Resisting Cultural Standardization: Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann and The Revitalization of Traditional Music in Ireland

Besisling CuIluvaI Slandavdizalion ConIaIlas CeoIliv iveann and lIe BevilaIizalion oJ
TvadilionaI Music in IveIand

AulIov|s) BacIeI C. FIening
Souvce JouvnaI oJ FoIIIove BeseavcI, VoI. 41, No. 2/3, SpeciaI BouIIe Issue Advocac Issues in
FoIIIove |Ma - Bec., 2004), pp. 227-257
FuIIisIed I Indiana University Press
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Rachel C
Fleming
Resisting
Cultural Standardization:
Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann
and the Revitalization of
Traditional Music in Ireland
Introduction
In the context of
global
musical
exchange,
an
increasingly
urban so?
cial
environment,
and tensions between local and national musical
styles,
the
question
of
authenticity
is central for both scholars and
practitioners
of folk music. How can we balance efforts to
preserve
traditional music1 with the
challenge
of
defining
music
that,
as an
oral
tradition,
is
inherently dynamic,
unbounded,
and diverse? Like
language,
communication
through
traditional music
depends upon
understood
conventions,
yet
these rules
suggest possibilities
rather
than dictate action. Here we encounter the
paradox
of most cultural
forms,
including
traditional music:
they
must
constrain,
or base them?
selves
upon
a set of
rules,
in order to allow for communication and
creativity.
In the case of Irish traditional
music,
the tensions between
different
groups struggling
with this
paradox appear
to have aided
the survival and
vitality
of the music itself.
Traditional music has been characterized
by
its
development
over
time as a form of social communication in
relatively
isolated locali?
ties.
Today,
however,
this
type
of music also serves as a
symbol
of na?
tional or ethnic
identity
for
many people.
National
governments
and
leaders of ethnic movements are
increasingly
interested in
promot?
ing unique
cultural
traditions,
while traditional musicians are self-
Journal of
Folklore
Research,
Vol.
41,
No.
2/3,
2004
Copyright
? 2004
Department
of Folklore and
Ethnomusicology,
Indiana
University
227
228 Rachel C.
Fleming
conscious of their roles in
preserving
and
passing
on their music in
ways they
feel are authentic. The nationalization
process
includes some
definition and
homogenization
of culture in order for
individuals,
movement
organizers,
and/or
governments
to claim a distinctive
national
identity
and establish a nation
(see
Anderson
1983;
Gellner
1983;
Smith
1989).
While
groups
with
differing
views about what is
authentic
may argue substantively
about how traditional music is
played
and
performed,
these
struggles
are as much about who has
the
power
to define or authenticate a
particular
cultural form as
they
are about music itself.
State
sponsorship
of a folk music revitalization
effort,
often moti?
vated
by
nationalism,
has the
potential
both to authenticate a
parti?
cular
style
of music over other
styles
and to "reinvent"?and so alter
?traditional music
(Hobsbawm 1983).
Either
possibility
can be
deeply
threatening
for musicians. In
reality,
the line between the state and
locally
based
groups
in a music revitalization movement is often
blurred,
and
sub-groups
and dissension within
groups
are common?
place.
Yet
struggles
over what folk music should
be,
as seen in debates
and
public
discourse
during
revitalization
movements,
can
provide
a
useful focus for
analyzing questions
about
authenticity
and
gauging
the value of state
sponsorship.
In
Ireland,
the national
government
has taken an active role in the
preservation
of Irish traditional
music,
leading
to tensions between a
state-sponsored organization
and musicians.
My essay
focuses on the
Irish-based cultural
organization
(pro?
nounced
roughly
"kol-to kel-tor\
air-tm"),
Irish-Gaelic for "Association
of Musicians of Ireland" and
commonly
referred to as CCE or
Comhaltas. Founded in
1951,
the
organization
has been
largely spon?
sored
by
the Irish
government
and,
through
a combination of nation?
alist
politics,
music
competitions,
centralized
bureaucracy,
and
grassroots
activism,
has
played
an
important
role in
preserving
and
revitalizing
traditional music in Ireland.
Today,
Comhaltas
reports
over
four hundred branches and a
membership
of more than
thirty-five
thou?
sand.2 Comhaltas
provides
a formalized social network for
practitioners
of Irish traditional music and is
responsible
for
introducing
thousands
of children and adult
beginners
to the music
through
music
education,
music-related
events, tourism,
recordings,
and
publications.
