I just got the news in this morning's email--no details yet, but he had been ill recently, and in hospital around the time Kitty Hayes died a couple of months ago.
(For those of you reading who aren't in the Irish trad scene, Paddy was a fiddler, and Kitty a concertina player. Both were of, as they say, an advanced age, and both were great musicians.)
I would not be at all surprised if Claire Keville does a tribute to Paddy on her radio show either on Clare FM this Tuesday or next. The show begins at 7pm Irish time, and I think it's archived online for a week afterward.
Showing posts with label trad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trad. Show all posts
Monday, June 30, 2008
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Cambridge Roundup
I'm well beyond the stage now of presenting any kind of coherent narrative of What Has Happened in Cambridge So Far, but it's about time I actually wrote something on the blog, however fun video clips are!
Now, what to write? Since I started this blog to talk around school, rather than to talk about it, I'll leave major commentary on the university for another time. I have met some cool people and am getting a lot of important research done, and that's enough about work for the moment. Most of y'all just want to hear what I'm cooking, anyway, or whether I've had any good tunes :-)
I reckon I'm nothing if not ornery, so what did I do within days of arriving in Cambridge, one of the most white-bread towns I've been in lately? I trekked out to the TK Maxx (yes, it's "TK," not "TJ" here) to get a towel, and happened upon a small non-stick wok for a fiver. I snapped it up, and it has been the inspiration for many a stir-fry since. I probably wouldn't have gotten the non-stick if I'd had a choice, but then again, it's nice not to have to fuss about the seasoning. I like the little thing (I think it's a 10-inch) so well I think I'm going to go to some trouble to get it back to Brooklyn.
As for what I'm cooking in it--I really have been living off stir-fry, especially since I came up with a sauce that masquerades as oyster sauce. The magic ingredient? Brown sugar! It's not rocket science, but I hadn't worked that one out before. So I've been making various versions of turkey (cheaper than chicken here, and sold in small breast portions) stir-fry, often with the big bean sprouts, which are cheap and plentiful here.
Last weekend, I also made a good mushroom/asparagus risotto; tonight I might make an arugula/lemon one, but we'll see.
Otherwise, I sheepishly admit, I have been eating a lot of Sainsbury's pre-prepared foods, some of which are quite good (although others are tasteless or downright vile). Still, even those are cheaper than eating out, and with the pound sterling clocking in at almost double the US dollar, eating out is not an option!
Sometime soon I'll blog about my ongoing art project, which involves the infamous Sainsbury's 'wheel of death'....
What else? As far as music goes, I've been listening obsessively to some old and new favorites:
1. Vivaldi's Concerto in B for Strings, RV 580, Op. 3, No.10, which I bought on iTunes the other night;
2. the as-yet unreleased Renminbi cd (they are Jenny's old band, and this album is going to be fantastic!);
3. Cat Power, various albums; and
4. Annie Lennox's new one.
And tunes: I haven't gone out to any sessions yet, as I hear the weekly one is crap, but I am now known to the crowd that organizes sessions somewhat surreptitiously, so I think I'll be fine....
Lots more to talk about, of course...including pithvier cake, recent episodes of the L Word, my run-in with the college cat, etc.--but I'll save that for another time.
Now, what to write? Since I started this blog to talk around school, rather than to talk about it, I'll leave major commentary on the university for another time. I have met some cool people and am getting a lot of important research done, and that's enough about work for the moment. Most of y'all just want to hear what I'm cooking, anyway, or whether I've had any good tunes :-)
I reckon I'm nothing if not ornery, so what did I do within days of arriving in Cambridge, one of the most white-bread towns I've been in lately? I trekked out to the TK Maxx (yes, it's "TK," not "TJ" here) to get a towel, and happened upon a small non-stick wok for a fiver. I snapped it up, and it has been the inspiration for many a stir-fry since. I probably wouldn't have gotten the non-stick if I'd had a choice, but then again, it's nice not to have to fuss about the seasoning. I like the little thing (I think it's a 10-inch) so well I think I'm going to go to some trouble to get it back to Brooklyn.
As for what I'm cooking in it--I really have been living off stir-fry, especially since I came up with a sauce that masquerades as oyster sauce. The magic ingredient? Brown sugar! It's not rocket science, but I hadn't worked that one out before. So I've been making various versions of turkey (cheaper than chicken here, and sold in small breast portions) stir-fry, often with the big bean sprouts, which are cheap and plentiful here.
Last weekend, I also made a good mushroom/asparagus risotto; tonight I might make an arugula/lemon one, but we'll see.
Otherwise, I sheepishly admit, I have been eating a lot of Sainsbury's pre-prepared foods, some of which are quite good (although others are tasteless or downright vile). Still, even those are cheaper than eating out, and with the pound sterling clocking in at almost double the US dollar, eating out is not an option!
Sometime soon I'll blog about my ongoing art project, which involves the infamous Sainsbury's 'wheel of death'....
What else? As far as music goes, I've been listening obsessively to some old and new favorites:
1. Vivaldi's Concerto in B for Strings, RV 580, Op. 3, No.10, which I bought on iTunes the other night;
2. the as-yet unreleased Renminbi cd (they are Jenny's old band, and this album is going to be fantastic!);
3. Cat Power, various albums; and
4. Annie Lennox's new one.
And tunes: I haven't gone out to any sessions yet, as I hear the weekly one is crap, but I am now known to the crowd that organizes sessions somewhat surreptitiously, so I think I'll be fine....
Lots more to talk about, of course...including pithvier cake, recent episodes of the L Word, my run-in with the college cat, etc.--but I'll save that for another time.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Cad é Tharla? (What Happened?)
Yes, folks, I'm back from Ireland!
Describing the whole thing of a piece is too much for me in my still-jetlagged state, and besides, who wants a laundry list of What I Did During My Summer in Ireland (for vacation it was not)? Ok, I know some of you want the big story all at once, but what you'll get (eventually) are a series of vignettes.
For now, though, two short lists.
Momentous Things That Happened
...and a second list--
Things that Momentously Did Not Happen
As I recover from jetlag and get back into the swing of posting, I'll describe some of this stuff in more detail and post some pictures. For now, here are two teasers: one photo, and the unspeakably stunning and bizarro video for "Automatic Lover." I thank Paolo (Sophie's boyfriend and now a friend of mine) for tipping me off about this song. Too cool, man, too cool.
Describing the whole thing of a piece is too much for me in my still-jetlagged state, and besides, who wants a laundry list of What I Did During My Summer in Ireland (for vacation it was not)? Ok, I know some of you want the big story all at once, but what you'll get (eventually) are a series of vignettes.
For now, though, two short lists.
