Quest for the perfect pint

For me, even after more than a few visits to the Emerald Isle, there was still one mystery left to be unraveled. What’s the fascination with “the perfect pint of Guinness?”
More importantly, is there really a perfect pint of any stout, lager or ale? Yes, there most certainly is. And if you stand behind the counter of any pub you better know how to pull one – whether it’s Guinness or anything else that comes out of a tap.
I learned that lesson some time ago when I begged Anne Mooney Gough to let me spend a few hours behind Mooney’s bar serving her regulars. Gough is the sixth generation to own Mooney’s one of the three pubs in An Rinn in County Waterford, Ireland. An Rinn — or Ring in English — is a Gaelic speaking town of about 2,000.
The stone-fronted tavern holds memorabilia and history from all six generations. Pictures of the Clancy Brothers singing decades ago hang beside portraits of long gone patrons. Ancient posters for popular cigarettes are crammed beside old bottles, tools and even train signs. The oldest is an iron sign hung out in front of the pub. It comes from Anne Mooney’s ancestor, Siobhan MicCoda’s original pub or shebeen, a 300-year-old thatched cottage that sat a few hundred yards from the present establishment. (Shebeens were well-known unlicensed and illegal pubs.)
When the road near MicCoda’s was widened the house was removed and the pub was rebuilt where it now stands along the main road. Mooney’s is also home to Anne Mooney’s husband, Tom Gough’s, extensive sign collection, one that includes the original 1947 brass Waterford Crystal business sign that he purchased at an auction years ago. Visit Mooney’s every night and there will still always be something that previously went unnoticed.
I spent a few nights enjoying the sights and a few sessions drinking Shandies, a surprisingly refreshing drink made of beer and white lemonade before I finally mustered the courage to work the bar during the day – when there were only a few patrons.
And it did require some courage. The Irish do not suffer fools when it comes to pouring their stout, lager or ale.
Tom Gough walked me through the first Guinness order. Picking up a clean glass was simple. Holding it to the tap at a 45-degree angle, without touching the nozzle to the glass, proved to be equally easy. Pulling the handle forward, while oh-so-slowly moving the glass to an upright angle, proved to be harder but do-able. Pouring until the glass was three-quarters full to allow the thick dark brew to “settle” was a judgment call, one that I accidentally happened to get right.
Settling, Tom and other bartenders say, can take up to three minutes for a good pint. As the surge or gas settles the liquid darkens to black. Once darkened the pint is brought back to the tap for a bit more Guinness and a beautiful mushroom crown that just reaches over the glass’s lip. According to Guinness instructions the crown should be no larger than about an inch.
With Tom’s help the first Guinness was so beautiful he took a seat on the other side of the bar and told me to go to it.
Ah, if only t’were so easy. My next customer, not too thrilled that an American was pulling his pint of lager, begged Tom to please fill his order. “Does she know what she’s doing,” Terry Mooney asked while clasping his hands together anxiously.
Tom said something in Irish that sounded suspiciously like “leave her alone” and then told Terry, coincidentally Anne’s brother, that the ale was one the house. That might have been good news to old Terry Mooney had I not gotten nervous with the stress of it all and pulled seven inches of froth and one inch of beer.
Luckily, Tom bailed me out by pouring off the foam and showing me the difference between pulling a lager rather than foam.
“Don’t be afraid of the handle,” Tom said as he pushed the lever and watched the golden liquid fill the glass.
Once the glass held more lager than crown, it was placed in front of Terry Mooney who, wearing a suit jacket, vest, shirt and a paddy cap, looked at it suspiciously.
He ended up with two on the house and finally, one perfect pint – pulled, who would have guessed, by me.
The next order came from two Texans looking for their Irish Mooney roots. They were Americans, so the stress was off for the moment. One-half pint of Smithwick’s and a Shandy was an easy chore and the cold glasses were placed on the aged and shiny wood bar.
A bit of a chat, a few pictures with Terry Mooney, who may or may not have been of the same clan, and they were off.
Jamesson and Smithwick’s was the next order. Jameson, I learned is whiskey. Tom was getting supplies so the customer walked me through the process of placing the glass under the bottles spout and pushing until it dispensed the exact amount of liquor. By now I was becoming – in my estimation – an expert, so no help was need with the Smithwick’s.
As a matter of fact no help was needed pulling any more Guinness either.
Is there a perfect pint? You bet. Ask anyone in Ireland.

By Denise Dube

Mystery Of the Cloak Unveiled

Cloaked in mystery describes the history of the cloak. As elusive as a scarlet-lined magician’s cape, this sleeveless garment can conceal almost anything, including its origins, beneath a round of cloth. How long that round has been around is anyone’s guess, but shorter, earlier versions of the cloak were not always totally tubular. Laid flat on the ground, a primitive pattern might be a large square of fur or animal skin and, later, a simple rectangle of woven cloth. Regardless of the geometric shape, the fabric usually had a hole cut in the middle, so the cloak could slip over the head, similar to the ponchos still worn in many cultures.

