Singing to bond, an night in Kilkenny

by Isaya Schwaar (France)

Making a local connection Ireland

So it's may 2018, eight months after my life collapsed. I’m in Ireland for a solitary road trip ... In the evening, I’d ask the usually friendly B&B owner “Where is the pub where musicians gather?” … because you see in Ireland there always is one... Or I’d wander the streets of the villages until I heard the music … This particular night, May 12th, I'm in Kilkenny… Beautiful weather, sun slowly setting, I'm rambling along the streets, feeling tired. Shops are closed already and so are tourist attractions. Passing by, I hear “The lonesome boatman” a famous Irish tune. I feel emotional and called to step in the pub. There is a two men band, a whistles player who also plays the banjo, and an older guitarist. I stay for an hour, enchanted by the musicians, singing along and even making a request. Fast forward a couple of hours, a nice dinner, and some more music, and I‘m ready to go to sleep. I start walking back towards my eagerly awaited bed. And then I hear some music … Towards the end of Parliament Street on the left hand side going north, is a row of pubs. In the first one I enter, a bunch of traditional musicians plays jigs and reels with fiddles, guitars, whistles, banjos, and a couple of bodhrans of course. I stay for a while, enjoying the joyful harmonies... OK... back to bed … but then... I hear some music. There are three lovely women singing in the next pub, and I am truly bewitched by their voices … But they’re ending their set... If you ever get to hear them, their stunning band is called Sola. By then it is almost midnight and I am honestly exhausted... so I leave the pub... only to enter the next one... And that is to be the moment when I understand what music means to Irish people, and when this trip actually changes my life. So I come into this tiny pub, overcrowded with musicians. There must be at least six people playing the guitar, a couple of banjo players, maybe fiddles. On top of that a few people only seem to be "the public" … The musicians play together although it is clear they’re not used to. A couple of drinks later, I realize that I've actually seen most of the musicians in the other pubs I visited earlier. There's this guy who plays banjo, whistle and flute who was also singing … When our eyes connect he actually recognizes me too. I guess my singing along before wasn't that bad, since he turns to me and asks if I would chose a song to sing. I suggest “The fields of Athenry”. And the whole pub sings with us. Later, almost everyone gets to choose a song and we all sing together for more than an hour. The next morning, after digging a little on the internet, I realize that I spent a couple of hours singing with professional musicians, some of whom are seriously famous, the banjo and whistles player actually being Davey Cashin, of The Kilkennys. Although the connection never included a proper conversation with any of those amazing musicians, in the last pub or any other, what this evening made me comprehend is that songs are made to be shared, sung and played together, and not to be listened to. These encounters opened my heart to a different way of experiencing music and of connecting with other human beings when travelling. This evening changed my beliefs around the possibilities of meeting people on a deep level. I have endless gratitude for the musicians that night who included, not only me, but all the other "audience" members, whether this very drunk German guy who wanted to belt out yodeling songs, or that young couple from Colorado on their honeymoon singing “When I'm 64” by The Beatles. I feel humbled by each and every one of them. And if you ever go through the amazing town of Kilkenny, make sure to push every pub’s door where you can hear music being played … and dare to join in. I guarantee you won't regret it.