I'm a party animal, I guess. Today there were three events I tried to get to: the once-monthly Hibernian Hall session in Watertown, a house session in Cambridge, and a playoffs/birthday party in Brookline. I couldn't quite squeeze all three into the afternoon, despite my noble intentions, but I did manage to get to the Watertown session and the Brookline party.
I'm so glad I made it to the Hibernian Hall, because Dennis Galvin was there with a group of his young students. What a joy to see and hear these kids play their fiddles - a delight - taking me back to the days when my son Jonathan and I were studying violin on the Cape with Miss Sykes (taking the ferry over from the island every week), and my life was a steady stream of little kids and violins. How wonderful to see the music being passed to the next generation, and how lucky these kids are to be learning the music at a young age - though they don't know it yet, of course. I told Braden, age eleven, since I only started playing this music one year ago, "You've got a fifty-year head start on me." Hearing the children play was a treat, an honor, really.
I thought the attendance would be low due to the big Pats/Jets game scheduled to kick off at 4:30, but clearly football is not a priority with this crowd, as the hall was filled with musicians, dancers, families, and children of all ages (and the game would not have been a draw for me either had it not also been the birthday party of a friend).
It occurs to me that a People that makes music and dances together stands as good a chance as any, as a culture, to survive - probably more so. Let's throw staying in touch with its children in there, too.
Fiona, Braden, and Brigitte, with Billy in the background.
Fiona
Fiona and Braden.
Dierdre
Frank and Flan.
Dennis, Billy, and Braden.
Frank, Tom, and Mike.
Tom and Frank.
Connie, (Dennis, hidden), Billy, Braden, and Brigitte.
Glad to be having two weeks in a row off from my travels, and how could I resist another opportunity to get over to the Greenbriar. I amuse myself in thinking I'm now a regular over there, but realize this is only a temporary state of affairs since I will be back on my regular commuting schedule next week. I do love this place, though, and the people - at least one of whom I've known for thirty years, a few I've only come to know in the past year from this and various other venues, and many who now seem like old friends even though my attendance here is sporadic. I enjoy the slow session - and continue to realize that even though I do spend time playing at home on my own (which sometimes feels like practicing, which I'm not crazy about), it is in the context of playing in the group, even tunes I don't even realize I know - stretching myself beyond my comfort level (quietly, so as not to annoy if I really don't have a clue; not so quietly as the tune begins to take shape) - it is in this context that I make the most progress, especially with the subtleties of the rhythms, the heart of the music. I was complimented in my bouzouki playing last night, for playing it softly, though interestingly, I am focusing more and more on fiddle and feel less need to play back-up, especially if there are other back-ups playing. I cringe when I think of how little I knew in the beginning. I expect that I will someday cringe again, realizing how little I knew in January of 2011.
I do love that big table in the front room/regular session, the way it fills up and pulses with music and life, and have started to understand the scheme of things. And while I do appreciate the slow pace of the early session, there's something wonderful about the way the fast pace of the regular session forces me to even more deeply engage with the music. I especially love the way that table feels like a family, and the way that Larry obviously cares about each person there.
I also had the pleasure of Wynter's company last night. I had been working on "her" College Groves, so I had her on my mind when my phone rang, and it was she, inquiring as to whether I was going to the Briar, so it worked out that we ended up traveling together. (And later in the evening when Larry invited Wynter to play a tune and The College Groves was her choice, I think she looked to me to play along - oops, did I mention that I just barely began learning this tune? - sorry, no help at all, which turned out to be of no consequence really, as she played it brilliantly, mostly solo, and to everyone's delight).
Maybe I've mentioned this, but this blog combines the two biggest loves of my life: music and photography; three, actually, if you count writing, though I've been way off of long writing projects for a while now - thanks to eight very recent years of school - with no real desire (yet) to get back to any in-depth writing projects.