My analysis
of Comhaltas's role in the
shaping
of
contemporary
Irish traditional music is based on fieldwork conducted in Ireland
Resisting
Cultural Standardization 229
during
the summer of 1999. As a novice fiddle
player
I fell
easily
into
the role of a music
student,
participating
in formal music classes and
the informal "sessions" in
pubs
and homes where Irish music is most
often
played. During
fieldwork at music
competitions,
music
schools,
and
sessions,
I found that Comhaltas was the
subject
of intense de?
bate
among
musicians.3 Because Irish traditional music is based on
variation within certain musical forms and has distinctive
regional
styles,
musicians felt threatened
by
the
implication
of standardiza?
tion in Comhaltas's music
competitions.
Debates about Comhaltas
generally
revolved around fears about music
standardization,
loss of
musical
diversity,
and a lack of control over how Irish traditional music
is
publicly portrayed.
However,
the
implications
of these fears
were,
for the most
part,
not
supported by my
observations.
In this
essay,
I review the historical context in which Comhaltas
arose,
then
explore contemporary critiques
of the
organization
and
assess whether these
critiques
are
justifiable. Finally,
I evaluate
Comhaltas's current role in
light
of these data
and,
by
extension,
the
value of state
sponsorship
in
encouraging diversity
in traditional music.
In his 1989 article on Comhaltas Ceoltoiri
Eireann,
Edward O.
Henry
addresses the tensions between convention and
change
as seen in
traditional music and concludes:
These two
forces,
the old and the
new,
are the dramatis
personae
in the
continuing
evolution of folk music. The role of
sponsorship
should be
to
provide
the
stage
for the drama to be
played
out,
to continue to in?
volve
people
with music that
speaks
of their collective
experience,
mu?
sic that
they
can
perform
with the
old/new
balance
they prefer. By
these
criteria
[Comhaltas]
has been
quite
successful.
(Henry
1989:94)
In this
article,
I build on
Henry's argument by suggesting
that Com?
haltas not
only provides
a
stage
for these
debates,
but is also itself an
active?though perhaps unintentional?agent
in
stimulating
debate
about the old and the new in Irish traditional music.
Irish
Nationalism,
Cultural
Revival,
and the Rescue
of Traditional Music
Ireland's
history
as a colonized nation has set a
precedent
for
locally
based resistance to centralized rule and at the same time
helped
to
establish the
importance
of a
distinctive,
uniform Irish
identity op?
posed
to that of an
English
"other." These
conflicting ideologies may
230 Rachel C.
Fleming
help explain why
Irish cultural
symbols,
like traditional
music,
have
often been
caught up
in tensions between local and national defini?
tions of Irish culture.
Beginning
in the twelfth
century, Anglo-Norman
colonists at?
tempted
to rule a
fragmented
Irish
population
whom
they
treated,
for the most
part,
as a
homogenous
ethnic
group.
The Statutes of
Kilkenny,
established
by
the
Anglo-Normans
in
1366,
forbade Irish
laws, customs,
and
language,
and outlawed
intermarriage
between
Irish and
Anglo-Normans
(Hutchinson 1987:51).
Failed rebellions
against
British overlords in the seventeenth
century
resulted in bru?
tal
military repression
led
by
Oliver Cromwell
(Clarke 1995).
This
campaign
accelerated the transfer of land and wealth to a Protestant
upper
class that had
begun
in the late sixteenth
century
under Eliza?
beth I and continued
through
the late seventeenth
century.
The
Penal Laws of this time also barred Catholics from
holding govern?
mental,
legal,
or
military
office,
and
greatly
restricted their
property
holding.
In the
eighteenth
and nineteenth
centuries,
the Catholic
majority
was further
marginalized by
successive waves of
potato crop
failures and
epidemics
(Wall 1995). Meanwhile,
urban Protestant in?
tellectuals felt alienated
by English
rule and
organized
the first
major
political independence
movements in the late
eighteenth century
(Hutchinson 1987:54-55).
John
Hutchinson describes three
major
cultural revivals in Ire?
land?involving
both Protestants and Catholics?that
began
in the
late 1700s and culminated in Irish
independence
in 1921. The lead?
ers of these revivals looked to a
mythic
time before
Irish-English
con?
flict,
to the Gaelic roots of Irish
civilization,
including
the Irish
language
and traditional
music,
and Ireland's
early
involvement with Chris?
tianity
as
inspiration
for a renewed Irish culture
(55-60).
Hutchinson
argues
that these movements were
largely
driven
by
cultural
nationalism,
which he describes as an
impulse originating
in
diverse,
locally
based movements and
aiming
to
regenerate
the dis?
tinctive moral character of the
nation,
mainly through
literature and
art
(16).
Cultural
nationalism,
Hutchinson
argues,
is to be distin?
guished
from
political
nationalism,
or the modernist drive to estab?
lish a civic
polity
of
equal
citizens with a
representative
state
(12-13).