Momentous Things That Happened
1. I found out that I got the Mainzer Fellowship to Cambridge next winter! I'll be there for two months as part of their gender studies program, and I'm ecstatic about it! While there, I will be doing research about Julia Clifford and Lucy Farr.
2. Jenny & I spent five days in Paris, catching up with our friend Chris, formerly a student in composition in NYU. He moved to France a few years ago, and we got to hang out with him and his fabulous Parisian and ex-pat friends. We felt tres chic, indeed!
3. My Irish language skills are much improved, thanks to the FLAS grant that allowed me to spend about a month and a half studying at Oideas Gael. Of course I have lots to say about that, but for now, I'll leave it by saying that despite its significant flaws (namely its very pathetic food shop) I'm already making plans to get back to Glencolumcille as soon as possible.
4. I perfected my apple crumble technique, sans measurements of any kind other than by eyeball and handful. Once it cools off enough to want the oven on--which, providentially, will coincide with apple season--I'll have to see whether my newfound skills came with me across the Atlantic, or whether they were a magical gift of the cottage in Glen where I stayed for the month of June.
5. I caught my first 4 fish! Mackerel, off the coast near Teelin. I fried them up and they were beautiful.
6. I heard about the song "Automatic Lover" for the first time ever. Stay tuned....
...and a second list--
Things that Momentously Did Not Happen
1. Fieldwork interviews. This omission felt right and good, though--partly because I was busy learning Irish, thinking about my project--and what's more, have not filed any research plans with the Human Subjects Board at NYU (better safe than sorry).
2. A great deal of fiddling. The first three weeks I was in Glen, the good music was elsewhere, and I didn't have a car. I did make up for lost time later in the summer there (more on this later), but also momentously, I spent a total of about 12 hours at the Willie Clancy week. That, for you non-traddies out there, is a trifling amount, because in past years I've spent nearly all my waking hours for a week there. And during that 12 hours or so, I played maybe an hour's worth. Again, more on the whys and wherefores of this later.
3. Drinking. I probably had a total of 5 pints the whole summer, taken glass by glass. My coffee intake was slightly higher, but still fairly insignificant. My consumption of black tea and Donegal bogwater, however, was unprecedented.
As I recover from jetlag and get back into the swing of posting, I'll describe some of this stuff in more detail and post some pictures. For now, here are two teasers: one photo, and the unspeakably stunning and bizarro video for "Automatic Lover." I thank Paolo (Sophie's boyfriend and now a friend of mine) for tipping me off about this song. Too cool, man, too cool.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Very Hard to Believe
Ok, if my complete and incorrigible nerdiness weren't already apparent--I can't believe that nowhere on the Internet exists that famous photo of Julia Clifford with her Stroh fiddle! Just when I need it for my paper--but oh, well. However inconvenient it is (if I want that picture in my paper due tomorrow I'll have to rush in to school and scan it in), it's also quite gratifying that no one has done any sort of work yet that could have lead to the photo being put online.
In other news, I think it's possible that Emma Donoghue might be my not-so-evil twin. Well, she and I have some of the same favorite books and movies, and tend to wear the same colors, anyway. Here's where I learned all that.
In other news, I think it's possible that Emma Donoghue might be my not-so-evil twin. Well, she and I have some of the same favorite books and movies, and tend to wear the same colors, anyway. Here's where I learned all that.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Musical fun of various sorts
I keep on accumulating a backlog of things I forget to write about in the excitement of posting silly quizzes and YouTube clips of shows lost in the static of time--but tonight, briefly, I'll talk about some of what I've managed to do when I haven't been stuck behind the computer screen or a book.
Friday night we went to Maeve Donnelly's concert at Ireland House, where Tony MacManus joined her on guitar. Lovely, lovely stuff. I think she was a bit nervous, and the house was full to bursting that by the time J & I arrived 15 minutes before the show (and after a sublime dinner at Veselka) the only seats available were in the back of the room, where I used to sit in Irish class (yes, I'm a back-of-the-room sitter when there's a choice).
Anyway, Maeve and Tony played some gorgeous music together, although they didn't play "Sailing Into Walpole's Marsh"--but Maeve did start with "The Humours of Drinagh," and was doing a zillion things with it she didn't do on the old LP. Way cool. As Don Meade pointed out in his emcee spiel, the album--one of my all-time favorites--is now available on iTunes, as is the whole old Green Linnet catalog. Now, if only Comhaltas would get all those old records and tapes up there...you'd think that with their smoochy relationship to IMRO that mightn't be impossible, but I'm not holding my breath.
The social craic was great at the concert, too, as it was at the Ceol session on Sunday, when I joined Don and Jason Cade for some lovely, kitchen-style tunes. The pub wasn't crowded--I think their Easter dinner rush had happened much earlier--but the people who were there were very appreciative. Anyway, we played a bunch of old favorites, including a little hero-worship set of Connie O'Connell's pet tunes. I hope we'll have another go at the tunes next week, which means I have to get my ass to work on my taxes--as if I didn't already have plenty to do!
And finally, today I worked out--at long last--how to make my Mac play streaming audio from Clare FM and WNRN (Charlottesville). Windows Media Player has some sort of Mac-ly snit about reading .asx files, but I found a patch for Quicktime that gave it the ability to read them. I managed to catch the last hour of Claire Keville's show on Clare FM, where she was playing a bunch of tracks from that great cd set "The Hills of Clare"--I tuned in as she put on Ollie Conway singing "The Banks of Sullane." So now ye know how I'll be distracting myself on Tuesday afternoons between 2 & 4pm...Sophie, will we play our old name-the-player game over text?
I didn't listen to much of WNRN, but it'll be nice to catch Anne Williams' show in the mornings sometimes, and the goth show that comes on on Sunday night, to which I used to listen on my drive home from the session in C-ville.
The Article I'm Not Reading: "Linguistic Syncretism and Lnguage Ideoloies: Transforming Sociolinguistic Hierarchy on Rapa Nui (Easter Island)" by Miki Makihara.
Friday night we went to Maeve Donnelly's concert at Ireland House, where Tony MacManus joined her on guitar. Lovely, lovely stuff. I think she was a bit nervous, and the house was full to bursting that by the time J & I arrived 15 minutes before the show (and after a sublime dinner at Veselka) the only seats available were in the back of the room, where I used to sit in Irish class (yes, I'm a back-of-the-room sitter when there's a choice).
Anyway, Maeve and Tony played some gorgeous music together, although they didn't play "Sailing Into Walpole's Marsh"--but Maeve did start with "The Humours of Drinagh," and was doing a zillion things with it she didn't do on the old LP. Way cool. As Don Meade pointed out in his emcee spiel, the album--one of my all-time favorites--is now available on iTunes, as is the whole old Green Linnet catalog. Now, if only Comhaltas would get all those old records and tapes up there...you'd think that with their smoochy relationship to IMRO that mightn't be impossible, but I'm not holding my breath.