By very early Bible times, sleeved coats had already made a debut, but even Joseph’s many-colored coat (or long-sleeved coat as some translations describe it) did not displace the cloak. In the second chapter of Second Kings, for example, an outer mantle seemed to soak up the supernatural powers given to its owner. When the power of God rested on Elijah’s shoulders, the prophet could perform such miracles as staving off starvation during a drought and raising the dead to life. Prior to his own death (or being taken up by God in a mysterious moment), Elijah used his cloak to part the Jordan River so that he and his companion, Elisha, could walk across on dry land. Shortly after this incident, the younger prophet realized that his mentor would not return, so Elisha quickly gathered up Elijah’s cloak, taking on its mantle of mystery and parting the waters again to get home.
At home in European histories, the cloak became entangled in rites of wizards, witches, and warlocks. Quite likely, this sorcerer’s claim occurred because of the cloak’s power to hide whatever fit inside. Eventually, sewn-in squares of cloth or slash pockets increased the small spaces and folds, adding to the receptacles needed to harbor herbs, animal parts, and other odd ingredients used to concoct a potentially potent brew. Whether these mystic connotations or the earlier claims of the biblical prophets influenced the early Church or not, Christians altered various versions of the mantle. In black cloth or white, monks began wearing cloaks with permanently attached cowls, while priestly garments reflected the Church year from Advent to the Ordinary Times after Pentecost. In addition to the seasonal change of clerical colors, a priest’s cloak could be worn with the icons or ornamentation appropriate to either a highly festive or most solemn occasion.
Among Irish folk, colorful cloaks in vivid shades of red, blue, green, or yellow often heralded the social class to which a person belonged. King, queen, or commoner might be caught wearing a cloak with spots, stripes, or checks of multi-colors. Regional variations also occurred with one style differing from another according to the amount of fabric bunched around the body. In all areas though, poor folks mostly likely skimped on cloth.
In centuries past and in the present day, an Irish cloak usually drapes gracefully to the knees but sometimes lightly brushes the ground or, more likely, ends somewhere around the ankles. Shapes vary too, especially since some cloaks have been cut into an oblong, but most of the garments circumscribe a circle with a circumference of 180 inches, more or less. Cloaks often have a rounded or, at times, pointed hood pointedly sewn into place, but some include a detachable hood or no head covering at all. In the popular pattern of the Kinsale cloak, the hood may ruffle or fold into full pleats that billow around the neck.
The most comfy cloaks warm a body well, whereas others dramatically state a current fashion. When Irish women wore hoop skirts, for instance, a cloak would be cut to accommodate that loopy attire. A decorative cloak of satin or brocade might still knock off the chill but mainly make a knock-out entrance at such formal occasions as a wedding or a night at the opera. For functional use, a full-lined, full-length cloak has remarkable warming properties, especially when cut from cashmere, suede, woolen tweed, or velvet-lined velvet. Some cloaks include a shoulder cape, but that cape may also be used alone to wrap an Irishman or woman in ever-fashionable tweed and comfort.
A traditional walking cape flows in various lengths and, like a cloak, has only one or two hefty buttons or other type of fastener. Those sturdy but, often, ornamental clasps hold the garment in place, whereas a smaller, lighter-weight ruana may merely need a lightweight brooch or pin. Pronounced roo-AAH-na, the ruana freely forms a covering similar to a large scarf, shawl, or open poncho, so the overall effect depends on how the long oblong or circular wrap is worn. For example, the wearer might toss a ruana across one shoulder or both. Or, the cloth might drape across the back of the neck and down the shoulders with a belt or colorful sash to hold the fabric snugly in place.
Since a ruana doesn’t attempt to protect a person against the bitter cold, this lighter-weight wrap inclines to be knitted, crocheted, or woven of wool, silk, linen, or other yarns, with or without the decorative addition of lace, fringe, embroidery, braid, or appliqué. As occurs with the warmer counterparts of capes and cloaks, however, a ruana basically fits the person and the need. For instance, the wrap might top off the evening attire for ballroom dancing or be part of a lively costume worn for an Irish jig. If the seam of a dress or pair of pants splits in a particularly awkward moment, a ruana can be swiftly snatched from the shoulders and wrapped around the body like a skirt. Wrapping with the Irish produces as many interesting possibilities as the capes, cloaks, and colors that cover such occasions, but on a warm St. Patrick’s Day, a light shoulder wrap will be most likely to appear, fittingly, in bright green.

