Tradfest

You're very welcome to Tradfest, the Fingal Sessions.

We're coming to you from Ardgillan Castle in Domaine, here on the beautiful Fingal Coast, north of Dublin.

And in this episode, we are celebrating the essential and outstanding contribution that travelling people have made to Irish musical culture.

And I'm delighted to be joined by Thomas McCarthy, Sharyn Ward and Steo Wall.

Oh my people, my people, they roam those ancient fairs Bringing stories and the music of those old and ancient airs But they try to ban our culture and they try to stop our ways This spirit of a people they are trying to erase oh my people, my people, don't let them bring you down Because your rich history is written, on every stone in every town oh my people, my people Don't let them keep you down Because your rich history is paved on every road in every town on the winds of change I can hear the lullaby Of the bell-well peckered dawn, with the teardrop in his eye And Johnny Canaan and Teddy Fury And old John Riley too You were the guardians of our culture and we will always remember you, oh my people, my people Don't let them bring you down Because your rich history is written on every stone in every town oh my people, my people Don't let them keep you down Because your rich history is paved on every road in every town [Music] Now Maggie partied with her banjo And those ancient Gaelic airs of the Piper John Carl He passed the flame down through the years To Johnny Doran and Felix Those gypsy Piper Kings, You inspire generations And your names you'll forever sing oh my people, my people, Don't let them bring you down Because your rich history is written on every stone in every town oh my people, my people Don't let them keep you down Because your rich history is paved on every road in every town oh my people, my people Don't let them keep you down Because your rich history is paved on every road in every town Beautiful.

Lovely.

Steele.

That was beautiful.

I'm from Dublin but I live in County Clare.

I rent a house off an old farmer down there and my son's names are Adam and Felix after Felix Doran and when I told the farmer that he said "oh my god" he said "there used to be pipers travel down here many many years ago called Johnny and Felix Doran" and I said "they were my ancestors" he said "they're my grandmother's people" and he was blown away and he drove up to his house and he brought back a book, the book that Tommy Fagan, the head of O'Connell had written called "Free Spirits".

They haven't dealt with all the traveling people within this book, these are the predominant traveler, the most important figures of the 21st century of Irish travelers, instrument makers, the door and pipers, the dawns, the rainies.

And so that's where my journey into trying to understand and gain knowledge into the impact that the Irish travelers have had on Irish child and folk music, you know.

Because it's usually important, you know, like that we start these conversations in festivals like this because our music and our culture is celebrated on the four corners of the globe.

And people come from the four corners to festivals like this to celebrate it, which is rightly so.

But the vast majority of people that come to these festivals might not know about the huge impact that the Irish travelling people have had on the music, you know.

Sharyn, it's great to meet you.

You have a beautiful song, which maybe we'll talk about a little bit after you sing it.

Oh, where have all the travelling people gone?

Now that all their work on Earth is done My mind wanders as I stare up at the stars and moon one day I'll be up there with them too oh, where do all the travelling people go?

The ones I remember from years ago Are they gone to be safe in a beautiful place?

Have they each got a star of their own?

Oh, where have all my lovely people gone That felt they were destroyed one by one?

Are they roaming and travelling without any fear?

So much happiness and freedom up there.

Oh, where have all the traveling people gone?

Up in heaven, so happy with all their loved ones.

No discrimination, her name called in just a peaceful place.

Close my eyes and try to imagine what it's like up there.

And God, can you tell him I said hello?

And that my heart is broke for some who had to go?

But can they mind us and guide us from above?

And help us always live the life we love?

Have all the traveling people gone?

Now that all their work on Earth is done, My mind wanders as I stare up at the stars and roam.

One day I'll be up there with them too.

Beautiful, what a beautiful song.

Thank you so much.

Thank you for helping me, that was lovely.

That's a song of your own?

Yeah, that's a song I wrote just sitting at home one night in the camp and sitting there thinking, well Traveller people, obviously we have great faith in God and that's another thing we've kept strong and I do truly believe there's a heaven.

Travelers find great peace in knowing that there's somewhere for us to go after Earth and we believe very strongly in heaven so when I was just sitting outside one night and I was literally thinking, where do the Traveller people go like?

And what would it be like to be, if there is this place with the white clouds and the nice people, what would it be like to be there and to not be different than anyone and everyone is the same and there is no discrimination and how peaceful, particularly my father must have been sitting up there in heaven for the first time in his life where I should have been grieving him but in a way I was nearly relieved for him and that is where all them words come, like there is a sad side to it but in another way, if you think of from my point of view on that night, I was kind of relieved for him in a way.

Yes.

Because he battled, you know, all travellers had their battles on Earth.

Yeah.

Do you know?

Not encouraging anyone to go early, like writing, you know what I mean?

It was just in my way, it was my way to comfort myself through grief.

There's a sort of a grace in that, isn't there?

Yeah, it's just like, I felt like I wanted to do a Traveller, like an anthem as such, like where everybody felt something from the song, or everybody felt like whoever they had lost.

It was a lot about suicide at the time, and our suicide rates, and I suppose it was nearly a song of comfort for my people, that I know we've dealt with all these things, but can you imagine how beautiful heaven is now, where they're all dealing with none of that bull that we had to deal with on Earth.

Do you get me?

Thomas, can I come to you?

You have a store of songs, I believe.

Would you give us one?

I will.

I'll do a song that my mother used to do.

It was a favourite amongst travellers and gypsies.

It's about a poor boy that gets to marry a rich lady.

Wishful thinking.

I'll do the song and it's called "Green Brooms."

There was an old man He lived in the west His trade was the cutting of brooms, green brooms He had a son, his name was Jack He stayed up in the bed till bright noon, bright noon up in the bed till bright noon The old father arose and up to Jack goes.

