REPORT ON THE
TOMMY MAKEM INTERNATIONAL FESTIVAL OF SONG
JUNE 3rd.-JUNE 10th 2000, SOUTH ARMAGH

Martyn Kaal, the Netherlands

Last year in our summer holidays we passed through the City of Armagh and visited the Tourist bureau in that most interesting  ecclesiastical centre. Being lifelong fans of Tommy Makem we enquired whether he would be present or performing in the district at that particular time. Immediately phone calls were made to Keady and the reply was negative. However they notified us on the possibility that next year Tommy would be around for something special and they gave us the address, email and phone-number of Peter Makem of the organising committee.

After completing our 1999 travels in Ireland, including Portrush, Ballycastle and Belfast in our itinerary, we returned home to the Netherlands and got in touch with Peter soon enough. He sent us detailed information about the background of the festival, the participants, dates, the accommodation and the programme. After taking account of all this I decided there would be no excuse for missing this opportunity and head out for South Armagh.

In the afternoon of June 3rd we met in Forkhill, unpacked our luggage and had a cup of tea with our landlord and lady, both very pleasant company and extremely helpful. With our friends from Belfast, the Meenehans, we drove round the district, inspecting the back roads of South Armagh and Crossmaglen. For our meal we decided to go to Dundalk and then returned to Mullaghban for an evening concert in the community centre, Ti Chulainn. This gave us our first chance to meet with the committee that introduced itself to the crowd. We made acquaintance with the locals and the American delegation. All made us feel extremely welcome, it was Céad Míle Fáilte from beginning to end. Tommy Makem and sons plus the Sands family treated us to great songs and a few stories as well. Everyone was encouraged to join in with the chorus and most people did, there was quite a storm blowing at the end of the concert. South Armagh had broken the ice if it was ever there. We got back to Forkhill, henceforth called home, with ears ringing.

On Monday we were taken by Kate, one of the American participants, first and mistakenly to the Slieve Gullion Courtyard, where the venue had been cancelled due to reconstructing work. Quickly we drove back to Ti Chulainn to enjoy a lecture on poetry and the origins of rhythm and rhyme, well presented by Peter Makem who made the poems sound like songs.

Afterwards we had some lunch in the centre and sang with the Americans outside on the stone circle. Acoustics in the clear open air were good and some fine singers presented themselves. Slieve Gullion looked down on us and did not seem to object.

By hired Ulsterbus, that stayed with the group the greater part of the week, we took a guided trip through the South Armagh countryside, which proved to be peaceful and filled with historic interest. The Ogham letters, Newry Canal, dolmen, the gap of the North, the history and legends of South Armagh and the border, all came to life during this well presented tour. A good bit of time was spent with the exchanging of songs-imagine Dutch and Americans coming to South Armagh to swap Irish songs, that is the multicultural aspect.

Our meal was enjoyed in a large company in the Canal Court Hotel in Newry, a grand place with every facility one could wish. Around the table we continued our musical session, careful not to frighten the other customers.

As evening drew nigh we walked to the Mourne Court Hotel on the north side of town where the American guests had their lodgings. The whole lot of us got on the bus and drove out to Creggan, where a large hall had been made available for a show called “The 300 million years of history of South Armagh”. This proved to be an understatement as a geologist explained that the history goes back at least 500 million years. Being a teacher of geography I enjoyed his explanation of continental drift, volcanic activities, the caldera which forms the ring of Gullion, the different strata of rock and the huge influence of the different ice-ages on the local landscape, including the tail of Slieve Gullion.

This story was enlightened by slides, beautiful songs, and poetry read by Peter, a grand night. At the end of it we got together to do more songs, Tommy and his sons doing a fine job, they were tireless and in good spirits from beginning to end.  John, one of the Americans, gave his guitar a blast and I did a Scottish version of the song “the Nightingale”, many people joining up with the chorus. The soundsystem was near-nigh absent but, thanks to the politeness of the audience, we could make ourselves be heard easily.

After plenty of talk with musicians, locals, and French and Germans touring the area, we were taken home by our landlord and lady and contentedly rolled into bed.

 On Tuesday we had a hearty breakfast as usual, be it Irish or Ulster, a cross-border fry. It was a lovely morning and we walked on the byroads from Forkhill to the Cloverhill Golf Club where our American friends had just arrived. Tommy Makem addressed us with a lecture on “The grace and power of lyrics and melody” which proved once and for all the great power of songs to charm and be charmed and to bring people together. Many digressions, serious and humorous songs  and remarks made for a lively morning. The song “Redmond O’Hanlon” was sung by all, it proved to be the peg for our festival and was done many times by Tommy, even on the radio.

It was cosy sitting g close together at the dinner table in the golf club, filling our bellies with fine Irish spuds and beef.