by Mary Sayler

Dancer to Dancer

Fifteen years goes by pretty fast. At the age of six, I became involved in Irish dancing with lots of starts and stops in the lessons. A true and steady commitment for me didn’t really start until my 11th year. Until then, I’d sit in a small blue chair in the back of my twin sister’s dancing class, pretending to read a book and declaring my disdain for Irish dancing to everyone asking why I wasn’t up there with her.
Secretly, I wished I was. It was so much easier to hide behind a Goosebumps book (remember those?) then to get out on the floor and make a mistake and listen to the good natured yelling. I still have that nagging sense that I have to do everything perfectly the first time but that’s another issue.
When I finally got the courage five years later, there were three little girls who helped me out. They taught me steps in their spare time, they hung out with me outside of class, and most importantly, they never let me quit no matter how hard I tried – they were my twin Meghan and my friends Noreen Hughes and Brianna Kostecka.  We used to call ourselves “the swans” after our school logo derived from “The Children of Lir” but at that age, we were more like little chicks.
At 21 years old, I think we finally deserve our original nickname and we’ve watched each other grow into beautiful, confident women. This May, Brianna will graduate from Loyola College, Meghan from the University of Scranton, Noreen from Catholic University and I will graduate from the George Washington University. Our dear friends from other schools all over our region, North America and the world, will do so too and for most of us, this means we’ve outgrown our competitive dancing careers. Thankfully, none of us have outgrown our friendship.
Sadly, the process has started, now that we are all seniors in college, it is time to think about life after dancing. Brianna, Noreen and Meghan are still going strong, with one year of All Ireland’s, World’s and National’s left in the agenda. But with graduation looming, thoughts are naturally turning to the next phase.
I was the first one to go, and even though I was so adamant about quitting I secretly always thought I would start up again. I did join our World Medaling Ceili team (with Meghan, Noreen and Brianna) in 2005, and performed at this year’s school Feis but that was about it.
Now that Meghan, Brianna and Noreen are thinking about careers, and what happens after college, I realized this dream of competing again is never going to happen. That is one of my biggest regrets. Sure, I’ll still practice now and then and maybe even teach one day, but I’ll never be out on that competitive stage again.

Profile: Irish Dance and Peter Smith

In his South Amboy, N.J. studio, Smith’s students dance – and dance and dance, round after round after round.  They practice their hard shoe steps three students at a time, the entire class rotating, while Smith sits at the head of the hall.  There are no warm-ups, no stretches, no cool-downs.  It’s all dance, all the time.
From his humble demeanor to his class structure, Smith keeps it simple.  Don’t be misled.  His simplistic thinking has proven innovative in the world of Irish dance.  Where he sees a need, he meets it – and that is precisely how Smith became one of the foremost leaders of Irish dance in North America and beyond.
Meet Peter Smith: current president of An Coimisiún le Rincí Gaelacha, past president of the Irish Dance Teachers Association of North America (I.D.T.A.N.A.), founder of the Southern Region, director of the Peter Smith School of Irish Dance, adjudicator, mentor…the list goes on.

Unification
When asked how many students are in his school, Smith just smiled and said he doesn’t know.  Smith doesn’t care about messy details like numbers because that’s not what is important – he cares about Irish dance.  His story takes off in 1959 when he passed his TCRG exam and began teaching on the east coast.  It was then that Smith saw a need to bring North America together, to unite Irish dance teachers not only from his region, but from the whole country.  A lofty goal; the I.D.T.A.N.A. was created a few short years later, established to strengthen leadership and standardize feiseanna.  There were less than ten teachers at that time; astonishingly, that number is now closer to 700, said Smith.
“All the regions support each other and I think Irish dancing has supported itself in North America,” said Smith, one of the leading experts on the governance of Irish dance.
The current president of An Coimisiún, Smith said the body is in place to ensure everything is run correctly and so no one can take off on their own.  Any changes in Irish dance must be approved by An Coimisiún; in other words, by everyone.

Change
With the immense popularity brought on by Riverdance and Lord of the Dance, competitive Irish dance experienced a major shift marked by a whole new level of athleticism.  Smith witnessed firsthand the progression of Irish dance into this new degree of difficulty, from the intricacy of steps to the modernity of costumes.  Though he admits that Irish dance has changed, he said these changes have only improved the steps, bringing the sport to a whole new peak.
“Each of the dances has kept its purity from the beginning of time.  A reel is a reel, a slip jig is a slip jig.  They are all beautiful in their own way.”
He prefers dancers to look more natural – “I disapprove of covering half the face in glitter” – and said his dancers tend to use make up very moderately.  He remembers the agony of hair curling for his girls, so he understands the ease and comfort that comes with wearing wigs.  As for costumes, Smith prefers traditional, to say the least.
“The Celtic design has gone away, but with the help of God we’ll bring it back to have Irish costumes once more,” Smith said.