Tensions between
political
and cultural nationalism in Ireland's na?
tion-building process
echo those between national claims to a rela-
Resisting
tively homogenous
Irish
identity
and more
local,
conflicting
ideas
about what is
authentically
Irish.
While motivated in
large part by
cultural
nationalism,
the cultural
revival that occurred from 1890 to 1921 also succeeded in Irish
politi?
cal
independence
and in
establishing
national cultural
organizations
that would
shape
Ireland in the next
century.
Two
organizations
in
particular,
the Gaelic
League
and the Gaelic Athletic Association
(GAA),
revived and standardized
aspects
of Irish culture
by promot?
ing
them on a national scale. The Gaelic
League,
founded in
1893,
promoted
the Irish
language
and introduced Irish into the national
school curriculum
(Hutchinson 1987:185),
a
process
that resulted in
its relative standardization
(O
Baoill
1988)
.4 The
GAA,
founded in
1884,
revived and in
many
senses reinvented the
sports
of Gaelic foot?
ball and
hurling,
which
they promoted nationally by creating
stan?
dard
rules,
a
system
of
county
teams,
and national tournaments
(Cronin 1999).
Gaelic
sports
remain the most
popular sporting
events
in Ireland
today.
During
these
early
cultural
revivals,
several nationalistic
organiza?
tions focused on Irish traditional
music,
but none succeeded in a
national music revival. The Belfast
Harp
Festival in 1792 celebrated
traditional music and nationalism with the
support
of the United
Irishmen,
a militant nationalist
group,
but the festival did not be?
come a
larger
or
ongoing
event
(Vallely
1999:182).
Over a
century
later,
in
1897,
the Dublin
Piper's
Club,
in
conjunction
with the Gaelic
League,
held their first
feis
cheoil,
or music
festival,
which included
music
competitions
and
performances using
the uilleann
pipes
and
the
harp,
which is the oldest and
perhaps
most
symbolically
Irish of
instruments
(121).5
Although
the
organization
and its feis
endured,
this
attempted
music revival was not as successful as that of the Irish
language
and
sports, probably
due to the lack of a nationwide institu?
tional structure and the limited
appeal
for musicians who did not
play
the
pipes
or the
harp.
The 1930s?the
early years
of the Irish
Republic?were heavily
influenced
by
the vision of Eamon de
Valera,
who led Ireland for
most of the
period
from 1932 to 1973. De Valera
famously
idealized
rural Ireland as a "land whose
countryside
would be
bright
with
cosy
homesteads,
whose fields and
villages
would be
joyous
with sounds of
industry,
the
romping
of
sturdy
children,
the contests of athletic
232 Rachel C.
Fleming
youths,
the
laughter
of
comely
maidens"
(de
Valera
1943:1).
The
harp
was
adopted
as the national emblem and
printed
on
currency,
while
Irish Gaelic was made a
compulsory subject
in schools
(Brown
1985:113).
The Catholic Church had
great power
and was allied
closely
with the new Irish state. Influential
political parties supported orga?
nizations
promoting
Gaelic
games
and traditional music and dance
(113).
Folklore and music were
collected,
and new efforts to trace
Irish
history began
(114).
By
the 1940s and
1950s,
Ireland was well established as an inde?
pendent
state.
Nonetheless,
in a climate of
poverty, emigration,
and
violence in Northern
Ireland,
Irish citizens were
hearing conflicting
messages
about their culture. On the one
hand,
nationalist
politics
maintained that cultural
symbols
were
important
in
distinguishing
Irish
identity
from that of its historic
oppressor.
On the other
hand,
Ireland was under
pressure
to modernize in order to
join
the Euro?
pean community economically
and
socially. Many
Irish
citizens?par?
ticularly young people?associated
traditional
music,
like the Irish
language,
with a
rural,
backward
way
of life.
Dermot,
a traditional
singer,6
relates the
rejection
of traditional music in the 1940s to a
crisis in national
identity:
The music became associated with the
Irish-speaking population.
And
the
language being
redundant. . .
[the music]
was
regarded
as not be?
ing
of
any
use or backward. ... I think it was kind of the idea that
[Ire?
land]
was a new nation state.
Having
a new
identity
. . . but
you
would
have
people
that would be
raving
nationalists and
they
would look down
on the Irish music and the Irish
language.
Which seems almost a con?
tradiction in terms!
