Like a session, but without pints

Five years ago the National Concert Hall was nervous about Beo, its festival of Celtic music

Five years ago the National Concert Hall was nervous about Beo, its festival of Celtic music. The gamble has paid off, writes Siobhán Long

Now we've dragged fiddles, boxes and bows from the confines of hearth and snug, cross-fertilising them, shaking and stirring them and exposing them to all manner of other traditions, it seems fitting that traditional music's coming of age should be celebrated on the beaches, in the bars and, for the past five years, in the National Concert Hall.

For some trad fans the prospect of hearing a tune without a drink and a cigarette would have seemed unconscionable, but thanks to Micheál Martin's single mindedness and our exposure to an ever-expanding array of alternative music most of us have had to wise up to the fact that tradition does not equal stagnation.

Thankfully, new blood invigorates rather than calcifies, and in recent years this openness to placing the music in new contexts has seen it garner new listeners.

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The National Concert Hall initiated Beo, its Celtic-music festival, back in 1999, with no small trepidation. It need not have worried: even the scantest glance at the industry revealed an increasingly sophisticated breed of performer, well versed in the language of theatre and just as comfortable perched beneath the NCH's magnificent organ as in the belly of the pub session.

This year's festival has drawn together an eclectic mix of artists who promise much in the way of innovation. Altan, Donegal's supreme gathering of traditional musicians, are no strangers to the challenges a classical venue such as the NCH poses, and they relish it unapologetically. Ciarán Tourish of the band says: "We play this type of hall all over the world, and we've grown to love them. The prestige of the National Concert Hall might put some people off, but, personally, I like a big venue like that.

"For example, I find that playing Ionad Cois Locha, in Donegal, is more intimidating. I don't know whether that's because I can see the whites of the audience's eyes or because I know every one of them personally. I like a big venue where you can't see the audience and where you can get the crowd on your side."

Carlos Núñez, the Galician piper who was introduced to Irish audiences as a guest with The Chieftains in 1989, at the tender age of 17, relishes the chance to play and listen to a wide range of music when he visits Dublin. "Irish traditional music is very special," he says. "In fact it is one of the most important living traditions in the world, like flamenco. In Ireland we find the music and its authentic spirit alive and well. At the same time the thing we call Celtic music, this common language, is becoming a universal music, like classical music and like flamenco music can be. So many people all over the world, not just in Galicia or Ireland or Scotland, love and play this music: in Australia, in Japan and in South America. So little by little it's becoming universal."

Núñez is equally enthused by the prospect of letting his beloved gaita, or Iberian bagpipe, breathe deep in the venue's airy surrounds, having trained both as a classical and as a traditional musician.

"I remember Matt Molloy [of The Chieftains\] told me years ago: 'Carlos, to be a musician in Ireland you have to be a soloist,' " he recalls. "You have to develop your own possibilities, and this is something that classical music gives you, this sense of discipline, and I think there's a natural connection between classical and traditional music. Classical music has been so inspired by traditional music and vice versa. I still think there's so much left to do in the arrangement of music with traditional musicians and classical orchestras."

The setting is therefore irrelevant, he says. "Seán Keane of The Chieftains told me many years ago that he never forgot a concert he was at in the concert hall years before with the maestro \ Segovia, the Spanish classical guitarist," he says. "He was so amazed by the way Segovia could play this popular instrument in a classical hall.

"I think the theatres are perfect for listening to some kinds of music, because people can concentrate and listen carefully. The message and the spirit of the music is stronger there. I played in that concert hall for the first time a few years ago, and for me, as a Celtic musician, it was like what it must feel like for an opera singer to play in La Scala, in Milan."

The potential for expanding their audience by playing in alternative venues is also clear to Altan. "I'm sure there are people who would go to the concert hall who wouldn't necessarily queue up for other venues in the town," says Tourish, "so I think it opens you to a different audience. It's good for the music to have it in a slightly more formal situation, presented on that kind of a stage, where the band can feel good not just about the sound of the music but about getting a good visual there as well. I think it's got to be good for the music."

Altan are preparing to return to the studio after the success of their last album, 2002's Blue Idol. For any band that have been together for a long time, says Tourish, returning to the core of the music is an essential part of their annual health check.

"I think we're going to bring it back to basics this time around and focus mainly just on the band. We always sit down and discuss where we're going as a band, and we're always on the lookout for new ideas and new tunes, but I'd like to think we always look outwards as well as inwards.

"We've always tried to develop and to keep the music fresh, and it's worked for us so far. Luckily, within the Donegal tradition there's such a wealth of material there that there seems to be no end to it at all. Most members of the band write tunes too, so that always adds fresh air to the equation."

Núñez wastes no time in returning to the music's core either, whether in preparation for a live performance or for the recording studio.

"During the Flight of the Earls many Irish came to the north-west of Spain," he says, "and our shared story is something that still has so much energy.

"There are many mythologies that simply don't ring true, but this is one that certainly does. For me it means that there is always something new to explore, something new to learn and to experiment with."

The ESB Beo Festival starts at the National Concert Hall today, www.nch.ie