Legacy
Smith’s students describe him as kind yet strict, motivating yet demanding.  His seasoned eye means little gets past him and as an adjudicator, he focuses on placement, carriage and posture.  One of Smith’s defining characteristics is his ability to pass on the same deep appreciation and respect for the art form to his students.  Jimmy Friel, one of Smith’s first pupils, began Irish dance at the age of ten.  He met his future wife in Smith’s class at age thirteen, their son learned Irish dance from Smith, and today Friel teaches alongside Smith.
“He loves his children,” said Friel.  “He can still dance with them.  I couldn’t even begin… his students who have gone on to become teachers and adjudicators – it’s a great testament to him, that he instilled love in that many people.”
Open Championship dancer James Hester, 21, began Irish dance at the relatively late age of sixteen; however, once he started, that was it.
“He [Smith] wants all his students to take the teachers exam and start schools of our own,” said Hester, of Newark, N.J. “I definitely want to be a teacher in the very near future…I would like to teach with Peter.”
Fourteen-year-old Maura McFadden has been dancing with Smith for nine years, during which she has reached the Open Championship level and most recently, qualified for the World Championships in 2007.
“He’s like the founder of dancing in America,” said McFadden.  “It’s a real honor to dance for him.”
For his leadership, his legacy, and his lifelong devotion to Irish dance, there is only one thing left to say:
Thank-You, Mr. Smith.

Tenors Win Over America Hearts

The rich full tone of a tenors voice has filled concert halls for nearly three centuries. Therefore it is no surprise when the Irish Tenors tour the country they beckon opera advocates and music-lovers everywhere to hear them sing.
A transition from church choirs, singing competitions to the Operatic performance is not an easy road. Yet, Ireland has managed to train and send forth singers comparable to the Italians.
The Irish Tenors, John McDermott, Anthony Kearns and Ronan Tynan, first came together in 1998 for a concert at the Royal Dublin Society Main Hall.  Their powerful interpretation of traditional Irish ballads and arias precipitated their self-titled CD to the top of the Billboard world music charts.
Shortly there after in March 2001 Anthony Kearns, Ronan Tynan and Finbar Wright captivated millions with songs of longing and remembrance when they taped “The Irish Tenors Ellis Island”. It was produced Daniel Hart, Bill Hughes, Phil Byrd and in association with PBS in New York.
Taped before a live audience and hosted by Actor Martin Sheen the Irish once again won the hearts of the American audience. Anthony was quick to add, ” We sang all the songs that people knew and grew up with.”  The music features popular tunes in Irish neighborhoods: drinking songs, Irish ballads and patriotic songs.
Time and circumstance give way to change and creative development and so it is with the Irish Tenors. John McDermott and Ronan Tynan leaves of absence opened the door of opportunity for Karl Scully. Scully, the newest addition is equally as talented. In a country that thrives on song and dance selecting a tenor can prove laborious. That process not falling on one individual but much rest well in the skillful and trained ears of Veronica Dunne.
Dr. Veronica Dunne is an Irish National Treasure.  She can be credited with the strong foundation upon which the Dublin vocal community was built.  She is a constant presence in the Dublin opera world, a well-respected vocal musician and teacher, a unique and gracious woman.  She is a dedicated advocate of vocal music education and literally hundreds of singers owe their success and careers to Dunne’s gifted teaching.  Ronnie continues to teach aspiring vocal artists.
The opening show for the Winter Tour of the Irish Tenors began in the unlikely place of College Station, Texas. For those of you unfamiliar with this bastion of conservatism in the Brazos Valley, it is home to Texas A&M University. Thanks to the University and the OPAS Guild, who generously support performing arts events for the students, the Irish Tenors, Anthony Kearns, Finbar Wright and Karl Scully performed to a very appreciative and sold out house.
Like the northern wind that blew in that night they swept the audience away.  Maestro, Mr. Arnie Roth, opened the show with the Brian Boru orchestral overture setting the stage for an Irish evening of song with the classic Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears from the acclaimed “Ellis Island” CD.
There was no mistaking the Cork man’s rendition of Isle of Innisfree from the film “The Quiet Man.”  Finbar Wright filled the hall with a wistful Irish accent that all anticipated.
The youthful and brilliant Karl Scully followed with a Song for Ireland anchored by the pure voice of Anthony Kearns singing the traditional Boolavogue. Songs of troubles and politics are sprinkled though out a concert to stir the national spirit.
The first half of the performance was a playful mix of traditional songs and choice selections from the spiritually lifting Sacred CD. Rudder Performing Arts Center lent itself to a cathedral experience of emotion upon hearing Panis Angelicus and Amazing Grace.
The second half of the show was equally entertaining and a delightful experience as well as a brilliant introduction to the Christmas season with a perfect mix of Christmas standards and Irish delights like the Dublin Medley and Fairytale of New York. And the crowd was not disappointed with the classic Danny Boy.
Performing in lavish theaters like the Teatro alla Scala and Bolshoi or a music hall in Texas they are each accomplished vocalist with awards and accolades that few can carry with homespun dignity. They are approachable fellows that have a gift with which a voice and tune can capture the senses of euphoria taking audiences to a timeless place where troubles are forgotten and time is suspended if for only that brief blissful few minutes.
Their repertoire allows them to change their standards and adapt to the moment. So if you wish to take in a piece of Ireland in this month of March visit their website for a concert near you.