Additionally,
the Public Dance Halls Act of
1935,
sponsored by
the Catholic Church and the Irish
government, effectively
outlawed
the "house
dance,"
a blend of
music,
dancing,
and
storytelling
held
at a
private
home,
which was a main social outlet in rural Ireland at
that time. The church claimed that
unsupervised
dances allowed new
dance
styles
from abroad that were seen as
promoting
licentious be?
havior;
additionally,
financial
profit
from
licensing
dances went to
both the church and the
government
(Austin 1993).
Although
there
is some
controversy
as to how
effectively
this ban was enforced
(McCann 2002:82),
it did affect
public perceptions
of traditional
music. The Dance Halls
Act,
together
with
negative stigma
and an
Resisting
influx of American dance music in the 1940s and 1950s facilitated
by
new music
technology,
resulted in traditional music
losing
social rel?
evance.7
Tom,
a flute
player,
remembered
being
a
young
musician
during
this time: "When I went to Dublin in the
early
fifties there
wasn't much interest at all
[in music]....
I
expected
to
maybe play
a
lot ofmusic and meet a lot of
musicians,
but it wasn't like that. ...
[I]t
was called
'peasant
music.'"
Signaling
the
beginning
of a dramatic turnaround for Irish tradi?
tional
music,
a
group
of nationalists and musicians from the Dublin
Piper's
Club founded Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann in 1951.8 The
founders
began
the Fleadh Cheoil na hEireann
(pronounced
"flah kae-
ole na
air-un"),
or "music festival of
Ireland,"
an annual event featur?
ing
music
competitions. They
also established a central office and
local branches for music education
throughout
Ireland. Fin tan
Vallely,
musician and music
historian, writes,
"The
atmosphere
of
[Com?
haltas's]
early years
was
urgent;
'revival' was seen as a mission to
pass
on valued traditions and ensure their survival and enhancement for
posterity"
(1999:79).
Building
on
previous
Gaelic cultural
revivals,
Comhaltas used a
national infrastructure and advocated nationalist sentiments.
Comhaltas's website lists the official "Aims and
Objectives"
of the or?
ganization,
which remain
unchanged
since its
founding
(Comhaltas
Ceoltoiri Eireann
2002a):
To
promote
Irish Traditional Music in all its forms
To restore the
playing
of the
harp
and Uilleann
Pipes
in the National
life of Ireland
To
promote
Irish Traditional
Dancing
To foster and
promote
the Irish
Language
at all times
To create a closer bond
among
all lovers of Irish music
To
cooperate
with all bodies
working
for the restoration of Irish Culture
To establish branches
throughout
the
country
and abroad to achieve
the
foregoing
aims and
objectives
As
Henry
notes,
these aims reflect de Valera's cultural nationalism
and idealization of rural Irish life
(1989:69).
In addition to
securing
state
sponsorship,
Comhaltas also
proved
successful on the local level
through
their branch activities and
par?
ticularly through
music
competitions.
Soon after it was
established,
the Fleadh Cheoil na hEireann
(known
also as the "All-Ireland
234 Rachel C.
Fleming
Fleadh,"
or
simply
"the Fleadh" or "the
All-Ireland")
became the cul?
mination of several
county
and
regional
fleadhs,
each with rounds of
competitions. Jerry,
a button accordion
player, explained
the
impact
these
early
fleadhs had on his uncle in the 1950s:
"County
fleadhs
were
great
social occasions for
people
like
[my
uncle]
who were
isolated. . . . Musicians used to
go
and
they'd
meet each other and
they'd just
be so
happy
to meet each other that the
competition
didn't
really
matter a lot." Another older musician noted that the
early
com?
petitions capitalized
on a
competitive spirit among
Irish counties al?
ready
established
through
Gaelic
sports:
"In our time
[the Fleadh]
was
nearly
like the
holding
of the
big
[Gaelic
football
match],
for
[county] Tipperary
would be
supporting
the
Tipperary entry
and
[county] Galway people
would be
supporting
the
Galway
musicians
and that kind of
thing.
And it was
good
fun,
it was."
Competitions
contributed to the success of the Fleadhs in
part
because
they encouraged
musicians to
gather
at the
festivals,
where
they
could
compete,
see others
compete,
socialize,
and share music
by playing
in sessions.
Competitions
also created a carnival
atmosphere
that attracted non-musicians and
especially
children;
they
lent na?
tional
prestige
to traditional music
by establishing
a concrete valua?
tion
system
and
they
raised the technical standards of music. The
Fleadh Cheoil na hEireann has been
consistently
well attended since
its
founding
and is still
popular.
The New York Times
reported
that the
2002 Fleadh was attended
by
an estimated
220,000
people (Lavery
2002:B2).
