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Ceiliuradh is the Gaelic word for celebration; and a warm April evening finds a ceiliuradh to end all ceiliuradhs at the Royal Albert Hall. The guest of honour is Michael D Higgins, the first Irish president to make an official state visit to Britain, and practically every star with an emerald connection has come out to mark the occasion. Elvis Costello, Imelda May and Villagers' Conor O'Brien share a microphone; Fiona Shaw reads Yeats, Dermot O'Leary reads the autocue. Yet the prestige of closing the event goes to the Gloaming – a band whose first album was released in January and has only infrequently performed live.Ceiliuradh is the Gaelic word for celebration; and a warm April evening finds a ceiliuradh to end all ceiliuradhs at the Royal Albert Hall. The guest of honour is Michael D Higgins, the first Irish president to make an official state visit to Britain, and practically every star with an emerald connection has come out to mark the occasion. Elvis Costello, Imelda May and Villagers' Conor O'Brien share a microphone; Fiona Shaw reads Yeats, Dermot O'Leary reads the autocue. Yet the prestige of closing the event goes to the Gloaming – a band whose first album was released in January and has only infrequently performed live.
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The five members of the Gloaming have independently successful careers in the folk and classical fields, though nothing that would obviously place them above the Costello/May/Villagers axis of celebrity. The hypnotic, 20-minute piece that they play is equally enigmatic. An exposed vocal sung in medieval Gaelic becomes swathed in unearthly, droning fiddles, harp-like guitar and abstract washes of jazz piano. It sounds closer to a piece of contemporary chamber music than a traditional tune, though the players improvise freely. For the climax, the band accelerate into an exhilarating reel; and when the audience – President Higgins included – rise to their feet, no one in the hall seems quite sure what they have heard, though they've never heard anything quite like it before.The five members of the Gloaming have independently successful careers in the folk and classical fields, though nothing that would obviously place them above the Costello/May/Villagers axis of celebrity. The hypnotic, 20-minute piece that they play is equally enigmatic. An exposed vocal sung in medieval Gaelic becomes swathed in unearthly, droning fiddles, harp-like guitar and abstract washes of jazz piano. It sounds closer to a piece of contemporary chamber music than a traditional tune, though the players improvise freely. For the climax, the band accelerate into an exhilarating reel; and when the audience – President Higgins included – rise to their feet, no one in the hall seems quite sure what they have heard, though they've never heard anything quite like it before.
The Gloaming was founded by Martin Hayes, a virtuoso fiddle player from County Clare, and is as close as traditional Irish music comes to a supergroup. "The way it happened was that I told some people I was thinking about starting a band," Hayes says. "Then they told some other people who booked a concert at the National Concert Hall in Dublin. It was sold out before we'd even rehearsed a note together."The Gloaming was founded by Martin Hayes, a virtuoso fiddle player from County Clare, and is as close as traditional Irish music comes to a supergroup. "The way it happened was that I told some people I was thinking about starting a band," Hayes says. "Then they told some other people who booked a concert at the National Concert Hall in Dublin. It was sold out before we'd even rehearsed a note together."
Hayes, three-times Irish fiddle champion, is one of the country's most revered traditional musicians: expectations for the new band were bound to be high. It includes renowned sean-nós ("old style") vocalist Iarla O Lionáird, who brought worldwide exposure to the Irish language as the voice of the Afro Celt Sound System. Joining them are Dennis Cahill, a US guitarist of Irish descent steeped in the jazz and blues of his native Chicago; the young Dublin fiddler Caoimhín O Raghallaigh, and New-York based pianist Thomas Bartlett, whose minimalistic style is closer to Steve Reich than sean-nós and who was once described by Antony Hegarty as "the only piano player in the world who can truly follow me".Hayes, three-times Irish fiddle champion, is one of the country's most revered traditional musicians: expectations for the new band were bound to be high. It includes renowned sean-nós ("old style") vocalist Iarla O Lionáird, who brought worldwide exposure to the Irish language as the voice of the Afro Celt Sound System. Joining them are Dennis Cahill, a US guitarist of Irish descent steeped in the jazz and blues of his native Chicago; the young Dublin fiddler Caoimhín O Raghallaigh, and New-York based pianist Thomas Bartlett, whose minimalistic style is closer to Steve Reich than sean-nós and who was once described by Antony Hegarty as "the only piano player in the world who can truly follow me".