Dempsey’s Pub, New York City

Ever stumble upon a seisún in a pub in Ireland?  It doesn’t get much better than that – relaxing to a never-ending series of reels and jigs, with nothing but the pint’s depleting level to worry about.

Walk into Dempsey’s Pub at 3rd St. and 2nd Ave. in New York City and one is instantly transported hundreds of miles across the Atlantic.
Located in the cozy East Village, Dempsey’s is as close to Ireland as you can get in the midst of the fast-paced rat race that is New York City.  Home to the longest running open seisún in NYC, (a “seisún” is Gaelic for session, an informal gathering of traditional Irish musicians; a jam session, in other words) Dempsey’s opens its doors every Tuesday night to musicians of all levels and kinds.
“The Dempsey’s session is ‘open’ in the truest sense of the word, something that is unfortunately rare,” said John Nevin, a first generation Irish American who has run the seisun for the past five years. “A lot of bars won’t take us on. People think it doesn’t fit their bar, but they don’t give it a chance.”
Tom O’Byrne did.  Owner and operator of Dempsey’s, as well two other NYC pubs, The Baggot Inn and Slainte, O’Byrne said it was always his intention to keep traditional Irish music a priority, though it was an admittedly natural process for O’Byrne who hails from County Meath.
“We don’t take people like Tom for granted,” said Nevin.
“This bar was kind of a frontier,” said O’Byrne, who came to the States in 1984. The regular Tuesday night affair begins at 8 pm and usually runs until midnight, or really whenever the musicians decide to quit. The first part of the seisún is conducted in a round robin fashion, where everybody gets a turn to play their respective instrument, and later turns into the “call the tune” format popular in most circles.
“The seisún is subject to the chemistry of the people there at any given moment,” said Nevin. “It’s a very organic thing and the feeling is quite variable.”
The players sit up near the front of the bar, so strains of traditional reels and jigs drift out into the cool air of 2nd Avenue. The bar attracts a pleasant mix of neighborhood regulars, weekenders, students, musicians and of course, the Irish of NYC. The seisún has become somewhat of an attraction and is a routine that is deeply appreciated by the musicians, the patrons, and even the bartenders.
I chatted with bartender Colin Stewart as he doled out pints of Guinness to seisun players.
“I love it.  I look forward to it every week,” said the Derry man. “They are good players; nice, personable people.  They show time and encouragement for novices, patience and guidance. That’s what’s good about this seisun.”
Like O’Byrne, many of the musicians use the seisun as a way to not only find enjoyment in their music, but keep their Irish roots alive.
“It’s a very direct way for me to connect to my heritage,” said Nevin. “I’m here now, but it’s like having one foot here and one foot there [in Ireland], and no place to call home. This takes the edge off. I feel like I’m at home.”

How do you practice your dancing?

Just about every day in Irish dance classes across the world, students are told by their conscientious teachers to practice before the next class. Week after week, these reminders are announced, the students nod dutifully to show that they will indeed practice, and the class ends.
Now, two questions occur to me. First, are dancers really practicing? Second, and perhaps more important, what are the dancers practicing? Let’s just assume that the answer to the first question is “Yes”, even though there may be some doubt! I would rather focus, for the moment, on the second question.
When I was a beginning dancer in Boston, I made sure that I practiced each new step so that could perform it at the next class. At the same time, however, I also made sure to run through my older steps, so that I did not take the chance of forgetting them. I was fortunate that my dance teacher, Mary Costello Madden, TCRG, made sure that in every class we danced a variety of steps, not just the new material taught in the last few classes. She had the right expectation that her dancers must be able to perform a full range of steps in each of the dances (reel, jig, etc.). This was a big help whenever we danced out; we could quickly put together dance routines where groups of dancers could easily find steps they could dance comfortably without hesitation.
It is all too easy to focus only on new steps. They do need attention. They do need refinement and adjustment. They do need enough guided practice to become second nature to dancers. All of that takes time and attention. The risk we all run, however, is that dancers will inaccurately assume that our focus on new material means that they don’t need to practice (or perhaps even remember) the older steps. It is the responsibility of teachers and dancers to devote a suitable amount of practice time to a variety of steps, new and old.
Each step or sequence of materials has specific challenges that each dancer needs to meet to execute it correctly and effectively. Practicing only the newest material means a dancer is working on the specific challenges of that material, but he or she might be losing the edge necessary to execute some other challenging material in the older step, which could be detrimental to the dancer’s overall development. This is especially important at the grades level (beginner, advanced beginner, novice, prizewinner).
Dancers should have a full repertoire of steps and material that they practice and perform. They should not be limited to knowing and being to perform well only a few steps in a given dance; the choice of which steps to perform at each feis should be based upon which steps currently display the student’s overall dance ability, not the fact that the dancer only knows two steps that he/she can perform right now. I work with my dancers regularly to make sure that they can perform a whole range of steps in each dance, at high levels of accuracy and strength, and then we decide for each dancer which pair of steps is best at showing off at the next feis his or her abilities and development as a dancer. As a teacher, I know that a dancer may not be ready to use a new step in competition, so having other steps “up to speed” helps us to make informed decisions for feiseanna, while still working on the new material until the dancer has it ready to go. Once older steps are left untouched for a period of time, it becomes harder to remember them. In addition, it certainly becomes more likely that a dancer will be able, at best, to get through the steps but not be able to perform them with confidence and commitment, partially because the muscle memory necessary to execute the steps will have weakened or disappeared.
Regular practice and review of a full range of steps in every dance is a good idea and one that will have long-term benefit for dancers. Make this part of your weekly practice sessions at home, and ask your teacher about including a few minutes in every class to review and practice older steps along with new materials. As I see it, this would be a practice that makes real sense.