The social craic was great at the concert, too, as it was at the Ceol session on Sunday, when I joined Don and Jason Cade for some lovely, kitchen-style tunes. The pub wasn't crowded--I think their Easter dinner rush had happened much earlier--but the people who were there were very appreciative. Anyway, we played a bunch of old favorites, including a little hero-worship set of Connie O'Connell's pet tunes. I hope we'll have another go at the tunes next week, which means I have to get my ass to work on my taxes--as if I didn't already have plenty to do!
And finally, today I worked out--at long last--how to make my Mac play streaming audio from Clare FM and WNRN (Charlottesville). Windows Media Player has some sort of Mac-ly snit about reading .asx files, but I found a patch for Quicktime that gave it the ability to read them. I managed to catch the last hour of Claire Keville's show on Clare FM, where she was playing a bunch of tracks from that great cd set "The Hills of Clare"--I tuned in as she put on Ollie Conway singing "The Banks of Sullane." So now ye know how I'll be distracting myself on Tuesday afternoons between 2 & 4pm...Sophie, will we play our old name-the-player game over text?
I didn't listen to much of WNRN, but it'll be nice to catch Anne Williams' show in the mornings sometimes, and the goth show that comes on on Sunday night, to which I used to listen on my drive home from the session in C-ville.
The Article I'm Not Reading: "Linguistic Syncretism and Lnguage Ideoloies: Transforming Sociolinguistic Hierarchy on Rapa Nui (Easter Island)" by Miki Makihara.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Maeve's In Town!
A while back, I raved about Galway fiddler Maeve Donnelly. I'm now delighted to report that she's going to be in town this Friday, playing a concert at Glucksman Ireland House. Here's what their promotional materials have to say:
It's sure to be a brilliant concert, but I don't need to tell most of ye that!
The concert is this Friday, April 6, at 9pm.
Maeve Donnelly is among the most accomplished and entertaining fiddlers in Irish music today. Though deeply rooted in the musical tradition of her native east County Galway, Maeve is a thoroughly modern player who electrifies audiences with a fiery and uninhibited performance style. Her partner for this concert is no mere accompanist. Scotsman Tony McManus has been widely hailed as one of the world’s most virtuosic and innovative acoustic guitarists. He is a renowned soloist in his own right and has made several acclaimed recordings of Irish, Scots, Cape Breton and Quebecois tunes.
It's sure to be a brilliant concert, but I don't need to tell most of ye that!
The concert is this Friday, April 6, at 9pm.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
The Return of the [non]Native
We're back home now, after an intermittently relaxing spring break down South--lots of fun, lots of drama, and lots of work now hanging over my head. But no regrets, except that we don't have another week of vacation!
Highlights:
Friday night the Blue Ridge Irish Music School had its annual Paddy's Day fundraiser at Gravity Lounge. It was a blast as always. The kids did a great job performing, and the evening was made more special because it was singer Philippa Balestrieri's last public performance with the trad ensemble before she goes to Oxford for college. All the kids have come a long way since I left Charlottesville in 2004, and several of them (Marie Borgman, Fiona Balestrieri, and Carleigh Nesbitt) have formed their own band, Pixy-Led, and I think they'll be playing at Gravity Lounge sometime soon, with Marina Madden as the warm-up act (she's doing a lot of songwriting these days, under the tutelage of Devon Sproule). I think both Pixy-Led and Marina have MySpace music pages, but I haven't had time to find them. The dancing looked great, thanks to the efforts of Lori and Meg Madden (and, of course, the kids, who are awesome), and trad ensemble leader Cleek Schrey has shepherded the group through a lot of new material.
For the grand finale, we had a sort of Roaring Mary reunion. Rob Greenway (flute), Sara Read (fiddle), Cleek Schrey (piano), and I played a set of reels for Meg Madden's Cape Breton stepdance class's debut performance.
We all had a great time hanging out, sessioning, and talking shite after the concert, as well as collecting items won in the silent auction. The auction was a hoot--lots of good stuff, and it made a nice chunk of change for BRIMS. I had been pretty intent on winning a set of 3 azaleas for our backyard, and got them, despite some competition from Alex Caton and Patrick Olwell, who won the other set of azaleas. I gave Alex one as a consolation. I also attempted to nudge some bids up on other items--a ploy that backfired in one instance! I'm now the proud (??) owner of a chocolate-looking "man on a stick" green man garden thingy. It'll be nice in the backyard, but I didn't intend to come home with it. Oh, well--all for a good cause.
(I'm realizing this all sounds very formal for a group of people I and many of you know quite well...but since this is public, I'm feeling a little reticent about mentioning all the kids by name, especially the younger ones, and I know of several readers who aren't part of the C-ville/trad crowds.)
Anyway, lots of other highlights to talk about, but the schoolwork is calling!
The Book I'm Not Reading: Punk Productions: Unfinished Business by Stacy Thompson. So far, it seems abysmally written. Oh, well. Time to go read that sucker.
Only two more months (more or less) until the end of coursework!
Highlights:
Friday night the Blue Ridge Irish Music School had its annual Paddy's Day fundraiser at Gravity Lounge. It was a blast as always. The kids did a great job performing, and the evening was made more special because it was singer Philippa Balestrieri's last public performance with the trad ensemble before she goes to Oxford for college. All the kids have come a long way since I left Charlottesville in 2004, and several of them (Marie Borgman, Fiona Balestrieri, and Carleigh Nesbitt) have formed their own band, Pixy-Led, and I think they'll be playing at Gravity Lounge sometime soon, with Marina Madden as the warm-up act (she's doing a lot of songwriting these days, under the tutelage of Devon Sproule). I think both Pixy-Led and Marina have MySpace music pages, but I haven't had time to find them. The dancing looked great, thanks to the efforts of Lori and Meg Madden (and, of course, the kids, who are awesome), and trad ensemble leader Cleek Schrey has shepherded the group through a lot of new material.
For the grand finale, we had a sort of Roaring Mary reunion. Rob Greenway (flute), Sara Read (fiddle), Cleek Schrey (piano), and I played a set of reels for Meg Madden's Cape Breton stepdance class's debut performance.
We all had a great time hanging out, sessioning, and talking shite after the concert, as well as collecting items won in the silent auction. The auction was a hoot--lots of good stuff, and it made a nice chunk of change for BRIMS. I had been pretty intent on winning a set of 3 azaleas for our backyard, and got them, despite some competition from Alex Caton and Patrick Olwell, who won the other set of azaleas. I gave Alex one as a consolation. I also attempted to nudge some bids up on other items--a ploy that backfired in one instance! I'm now the proud (??) owner of a chocolate-looking "man on a stick" green man garden thingy. It'll be nice in the backyard, but I didn't intend to come home with it. Oh, well--all for a good cause.