He swore he would burn down his room, his room.

If he didn't arise, open your eyes, go to the greenwoods, cut brooms, cut brooms, go to the greenwoods to cut brooms.

Jack he did rise, he sharpened his knives, he went out to the greenwoods to cut brooms, cut brooms.

At the markets, the fairs, he cries everywhere, "Oh fair maids, will you buy my brooms, green brooms?

Fair maids, will you buy my green brooms?"

Jack rambled out through the green woods alone, He came to a castle of stone, great stone.

He rapped at the door as he oft did before, Crying, "Maids, will you buy my brooms?

Green brooms?

Maids, will you buy my green brooms?"

A lady up high, Jack she did spy, she marveling much at his bloom, his bloom.

Quickly she said to her servant maid, "Go fetch me that lad who sells brooms, green brooms.

Fetch me that lad who sells brooms."

Jack he came back, up the stairs he did go, he entered that fair lady's room, her room.

"Jack, oh," says she, "could you fancy me?

Will you marry a lady in bloom, in bloom?

Would you marry a lady in bloom?

Jack gave consent to the church the boat went.

He married this lady in bloom, in bloom.

Says she, I do confess there's none in the West Is as good as the lad who sells brooms, green brooms As good as the lad who sells brooms Wow, Thomas, thank you so much, my goodness That is extraordinary singing I've never heard singing like that.

To us, the voice is the first instrument So the pipes were designed to copy the voice It's the nearest instrument to the voice You know, of all the wind instruments, the pipes were designed.

This was always an old story amongst the travelling people.

In ancient times, the voice was the most prized instrument and it still is.

I found it fascinating just listening to you there because the ornamentation is a comparison with Chandos but it's something else as well.

It's something otherworldly.

In England years ago they'd say, "We have a kind of vibrato" and I didn't know, I never heard of that word.

The word vibrato, yeah.

And I thought, "What's the animal?"

And then I kind of guessed it.

I said, "Do you mean the warble?"

Warble, yeah.

And he said, because that's what my mother would say, "Put the warble into your voice, you're not using any."

Because I wouldn't be... When I was young I could go way overboard with it, do you know what I mean?

And so I stopped kind of doing it and she said "No, put the warble into your voice" and my mother was really... That's what makes you though, isn't it?

That's what makes you unique, is that noise, like that sound.

Yeah, kind of.

But people say "oh, it's an old traveller" I get [people] come up and they say "Is that an old traveller?"

Not "Is it?"

They say "That's an old traveller" and I say "What's wrong with you?"

It's for old Irish people used to sing like that.

Yeah.

And it was pointed out to me.

Because I thought, for years I thought "oh what's a travelling style?"

"Just travellers did it with the pipes."

No.

I didn't pick it up from the air or, you know.

But my mother sang like that, my grandfather sang like that.

The musical style of the travelling people is unique in and of itself as well because people play... There's wildness, there's fire in the music.

Travellers have this wild style.

It comes from suffering.

It comes from generational trauma.

The same things that we're talking about here, the Native Americans will be saying it, the First Nations of Australia.

It's the same suicide rates, addiction.

I'll say the thing, how indigenous people are treated.

We've actually met with Native Americans, Maori, the Aborigine people.

We've met these people and talked.

What people don't understand, certain people in the house, we have the same issues and problems that you have.

And I'm hearing the same thing.

I don't want to hear off of it any more than that.

I just want my kids to get on and have some form of security for my children.

So thank you for tuning in to Tradfest, the Fingal Sessions, coming to you here from Ardgillan Castle in Domain.

My thanks to Thomas McCarthy, to Sharyn Ward and to Steo Wall.

Your grandmother was a very important person in your life.

So I carry my grandparents with me everywhere.

This is Sarah Doran and Johnny Wall.

My grandmother, like Thomas and his stories and his own mother and Sharyn's people, Sharyn's father, the Elders are very important to us, 'cause we've much to learn from them.

And so my grandmother, no matter what market we were or what part of the country we were, she'd have a story related to that place.

And I got the art of singing and storytelling from my grandmother.

And she was related to the Doran Pipers as well, who we've spoke about their impact around the landscape of Irish music and culture.

And I think... it's like, we have much to learn.

Like there's a good bit done, but we've a good bit to do, you know?

And I think both of our communities have a lot to teach each other, if we can somehow find a way of bridging the gap, like, you know, and getting rid of the fear that we have of each other, like, you know.

So, here we go, clean version.

[ Music ] In the days of old, When stories were told in those gypsy pipers played, by the fire's light in the dead of the night, danced a young girl in a maze.

Well, her heart was true and her eyes were wise.

Her spirit was wild and free.

Here's to those days of the traveler's ways, and here's what she means to me.

Her name was Sarah Doran, and the traveler girl was she.

She was born and raised outside Wexford town, in a time that ceased to be.

And at fourteen years she married Big John Wall.

They had fourteen kids, they loved 'em all.

And though times were hard, living hand to mouth, life on the road, north and west, east and south.

They were simple days, living in simple ways, Tinkering pots and pans and living off the land.

Sarah Doran, traveler girl.

Sarah Doran, traveler girl.

[Piping intensifies] I still picture her face in a time and a place As I wake from a wonderful dream, and the smell of the old baked bread fills up my head and I long for those magical scenes Of when I was a boy The apple of his granny's eye And she, the centre of mine All the stories you told me never did bore me I wish I could remember them now oh, Sarah Doran, traveler girl Sarah Doran Traveler, girl.

[ Piping ] [ Piping ] [ Piping concludes ] [ outro music ]