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Trip to Tom Cussen’s Clareen Banjos

Yesterday we all went to Tom Cussen’s shop in in Clarinbridge in Galway. He has a very nice business and a truly fine banjo he builds. He told us to arrive at 3:00 ish and when we got there he was working with a young woman on a banjo sale. She was there with her Dad and Grandfather who was the one buying it for her. When Tom helped her with the fitting of the strap she played part of a tune and it was clear this young woman was already a fine player at 15 and she’d only been playing it for two years. Such is the level of playing in Ireland. Tom told us as good a banjo player as he is he’d be lucky to place twelfth in any contest these days. Tom took us through his shop and showed us his operation. I was interviewing him for GAL and recorded the entire interview in the Roland to send to Tim. Tom gave us a copy of his band’s CD and a few others for our show and invited us to a session on the 16th when we’ll be back in the area.

We went back to Kilshanny House to a local session and met David Levine again. It was quite laid back, too laid back and we were all tired and the pace of the session didn’t help, so after a couple of hours we took our leave and said goodbye and went home to sleep.

Today we drove down to the Beara peninsula in Kerry. The drive was long but not at all unpleasant. I drove most of the way down and got a pretty good feel for driving on the left side again. We stopped in Killarney and walked through part of the town, which is pretty good sized. Found a music store and picked up a CD at a small music shop. Went to a nice bistro and had coffee and scones with cream and raspberry jam. Yum!

We’re in Lauragh in a nice little cottage. Went down to a small pub on the bay and ordered a fresh salmon plate which was fresh and very tasty. When we finished dinner we asked the proprietress if she’d mind us playing some music and she was fine with that. We set up and started and the locals were very receptive. We knew they were pleased when the waitress brought out pints that were unasked for. Jack spoke with her at the end of the evening and she said come back tomorrow night, come back every night. One couple from Dublin who live in Manhattan were really complementary, and another couple from Mayo said that we’d go over well there as well. We’ re kind of amazed with our reception and gratified as well. A great fun evening.”

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Last Night’s Fun

Well, after a day and a half in Ireland we’ve already had some great adventures. After arriving at Shannon and driving up to our rental near Doolin we picked up our dear friend Jack Lindberg in town and headed to McGann’s Pub and had a pint and a meal and listened to a fine banjo player with a few friends. Next day we drove into Ennistymon and thence to meet a new friend named Dave Levine an ex pat who is a fine flute and concertina player. We met him at Kilshanny House pub and played some fine tunes and some fine Guinness poured by the proprietor Aidan.

As we were leaving David came back in to tellus that there was Thursday night session in Miltown Malbay at Cleary’s Pub known by the locals as The Blondes. Being of brave heart we went in the door with our instruments and received a greeting from the proprietor Bridie of ” Oh Jesus , we have our own musicians”.  Undaunted we ordered 5 pints and about that time the local musicians started coming in and graciously made room for us. It turned out that Jack had met Jessie the banjo player some years back. Jack couldn’t remember at first but Jessie has a fine memory and eventually they established the connection. The pub is a classic local hang out, but unique in that there re older folks; women in their Sunday dresses and gents in their nice clothes lined up along the wall on built in benches with tiny tables, all there to listen AND join in. Several of them such as Con and his wife and another well known gent all sang songs old style, unaccompanied. Great stuff, great feeling and I’d say about 40 people all wedged into a space the size of an average house living room. The feeling regarding our being there felt a bit tight until John turned around and asked me if I’d sing a song. I nervously started Peggy Gordon and by the first verse half the room was singing along. I had goose bumps along with the sweat and the song was well received.

After that things loosened up an we were deemed fine lads. We were asked to do some more songs which  did and by the end of the evening Bridie had poured us extra pints and wanted us to stick around for another. We had to drive a few miles up the coast so declined. “Where are you driving to?” she asked, and we told her – 12 miles up the coast. “Jesus and God Almighty, you’re not going tonight are ye?!”. But the feeling of being welcome to return was apparent and we felt that we had made friends. I can’t express how warm and open the folks here become once you get to know them a bit. (Rick)

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The Cliffs of Moher and the gift from the fairies…

So we’re walking along the cliffs, taking advantage of the one sunny day, and having a jolly old time, when suddenly Morgan shouts “it’s a sign!” We turn around, and there in his hand is, I kid you not, a golden crowbar, on top of a rock wall. Well ok, not golden. Yellow paint. But still, can you believe it!?

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For those of you for whom this story makes no sense, here’s the legend of the Gold Ring, told by Seamus Ennis:

‘ “The Gold Ring” – there’s a story attached to the name. A long, long time ago – if I were there then, I wouldn’t be there now; if I were there then and now, I would have a new story or an old story, or I might have no story at all – the birds could talk, giants roamed the land, and fairy music filled the air. There was a farmer, and he was walking across the fields one night, when he heard the faint strains of music in the distance. Moving closer, he saw a fairy piper playing a fairy dance. But when the fairies sensed his presence, they scattered into the woods and vanished into the earth. The farmer went up to the place where the piper had played and there he found a tiny gold ring lying on the ground. So he put it in his pocket, carried it home, and took out his fiddle to celebrate his good fortune with a few reels. But when he put the bow across the strings, he couldn’t get a decent sound of it at all, save for the scratching of an old key in an old lock. And no matter how much he played that fiddle, not a note could he get out of it.

So the next night, he returned with the ring and his fiddle to the place where he had found the fairies, and he waited and he waited. And just as the first glimmer of dawn appeared over the eastern sky, he heard the faint rustle of soft feet on golden leaves. When he turned around, he came face to face with the fairy piper.

“I’ve come for what is mine,” says the piper. “For if truth be told, I can’t play a slide or a jig or a reel without that ring.” “You can have it and welcome,” said the farmer. “For if truth be told, I can’t play a slide or a jig or a reel with it.” And he tossed the ring back, and took out his fiddle, and played the finest reel of his life. And the fairy piper picks up the ring, and takes out his pipes, and plays the finest jig that human ears had ever heard. “Would you ever be after teaching me that tune?” asked the farmer. “I would so,” says the fairy piper, and they sat down together until the farmer had it. “And what would it be called?” asked the farmer. “The Gold Ring,” says the fairy piper, disappearing into the half-light of dawn.’

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Welcome to West Clare

The Cliffs of Moher

We arrived safe and sound at Shannon airport last night after eighteen hours of flights, and rented a car, a process which took almost as long as the flight over here. We met Bridie, the owner of the very, very nice property where we’ll be staying for the next three days. We had dinner, beef stew and fish and chips, yum, and fresh pints of Guiness at McGann’s in Doolin. Right after dinner, a session got started with Kevin Griffin on banjo and a couple of fine fiddlers. This is a regular gig for them so we just sat outside with our pints and listened until the jetlag got the better of us. The view from the front door of our well-apointed manor is of the Aran islands, and Galway Bay to the north…but this is what we awoke to this morning. A little mist off the bog. Still, undaunted – no, actually we CAME for this, so bring it on, weather gods – we had a fry-up and then called Davy, a friend of Becky (a flute-player who lives in Mt Vernon, WA) and he very kindly agreed to meet us in his local, the Kilshanny House, for a quick pint and a few tunes. He’s a fine, fine flute and concertina player, and we had a nice hour together before he had to go home to milk the sheep or whatever. Just before he left, he told us about a session in Miltown Malbay (I’m loving this – every town has a tune or three named after it; we’re here at the Cliffs of Moher, down the road from Lisdoonvarna, etc, etc) tonight, so we’re off to that after a quick stew cooked by Rick and Morgan…