(I'm realizing this all sounds very formal for a group of people I and many of you know quite well...but since this is public, I'm feeling a little reticent about mentioning all the kids by name, especially the younger ones, and I know of several readers who aren't part of the C-ville/trad crowds.)
Anyway, lots of other highlights to talk about, but the schoolwork is calling!
The Book I'm Not Reading: Punk Productions: Unfinished Business by Stacy Thompson. So far, it seems abysmally written. Oh, well. Time to go read that sucker.
Only two more months (more or less) until the end of coursework!
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Forward in All Directions
As of 12:58am, the grant is out of my hands and in the hands of the granting agency. Fingers crossed!
In the meantime, someone on the SEM listserv sent this article about institutional research boards--the bane of our existence in the humanities. Lots of paperwork to prove that we're not going to kill anyone by interviewing them. When I put in an application a few years ago to research Julia Clifford, I had to convince the board that it was imperative that I name my interviewees in the work. Imagine, writing about her and not being able to say that I talked to her son, her friends, her nieces. Luckily, they must have figured I was harmless enough--but the fact of the matter is that very few people in my department even know the IRB exists.
Hmmm, where did that rant come from? Guess I'd better go to bed so I can wake up tomorrow to read more linguistic anthropology!
In the meantime, someone on the SEM listserv sent this article about institutional research boards--the bane of our existence in the humanities. Lots of paperwork to prove that we're not going to kill anyone by interviewing them. When I put in an application a few years ago to research Julia Clifford, I had to convince the board that it was imperative that I name my interviewees in the work. Imagine, writing about her and not being able to say that I talked to her son, her friends, her nieces. Luckily, they must have figured I was harmless enough--but the fact of the matter is that very few people in my department even know the IRB exists.
Hmmm, where did that rant come from? Guess I'd better go to bed so I can wake up tomorrow to read more linguistic anthropology!
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Hearing the End in Sight
It's funny what sounds accomplish what work. I just put Maire O'Keeffe's album Coisir on while I race to finish the more mundane parts of this grant application, and suddenly I can smell summer in the Blue Ridge, feel the wind of Spanish Point on my face, and just generally think of having fun. I love this album--it's rough in nearly every way: the recording quality isn't spectacular (but it beats the hell out of Mary Custy's cd with the picture of herself and Eoin O'Neill in Doolin on the front--can't remember the title right now--but another album I love), and sometimes Maire's intonation is a little dodgy. But the spirit is all there, and the drive, and I love the Cape Breton-y piano accompaniment, and--well, it's great altogether. (And it's a good thing I think so, as Donal O'Connor tells me my playing reminds him of Maire's, as once also did Paul MacDonald in Cape Breton, who played on the album!)
Now if only Maire's little sister Aoife (who's my age) would do an album of her own. Aoife's one of the loveliest fiddle players I've ever met, and whose praises should be sung from the rooftops of the trad world (more than they are already).
And now I'd better get back to work.
(Yes, someday I'll learn how to do fadas in HTML.)
Now if only Maire's little sister Aoife (who's my age) would do an album of her own. Aoife's one of the loveliest fiddle players I've ever met, and whose praises should be sung from the rooftops of the trad world (more than they are already).
And now I'd better get back to work.
(Yes, someday I'll learn how to do fadas in HTML.)
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Article about Padraig O'Keeffe in the Irish Times
This from today's newspaper, and thanks to Paul Keating for sending it along to me. It's great to see both Padraig and Matt in the news. Now to get Julia Clifford in there as well....
Fiddling with the rulebook
Thu, Feb 22, 2007 – IRISH TIMES
Sliabh Luachra musician Pádraig O'Keeffe's unique notation system revolutionised fiddle playing, writes Siobhán Long.
If even a fraction of the tales told about iconic Sliabh Luachra fiddler Pádraig O'Keeffe (born 1887, died 1963) are true, his induction into Irish music's hall of fame is long overdue. O'Keeffe, who died on this day 44 years ago, eked out a living as a player and fiddle teacher across the length and breadth of Scartaglen, Gleanntán, Castleisland and quite possibly, as far afield as Ballydesmond. O'Keeffe's reputation as a master fiddler grew out of his plaintive Sliabh Luachra playing style.
Although he worked as a teacher, the constraints of full-time, paid employment held little appeal for him, so he spent most of his life as a travelling fiddle teacher and player, welcomed with varying degrees of enthusiasm across the Rushy Glen. Still, his highly expressive style of playing continues to spellbind listeners four decades after his death, and many musicians believe that without Pádraig O'Keeffe, the music of Sliabh Luachra may not have travelled past the Cork and Kerry county boundaries.
Matt Cranitch, fiddler, teacher, scholar and author of one of the touchstone texts on fiddle playing, The Irish Fiddle Book, has spent many years studying the playing style and idiosyncratic teaching methods of O'Keeffe. He recently received a doctorate from the Irish World Music Centre at the University of Limerick , for his thesis, Pádraig O'Keeffe and The Sliabh Luachra Fiddle Tradition.
His doctoral work grew out of a seminal moment, which occurred on February 5th, 1978, when Mick Duggan, one of Pádraig O'Keeffe's former pupils, gave Cranitch his O'Keeffe manuscripts.
"I was interested in exploring what I saw as two main pillars of Pádraig O'Keeffe's music," Matt offers by way of introduction.
"One was Pádraig's musical notation system, how he used it to teach music, and the second was to examine the question of what is it that fiddle players do to make the music sound the way it does."
In O'Keeffe's heyday, house dances were still in vogue and there was many a Sliabh Luachra dancer who could dance a slide on a sixpence. Pádraig played extensively, to dancers and listeners, and he maintained a stable of music students worthy of the busiest conservatories.
It was said that at one time, he had 200 students in tow, and that because he used his own particularly idiosyncratic style of music notation, he was a law unto himself: teaching his own musical dialect to his students who were thus bound to his methods, unless or until they ventured forth into the world of standard notation.
Cranitch undertook a forensic study of O'Keeffe's bowing patterns because he'd long been of the view that "the key to understanding and playing this music is to look at the rhythm and how that's articulated by the phrasing and the bowing".
Having studied O'Keeffe's style, Cranitch concluded that while his tunes adhered to the formats of reels and jigs, they often engaged in complex regroupings of, for example in the case of a reel, eight notes in a bar so that these notes could occur as '3, 3, 1, 1' or '3, 5' or '5, 3'. Like a mathematician at play with figures, Pádraig O'Keeffe relished the intricate patterns that could be conjured out of each tune type.
