After a relatively smooth (and surprisingly non-tedious) 10 hour coach trip up to Glasgow on the 17th Jan, I arrived at the beautiful Royal Festival Hall, where the majority of the festival events take place. I was blown away by how luxurious everything was - it felt like half- folk festival half- spa trip at times (except for the lack of sleep and plenitude of alcohol). I arrived just in time to catch the end of the Danny Kyle Open Stage opening night, where my harpist friend Harriet, a winner last year, played a set. I shall be reviewing Harriet's new album soon, so watch this space. I was immediately in heaven as we were regaled with three young bagpipers, replete with synchronised leg-kicks and other sassy moves not usually associated with kilted pipers. But it certainly worked!
The rushing-around-like-a-headless-chicken-but-in-a-euphoric-state that was to last for my entire time at the festival kicked in straightaway as I left the Festival Hall for the first official gig of my stay -Flook and Damien Dempsey at the ABC theatre, a good 10 minutes away. I was more excited about this gig than any of the others, mainly because I adore Damien Dempsey, and doesn't tour much around the UK (at least not when I've been looking). I rate him as one of the most powerful singer songwriters for decades - his voice and songs send shivers down my spine, and I really admire his strong political messages about the Irish/Celtic people and about his own past, but also the notes of courage and optimism there. Well, the gig was even better than I could ever have expected - he kicked off with the astonishing 'Masai' from his latest album which I haven't yet heard. The notes soared high around our ears, and the backing band were absolutely electrifying. I was totally hypnotised for the entire time he was on stage. I was so thrilled that he performed 'Colony', which I view as his most powerful song. I can tell I'm rambling already... Needless to say, it was hard for poor Flook to follow such an act, but they were extremely enjoyable. I saw Damien at the bar later at the Festival Club, but I lacked the courage to go and speak to him. I think it was for the best though, heaven only knows what gibberish I would have spouted.
The next day I went along to the arcade to see Harriet play a few songs to raise publicity for the Festival - it was amazing how many Glaswegians have no idea the festival even exists. Later that night was the Lewis and Harris night, which I had been eagerly anticipating, as it has been far too long since I've heard any live Gaelic singing. I was especially looking forward to seeing two of the singers there, Margaret Stewart and Christine Primrose (who I did a brief singing workshop with at the Sabhal Mor Ostaig in Skye two years ago). The night was fantastic, with some young MOD singers there as well, a piper, and a few lads from Harris who write their own material. There was a lovely mix of songs and styles and performance lineups, though it was very much all a collaborative effort, as it often is in the wonderful world of folk. I nearly died of excitement when the whole group sang a Gaelic psalm (which sounds like nothing else in the world), as I've always wanted to hear one sung live.
After the gig me and Harriet went to the ceilidh - I was so tired by this point and didn't think I'd be able to dance, but I threw myself into it and, as is the way with ceilidhs, got so into it that the late hour and lack of energy and immense sweatiness didn't bother me (hmmm, might have bothered other people though...) We met some funny Spanish guys and a lovely Scottish girl, and we all danced together for the dances and messed around and had fun (and crashed into a lot of serious dancers due to the tiny size of the dancefloor, oops!)
On Saturday I had booked myself in for a couple of workshops during the day, so first up was a whistle workshop - I had never played before, but by the end of the hour and a half we were all playing a lovely tune together. I'm always berating myself for not playing an instrument, having criminally given up the violin as a child, so it was nice to merely nod towards instrumental proficency again. That evening was the magnificent 'Travellers' concert, held in the fantastic setting of St Andrews in the Square, a converted church. This concert showcased four travellers of rich heritage (I'm sure one of them was Lizzie Higgins' daughter). The night consisted of them each telling a story or singing a song, and there was a real sense of privilege about the occasion. These people are of a generation that had unprecedented access to a world now long gone, and it was such a great opportunity to hear their fantastically weatherbeaten voices and witness their wit, humour and knowledge. Lovely as it would have been to see Lisa Knapp and Bellowhead (whose performances clashed with this gig), I made the decision to see the Travellers instead as it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. As it happened, fate was on my side - a girl, a friend of one of the travellers, got up at the end to sing a Gaelic song. As I listened, it occured to me that this was a song I had once heard Julie Fowlis sing at the Sabhal Mor Ostaig, but had never caught the name of. Since then, a couple of years now, I had desperately searched to find out what it was so I could learn it, but in vain. I waited until the end of the gig and trhen literally pounced on the poor girl, who, it turned out, was only too happy to chat away, and we ended up walking through Glasgow together. She told me that the name of the song was 'Nuair a Rainig Mi'm Bhaile', and I now finally have that gorgeous song tucked securely under my belt. It's possibly the most beautiful Gaelic song I've ver heard, and it seems to strike a chord with everyone, although I haven't heard any recordings of it (but I know Flora MacNeill did one). It's about a man returning home to find his love dead or dying, and he laments that they ever met. He calls her 'my long straight tree' and describes her lying below the window unable to hear what he is saying. I must stop now before I start filling up...