My fourth night out in a row. Not bad for this grandma. A good circle of musicians tonight, though we are missing Sean, who is in Ireland at the moment. (And I wonder if he's at some pub in Ireland, thinking of us and singing, "Missing you, all for the price of a flight.") Also, Cormac and Alex have not yet returned from their travels abroad. Still, for a cold January night, there was a good crowd - a nice mix of regulars, folks who knew each other from other venues, and folks meeting for the first time. Good to have David back among us, as well.
All shot with G12 on Low Light setting, mostly at ISO 3200, though a couple were shot at 6400.
Jon, David, Liam, Chris.
Jon, David, Liam.
And daddy won't you take me back to Muhlenberg County
Down by the Green River where Paradise lay
Well, I'm sorry my son, but you're too late in asking
I had been wanting to get down to Laura and Stuart's session in Norwell for a while, so a nudge from Laura, coupled with my diminished travel schedule this week, was enough to divert me from my usual Wednesdays at Tommy Doyle's routine. A rumor that David might be in attendance was also a motivating factor.
I don't mind driving, and actually enjoy the adventure of looking for new places. I had certainly heard of Norwell, and have driven past the Norwell/Hanover exit on Rt. 3 many times, but had never actually been there, so I was not sure what to expect. As far as I knew, Norwell was some small town, of no particular note, tucked into the hinterlands south of Boston. I was pleasantly surprised to find the exit (15/Rt. 53) come up much more quickly than I had anticipated, and figured the rest of the drive would be a piece of cake - which turned out to be not exactly the truth. Most people in 2011 would have Google-mapped the directions prior to leaving home, but I guess I'm stuck back in the twentieth-century because my style is more along the lines of: 1. Drive until I get to a sign for Norwell; 2. Keep driving until I come to Main Street; 3. Continue on until I see something that looks like there might be Irish music going on inside.
Okay, it didn't turn out to be exactly that easy - the center of Norwell was not immediately obvious and did require some searching and patience and trust on my part: searching that involved one wrong turn and a little back-tracking, patience to just keep driving down what seemed like a road to nowhere with a dearth of signage, and trust that I would eventually end up in Norwell and that its Main Street would figure prominently in the geography - which all did happen, eventually (yeah, yeah, yeah - I've got a couple of maps in the front pocket of my car, but that would have taken all the fun out). The fact that there were no numbers displayed on the buildings did not make my search any easier (I just love the small-town mentality that assumes you live there and know where you are), but when something - my inner GPS that is often right-on - told me to pull over at the Dunkin' Donuts to inquire as to what number Main Street we were at and the young lady at the counter said, "707," it was definitely one of those "bingo" moments, as that was the exact number I was looking for (I tried this method for finding my d-i-l's apartment in the East Village once, figuring I'd just turn left off of Rt. 95 someplace. It didn't work so well that time, however.).
Lovely session with some of my favorite people - Laura, Stuart, Eric, and David - and made a few new friends as well, including Paul, Peter, Judy, Jack, Stephen, and a banjo player whose name I missed.
As I have come to expect from the Irish pub, The Tinker's Son was quite dark (and why, oh why, do all sessions seem to be relegated to that cold corner next to the door?), so the photography was challenging, to say the least. The G12's Low-Light setting did come through for me (though I so much prefer being able to shoot in RAW/manual - I definitely see either a 5D MarkII or 7D in my future) - though these over-processed JPGs do leave a bit to be desired. But who knows, maybe this style will be the Polaroids (now collector's items) of the future.
Anyway, this was a sweet little pub - great music and treasured friends in a homey atmosphere - let's just call it craic, shall we - and now I know where Norwell is. Hey, I've even been there.
Boys of Ballysdore/Swallowtail/Trim the Velvet (reels).
Pipe on the Hob/Rose in the Heather/Sixpenny Money (jigs).
Ivory Flute/Humours of Ballyloughlin/Choice Wife (a/k/a An Phis Fhliuch)(jigs/slip jig).
Ran out of memory on this one - damn!
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."