"There are patterns of bowing, just as there are patterns of speech," Matt argues. "People talk a lot about melodic patterns or motifs, but I believe that there are bowing motifs that the average listener doesn't necessarily hear, but take them out (of the music) and the thing doesn't happen. That aspect of the music is almost more crucial to creating the swing, the mood or the vibe than the notes themselves."
Pádraig O'Keeffe was a contemporary of famed Sligo fiddlers Michael Coleman and James Morrison, but Coleman and Morrison emigrated to the US , where their playing style was seen by some as flamboyant and as reflective of the diverse society in which they lived. O'Keeffe paid close attention to the recordings that Coleman made, which Cranitch explored in some detail.
"O'Keeffe transcribed Coleman's tunes, note for note, off the 78 RPMs," he says. "The way Coleman bowed them was the way he played them himself, so in effect, Pádraig was translating the tune into his own vernacular. I think that's a powerful thing that musicians do. They can take something from one dialect to another. They're not copying it, but instead taking some of the traits of the music and superimposing their own voice on it."
Cranitch doesn't subscribe to any romantic notions that the distinct regional differences to be found in traditional music are influenced by geography. The defining influence on the music will be the purpose for which it is played. It is this, Cranitch suggests, that bestows an intrinsic bounce to Sliabh Luachra's polkas, slides and reels.
"The vibrancy and the rhythmic vitality of the music is there because it's always been linked to dancing," he declares with a characteristic flourish.
And while many Sliabh Luachra aficionados would dispute the fact that Pádraig O'Keeffe did, in fact, play in a style reflective of the region in which he lived (arguing that his style was wholly individual), Cranitch is quick to finger O'Keeffe's lasting legacy to the music and to the region.
"He taught a hierarchy of players. At one end of the spectrum, he taught Denis Murphy, Julia Clifford and Paddy Cronin, who went on to inhabit the upper echelons of fiddle players. He also taught a lot of local people who played for their own communities and that was another very important aspect of what he did."
Pádraig O'Keeffe left behind an idiosyncratic system of musical notation which, Cranitch muses, had to be influenced by the teaching methods he learned while in teacher training college.
"In some of his manuscripts, he wrote out a system of rules regarding bowing," explains Cranitch, "and I haven't seen that anywhere else. What they show is his understanding beyond the elemental teaching of a tune. He wanted to cultivate the student's fiddle playing as well as teaching the tune. For example, he had a particular method of teaching a difficult ornamentation which he called a 'trill' - which we now call a roll. His system was governed, I believe, by the rhythmic aspects of the tune. So if the 'trill' came off the beat, they were notated fully, if they were on the beat, he used a capital 'T'."
It's easy to see where Cranitch's fascination with Pádraig O'Keeffe's music is rooted. As a teacher and fiddle tutor author, he's enjoyed a longstanding attraction to the art and act of fiddle teaching.
It was only when he embarked on his doctoral study of O'Keeffe's music and methods though, that he saw how similar their approaches to fiddle teaching were. Small wonder then that O'Keeffe's musical hieroglyphics held such fascination for him.
"Pádraig had two main systems: one for the fiddle and one for the accordion," Matt explains. "He used the five lines of the stave, with the four spaces in between representing the four strings of the fiddle. He used numerals to represent the strings, and a slur sign above the numeral indicated the playing of two or three notes at the one time, whereas a slur underneath indicated a halving of the notes."
In practical terms, the devil wasn't so much in the detail as in the listening.
"For people growing up in the area at that time, this was the pop music of the day," Cranitch continues, warming to the social aspects of his research.
"They heard this music so often that they didn't need everything notated anyway. They knew instinctively how to interpret the music and how it should sound. His notation simply acted as an aide memoire rather than anything else."
People with an appetite for Sliabh Luachra music speak in reverential tones of its polkas and slides. Ironically, reels surpass polkas in the recorded music of the region, but when it comes to the dance itself, polkas are the heartbeat of the music. Even the most rhythmically challenged can hardly resist the temptation to hit the boards when musicians kickstart a polka. It's as if the body's hardwired for the tune. Slow airs too, featured heavily in O'Keeffe's repertoire and that influence is still tangible, as anyone who's heard Jackie Daly's sublime reading of Turas Go Tír Na nÓg will attest.
But for those sturdy of spirit and fleet of foot, the Sliabh Luachra mecca is Dan Connell's pub in Knocknagree, where many moons ago, this writer struggled in an effort to keep pace with the proprietor, who could dance a polka on a pinhead, fuelled by the incandescent box playing of the late Johnny O'Leary.
O'Keeffe died in Tralee hospital in 1963, having been castigated by many for his drinking and his nomadic lifestyle. In many ways, Pádraig O'Keeffe was a prophet not recognised in his own land, but some, like Aogán Ó Raghallaigh or Eoghan Rua Ó Súilleabháin saw him as a true artist following an inner calling.
"Had Pádraig stuck with the chalk and blackboard, chances are we wouldn't be talking about him today the way we are," Matt says. "He had guru status among musicians locally, and many talked lovingly of him. He was seen as a genius, who attained a level of knowledge and understanding of the music which his students could only ever aspire to."
Pádraig O'Keeffe, Denis Murphy and Julia Clifford: Music From Sliabh Luachra Vol 1: Kerry Fiddles (Topic Records, 1977); Pádraig O'Keeffe: The Sliabh Luachra Fiddle Master (RTÉ, 1993)
Fiddling with the rulebook
Thu, Feb 22, 2007 – IRISH TIMES
Sliabh Luachra musician Pádraig O'Keeffe's unique notation system revolutionised fiddle playing, writes Siobhán Long.
If even a fraction of the tales told about iconic Sliabh Luachra fiddler Pádraig O'Keeffe (born 1887, died 1963) are true, his induction into Irish music's hall of fame is long overdue. O'Keeffe, who died on this day 44 years ago, eked out a living as a player and fiddle teacher across the length and breadth of Scartaglen, Gleanntán, Castleisland and quite possibly, as far afield as Ballydesmond. O'Keeffe's reputation as a master fiddler grew out of his plaintive Sliabh Luachra playing style.
Although he worked as a teacher, the constraints of full-time, paid employment held little appeal for him, so he spent most of his life as a travelling fiddle teacher and player, welcomed with varying degrees of enthusiasm across the Rushy Glen. Still, his highly expressive style of playing continues to spellbind listeners four decades after his death, and many musicians believe that without Pádraig O'Keeffe, the music of Sliabh Luachra may not have travelled past the Cork and Kerry county boundaries.
Matt Cranitch, fiddler, teacher, scholar and author of one of the touchstone texts on fiddle playing, The Irish Fiddle Book, has spent many years studying the playing style and idiosyncratic teaching methods of O'Keeffe. He recently received a doctorate from the Irish World Music Centre at the University of Limerick , for his thesis, Pádraig O'Keeffe and The Sliabh Luachra Fiddle Tradition.