The afternoon tour carried the group through the mountains to Carlingford, with lovely views over the Mournes and Rostrevor and even as far as Dublin Bay on the other side. Marianne and myself were, over the last 25 years, keen singers of the song “Carlingford” so we did it again on the bus and out there in the hills, a wee dream come true.

Marianne, herself a tourist guide in Amsterdam, had a nice chat with Anne who had done the guiding for the day. The busdriver dropped us off at home. Both drivers that week proved to be very helpful, ready to drive us anywhere at any time of the day and night and always in good spirits.

That same night brought us back to the Golfclub for songs and stories. The Makems were singing again, there was a group from Dublin,  and some great storytelling (and singing) was done by John Campbell and Len Graham, giving us an impression of the great artistry of the Shanachie.

The craic was enhanced by a large group of Poles who were able to attend this one venue. They had not much English but great enthusiasm carried them through. Two of them did a Polish folksong and we talked in German with some of them. When their bus was ready to whisk them off to Ti Chulainn, some of them didn’t want to go and had to be dragged out by their fellow-Poles.

When most people had left, Jan and myself stayed for a singing session with the Dublin group and  locals from Mullaghban including Len Graham. Some beautiful songs were enjoyed and we returned home with Art and Maura most impressed by the friendliness and generosity that were extended to us.

On Wednesday morning it was up to Ti Chulainn once more for a lecture on the fiddle music of the Donegal fiddler John Docherty. David Hammond did a great job at it, especially bringing to life the way rural people lived in Ulster in the past century. The fiddle tunes of John Docherty were played on tape and afterwards we were able to talk to David, another Ulsterman who has done great deeds for the survival and enhancement of the Irish song tradition. Unfortunately he was pressed to return to his home in Belfast and was unable to return in the second half of the festival week.

Marianne stayed home to rest herself in the afternoon while Jan and myself were taken up the mountain road by Art and put down just below the top of Slieve Gullion. We walked to the summit, where we had a great view of the Ring of Gullion and almost the half of Ireland, from the Wicklow Mountains  in the South to Lough Neagh in the North, and from the Irish Sea in the East to Slieve anIarinn in the far West. It was great while it lasted, soon we were overtaken by clouds, rain and little hailstones. We walked down through blooming flowers, bog cotton, pine and deciduous forests until we came to a hard road, where a friendly lady proposed (without us asking) to drive us home to Forkhill. It was there we had hot tea and scones and a shower to make ourselves presentable to the outside world.

We took a quick meal from the Mullaghban takeaway and set out for Ti Chulainn, where we were invited to take part in the commemorative event for those in South Armagh who had kept the fire of traditional song, music, poetry, and storytelling lit in troubled times. There was mention of many artists in their right, certificates were handed to those still with us and relatives of those who have passed away. There was great applause, songs by the Makems and Eugene from America, readings of poetry and presentations by the organising committee.

We were moved by the sincerity of the commemoration, some people were crying at the mention of names of their loved ones.

On Thursday in the morning we assembled in Belleek in the Country House, where the locals and some diehards from the American group came together to listen to a lecture on Irish songs in Europe by Tommy Sands. Obviously this topic has many Dutch, German, French, Spanish and Scandinavian connections. It was great to see on video how the Sands family had been playing in East Germany before the fall of the wall. The song “The Winds are singing freedom” (one of Tommy Makem’s) got these Germans into a very special mood.

Tommy did a very good job indeed and explained the popularity of Irish music in Europe and especially in Germany, where the local folk music has been tainted by fascism and the marching drum. Irish bars are to be found and heard all over Europe now and the music brings together such a motley crew: young and very old, environmentalists and golf-players craving for green, fishermen going for salmon, revolutionaries, ethnic minorities (Basks, Frisians, Bretons), Celtic magicians, boozers, soccer hooligans, horse-people and all those that go for craic, friendship and homeliness, as the cup of tea in the Irish kitchen beats all. This last line is not by Tommy Sands, but his stories made me think on this theme: What draws so many people to Ireland?

The morning ended with questions, some answers, a few lines of songs and friendly conversation. Like David Hammond and the Makems, Tommy Sands displayed a great love of his music and all those that participate in it.

In the afternoon everyone on the bus was in good spirits and many a song was sung in the back of it. We were taken to the City of Armagh and briefly admired the two cathedrals. A wedding in the Catholic one gave us some delay and Tommy Makem was shaking hands with some of the guests at the party. Next stop was at Navan Fort, where an historical overview was given of stone-age and iron-age County Armagh, including the legends of Maeve and Cuchulainn.

Products of local artesanry were sampled in Derrynoose and we had a wee lunch in Keady, Tommy Makem’s hometown, while the bus went up and down to Newry to please some American guests. It came back in time for the busdriver to take snapshots of our group in the middle of Keady, let’s hope they turn out well as they’ll show how much fun we had.

From Keady it was back to Belleek for another surprise: a feast of bardic revelry and hellery, in which all the bards of Armagh and surrounding counties showed us their ways with the words. Some of the wisecracks and accents were difficult to follow for us poor Dutchmen, but we found a great enjoyment and fun, some good actors, funny voices, and jokes that would make ladies in Old Amsterdam blush.