Bartlett grew up in northern Vermont where his school friends included folk innovator Sam Amidon and composer Nico Muhly. He had a precocious obsession with Martin Hayes's fiddle-playing from an early age. "When I was about 12 I persuaded my parents to take a vacation to Ireland so that I could follow Martin on tour," he says. "After the fourth or fifth night, he must have begun to wonder who was this freakish little boy grinning in the front row, and came over to introduce himself. I desperately wanted him to come to Vermont, so when I got back, I contacted his manager."Bartlett grew up in northern Vermont where his school friends included folk innovator Sam Amidon and composer Nico Muhly. He had a precocious obsession with Martin Hayes's fiddle-playing from an early age. "When I was about 12 I persuaded my parents to take a vacation to Ireland so that I could follow Martin on tour," he says. "After the fourth or fifth night, he must have begun to wonder who was this freakish little boy grinning in the front row, and came over to introduce himself. I desperately wanted him to come to Vermont, so when I got back, I contacted his manager."
"This must have been in the early days of email," Hayes adds. "Because it wasn't until I was practically on the plane that I suddenly twigged – have I just been booked to play in America by a 12-year-old promoter?""This must have been in the early days of email," Hayes adds. "Because it wasn't until I was practically on the plane that I suddenly twigged – have I just been booked to play in America by a 12-year-old promoter?"
Sam Amidon's parents – who were influential in the local folk scene – offered to help; a hall that usually hosted contra-dances was booked, and a good time had by all. Bartlett later moved to New York, where he played piano for David Byrne, Yoko Ono and the National, among others. But he and Hayes remained in touch, and when the fiddler began thinking about an Irish-American folk-classical hybrid, Bartlett seemed the ideal fit. Iarla O Lionáird recalls being invited to meet them at a rehearsal room in New York. "At that first session I didn't even sing," he says, "I was too over-awed, I just sat and listened to Martin and Thomas. They make fiddle tunes sound cinematic, as if opening them out into widescreen. It made me think of Copland's Appalachian Spring - the old world experiencing the American landscape."Sam Amidon's parents – who were influential in the local folk scene – offered to help; a hall that usually hosted contra-dances was booked, and a good time had by all. Bartlett later moved to New York, where he played piano for David Byrne, Yoko Ono and the National, among others. But he and Hayes remained in touch, and when the fiddler began thinking about an Irish-American folk-classical hybrid, Bartlett seemed the ideal fit. Iarla O Lionáird recalls being invited to meet them at a rehearsal room in New York. "At that first session I didn't even sing," he says, "I was too over-awed, I just sat and listened to Martin and Thomas. They make fiddle tunes sound cinematic, as if opening them out into widescreen. It made me think of Copland's Appalachian Spring - the old world experiencing the American landscape."
Hayes also brought his longstanding musical partner, Dennis Cahill, into the fold. But he still felt there was something missing. "I realised that as the lone fiddle player up against all this big piano and guitar, I was going to need some reinforcement," he says. Recruiting young Dublin fiddler Caoimhín O Raghallaigh was almost like bringing two further violinists on board, as he is an exponent of the hardanger fiddle, a traditional Norwegian instrument with double the usual number of strings.Hayes also brought his longstanding musical partner, Dennis Cahill, into the fold. But he still felt there was something missing. "I realised that as the lone fiddle player up against all this big piano and guitar, I was going to need some reinforcement," he says. Recruiting young Dublin fiddler Caoimhín O Raghallaigh was almost like bringing two further violinists on board, as he is an exponent of the hardanger fiddle, a traditional Norwegian instrument with double the usual number of strings.
The hardanger's curious construction (the regular strings run parallel to an un-bowed, drone set beneath) gives the Gloaming's music its eerie, ethereal quality. "When I discovered the hardanger fiddle, it was as if I'd found the means to express the sounds I was hearing in my head," O Raghallaigh says. "It has a breathy, vocal quality which enables you to imitate a set of uilleann pipes. And you can make some wonderfully ugly noises with it."The hardanger's curious construction (the regular strings run parallel to an un-bowed, drone set beneath) gives the Gloaming's music its eerie, ethereal quality. "When I discovered the hardanger fiddle, it was as if I'd found the means to express the sounds I was hearing in my head," O Raghallaigh says. "It has a breathy, vocal quality which enables you to imitate a set of uilleann pipes. And you can make some wonderfully ugly noises with it."