Since the
1950s,
Comhaltas's efforts?in combination with
many
other factors?have contributed to the
growing popularity
of Irish
traditional music in Ireland and abroad. Several musicians
reported
that even in the 1970s
they
were ridiculed
by
teachers and
peers
for
playing
traditional music.
Today,
however,
Irish traditional music is
part
of
many
school curricula and various
types
of music schools are
flourishing.
The international
popularity
of bands that
play
traditional
Irish music?such as
Donegal-based
Altan?has increased dramati?
cally
in the
past twenty years,
and
pop
bands such as The Corrs now
integrate
elements of traditional music into their
songs.
I observed
teenagers
in Ireland
playing
in
pubs
for crowds of
admiring
tourists
and
peers;
I saw
trendy young
"trad bands"
playing
in
night
clubs;
and scores of Irish musicians were
making
a
living
from their music
Resisting
Fig.
1. Session in full
swing during
an Irish traditional music summer school.
alone.
Slowly,
over the
past thirty years,
Irish traditional music has
become not
only
a source of
pride
for Irish
nationals,
but it has also
become "cool."
This shift can be traced to
many
factors,
including
a
growing
num?
ber of children
learning
traditional music and an
improved
Irish
economy,
which allows for more time and
money
to be
spent
on music
production
and education. In
1999,
the Irish
economy
was
thriving,
driven
by
a
strong technology
sector
(Norton 1999).
Additionally,
the international ballad boom of the 1960s and
1970s,
initiated
by
bands like The
Clancy
Brothers,
and a continued interest in Irish
culture
by
Ireland's vast
diaspora
have
popularized
Irish music com?
mercially. Through
the success of Irish
recording
artists and Irish-
inspired
musicals like Riverdance and Lord
of
the
Dance,
Irish music
and dance have been
internationally
celebrated.
Clearly, multiple
variables have contributed to the revitalization
of Irish traditional music in the
past
half
century, including
Comhaltas's
emphasizing
Irish
nationalism,
teaching young
children,
and
gathering
musicians
together.
Success, however,
has
brought
new
questions
about
authenticity
and
standards,
and new debates about
the role of an
organization
like Comhaltas.
236 Rachel C.
Fleming
Separating
Local and National: The Institutional Structure
of Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann
Comhaltas laid much of the
groundwork
for a successful music revi?
talization movement in a crisis
situation,
and the
organization
con?
tinues to
play
a
large
role in Ireland's traditional music scene. Yet
during my
fieldwork,
critiques
of Comhaltas
permeated
discussions
about the future of Irish traditional music. An
analysis
of Comhaltas's
institutional structure and
ideological
ties shows how its central lead?
ership
has alienated local branch members and musicians. This rift
has led to tensions between the local and national entities of the or?
ganization
and between the
organization
and unaffiliated musicians.
Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann has a hierarchical
organization,
cen?
tered in their
headquarters just
outside of Dublin. It oversees local
branches scattered
throughout
the
country
and abroad. As stated
above,
Comhaltas
today reports
around four hundred branches world?
wide and a
membership
of
roughly thirty-five
thousand.
According
to
promotional
materials,
approximately
70
percent
of the branches
are located in the
thirty-two
counties of
Ireland,
with another 10
per?
cent in
Britain,
and 8
percent
in United States and
Canada,
with the
remaining
number in
Australia,
Italy,
and
Japan.9
A branch is formed when at least five
people
in a
locality apply
to
the central office to establish a branch. The institutional infrastruc?
ture then has three levels.
First,
a
county
board is formed when there
are more than three active branches within that
county.
Each
county
board is made
up
of two
delegates
from the local branches and annu?
ally
elected officers: a
chair,
a
vice-chair,
a
secretary-registrar,
a trea?
surer,
a
public
relations
officer,
and an auditor.
Second,
these branches
are
organized
and
disciplined by
a
provincial
council for each of the
four
provinces
of
Ireland,
consisting
of the same offices as the
county
board
(Vallely
1999:77;
Henry
1989:70).
The
organizing body
of Comhaltas is the Central Executive Coun?
cil
(CEC).
The CEC consists of a
president,
a
general secretary,
five
vice-chairpersons,
a national
treasurer,
a national
registrar,
a
compe?
titions
officer,
a music
officer,
a
public
relations
officer,
two
delegates,
and the
chairpersons
from each
provincial
council. Each
year
the
CEC holds a
congress
that includes members of the
CEC,
two del?
egates
from each local
branch,
and two
delegates
from each
county
Resisting
board.
Together
these members meet
occasionally throughout
the
year
to elect the CEC's
president,
treasurer,
secretary,
and
registrar,
to amend the
constitution,
and to discuss other matters
pertaining
to
the
organization (Vallely
1999:77-78).
