This week I took a vacation from my Monday and Tuesday job down on the island so I was able to attend one of my favorite sessions, Monday night at the Greenbriar: Slow session from 7-9; big boy session from 9-11 (or so).
Last night Brian's grandpa Frank was the star of the evening - well, even more so than usual, since it was his 85th birthday. A number of family members were on hand, including Brian (natch), and Brian's brother Brendan and sister Siobhan; his Aunt Mary and her son Andrew, and Frank's wife - whose name may be Kathleen because Frank sang I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen - but I'm not sure (this just in: yes, grandma's name is Kathleen - I'm a genius). One thing I need to start doing is pay more attention to names. I love Brian's family - his is just the kind of family I have always wished I came from - and it's being surrounded by these families, and being a part of the session family at large that is the most fantastic thing about this music; thank God for these people and this music.
I used a combination of the 40D with 50mm/1.4 (good for low light, though with its shallow depth of field and narrow view due to small sensor it functions more as a telephoto lens, so is a bit limited for indoor/small spaces, but works if I can work the room), and the G12. The G12 is pretty decent for low light, and gives me a wider angle, also HD video. I am learning a lot as I go along, both about shooting in these low light situations, as well as post-processing. There's also the issue of being torn between wanting to play the music and take photos. I wonder, sometimes, how people feel about my camera(s), but I noticed last night there were many cameras in the house. I think that eventually everyone will be accustomed to the fact that I often have a camera with me.
Enough chit-chat.
Above, Frank sings I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen, to his bride, Kathleen; also, the Birthday Song, by the Company.
Frank reacts to being sung to by the slow session crowd.
Jack sang a rousing song that had us knocking on tables and shouting, "McIntyre!"
My friend Bob Brogan whom I've known since the 80's on the island - we were mere kids - when he was a crew member of the Shenandoah and playing his fiddle at the local ag fair fiddle contest.
Kathleen and Frank (sorry for shallow depth of field). Larry Reynolds and Tara - dynamic duo.
Brian, with his grandma and grandpa.
The lovebirds.
Brian, Andrew, Grandma, Brendan, and Grandpa.
Mary sings for her parents.
Terry, Larry, and Tara provide back-up. Tony and Bill
Jimmy Marshall
Delia, listening to her husband singing a rollicking version of
Maids When You're Young Never Marry an Old Man:
For he's got no faloodorum, fadidle di dorum
For he's got no faloodoorum, fadidle day
He's got no faloorum,he's lost his ding dorum
So maids when you're young, never wed an old man
Kathleen's secret to living a long and healthy life is "to keep moving, never stop."
I was already planning on going to the session at The Littlest Bar on Saturday night, but a text I received from a session mate Saturday afternoon sealed the deal: "Littlest is gonna be leanin' heavy and should be totally off the feckin' charts..." I supposed at first that "leanin' heavy" must have meant there would be a large crowd, but now understand that this was a reference to the musician heavy-weights who would be in attendance. Having also received a text advising that the Locals would be playing at nearby Mr. Dooleys, I was happy to break free from my shackles and jump aboard the Green Line, inbound from Coolidge Corner, for a downtown Saturday night out.
The last time I went to Littlest I transferred to the Blue Line and got off at State Street, since it appeared to be the T-stop closest to the bar. This time I decided to walk from Park Street, thinking that the time lost while waiting for the connecting train is about equal to the time it takes to walk a few extra blocks. Besides, I love to walk and I was in the mood for taking in the sights and sounds of the people-filled holiday-season streets of Downtown Boston.
I wasn't exactly sure how to find my way from Park Street, though, and ended up on a somewhat meandering path down Tremont towards Government Center, and then turning right, where I discovered, and saw for the first time in my life, Old City Hall, which was quite grand; lovely, all lit up with Christmas lights.
As I continued to wander through the windy canyons of Boston's financial district - somewhat randomly, in the direction (I hoped) of Broad Street - suddenly I heard what sounded like someone calling my name. I ignored it at first, thinking I was hearing things - certainly nobody in that neighborhood knew me - but I did turn to see, sure enough, Levi - a fiddler I know from Tommy Doyle's - coming up behind me, waving, also on his way to Littlest. This was quite fun to come across someone I knew in the middle of this totally foreign neighborhood. Not to mention, a bit of a relief to have a tall, strong traveling companion through the now-dark city streets.
Levi and I found our way together to Mr. Dooley's - a wonderful, family-style Irish pub. Really, this was such a wonderful atmosphere. People were relaxed and happy and seemed to know each other, and there were even a few children in attendance. Laura and Cormac and Brian sounded great, too; a great combo of voices, whistle, fiddle, and guitar. Eventually, Eric turned up. A funny thought that crossed my mind at the time was, how did my life turn out this way - that at age sixty I would be traipsing through the streets of Boston, bouzouki on my back and fiddle in hand, running into barroom buddies in the middle of nowhere, and also even happening to know someone sitting at the bar (Eric) at an Irish pub I'd never been to in my life? Life is just so, well, interesting. The only downside was, somehow I managed to lose my Charlie Card. Mysteriously, it fell out of my mitten somewhere between Park Street and Mr. Dooley's. I say mysteriously because I double and triple-checked - there was no escape route from that mitten. A drag, especially because I had recently put $20 on it.
Regardless - it was a great night for Irish music in Boston.
Mr. Dooley's
The Locals: Cormac, Laura, Brian.
Steve Earl's Galway Girl
The Littlest Bar
The Littlest Bar: Cormac - fiddler/surfer dude from Dublin; Tara - button accordion; Eric - flute; Brendan Bulger - host fiddler; Larry Reynolds - fiddle; Sean - fiddle; Greg - mando, whistle, and tenor guitar.
The Littlest Bar is actually not very little, though the corner where the session is held is a bit cramped, and delightfully so. This was my second time at The Littlest, and as much as I enjoy it, I don't feel as at home there as I do with the folks I play with regularly every week. There seems to be a different sub-set of tunes, for one thing, many that I've never heard before. There weren't many tunes I could play on my fiddle, proportionately, compared to other sessions I've been to, so I mostly played my bouzouki. I was happy to be the only chordal instrument in the house (for a change), though I tried not to abuse the privilege. At times it was quite enjoyable to just sit back and listen, especially when only the fiddles were being played. And yes, the heavy-hitters were in attendance and the music was brilliant.
Greg; Tony - bodhran.
Laura, right, has dropped in after her gig at Dooley's.
All shot with the G12; still getting to know this little camera and its capabilities. I tried the Low Light setting tonight. This setting doesn't offer much more than my usual Manual/RAW settings, but with no RAW capabilities, and no control of settings, with tiny files, to boot - yes, a little less noise, but I can reduce noise in post-processing in LightRoom, so I think I'll just stick to shooting Manual/RAW, 3200 ISO. I suppose I could have adjusted the WB in the color shots from The Littlest, cooled them down a little, but I rather like the warm pre-Christmas glow.
Jack sang a rousing song that had us knocking on tables and shouting, "McIntyre!"
