazurka. The title was given by a key figure in the musical and social life of Teelin, Mickey Golly (Gallagher), an accordion player who died in 1986…

How wonderful to now have the relative value of our Irish tunes enumerated. The pic at the top, by the way, is a rendering of Tartini’s Dream, by Louis Léopold Boilly (1761 –1845). One night, composer Giuseppe Tartini dreamed that the devil appeared before him and offered his services, and so Tartini ordered him to play on the violin. It was such an exquisitely beautiful solo it took Tartini’s breath away. Upon awakening, he feverishly tried to transcribe what he experienced in his dream. The piece is now his best known work: the Devil’s Trill Sonata. It is an enduringly difficult piece. It was rumoured Tartini had an extra finger on his left hand to allow him to play the piece…

Just how many fingers do you have, Robin? You do all know, I’m sure, that the fiddle is the Devil’s instrument?