His doctoral work grew out of a seminal moment, which occurred on February 5th, 1978, when Mick Duggan, one of Pádraig O'Keeffe's former pupils, gave Cranitch his O'Keeffe manuscripts.
"I was interested in exploring what I saw as two main pillars of Pádraig O'Keeffe's music," Matt offers by way of introduction.
"One was Pádraig's musical notation system, how he used it to teach music, and the second was to examine the question of what is it that fiddle players do to make the music sound the way it does."
In O'Keeffe's heyday, house dances were still in vogue and there was many a Sliabh Luachra dancer who could dance a slide on a sixpence. Pádraig played extensively, to dancers and listeners, and he maintained a stable of music students worthy of the busiest conservatories.
It was said that at one time, he had 200 students in tow, and that because he used his own particularly idiosyncratic style of music notation, he was a law unto himself: teaching his own musical dialect to his students who were thus bound to his methods, unless or until they ventured forth into the world of standard notation.
Cranitch undertook a forensic study of O'Keeffe's bowing patterns because he'd long been of the view that "the key to understanding and playing this music is to look at the rhythm and how that's articulated by the phrasing and the bowing".
Having studied O'Keeffe's style, Cranitch concluded that while his tunes adhered to the formats of reels and jigs, they often engaged in complex regroupings of, for example in the case of a reel, eight notes in a bar so that these notes could occur as '3, 3, 1, 1' or '3, 5' or '5, 3'. Like a mathematician at play with figures, Pádraig O'Keeffe relished the intricate patterns that could be conjured out of each tune type.
"There are patterns of bowing, just as there are patterns of speech," Matt argues. "People talk a lot about melodic patterns or motifs, but I believe that there are bowing motifs that the average listener doesn't necessarily hear, but take them out (of the music) and the thing doesn't happen. That aspect of the music is almost more crucial to creating the swing, the mood or the vibe than the notes themselves."
Pádraig O'Keeffe was a contemporary of famed Sligo fiddlers Michael Coleman and James Morrison, but Coleman and Morrison emigrated to the US , where their playing style was seen by some as flamboyant and as reflective of the diverse society in which they lived. O'Keeffe paid close attention to the recordings that Coleman made, which Cranitch explored in some detail.
"O'Keeffe transcribed Coleman's tunes, note for note, off the 78 RPMs," he says. "The way Coleman bowed them was the way he played them himself, so in effect, Pádraig was translating the tune into his own vernacular. I think that's a powerful thing that musicians do. They can take something from one dialect to another. They're not copying it, but instead taking some of the traits of the music and superimposing their own voice on it."
Cranitch doesn't subscribe to any romantic notions that the distinct regional differences to be found in traditional music are influenced by geography. The defining influence on the music will be the purpose for which it is played. It is this, Cranitch suggests, that bestows an intrinsic bounce to Sliabh Luachra's polkas, slides and reels.
"The vibrancy and the rhythmic vitality of the music is there because it's always been linked to dancing," he declares with a characteristic flourish.
And while many Sliabh Luachra aficionados would dispute the fact that Pádraig O'Keeffe did, in fact, play in a style reflective of the region in which he lived (arguing that his style was wholly individual), Cranitch is quick to finger O'Keeffe's lasting legacy to the music and to the region.
"He taught a hierarchy of players. At one end of the spectrum, he taught Denis Murphy, Julia Clifford and Paddy Cronin, who went on to inhabit the upper echelons of fiddle players. He also taught a lot of local people who played for their own communities and that was another very important aspect of what he did."
Pádraig O'Keeffe left behind an idiosyncratic system of musical notation which, Cranitch muses, had to be influenced by the teaching methods he learned while in teacher training college.
"In some of his manuscripts, he wrote out a system of rules regarding bowing," explains Cranitch, "and I haven't seen that anywhere else. What they show is his understanding beyond the elemental teaching of a tune. He wanted to cultivate the student's fiddle playing as well as teaching the tune. For example, he had a particular method of teaching a difficult ornamentation which he called a 'trill' - which we now call a roll. His system was governed, I believe, by the rhythmic aspects of the tune. So if the 'trill' came off the beat, they were notated fully, if they were on the beat, he used a capital 'T'."
It's easy to see where Cranitch's fascination with Pádraig O'Keeffe's music is rooted. As a teacher and fiddle tutor author, he's enjoyed a longstanding attraction to the art and act of fiddle teaching.
It was only when he embarked on his doctoral study of O'Keeffe's music and methods though, that he saw how similar their approaches to fiddle teaching were. Small wonder then that O'Keeffe's musical hieroglyphics held such fascination for him.
"Pádraig had two main systems: one for the fiddle and one for the accordion," Matt explains. "He used the five lines of the stave, with the four spaces in between representing the four strings of the fiddle. He used numerals to represent the strings, and a slur sign above the numeral indicated the playing of two or three notes at the one time, whereas a slur underneath indicated a halving of the notes."
In practical terms, the devil wasn't so much in the detail as in the listening.
"For people growing up in the area at that time, this was the pop music of the day," Cranitch continues, warming to the social aspects of his research.
"They heard this music so often that they didn't need everything notated anyway. They knew instinctively how to interpret the music and how it should sound. His notation simply acted as an aide memoire rather than anything else."
People with an appetite for Sliabh Luachra music speak in reverential tones of its polkas and slides. Ironically, reels surpass polkas in the recorded music of the region, but when it comes to the dance itself, polkas are the heartbeat of the music. Even the most rhythmically challenged can hardly resist the temptation to hit the boards when musicians kickstart a polka. It's as if the body's hardwired for the tune. Slow airs too, featured heavily in O'Keeffe's repertoire and that influence is still tangible, as anyone who's heard Jackie Daly's sublime reading of Turas Go Tír Na nÓg will attest.
But for those sturdy of spirit and fleet of foot, the Sliabh Luachra mecca is Dan Connell's pub in Knocknagree, where many moons ago, this writer struggled in an effort to keep pace with the proprietor, who could dance a polka on a pinhead, fuelled by the incandescent box playing of the late Johnny O'Leary.
O'Keeffe died in Tralee hospital in 1963, having been castigated by many for his drinking and his nomadic lifestyle. In many ways, Pádraig O'Keeffe was a prophet not recognised in his own land, but some, like Aogán Ó Raghallaigh or Eoghan Rua Ó Súilleabháin saw him as a true artist following an inner calling.
"Had Pádraig stuck with the chalk and blackboard, chances are we wouldn't be talking about him today the way we are," Matt says. "He had guru status among musicians locally, and many talked lovingly of him. He was seen as a genius, who attained a level of knowledge and understanding of the music which his students could only ever aspire to."
