| c o l u m n s |
|
Sean Cameron
Pub Rock
Although billowing smoke and pints of Guinness were conspicuously absent from the
Prism Coffeehouse on Saturday night, the boisterous music of Paddy Keenan brought
more than a nip of the Irish to the diminutive confines, treating the capacity crowd to a
healthy taste of the motherland.
The Prism brings traditional Irish music to Charlottesville on a fairly regular basis, and I
had the good fortune to catch an impassioned performance by singer Sean Keene in
January. Accompanied by my stalwart sidekick Danny Boy (no, I'm not making this up),
we vowed not to miss the next show. Although not Irish (we're actually Scots), we greatly
appreciated the uncompromising authenticity and vitality of the music. In a town with a
distressingly stagnant rock scene (with the exception of Tokyo Rose, of course), traditional
Irish music proves a revitalizing anodyne to the night-life blahs. Fueled by an excellent
dinner courtesy Danny Boy's mother, and hyped up on Murphy's Irish Stout, we were
fully prepared for a festive evening.
Paddy Keenan is a world renowned virtuoso of the uileane pipes, considered one of the
most difficult traditional instruments to play. It is blown not with the mouth, but with a
bellows underneath the arm. In the words of announcer Fred Boyce, it allows the player
"to talk, smoke and tell stories," like any good Irishman. In this respect, Keenan did not
disappoint, rattling off anecdotes about the songs with self-deprecating humor. The sound
elicited from the pipe is as complex as the instrument itself, pumping out three tones at
once. There is a continuous underlying drone while regulators allow Keenan to play chords
and a melody line. The overall quality is distinctive and foreign, haunting and joyous. It is
the sound of an old drunk who yelps, coughs, laughs, spits, and dances -- put to music.
The sheer amount of sound culled from the pipes is breathtaking, as Keenan expertly
weaves intricate layers of resonant tones and wildly quick and expressive notes. Often, the
songs would begin with a single drone, akin to feedback from an electric guitar, before
being tautly whipped into a cohesive structure.
The performance opened with Keenan accompanied by Nigel Stevens on guitar. They
began with a traditional jig, and the interplay of the warm chord progression and the
maniacal notes summoned from Keenan's pipes got the audience suitably riled up. People
stamped emphatically on the floor, chugging along as if at a punk rock show.
He followed with crowd-pleasing, fist-pumping anthems for most of the evening,
interwoven with the occasional dirge. For one such tune, the mysterious Keenan, his face
obscured by the shadow of his hat and long hair, switched to the flute. The somber,
plaintive lines led to a layer of guitar, and finally the wail of the pipes. Though a lament,
the rapturous notes sliced through to the emotional core, sounding strange, yet naturally
recognizable. In physical appearance and style Keenan is like the Irish Dickie Betts,
fingering intricate lines of notes without disregarding the passion and sentiment of the
song.
By the end of the evening, the pair was joined by a banjo, mandolin, flute and violin. The
crowd stomped, clapped, and hooted, which I found astounding considering the maturity
of the audience. But traditional Irish music has the same dialectic found in all kick ass
rock -- a joining of spirited cacophony and lush tunefulness. But perhaps most important is
the honesty in the music, and Keenan rocked the house with unique Irish flair.
In keeping with the Prism's atmosphere, Keenan and the band drank Irish coffee, jokingly
referred to as "half and half." By the end, the boys looked thirsty for a few beers, which
probably explains why you write the check directly to Paddy himself when purchasing his
CD. But even without the requisite draughts, Keenan kept the spirit of Ireland intact with
his wonderfully evocative music.
In another Prism coup, the venue is sponsoring a St. Patrick's Day performance by
Dervish at the Jefferson Theatre. Dervish is currently Ireland's most popular traditional
band, boasting six of the country's most talented players and singers. But remember to
indulge beforehand to get in the appropriate celebratory mood -- something tells me that the
snack bar won't be serving up large Irish whiskeys...
|
back to Decweb main |
Sean Cameron is five hundred word boy.