By Russell J. Beaton adcrg

Is there a Future in Irish dance after the competition

There are growing opportunities for dancers. Catapulted by the success of Irish dancing shows, more and more people are considering educations in theater and careers associated with Irish dancing.  There is a lot of money to be made in this business and if you love something, you will be good at it – so what better way to support yourself than to do it with something that you thoroughly love?
A dancer only has to be a mere 16 years old to get paid in some dancing shows, and many of them get paid very well.  It is not uncommon to hear about a champion Irish dancer taking time off from high school or college to star in a 4 month long tour. Now, education is certainly important and before you parents out there throw out this idea completely, think about it this way – dancing in a show can certainly broaden the dancer and round off the book learning.  Irish dancers are usually extremely dedicated and motivated people.  They practice hard and know what it takes to be successful.  Sometimes, it seems like Irish dancers have a greater work ethic than most adults!  Many are straight “A” students.  By participating in shows, dancers further their hard working skills, and the best part is they get paid!
Students take time off because the pressure of school is just too much.  Often they end up sitting around and doing nothing for a year or even more, and never go back to finish their education.  A more productive outlet for Irish dancers is to participate in a show.  Being able to Irish dance is especially useful for students right out of college. Shows allow dancers to break up the pressure and make a little cash while doing something they love with their dancing soul mates.
Once you turn 21, you are eligible to test for a teacher’s license.  If you pass, you can open up your own school or assistant teach with a school already established.  There are hundreds of dancing schools in North America, the UK and Ireland and now throughout Europe and even Asia.  Teachers can also become adjudicators once they pass a test at age 30 and this also generates a considerable income, not to mention the travel, camaraderie and absolute craic!  All in all, dancing teachers and judges have the opportunity to subsidize in a profession that they absolutely love.
Don’t like to dance? Music is one of the major supporting elements to world of Irish Dance. Without the music and the talented musicians, Irish Dancing would not exist.  Think about it – virtually every weekend, there is some sort of Irish dancing competition or festival and with these events comes the need for musicians to play the dances.  However, they cannot be the standard music school maestros; they must be trained to play every set dance known in the Irish dancing world on the spot when asked.  This takes many years of practice and good musicians are in need.
$3000 dancing dresses – need I say more?  Depending on how quickly the dress maker can make them, this is probably one of the most lucrative businesses in the Irish dancing world.  Champion dancers usually spend thousands of dollars on dresses each year.  Since dancing dresses are an art form, the dress maker is looked at as an artist.  Dresses by Vera Wang are held in similar regard as are Gavin Dougherty creations.  Since dress-making is such an intricate and complicated process, there has always been a lack of dressmakers – especially in the US.
So if you’re not a dancer, musician, or seamstresses – what can you do to stay connected to the Irish Dancing world you love and make a living?  Ask yourself, “what do most dancers and parents do when they are waiting in between competitions?”  Why they go shopping at the vendors of course!  It is rare to see a feis these days without a hallway of tables selling everything from Irish memorabilia to hand crafted jewelry. When a family shows up to a feis and forgets their socks or even their shoes, the only thing they can do is spend $150 at the vendors buying new ones.
Irish dancing is an expensive hobby, so why not turn a passion into dollars to either supplement a hobby or to continue doing what you love? It may be the difference between simply “working to live” and “living to work.”

