Irish Timeswriters reivew Maighread and Tríona Ní Dhomhnaillat the Project, Dublin; Thomas the Tank Engine and Friendsat the RDS; and Jack Penateat the Button Factory, Dublin.
Maighread and Tríona Ní Dhomhnaill at the Project, Dublin
From their opening exhortation to the audience to treat the black box of the Project as if it were "just a big kitchen", the duelling fiddlers, Aidan O'Donnell and Ciarán Ó Maonaigh, hit the ground running. Although their repertoire could never deny their Donegal provenance, they're no hostages to fortune, opting instead for bold interpretations of classic tunes borrowed from the likes of John Doherty, Francie Mooney and Vincent Campbell.
They relished the cross-fertilisation of German barn dances with native companion pieces, such as Francie Mooney's bequest, If There Weren't Any Women in the World. Far from the lament that its title might suggest, O'Donnell and Ó Maonaigh jousted with the skeleton of the tune, merging and diverging from the basic melody line, and delighting in the rhythmic bow-play it encouraged them to explore.
Keenly attuned to the night's headliners, a pair of singers who between them (and their late brother, Micheál) have come to embody the quintessence of Donegal song, Ó Maonaigh tackled the Donegal song, Mo Shean Dún na nGall, with the ear of a musician who knows that, to truly inhabit it, he had to understand its every syllable and nuance.
O'Donnell's delicate bowing and intricate finger work glistened, an unexpected discovery in a night packed with superb musicianship. He is a first-rate musician in the making, with a dry wit that merely embellishes his tunes further.
Languishing beneath the weight of a hefty chest cold, Maighread Ní Dhomhnaill's speaking voice struggled throughout the evening, yet as soon as she sang, all traces of ailment were lost in the ether. Her and Tríona's voices could hardly be more different, Maighread reaching for the upper echelons while Tríona's bass notes colour and shade, ebb and flow, along an invisible boundary that could only be navigated by siblings.
Maighread's reading of Dónall Óg, a heartbreaking tale of co-dependency more evocative than all the counselling tomes in print, was a reminder of just how effectively she has made it her own, her instinctive phrasing and genteel delivery underscoring the essential trauma at its core. Tríona's humour made a welcome return with Kitty from Ballinamore and The Factory Girl, while her own composition, Sun on the Water, whispered of a musician savouring her music now more than ever.
Refreshingly, the sisters Ní Dhomhnaill chose to close with a delightful version of the bawdy love song, Still I Love Him, wisely resting the overworked The Spanish Lady, a song with which Maighread will ever be associated.
It was that kind of occasion, a chance to cast off elements of the past and revisit some others, rejuvenated and invigorated by yet another swathe of finely wrought songs from Rannafast and other points north-west. SIOBHÁN LONG
Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends at the RDS, Dublin
The precise location of the island of Sodor, home of Thomas the Tank Engine, has always been a bit of a mystery. But on a wet morning it became apparent that it is surrounded by the sea of pre-school boys (along with a smattering of girls) that overwhelmed Simmonscourt.
The storyline presented by the international entertainment engine, Themestar and Hit Entertainment, is a familiar scenario of disaster (storm damage) threatening to ruin events (the planned Magic Lantern Festival), but with hard work and team effort by Useful Engines, Thomas saves the day. As preparations for the festival start, the story moves from Tidmouth Sheds - where we first meet Thomas, Percy, a Troublesome Truck and Diesel, and their drivers - to the quarry, the countryside and the mine.
The set, which changes frequently, is impressive, with the engines whirling around on their stage tracks and chuffing through tunnels in the twinkly diamond mine.
The exuberant and enthusiastic seven-strong cast (four members make their professional debuts in this production) play 15 characters and belt out all the songs. There is much audience participation, with everyone adding their peep-peeps and whoo-whoos to the cast's chugga-chuggas. The Fat Controller (Dean Nolan) is an imposing figure, and while there are plenty of opportunities for his "causing confusion and delay" catchphrase, the characterisation is well-judged, with Nolan cheerfully interrupting his lines to "high-five" one of the Thomas fans dancing around his feet.
My fellow reviewers (aged two and three-quarters and four-and-a-half) were especially taken with the scene where Percy got caught in a fall of rocks, and with the sheep (Amanda-Jane Short) sle-e-e-e-eping on the line (much whoo-whoo-ing was needed to wake her).
With tickets costing up to €20 per child and €27 per adult, not to mention the Thomas merchandising, it's an expensive, if enjoyable, 90 minutes. And when the lanterns were finally lit, and the team saved the festival, no amount of rain could dampen the spirits of the many aspiring train drivers. You'd still miss Ringo Starr, though. JOYCE HICKEY
Jack Peñate at the Button Factory, Dublin
Jack's back! Less than six months after Peñate performed that strange dance he does to a devoted Sugar Club crowd, he made his return to the capital. The new young breed of singers (Peñate, Adele, Kate Nash, and so on) understand that a vital way of earning the love from fans' hearts and pennies from their pockets is a rigorous touring schedule, wringing every last note out of a single album.
While the album in question here, Matinee, has been the recipient of a worrying number of average reviews, the reaction to Peñate's live show has been kinder, and it's easy to see why. Bounding on to the stage with his three-piece band, the sprightly young Londoner displayed the energy of a wind-up bunny over the course of an hour.
The 23-year-old's brand of ska-influenced pop made him one to watch throughout last year. Run for Your Life, a song about being mugged, is a well-formed, cleverly worded pop song, while the undeniably catchy recent single, Have I Been a Fool?, got everyone dancing.
His onstage modesty, whether it was genuine or not, endeared him to a young audience full of girls who may have wanted to be with him and boys who, if they didn't want to be him, probably wanted to be his mate.
The former public school boy accentuated his Cockney accent on Learning Lines and even when he slowed the pace down, there was more smooch than schmaltz in the ballad, My Yvonne.
A peculiar penchant for spitting onstage came to a head on Spit at Stars, when Peñate invited fans to spit at him during the chorus of the song and the crowd duly obliged, in a four-minute period that was equally disgusting and hilarious.
Two new songs in the set suggested more material cut from the same cloth, but the encore included the introspective When We Die, a song that hints at a depth Peñate would be wise to develop.
Giddy, relentless and endlessly fun, this gig was the perfect foil for one of the wettest nights of the year. BRIAN KEANE