Even with all the components in place, there was no guarantee that the Gloaming would gel before its high-profile debut. "There was huge potential for failure. Embarrassing failure," Hayes admits. The secret, O Lionáird believes, was to keep things spontaneous. "I came to the initial sessions with a big pile of books and opened them at random. Song 44 – which became the opening track of the album – is just where the anthology happened to fall open that day."Even with all the components in place, there was no guarantee that the Gloaming would gel before its high-profile debut. "There was huge potential for failure. Embarrassing failure," Hayes admits. The secret, O Lionáird believes, was to keep things spontaneous. "I came to the initial sessions with a big pile of books and opened them at random. Song 44 – which became the opening track of the album – is just where the anthology happened to fall open that day."
The usual approach to a traditional Irish reel is to tear through the melody at blistering pace, and then speed up. The Gloaming, by contrast, set themselves the challenge of playing as slowly as possible. Their take on an ubiquitous air such as The Sailor's Bonnet becomes an unhurried meditation of exquisite poise and delicacy. "To be honest, I never particularly cared for that tune until I found myself having to teach it," Hayes says. "Everyone in the class wanted to play fast; but ... it's only when you stop and slow things right down that you realise just how much music these ancient tunes have in them."The usual approach to a traditional Irish reel is to tear through the melody at blistering pace, and then speed up. The Gloaming, by contrast, set themselves the challenge of playing as slowly as possible. Their take on an ubiquitous air such as The Sailor's Bonnet becomes an unhurried meditation of exquisite poise and delicacy. "To be honest, I never particularly cared for that tune until I found myself having to teach it," Hayes says. "Everyone in the class wanted to play fast; but ... it's only when you stop and slow things right down that you realise just how much music these ancient tunes have in them."
"Martin and I belong to the last generation to have learned the music at first-hand, sitting at the master's knee," he continues. "But at the same time we never pretended not to have listened to other things. We were into the Beatles, we were into Abba, Talking Heads, Patti Smith, Philip Glass. The Gloaming is a curious kind of band. Not everyone will like it. Traditional music can be suspicious of innovation - my father, for example, was my greatest musical mentor, but I'm not sure he would have entirely approved. But at this point in my life, I felt that I had to try and make music that my father wouldn't like." O Lionáird says: "Martin and I belong to the last generation to have learned the music at first-hand, sitting at the master's knee. But at the same time we never pretended not to have listened to other things. We were into the Beatles, we were into Abba, Talking Heads, Patti Smith, Philip Glass. The Gloaming is a curious kind of band. Not everyone will like it. Traditional music can be suspicious of innovation - my father, for example, was my greatest musical mentor, but I'm not sure he would have entirely approved. But at this point in my life, I felt that I had to try and make music that my father wouldn't like."
Among the highlights of the album is a setting of the poem Saoirse (Freedom) by Gaelic poet Seán O Ríordáin, who drank at the same pub in West Cork where O Lionáird learned to sing. "It contains a beautiful image of a farmer tossing a handful of seeds into the air to gauge which way the wind is blowing," O Lionáird says. "That's what I want our music to convey - the stillness before the seeds begin to fall."Among the highlights of the album is a setting of the poem Saoirse (Freedom) by Gaelic poet Seán O Ríordáin, who drank at the same pub in West Cork where O Lionáird learned to sing. "It contains a beautiful image of a farmer tossing a handful of seeds into the air to gauge which way the wind is blowing," O Lionáird says. "That's what I want our music to convey - the stillness before the seeds begin to fall."
• The Gloaming play Womad on 27 July. Details: womad.co.uk• The Gloaming play Womad on 27 July. Details: womad.co.uk
• This article was amended on 25 July 2014. In an earlier version, the quote beginning "Martin and I belong to the last generation…" was misattributed to Martin Hayes.