By Erin Reilly

I Always Do My Best-the performers mantra

In life and certainly in performance there is always a standard that we work towards. Being clear about this is useful because you know that you wish to achieve something that will represent you at your best. But what does it mean to say ‘your best’. Firstly, it means you knowing that you have worked for improvements from you last performance, Secondly, it suggests that you can be clear about what more you can achieve.
Doing your best is also linked to how far you have developed. For example if I learn to play two cords on the guitar then I may be excellent at these. This should  also remind me of how much more there is to learn if I am to become a highly competent musician. In the same way in Irish dancing if you learn basic steps you can perform your best at that level. However, we should all be reaching for the best at the highest level attainable. This is what gives us goals or objectives or results to aim for. Therefore if we continue to learn and develop “our best” will also be changing all of the time. It is from these changes that we get the satisfaction of high achievement.
If you look back at yourself as a dancer over the last twelve months can you trace the improvements you have made? Are there dance elements, technique or steps, you can perform now that you did not have competence in before?.
When we are committed to doing our best this should always mean that we are on a road of continuous improvement. In every facet of our life this should be an aim of ours on a daily basis.
Sometimes in competition a dancer will say to the teacher, that was not my best today. What you are saying is that you know you can perform better than you did in that experience. One of the influences of course that supports doing “my best” is how you think about performance. It is necessary to have self-belief; confidence; courage; determination, and concentration to really be at your best. How often do you meet a student who has sat an examination and says, “ I did not perform at my best in the examination because I lost my concentration or that I was nervous”. Your determination to not allow yourself to succumb to nervous thoughts or lapses of concentration will always help. Your mind is well able to deal with positive thoughts so make sure you have plenty of them in every performance.
Development does not happen in a day. It takes time and effort. This will only be applied however when you think positively about being better or showing improvement. How often do we hear people, and especially dancers say, “ I am doing my best and cannot do any better” What the dancer should be saying is that “ I want to do better and will do what it necessary to achieve that improvement” You are no different to anyone else when it comes to being better at anything. Dancers or musicians may never be the same but every one of them can improve. Every time therefore that you perform recognise that it is an opportunity for you to display your own improvement. That is my view is the real challenge and satisfaction of having a talent. Every Irish Dancing student has an individual talent. Keep working on your talent and be proud of every performance.

Donagh Corcoran, MA., Dip Phil., ADCRG

In Newfoundland the old country is never forgotten

You can’t walk very far in Newfoundland before hearing an Irish dialect, seeing architecture that reminds you of Dublin or some other reminiscence of Irish culture. And Irish traditional music is no different. Ever since the provinces first wave of European immigration in the 19th century, it has more than made a significant stamp in Canada’s most eastern province.
For Newfoundland it’s culture and history have always been defined by traditional music, namely shanties, and ballads sung by early European explorers and Newfoundland fishermen who entertained themselves in the bays, coves and inlets dotted along the coastline. This form of in-house entertainment also became known as kitchen parties because they were always located in that area of the home. Throughout the provinces history church hymns, military bands, fiddling, flute playing, bag piping, also accompanied vocalists, while new settlers wrote songs to reflect the everyday experiences of life on the rock (a nickname for Newfoundland, because of it’s rocky soil and its many geological formations).
Today Irish music is defined under the terms traditional or Celtic, the former no longer indicating just music passed down from generation to generation, but new contemporary styles, while still staying true to original form. The latter because of its connection with music made by the Celtic peoples of Brittany, Ireland, Scotland and Wales.