Sunday kicked off with a Gaelic song workshop, which I had been really looking forward to, as I feel like I don't get the chance to sing in or hear Gaelic anywhere near enough! There was a good turnout, and most of the people there had never sung before, let alone in Gaelic, so I had a rather unfair advantage as it meant I already knew the songs the teacher had chosen for us! It was a set of three puirt a beul, 'S ann an Ile', another whose name escapes me, and 'Ruighleadh mo nigheann donn'. When the teacher first sang them at a good speed as a set the general feeling seemed to be 'I could never learn that!!' but the thing with puirt a beul is that they are deceptively simple - well, apart from the few that are *really* wicked, that is... Sure enough, by the end of the hour we were all in perfect unison! I followed that workshop with another, this time on the Scots Big Ballads, led by Gordeanna McCullough. Again, it was a lovely friendly group, and we all looked at a Child Ballad and talked about how we would approach it as singers - ie whether to replace words for scansion's sake, etc. It was a different approach than I was expecting (ie more talking than singing) but it was actually really helpful as it made me think about how much 'work' to do before learning a song - although of course another argument would be that the songs are for the people, not scholars, so just pitch in and sing in whatever way feels right! But it was useful to consider really trying to turn a song over and over in your mind, and let it live with you a little while before it gets a public airing - I think there is definitely something to be said for that.
The final gig of the night was Scottish Political Songs, held in the fantasticaly intimate venue of The Universal Club on Sauchiehall Lane (which, may I add, took me a devil of a time to find, and so I missed the first half an hour). There were three singers, including the fantastic Anne Lorne Gillies, and the night was every bit as rousing and impassioned as I imagined (and, thankfully, not half so anti-Sassenach as I was fearing) It was quite sad in a way that Anne, who sang entirely in Gaelic, was making a point about the political potential of the Gaelic language for Scots, but I, probably the only Sassenach in the room, was the only other one who could sing along. I got some funny glances...but what's new there?! Anne sang some stormers, including 'Clo Mic Ille Mhicheil' 'Dh'eirich mi moch maduinn Cheitinn' and a Mairi Mor nan Oran song. The other two singers were fantastic too, and there were a good few Hamish Henderson songs! It was a really emotional way to end my festival experience....Or did it end there?? Meeting up with Harriet again later, we ended up at the Festival Club, not really expecting to stay long as we had to be up at 6:30 or so the next morning. I was homesick for the Half Moon, and keen to go along to the 'House of Song' session which I'd heard about, an open session held in a little room just off the Club bar. It was slow getting started, but when it did, what a session was had! Harriet played some fantastic harp tunes and I sang a few songs - rather reluctantly actually, as there were so many fantastic singers there that it was mightily offputting! There was some fantastic stepdancing from a Cape Breton man, and later we were joined by some young Scottish lads who looked as 'unfolky' as they come but turned out to be absolutely in love with it! They were shy at first but then a few of them sang some Gaelic songs and were amazing! It was so heartening that young teenagers from Glasgow were learning to speak and sing in Gaelic entirely independently, and thought it was cool. The lads were joined by some female friends later, one of whom had the voice of an angel; it was at that point that I stoutly refused to sing another note! Harriet and I stayed until 4ish (so respectable even by Half Moon standards!) and it was one of the absolute highlights of the entire festival.
The 6:30am start the next day, and the 10 hour coach trip home, was not quite so enjoyable however...
Here endeth the (rather mammoth) account of my Celtic Connections experience! You can watch some fantastic highlights at:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/scotland/music/celticconnections/tv/
My personal favourites are Griogar Labhruidh and Lisa Knapp's performances (which slightly make up for not being able to be at either of them) - and watch this space, as reviews of both their albums will be up and around here soon. Now, roll on next January...
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