The central office and local branches differ most
noticeably
in
terms of their institutional structure.
Although
the CEC is the cen?
tral
body governing
the
organization,
Comhaltas's central office seems
to be
responsible
for
many significant
decisions and is the most vis?
ible manifestation of
leadership.
The central office
employs
the Di?
rector General and other
full-time,
permanent,
and
paid
officials,
and
is involved in national
fundraising, organizing
the Fleadh Cheoil na
hEireann and other music education
activities,
publishing
an official
magazine
called
Treoir,
archiving
music,
and
running
various tourism-
related events. Officers of Comhaltas's
local,
county,
and
provincial
boards and of the
CEC,
in
contrast,
are volunteers and at the
higher
levels are elected. Branches are
responsible
for
organizing
local mu?
sic
sessions, classes,
and fundraisers to
pay
for fleadhs and other ac?
tivities in their localities.
Additionally,
while the central office receives
funding
from the
government,
local branches are not subsidized but
rather
pay
annual insurance and individual
membership
fees to the
central office.
The distinction between local branches and the central office is
embodied
physically
in the
building
that houses the central
office,
which is called the Culturlann na hEireann
("Irish
Cultural
Institute")
and is located in
Monkstown,
a suburb of Dublin. The "Culturlann"
is considered the
public
face of Comhaltas and contains the main
administrative
offices,
meeting
rooms,
a
gift shop,
archives,
and a
concert hall where bussed-in tourist
groups
can attend
performances
and sessions. As
Henry
writes,
Culturlann na hEireann "is a
large
fa?
cility purchased
and remodeled at an
expense
of
approximately
750,000 [Irish
pounds]?money
raised
largely by
[Comhaltas] itself,
together
with a State
grant"
(1989:82).
Some
controversy
surrounds
this
building.
One music teacher remarked:
When I was
coming up
[in
the
1970s],
they
were
building
that Culturlann.
Most of the local Comhaltas branches
spent
their time
running things
to make
money,
to send to Dublin!
They'd
never see the inside of it half
the time! Instead of
running things
to raise
money
to
give
to
kids,
or to
send kids off to a summer school... I wouldn't have been
playing
mu?
sic if it weren't for the local Comhaltas branch. But I would make a
very
238 Rachel C.
Fleming
big
distinction between the local Comhaltas branch and "Head
Office,"
as
they say.
During my
fieldwork,
I found that local Comhaltas branch mem?
bers and unaffiliated musicians felt resentment about the officials at
the "Head Office" because
they
are not elected. In
particular,
the
office of Director General has been held
by
Labhras O Murchu since
1968.
Vallely
writes,
"The
position
of Director General is
permanent
and is not
explained
or rule-bound in
[Comhaltas's]
constitution"
(1999:78).
One musician remarked:
I think
[Comhaltas is]
an
organization
that's a
bottom-up organization
and it should have a democratic structure. ... It should have an elected
head that should rotate after a number of
years.
. . . You can't have an
organization
like that that is dominated
by
a few
personalities.
It should
have rotated.
O Murchu has
many
influential ties in the
government regarding
the
arts. Since 1997 he has served on the Culture and Education Panel of
the Irish Senate and several other committees
involving
cultural is?
sues
(McCann 2002:96).
Musicians have often felt uncomfortable that
so
many public positions regarding
traditional music were
represented
by only
one voice.
While musicians
expressed feelings
of
powerlessness regarding
Comhaltas's
leadership,
the financial situation seems to have fueled
further resentment
among
musicians because
money
does not trickle
down to local branches. The central office receives
funding
in
par?
ticular from Roinn na
Gaeltachta,
the Irish
government's department
devoted to the
preservation
of the Irish
language,
and from the Arts
Council.10
However,
Comhaltas's financial accounts are
only
made
public
to
delegates
at an annual
congress,
and members have re?
ported difficulty
in
finding
out how much
money goes
where,
or who
makes financial decisions. This
apparent
lack of
transparency
has
led to
widespread speculation
about vast sums of
money
at the cen?
tral office
being
diverted into various
projects
with little benefit to
local musicians.
Concerns
regarding leadership
and finances have led some musi?
cians to feel that the central office is
simply
unaware of local musi?
cians' concerns. One
professional
musician
remarked,
"I consider
Comhaltas an
organization
that has done a lot of
good.
But
maybe,
then,
it
got
too
big
. . .
maybe
it's
slightly
out of touch with the music
Resisting
on the
ground."
Other
musicians, however,
feel a real threat from
Comhaltas,
in that
they
are afraid the
organization
has had too much
influence on
funding,
education,
and other
important aspects
of music
production,
without
enough
musician
input.