Over the years the inevitable overlapping of styles has always occurred but some musicians believe the small Irish communities in the province are the most active with keeping traditional Irish music alive and well.
Irish musician Fergus O’Byrne believes Irish unaccompanied singing was one of the first examples of Irish traditional music. ” If you study the singing of Philip Foley from Tilting, he tended to sing with the same ornamentation that is prevalent in Irish Nos Singing (A term for a type of unaccompanied singing in Ireland), whereas a singer from a more English area of Newfoundland may sing more straight forward with less ornamentation.”
And that ornamentation has always been a telling feature of traditional Newfoundland folk tunes.
O’Byrne immigrated to Canada in the 1960’s from Dublin and then later to Newfoundland in 1971 with the popular Irish group Ryan’s Fancy. At first attending university Fergus along with Denis Ryan and Dermot O’Reilly made a splash on the local scene. In their 11 years together they entertained audiences all over Canada, won numerous awards and spawned several Irish television programs and specials from 1972 to 1983 on CBC television. A special feature of the group was allowing amateur rural musicians onto their programs to share their love for the music.
He believes while a lot of traditional music is pop orientated contemporary musicians still research the old collections for new material such as Kenneth Peacocks, “Songs of the Newfoundland Out ports,” which was first published in the 1920’s and another collection “ The Old time Songs and Poetry of Newfoundland,” by Gerald S. Doyle. Both helped establish the Newfoundland musical canon, with tunes such as Jack Was Every Inch a Sailor, The Old Polina, and Badger Drive.
The funny thing is that a lot of songs in both collections still echo songs of the old country such as I’se The B’y and The Cliffs of Baccalieu. While there are some that often get misplaced as Newfoundland originals, but are not. The Green Shores of Fogo, is an example that has been sung in Newfoundland for years but it is actually the same song as the Green Shores of Erin. And there are others where melodies and lyrics have been altered to suit Newfoundland locals such as My Old Dudeen , Erins Green Shore and Bold McCarthy.
Like all genres traditional Irish music had has it’s share of ups and downs. With the popularity of both the Peacock and Doyle song books, radio introduced the music to a wider audience in the 1930’s with CBC Radio programs such as The Big Six and the Irene B. Mellon which featured recordings and live performances of Irish and Newfoundland favourites.
During this time, instrumentation of traditional music in Newfoundland added the accordion to the fold, along with the fiddle and vocalization. Today some of the common instruments include the accordion, fiddle, flute, tin whistle, mandolin, bodhran, percussion, guitar, voice and the spoons. In Irish music their are some minor differences with uilleann pipes, harps, the hammered dulcimer, citterns, bouzoukias and different kind of accordions such as the melodeon, button, piano and concertina being used.
In the 40’s and 50’s radio also played a role with introducing country and western, jazz ands pop and of course rock and roll, which stations played almost exclusively. In the 1960’s television played an important role is making local singers a household name in the province, such as CBC’s All Around the Circle. Over the years dependence on publicly funded CBC radio and television for exposure also have to compete with government cut backs. As a result their is less exposure today than there was years ago. For rural Irish communities, radio and television played a huge role in terms of exposure, with less airplay over the years, fewer were being heard. Today there are specials, but fewer than their has been years ago. Most Irish music is recorded in larger centres, rather than the smaller communities.
For younger musicians who were exposed to local Irish musicians through radio and television the only way to capture a new audience, staying on top of current musical trends, while keeping the traditional elements of the music alive was reinvention.
In the 1960’s country and western music was added, but the most influential artists that altered the Irish traditional landscape was the 1970’s group Figgy Duff. By combining rock fusion players with traditional musicians it created a new sound that was never heard before. This led to less ballads and shanties and more upbeat music that resembled what younger audiences were listening to.
Newfoundland based musician Arthur O’Brien who grew up on the traditional stylings of this group and musicians like them during the 1970’s. Their inspiration and others like them led to his Celtic group The Navigators, who have been entertaining audiences since 2000. He notes adding other elements to the traditional form changes it somewhat but it can also open up a whole new audience to the music.
“Sometimes it depends on the extremes musicians bring to it, such as how they dress it up while keeping the traditional element of the music recognizable,” says O’Brien.
O’Brien’s family is well entrenched in the second revival of Irish traditional music. In the early 1990’s his brother Con was part of a group called the Irish Descendants. A group of hearty baritone singers from the predominately Irish community of Bay Bulls, toured Canada and around the globe entertaining Queens, presidents, even the prestigious Smithsonian, in Washington. This of course led to the inspiration of Newfoundland’s current and most successful Celtic pop group Great Big Sea.
“In Newfoundland Irish music is becoming more sophisticated then the generation before. It’s become a big industry and people look to Newfoundland for Irish music,” says O’Brien.
One of the major problems in Newfoundland has been out migration. With Newfoundland being Canada’s poorest province, many popular singers have moved away for work, such as accordion player Harry Hibbs and singer/guitarist Dick Nolan, who in the 1970s entertained expatriated Newfoundlanders with traditional stylings at the popular Caribou Club in Toronto. This kind of thing still continues today in out migration destinations such as Boston, New York and the most well known in Canada, Fort McMurray, Alberta.
Many people wonder with the older musicians in these communities passing on, if the many traditional elements of Irish music will be lost. Although amateur accordion musician Dave Penny says rural Irish communities are not letting their music die without a fight.
“When I was growing up in Eastport, Newfoundland none of my friends were not into Irish music. I mean you would be ashamed to bring an accordion out into the public and play it. But now that has all changed. I mean last week I went to a accordion festival here and all the seats in the place were sold out. The funny thing was, most of these performers were young people.”
Penny is also the President of the St.John’s Folk Arts Counsel, which hold workshops teaching younger audiences about traditional Irish instrumentation, story telling and dance music. The interesting thing is the SJFAC hasn’t been holding publicity drives in order to get younger people involved they have been seeking them out.
This years marks the 30th anniversary of the organization, which is still going strong. Their annual folk festival is one of the largest Irish festivals in Eastern Canada. And every year their mandate is to keep the music pure.
“Over the years traditional music in the province has changed. You might hear country and rock music intertwined within some of it, but we want to promote the music of Newfoundland which is primarily Irish based,” says Penny
And that purity hasn’t died out entirely according to O’Byrne, “traditional Newfoundland music has developed over the years from the English dances, Irish polkas, Irish and English songs, Irish American songs, and French and Scottish melodies and songs. However there are still many influences from the more modern interpretation of Irish music in the old country being used by young professional Newfoundland traditional bands today.”
Let hope it continues.

Next Page »