I don’t play an instrument, but I wish I did. As a small boy my mother sent me to piano classes. She used to say that one day I would be at a party and there would be a piano in the room; I would play and become the life and soul of that party. This has never happened.
I hated the lessons. I am impatient. I dislike repetition and nuns who use metal rulers on knuckles as teaching aids. I eventually refused to go. I don’t regret this, but do envy those committed to the considerable discipline of learning to play an instrument. It amazes me that a piece of wood with strings attached, or a metal tube with holes drilled in it, can produce such beautiful sounds.
I hear these sounds as I walk into Purcell House at the DCU All Hallows campus. People are tuning up and rehearsing in advance of competing in the summer Feis Ceoil, a weeklong festival of more than 180 contests, attracting participants from around our island, aged from seven years.
I don’t photograph during the competitions but gravitate towards the rehearsal spaces. There’s energy in these rooms. People are studying their music, concentrating in advance of competing, or unwinding post-competition.
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Though most performances are individual, there is a team spirit. People know each other from classes and the competition circuit. Of course there are medals and cups. But, to me, the bigger prize seems to be the ability to make beautiful music, to be the life and soul of one’s own party.