Pádraig O'Keeffe, Denis Murphy and Julia Clifford: Music From Sliabh Luachra Vol 1: Kerry Fiddles (Topic Records, 1977); Pádraig O'Keeffe: The Sliabh Luachra Fiddle Master (RTÉ, 1993)
Monday, February 19, 2007
Irish Music in Charlottesville
This morning, I discovered that "214," the building formerly known as the Prism Coffeehouse, now has its own events website. I'm really glad to see this project grow--it's always been a great space, and I'm really glad BRIMS (the Blue Ridge Irish Music School) was a primary instigator.
A lot of you have known about BRIMS since its inception in 1999, when Sara Read and I started working toward a more cohesive Irish music scene for our students. There's a lot of history there, and I miss BRIMS and the C-ville crowd ferociously, but I'll leave it at that for now, and attempt to corral my thoughts into some of the work I should be doing.
A lot of you have known about BRIMS since its inception in 1999, when Sara Read and I started working toward a more cohesive Irish music scene for our students. There's a lot of history there, and I miss BRIMS and the C-ville crowd ferociously, but I'll leave it at that for now, and attempt to corral my thoughts into some of the work I should be doing.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Just like chicken pot pie--without the pie.
Yesterday I decided that the chicken thighs in the freezer were lonely. Not coincidentally, Jenny's in Michigan (she's vegetarian) and I had Lauren coming over for dinner before we went to the big CCE Hall of Fame ceili out in Long Island.
So, what to do with those suckers? I thought of coq au vin first, but we didn't have any wine in the house, and my primary constraint was that I didn't want to have to go shopping, so that was out. The fridge was (and still is) fairly empty at this stage--last week I forgot to put a bunch of stuff on Fresh Direct order--but I did have a few staples. (Mmmmm, stapled chicken!) I had the makings of roasted vegetables (sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, a parsnip, and garlic, with rosemary on top--just your average tray of roasted veg), so I fecked that into the oven first.
While that was cooking, I sauteed a leek, carrots, and celery with garlic, oregano, and thyme, and browned the chicken in a combination of butter and olive oil. Took the chicken out, made a roux, and then tossed in the sauteed vegetables and the chicken, plus some vegetable stock (from a cube, alas--no time yet to make new stock). At some point I discovered some mushrooms and put them in as well. I let that cook down into a gravy, and there was dinner! Lauren and I decided that it was just like the innards of chicken pot pie, but without the crust--and that the crust would have made it even better. Thinking about it today, the other thing it was missing was peas (were peas?).
In the meantime, Lauren made a nice salad with Boston lettuce and endive, with a balsamic/oil/grapefruit dressing. Fennel was supposed to go in too, but the shop didn't have it.
Now I wish I had leftovers of the chicken...which means--you guessed it--I might be making this again tomorrow!
The Hall of Fame ceremony was nice. Don Meade spoke about Dermot and Mary Coogan talked about her father Jim. I was particularly amazed by how well-spoken Mary was, and her father only these two months dead. They showed session footage of both Dermot and Jim--we missed the clips of Dermot, having arrived late--but it was a nice remembrance of both of them. Though, as several folks pointed out, it's a shame they weren't inducted into the Hall of Fame while they were still alive. Of course, Joanie Madden accepted her award herself, and I believe she's the first woman to receive the award while she's still alive. Her speech was short and sweet--a good thing, as everyone was getting antsy by then--especially the dancers.
A sizeable crowd, a newly-renovated hall (the Irish-American hall in Mineola), and some fun chats with people, including Rose Flanagan, Jimmy Kelly, Paul Keating, and plenty more I'm just not thinking of at the moment. At some point, we discovered Mike Rafferty, Willie Kelly, Felix Dolan, Donna Long, and Laura Byrne upstairs having a quiet tune. Tim Collins was around as well, but wasn't in the session at that moment. I didn't take the fiddle (yes, I know--it's probably a first, me not taking the fiddle, but I knew I wasn't in for the long haul), so no tunes for me, but I was very glad for some lovely subtle mellow music to balance the high-energy ceili band stuff downstairs.
The Book I'm Not Reading (but will very soon): Don Kulick's Language Shift and Cultural Reproduction: Socialization, Self, and Syncretism in a Papua New Guinean Village.
So, what to do with those suckers? I thought of coq au vin first, but we didn't have any wine in the house, and my primary constraint was that I didn't want to have to go shopping, so that was out. The fridge was (and still is) fairly empty at this stage--last week I forgot to put a bunch of stuff on Fresh Direct order--but I did have a few staples. (Mmmmm, stapled chicken!) I had the makings of roasted vegetables (sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, a parsnip, and garlic, with rosemary on top--just your average tray of roasted veg), so I fecked that into the oven first.
While that was cooking, I sauteed a leek, carrots, and celery with garlic, oregano, and thyme, and browned the chicken in a combination of butter and olive oil. Took the chicken out, made a roux, and then tossed in the sauteed vegetables and the chicken, plus some vegetable stock (from a cube, alas--no time yet to make new stock). At some point I discovered some mushrooms and put them in as well. I let that cook down into a gravy, and there was dinner! Lauren and I decided that it was just like the innards of chicken pot pie, but without the crust--and that the crust would have made it even better. Thinking about it today, the other thing it was missing was peas (were peas?).
In the meantime, Lauren made a nice salad with Boston lettuce and endive, with a balsamic/oil/grapefruit dressing. Fennel was supposed to go in too, but the shop didn't have it.
Now I wish I had leftovers of the chicken...which means--you guessed it--I might be making this again tomorrow!
The Hall of Fame ceremony was nice. Don Meade spoke about Dermot and Mary Coogan talked about her father Jim. I was particularly amazed by how well-spoken Mary was, and her father only these two months dead. They showed session footage of both Dermot and Jim--we missed the clips of Dermot, having arrived late--but it was a nice remembrance of both of them. Though, as several folks pointed out, it's a shame they weren't inducted into the Hall of Fame while they were still alive. Of course, Joanie Madden accepted her award herself, and I believe she's the first woman to receive the award while she's still alive. Her speech was short and sweet--a good thing, as everyone was getting antsy by then--especially the dancers.
A sizeable crowd, a newly-renovated hall (the Irish-American hall in Mineola), and some fun chats with people, including Rose Flanagan, Jimmy Kelly, Paul Keating, and plenty more I'm just not thinking of at the moment. At some point, we discovered Mike Rafferty, Willie Kelly, Felix Dolan, Donna Long, and Laura Byrne upstairs having a quiet tune. Tim Collins was around as well, but wasn't in the session at that moment. I didn't take the fiddle (yes, I know--it's probably a first, me not taking the fiddle, but I knew I wasn't in for the long haul), so no tunes for me, but I was very glad for some lovely subtle mellow music to balance the high-energy ceili band stuff downstairs.
