AS SHE delivered her regular Word of the Day slot on Breakfast With Hector(2FM, weekdays), Evelyn McClafferty took no chances with her definition. "It's fun, it's light-hearted, it's not really deep," said the newscaster. It was a pretty good description of McClafferty's mot du jour– "whimsical" – but she need not have bothered with her verbal contortions. Hector Ó hEochagáin's morning show provides a good practical example of the adjective in action.
Indeed, to characterise the programme as whimsical is at times to confer it with an unwarranted gravitas. The show is essentially a catalogue of the presenter’s catchphrases and affectations, with the odd quirky item thrown in. But while the content may be gossamer light, Ó hEochagáin’s appeal rests on more than generic radio-jock patter. Having made his name as a globe-trotting Gaeilgeoir, the presenter now tailors his every utterance to chime with rural middle Ireland, or at least a buck-leppin’, thigh-slappin’, mad-for-the-craic version of the place. So it was no surprise that Ó hEochagáin’s spiel went into overdrive last week, as he broadcast from the National Ploughing Championships in Athy, or, as he repeatedly called it, “the Electric Picnic for farmers”.
On Tuesday, in his Galway studio, the presenter was animated at the prospect of the event. “I can imagine all the Isuzu Troopers going in with the cow dung splattered on them,” he rhapsodised. When he started broadcasting there, on Wednesday, he revelled in the atmosphere and, indeed, the hospitality, issuing an on-air request for a latte to the surrounding concession stands. When the fast-food chain Supermac’s obliged, Ó hEochagáin repaid the debt by praising it as a “proud Galway company”.
To be fair, his interest in homegrown businesses seems rooted in more than a desire for morning coffee. On Thursday, he hosted his own take on Dragons' Den– called, predictably enough, Bulls' Den – giving five small firms a chance to promote their wares. It was a curiously uplifting item, Ó hEochagáin's enthusiastic approach highlighting enterprises that get overlooked amid the economic gloom. Nor did he trade in knee-jerk Paddywhackery, describing the publicity stunt of Arthur's Day as "a toast to a multinational company".
In his own way, Ó hEochagáin is a bright spot in the uncertain 2FM of the post-Gerry Ryan era. Since he assumed the breakfast slot, just under a year ago, Ó hEochagáin has carved a distinctive niche, making him one of the few station presenters not obviously living in the shadow of the late Ryan.
But his limitations are obvious too. His banter quickly loses its charm and his flashes of wit are flogged like the proverbial equine carcass: his line about dung-splattered Jeeps was endlessly recycled in sundry variations. He might benefit from less contrivance and, for that matter, more whimsy.
If the ploughing championships were a natural fit for Ó hEochagáin, the event also hosted less obvious shows. The arts magazine Arena(RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) was broadcast from Athy on Wednesday, with welcome results. Much of the fare was not especially exciting, from the blues-rock band The Riptide Movement to the stand-up comedian Paul Tylak, but, faced with an audience from beyond his usual constituency, the presenter Seán Rocks hosted a show with pleasing impact that was greater than its parts.
There was good stuff too: the guitarist Mark O'Reilly delivered spare but arresting folk-blues and the young poet Sarah Maria Griffin proved a sparky presence. Rocks's chirpy style, which often sounds misplaced during the programme's more earnest studio-bound items, sounded the right note in a more lively context. On this showing, there is more to Arenathan its usual menu of literary discussions and film reviews, once the artists do the talking.
A kind of reverse alchemy was in evidence on Arts Tonight(RTÉ Radio 1, Mondays), in which a centenary tribute to Flann O'Brien managed to suck most of the enjoyment, exhilaration and humour out of the writer's work. Much of this was down to the show's talking-heads format, as a panel of academics dissected O'Brien's life and output. One guest, Carol Taaffe, spoke of O'Brien making "the ordinary very strange", while she and her guests worked precisely the opposite process on their subject. The discussion yielded some insights but was fatally lacking in levity or mischief.
The most telling contributions emerged elsewhere. In a suitably gnomic interview, O’Brien’s younger brother Micheál Ó Nualláin said little of substance about the writer’s life but gave a whiff of the repressed oddness he sprang from. Asked by host Vincent Woods if he missed his brother, Ó Nualláin said he did, “in a sort of a way, but not in the way you miss other friends”.
The writer Kevin Barry perhaps captured O'Brien's appeal best: "We live in a very skewed and strange little island, and you have to have a warped vision to see it clearly." Barry and Ó Nualláin aside, such voices were missing amid the arid analyses of Arts Tonight.Seriousness is not always a virtue.
radioreview@irishtimes.com
Radio moment of the week
On Miriam Meets(RTÉ Radio 1, Sundays), the actor Ciarán Hinds and his sister Bronagh painted a gently arresting family portrait, from their Belfast upbringing to the deaths of their father and sister.
But a piece of music prompted the biggest reaction, when the musician Joanne Quigley performed The Coolin, an air beloved of the siblings' late dancing teacher. After the piece finished, Ciarán was audibly choked up. Watching Quigley play was, he said, like "seeing a body from another time, swaying as she played it. Just memories".
Far from being a luvvie outburst, it was a quietly resonant moment.