At this venue our dear friend Matt from Dublin, a long-time member of our songcircle since the days when he worked in the Netherlands, made a surprise appearance and would stay with us till the end of the festival. He gave us a ride back home that night.

On Friday the morning lecture had to be cancelled as our speaker, Gerry Doherty, (recommended by friends) was not well, so we had the morning off and time for reading, writing postcards and a stroll. We met Tommy Makem on the road and he was helpful and full of stories. Then we walked up the hill behind Forkhill to talk to the magic whitethorn tree and among ourselves, feeling happy in the sunshine looking down on the lake and home. We kept clear of the top since the birdlife up there is not recommended by anyone we met in South Armagh and that’s all we’ll say of that issue.

In the afternoon Marianne went on tour with the Americans to the Mournes and had a very good time in the company of the Makems g. Matt, Jan and myself took a small singing session in O’Hanlons pub in Mullaghban, where we had time and quiet surroundings for our songs and recall memories. Then we drove out to the Mourne Court Hotel, and, together with Marianne, several Americans and the Makems we settled down in the Canal Court for our supper.

From the hotel the crowd made for Lislea, for the Grand Ceili. We arrived early and few people had turned up as yet, so we started a singing session in the bar, including African songs and Dutch songs. The Americans and Makems joined us again. The locals “forced” me to take part in the dancing, to the tunes of a fine Ceilidh-band, first time ever. It made me sweat like a marathon runner.

Late in the evening most of us left for Mullaghban, where we got into the session at O’Hanlons. We were welcomed to take part in the music, there was a big crowd, microphones, and a local band. Tommy Makem sang “Redmond O’Hanlon”, most appropriate. The Americans were in good form and I tried singing the “Newry Highwayman” and got no complaints, very satisfactory.

The session lasted till 2 a.m. and ended in Irish style. Tired but satisfied we got home.

On Saturday the stock of postcards had disappeared and there were none left in Mullaghban, showing that tourism needs more developing. Next time there’ll probably be new postcards, posh restaurants and Dutch evening papers in the local shops (I hope not). I tried to hitchhike to Dundalk to buy some ( I know this sounds crazy to most readers of my story), but alas no luck, just a long walk on both sides of the border, nice views and some refreshing rain.

At home we had tea and went to O’Hanlons for our first pint of the day and for a meeting with Matt, who stayed in a B&B round the corner. At Ti Chulainn we had lunch and met with all the familiar faces: Committee, Makems, Americans and locals alike.

The afternoon was filled with musical presentations by Eugene, John and other Americans, and the Makems. Matt and ourselves did a Dutch concert to give the festival a multicultural boost. Nobody understood the words, but we got the message through that the old fishing life of our Zuiderzeeballads has disappeared. Part of the sea has been turned into potato fields, freshwater lakes and new housing estates, come and see for yourselves next time you are in the Netherlands and we’ll give you a song to go with it.

While Tommy Makem sang, dozens of crows settled down in the field behind him and they seemed to be excited and flapping their wings as soon as he speeded up the rhythm. Tommy told us the crows tend to get on his tail regularly, he’d make a terrible scarecrow.

The Armagh Rhymers put on a great show, camouflaged in straw hats and singing traditional childrens’ songs, wrenboys’ songs and mumming-songs, well known from Tommy Makem’s and David Hammond’s recordings. The children in the company had great fun and were constantly involved in the proceedings. At the end we sat down again on the stones of the stone-circle and sang Irish songs with the Irish and the Americans, who had become more and more Irish in the course of the festival.

Matt and ourselves drove out to Meagh for our dinner at Murphy’s and then on to Newry to the Mourne Court hotel, where the whole group had assembled for a farewell party in which everyone (at least 30 people) participated. Many complimented the Makems and the Committee on the work they’d done to make the festival a success, everyone will want to come back next year and preferably with a few friends. We will certainly try to make it.

Marianne got a lot of help in the chorus of the Grey Funnel line, Tommy Makem had a great version of the Loch Tay Fishermen, Matt put an Irish stamp on the night with “For Ireland I’ll not tell her name” in Irish and my “Irish peasant girl” was well appreciated by the sons of the emigrants of old.

After everyone, including the children, had done a song, a story, an impression or some poetry, we set off for the barn in Mullaghban and continued the session with the locals, a band, 15 Americans with energy left, and the Makem Brothers. Jan was in good singing form  and many stories were told, everyone being happy and sad at the same time. Happy that so much had gone well during the festival and that we would all live on with these pleasant memories and new friends. Sad to take the parting glass. Hopeful to be back the next time and grateful for all the gifts received. Thank you South Armagh.

On Saturday we took leave of Maura and Art who have become great friends and left for Dublin (more songs there) and home in the Netherlands.

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