Said
Shannon,
a flute
teacher,
"I don't know where all the
money's going.
... I
worry
about
where the
money's going.
Because we're not
talking
about
pennies?
we're
talking big money.
But it's not even the
money,
I don't resent
Comhaltas
getting
the
money.
I resent them
getting
the control."
In his
timely
discussion of the Irish Music
Rights Organization
(IMRO) ,n
Anthony
McCann addresses issues of control in music defi?
nition and authentication
by focusing
on the current debate about
music
copyrighting.
IMRO
basically charges public
venues an annual
fee for a blanket license to
play copyrighted
musical
material,
then
distributes
royalties
to its musician members. As McCann
relates,
the
organization
has become
increasingly prominent
in Ireland and seeks
to become
ubiquitous,
but it has
struggled
with the issue of tradi?
tional music.
Firstly,
IMRO has encountered difficulties in
defining
and
identifying
traditional
music,
and
secondly,
social norms
require
that traditional music be shared
freely.
Comhaltas
initially opposed
IMRO activities in
1996,
then dramati?
cally
reversed its
position, alienating
both its own members and tradi?
tional musicians
throughout
Ireland
(McCann 2002:95-103).
In
1996,
Comhaltas as an
organization
voted to
oppose
IMRO's
attempts
to
require
all venues where traditional music was
played, including
Comhaltas-run
events,
to
purchase
annual
copyright
licenses. The
situation
quickly
became a
public
relations
problem
for IMRO offi?
cials,
who were seen as bureaucrats with no
understanding
of tradi?
tional music but with the
power
to
potentially
affect
pub
sessions.
First,
IMRO
proposed charging pub
owners for their
sessions,
thus
endangering many
sessions;
and
second,
copyright
issues could con?
fuse musicians as to which tunes could be
played.
For
many
musi?
cians,
IMRO's
proposals
bordered on the absurd.
In late
1998, however,
Labhras O Murchu worked out a
private
agreement
with IMRO in which Comhaltas would
pay
1,000
Irish
pounds per year
for a
license,
and IMRO would in turn
pay
Comhaltas
50,000
Irish
pounds per year, essentially
for its
support.
Further,
IMRO
agreed
to
give
25,000
pounds per year
to Bru
Boru,
an Irish cultural
tourism center
managed by
O Murchu's wife
(McCann 2002:95-103).
When details of this
agreement
were made
public
in
early
1999,
240 Rachel C.
Fleming
Comhaltas members felt alienated
by
their
leader,
who had acted in
opposition
to their
wishes,
and musicians across the
country
felt alien?
ated
by
Comhaltas's
attempt
to
speak
for all traditional musicians on
the
copyright
issue.
During my
fieldwork,
rumors and misinforma?
tion of all varieties
regarding
IMRO were
circulating.
Further distance between the central office and musicians has been
created
by
Comhaltas's canonical treatment of Irish culture in their
tourist shows. As
reported by Henry,
a tourist show at the Culturlann
included "farm
cottages
amidst
green
hills
painted
on the
backdrop.
. . . An old hand-turned churn was
incorporated
into the
act;
a
young
man danced in
place
as he mimed the butter
churning.
. . . One won?
ders if the
young people
find the
nostalgic staging compelling"
(1989:82-83).
I witnessed a similar
show,
featuring young
musicians in
stereotyped peasant clothing
and a comedian
telling nostalgic,
ruralized
jokes,
at the
opening
concert to the 1999 Fleadh Cheoil.
Many young
musicians who win
competitions
are asked to
perform
in and tour in?
ternationally
with these
types
of
shows,
exposing
them to the
way
Comhaltas is
publicly presenting
Irish culture.
Additionally, many
have felt alienated
by
Comhaltas because of
what
they
see as
publicly
visible associations of traditional music with
particular political
and
religious
views. Comhaltas's initial association
with Irish
Nationalists,
who
object
to British control in Northern Ire?
land,
is
today
reinforced
by
its
promotion
of the Irish
language
and
by
Labhras O
Murchu,
who has
concurrently
held office as a senator
in the nationalistic Fianna Fail
political party (Vallely
1999:78)
and
integrates
nationalistic rhetoric into
speeches
and
publications
(O
Murchu
1998).
Other
highly
visible
actions,
such as the controversial
canceling
of the 1971 Fleadh Cheoil to
protest
the detainment of
nationalists in Northern Ireland
(Vallely
1999:78),
have furthered this
association.
Excerpts
from the
speech given by
O
Murchu,
in his
capacity
as
Director General of
Comhaltas,
at the
opening
concert to the Fleadh
Cheoil na
hEireann,
August
27,1999,
in
Enniscorthy, county
Wexford,
illustrate a
glorification
of
peasant
life
relating
to
political ideology.