The Book I'm Not Reading (but will very soon): Don Kulick's Language Shift and Cultural Reproduction: Socialization, Self, and Syncretism in a Papua New Guinean Village.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Baching it
This weekend, I'll be on my own--even the cat, alas, will be gone, despite an eleventh hour call to suss out the possibility that we want the cat more than her owner does. No answer to that, so I suppose in an hour Giblet will be on her way to a very long car trip to one of the states in the middle. Alas.
But in the meantime, I'll be here--reading & writing as usual, but also a little more free in my cooking endeavors, which means poultry is in! Not sure what I'll make tonight--any suggestions?
I also have a big music shindig to look forward to tomorrow night--the annual CCE Hall of Fame presentation and party. The event itself can run on and on (especially since my set dancing skills aren't up to enjoying the ceili that happens at the event)--one of these soda bread, tea, and beer functions (no complaints here)--but as with many trad events, the real fun is the party afterward. (Which is no news to many of you!) Anyway, tonight they're honoring Dermot Grogan, a box player who died of cancer a few years ago. A wonderful musician, great composer of tunes, and fun guy all around--I met him at the Catskills a couple of years before I moved up to NYC and had some nice sessions, but by the time I got here he wasn't able for much playing.
Also being honored are the late Jim Coogan, who died in December (or was it late November) of this year just past, and the very-much-living Joanie Madden. As some of you know (and witnessed!), I didn't have any time at all for Jim when I first met him, but as I grew up and mellowed out I came to really appreciate his sense of humor and nice-guy-ness.
And it's about time for me to get back into the trad world. I haven't even had the fiddle out in about a month--sad but true. I guess the question may be, "What are you, and what have you done with T????"
But in the meantime, I'll be here--reading & writing as usual, but also a little more free in my cooking endeavors, which means poultry is in! Not sure what I'll make tonight--any suggestions?
I also have a big music shindig to look forward to tomorrow night--the annual CCE Hall of Fame presentation and party. The event itself can run on and on (especially since my set dancing skills aren't up to enjoying the ceili that happens at the event)--one of these soda bread, tea, and beer functions (no complaints here)--but as with many trad events, the real fun is the party afterward. (Which is no news to many of you!) Anyway, tonight they're honoring Dermot Grogan, a box player who died of cancer a few years ago. A wonderful musician, great composer of tunes, and fun guy all around--I met him at the Catskills a couple of years before I moved up to NYC and had some nice sessions, but by the time I got here he wasn't able for much playing.
Also being honored are the late Jim Coogan, who died in December (or was it late November) of this year just past, and the very-much-living Joanie Madden. As some of you know (and witnessed!), I didn't have any time at all for Jim when I first met him, but as I grew up and mellowed out I came to really appreciate his sense of humor and nice-guy-ness.
And it's about time for me to get back into the trad world. I haven't even had the fiddle out in about a month--sad but true. I guess the question may be, "What are you, and what have you done with T????"
Thursday, February 8, 2007
The Old Simplicity
I've got that pesky paper turned in, such as it was. It certainly was not my best work ever, but I did manage to work in two Padraig O'Keeffe stories....
Now, on to more important things. As I was leaving school this evening, I decided that the one thing I really, really wanted to eat was macadamia-encrusted tuna. It's no wonder--I'd only eaten oatmeal (very early, while writing the so-called paper), a stale croissant, and a drinkable yoghurt today. So I stopped by Citarella on my way to the subway, got 1/3 pound of tuna and a bunch of watercress, thinking--soup? salad? I love the stuff, but rarely get it, mainly because it tends to be limp and sad in the supermarket. This too was fairly limp and sad, but it spoke to me, so home it came.
The prep time and cooking time for the fish was short, and a good thing it was, as I was about ready to eat the cat (except that I'd probably be allergic). I pulverized some macadamia nuts, mixed in some panko, squeezed some lemon juice over the fish, and then acquainted the fish with its crust. Pan-fried that sucker and ate it immediately.
"Dessert" came about an hour later. I decided that the other thing I really wanted was a baked potato, so I fecked a spud into the oven. For that, I sauteed the watercress in a big pat of butter and dumped that over the potato. Simple but delicious, just like last night's dinner of a baked sweet potato (again, with plenty of butter) and a boiled egg. That one reminded me of my grandfather: Pa's cooking endeavors were limited to whatever could be cooked on a stick inside the woodstove, in the ashes of the woodstove, or on top of the woodstove. If you have never had a potato baked slowly all day on the woodstove, you must.
And--shout out to Niamh Parsons, whose most recent album is titled "The Old Simplicity." She also rocks my world...I wonder if she remembers that she promised to sing at my 40th birthday party.... (As I looked for her website to link to, I see that she has a MySpace page...everybody does, these days!)
Now, on to more important things. As I was leaving school this evening, I decided that the one thing I really, really wanted to eat was macadamia-encrusted tuna. It's no wonder--I'd only eaten oatmeal (very early, while writing the so-called paper), a stale croissant, and a drinkable yoghurt today. So I stopped by Citarella on my way to the subway, got 1/3 pound of tuna and a bunch of watercress, thinking--soup? salad? I love the stuff, but rarely get it, mainly because it tends to be limp and sad in the supermarket. This too was fairly limp and sad, but it spoke to me, so home it came.
The prep time and cooking time for the fish was short, and a good thing it was, as I was about ready to eat the cat (except that I'd probably be allergic). I pulverized some macadamia nuts, mixed in some panko, squeezed some lemon juice over the fish, and then acquainted the fish with its crust. Pan-fried that sucker and ate it immediately.
"Dessert" came about an hour later. I decided that the other thing I really wanted was a baked potato, so I fecked a spud into the oven. For that, I sauteed the watercress in a big pat of butter and dumped that over the potato. Simple but delicious, just like last night's dinner of a baked sweet potato (again, with plenty of butter) and a boiled egg. That one reminded me of my grandfather: Pa's cooking endeavors were limited to whatever could be cooked on a stick inside the woodstove, in the ashes of the woodstove, or on top of the woodstove. If you have never had a potato baked slowly all day on the woodstove, you must.
And--shout out to Niamh Parsons, whose most recent album is titled "The Old Simplicity." She also rocks my world...I wonder if she remembers that she promised to sing at my 40th birthday party.... (As I looked for her website to link to, I see that she has a MySpace page...everybody does, these days!)
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Gratuitous trad post.
Maeve Donnelly rocks my world. Some of you already know that, but it's worth saying again and again. And the sound of her fiddle cuts through the subway noise during rush hour on the F train. Good woman yourself, Maeve!
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