Mairtín O'Connor, Cathal Hayden and Micheál Ó Domhnaill and Lúnasa, Beo Celtic Music Festival, NCH
This may have been only their third gig together, but Mairtín O'Connor, Cathal Hayden and Micheál Ó Domhnaill play like siblings with a shared inheritance, if not a shared tour bus. Mairtín's box could have been a cattle prod to the proceedings, but instead was a buoy that kept the music and the spirits high throughout the night.
Hayden's strength is in his ability to stretch and bend notes as if he were navigating a path down the Mississippi. His lonesome tones would probably be as much at home in Lafayette or Baton Rouge as they are in Omagh or Enniskillen. Marrying his fiddle with O'Connor's skittish accordion, Hayden hurtled through hornpipes, jigs and reels with the dexterity of the native speaker, fluent not just in the language, but in a rake of dialects as well.
Ó Domhnaill's guitar was the ideal hammock for the trio. Treating us to a sublime reading of Lord Franklin, as well as a heady version of Mo Ghiolla Meár, we were reminded of why the Bothy Band and others sought out his favours so fervently. O'Connor's whistle stop tour of his own material, from the virtuoso The Road West to a set of reels that included The Galway Rambler and Come West Along The Road, left his audience in a perfect state of agitation: gasping for more and seeking out his back catalogue with fervent devotion. A spirit-soaring session.
Liz and Yvonne Kane gallantly held forth during the interval, battling against the unwelcoming surrounds of the John Field Room, and the apathy of the audience.
Seasoned performers, Lúnasa sidle on stage as cosily as they would a cornerhouse or a parlour, Crawford's affability and wry sense of humour a natural calling card for the band. Their insistence on showcasing the spectacularly new as well as the dog-eared tunes, sets Lúnasa apart.
Diarmuid Moynihan's Malbay Shuffle whispers of a tunesmith of considerable talent, while their Clare tunes including Aoibhneas Uí Cheallaigh and the flippant Not Safe With A Razor reveal the essential democratic spirit of their playing.
Cillian Vallely's piping gets better and better, Trevor Hutchinson's bass finds new spaces to inhabit as he gets deeper beneath the skin of the music, and Crawford's whistles, flutes and bodhrán whup it all up with a passion that wouldn't be lost in a mart or a house of worship. Merry men indeed. We could hardly wipe the smile off our faces as we headed home.
Beo continues at the NCH until Sunday
