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By 10:30am, Kate, Padraigin, and I were on our way to Dublin. We were driving--what became a miraculous 2.5 hours--to Dublin to visit the Irish Traditional Music Archive at 73 Merrion Square, Dublin 2 with my Ethnomusicology class. We were to have a tour conducted by Nicholas Carolan, the head curator and initiator of the archive in 1987.
We made it to Merrian Square about 2:00pm and parked behind the College of Surgeons at the top of Grafton Street. The rest of our class was coming by train. As we exited the parking garage, we received a phone call that the rest had arrived at the same time. We agreed to meet at the Shelbourne Hotel. Within minutes, a second call came in saying that no one had bothered to look up the address of the archive site (hence my reference above), so we walked from Garda to Garda until finally we laid our eyes on the brass plaque of the Archive’s dark blue door.
After entering, Nicholas gave us a brief overview of the place and then proceeded with a guided tour. The second floor was an enormous library with thousands of CDs and music books many of which are now out of print. I would have been happy enough to come back with a sleeping bag and spend the evening there! We were shown to the computer stations outfitted to play DVDs, CDs, and search the Archive’s vast collection, but to our dismay were informed that no sound recordings whatsoever were allowed to be purchased or copies for any reason. Books could be photocopied for 15¢ a page.
Nicholas showed us a walking stick/flute which was allegedly owned by the poet Oliver Goldsmith. He also pointed out the cylinder player (the sort Patsy Touhey would have used to record in his home) and an old Victor Grammophone.
One flight up, we were shown cases of old cylinders and original reel-to-reels of Sean O’Riada. Behind us were two large filing cabinets of the writings of Brendan Breathnach. We were told that the cylinders had to be sent to France for cleaning as no such facilities were available in Ireland. I looked on the desk to my right and saw the two healthy volumes of Jimmy O’Brien-Moran’s doctoral dissertation on Paddy Conneely, the Galway piper.
Up another flight of stairs we were shown a wall full of LPs. Just inside the door on the table was a record copy of Billy McComiskey’s album Making the Rounds. I had a stroke of nostalgia as I had grown up only a few miles from Billy’s house. Kate was surprised to see it too. Across the hall from the LP room was one full of cabinets and binders of photographs. I think I counted a dozen binders full of photographs of uilleann pipes...heaven.
From here we moved to the basement where a recording studio was under construction. We were told that any materials were accepted by the Archive for processing no matter how much or how little background was furnished. For the next hour we looked up recordings and books and went through the shelves of priceless materials. Interestingly though, Nicholas informed us that monetarily speaking, the Archive was worth very little. In terms of culture, the place was priceless.
I found a NPU album of Johnny Doran and enjoyed Colonel Frazier masterfully played. I suggest that anyone without this album purchase it asap.
Our ulterior motive for a drive to the city was to hear Handel’s Messiah performed in the 13th century St. Patrick’s Cathedral. This candlelit program was presented by Enable Ireland, a non-profit organization benefiting needy children. The Culwick Choral Society, in conjunction with conductor Colin Block and chorus master Malcolm Wisener, put on the the oratorio in its entirety in the evocative setting of St. Patrick’s. The concert was sold out attended by more than 800 people.
For those not familiar with the work, it was composed in 1742 by George Frederic Handel of German birth then living in London. He was to premiere the work on April 13, 1742 in Dublin the proceeds going to orphans. This massive 2.5 hour piece was purportedly composed in 72 hours. Apparently Handel worked continuously sending away servants who disturbed him with meals.
We arrived a half hour before the doors opened to ensure a good seat. We did managed to find places in the third row, however these particular seats were obviously designed to keep the congregation awake during services. I’m pretty sure I felt my bones starting to change shape as the post-reformation postropedic chairs did their work.
I walked around the huge space taking photographs of curiosities. I found a marble plaque of Turlough O’Carolan at the harp and an aluminum barrel with a coin slot in the top with the works ORGAN FUND on it. Kate found a handmade copy made from the original score of the Hallelujah chorus. It appeared that traces of this particular copyist’s work were spread all over Ireland and that he tended to “improve” works that he copied down. It was noted however that when he copied Handel’s work in 1792, he left the original chorus “unimproved.”
My main disappointment with this concert was that instead of playing the organ of St. Patrick’s, a dual keyboard set to “organ” had been brought in and hooked to two speakers. A small performance fumble was made by the soprano who nearly missed her cue. The orchestra held a note for a very long time before she rose to the occasion.
The choir was able, but I was particularly impressed by their performance of the chorus “Surely...” and “He trusted in God...” They attacked this music was such vigor and precision that for the duration, I was transported. The other major highlight of this concert was the bass soloist. Every time Mr. Slater sang, I wanted to jump out of my seat screaming! Technically, he was dead on and his ability to convey the sentiments expressed in the text was uncanny and lively.
“The Tune is Brother to
the Prayer.”
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
Redeeming Day in Dublin