In his
speech
O Murchu alludes to
Vinegar
Hill,
just
outside the town
of
Enniscorthy,
which was the site of an
important
battle in
1798,
in
which a
group
of Irish
rebels,
mostly
farmers,
were defeated
by
Brit?
ish forces
(McDowell 1995:245):
Resisting
There was
very
little
pretension
down
through
the centuries where
[Irish]
culture was concerned. It was often
played
in the
very
humble
homes of
Ireland,
on the crossroads and
perhaps
not in the most aus?
picious settings
if one were to
judge by today's
values. But
having
said
that,
there was a
deep understanding always
with our
people,
even in
the midst of
deprivation,
that if we lost that
culture,
if we lost our
language
and lost the music and the
singing
and the
dancing,
and lost
our
games
. . .
nobody
would have
any
control,
and we
certainly
could
have
very
few
goals
because we would not know what our destination
would be.
And I have no doubt in
my
mind that when we celebrate our Irishness
here,
and the
strength
of our talents here this
weekend,
we also
passed
our
thoughts
back to those
people
on
Vinegar
Hill,
who in their
way
could no
longer accept
the
yoke
of
slavery. They
wanted to be free
people,
freedom of
expression,
have their own
sovereignty,
control of their own
destiny.
But also here
tonight
I would like to
say
that we have visitors from
[counties
in Northern
Ireland],
representing
all
politics
on this Island.
Representing
all
religions
on this island. ... I would like to
say
to
them,
you
are
very, very
welcome. You are
among
friends here in
Enniscorthy.
And the most
important thing
of all is that we will realize that our heri?
tage
is
stronger,
richer,
more
powerful,
and more
potent
than
any po?
litical divisions. And that is the
message
that should
go
out from this
Fleadh Cheoil.
This is
truly
a miniscule
expression
of what Ireland should
be,
and
don't ever underestimate this
strength
(transcribed
by
the
author,
Au?
gust
27, 1999).
Comhaltas has also been and is
today
associated with Catholicism
in
highly
visible
ways.
In addition to the
presence
of Catholic
priests
and
blessings
at the
opening
concert of the 1999 Fleadh
Cheoil,
an
official Catholic Mass is held at
every
fleadh.
Also,
the actions of
promi?
nent leaders have
appealed
to a conservative
religious morality.
For
example,
in
response
to the 1983 referendum on abortion in Ire?
land,
controversial articles in the official Comhaltas
publication
Treoir
advocated anti-abortion sentiments
(Vallely
1999:78).
Perceived
po?
litical and
religious
stances contradict the
organization's
constitution,
which states that Comhaltas is
"nonpolitical
and nondenominational."
Such statements also ostracize a
significant
Protestant
population
in
Ireland that
plays
traditional
music,
while
alienating
those who dis?
agree
with this
public portrayal
of Irish traditional music.
242 Rachel C.
Fleming
Revitalization or Standardization? Music
Competition,
Music
Education,
and
Authenticity
While distance between the central office and local branches creates
controversies over
funding
and
portrayals
of Irish traditional
music,
Comhaltas's music
competitions
lie at the heart of
critiques
about
the
organization's
influence on traditional music itself. The
competi?
tions take
place annually
in
county
and
regional
rounds,
culminating
at the Fleadh Cheoil in late
August,
and
they
are
highly
structured.
They
are divided into four
age categories:
under
twelve,
twelve
through
four?
teen,
fifteen
through
seventeen,
and
eighteen
and
over,
or "senior."
They
are
separated by
instrument
(for
example,
fiddle, accordion,
or
flute),
genre
of music
(such
as
reels,
jigs,
slow
airs,
or
hornpipes),
and number of instruments
(such
as
solo, duet,
or
trio).
At the 1999
Fleadh,
148
competitions
in
forty
different
categories
took
place
over two
days,
with an
average
often
participants
in each
(Comhaltas
Ceoltoiri Eireann
1999).
Many
children
compete
in more than one
category;
some have as
many
as
eight competitions
to attend on a
given day.
Informal
competition
has
undoubtedly
been a
part
of music
pro?
duction since humans
began
to make
music,
but
contemporary
for?
mal music
competitions
with
judges
and
prizes
are
markedly
different.
In the world of classical
music,
winning
a well-known
competition
is
nearly
a
requirement
for
aspiring professionals. Competitions
in folk
music and dance are less institutionalized but have flourished at reviv?
alist festivals in recent
years,
most often in
conjunction
with ethnic or
nationalist movements. For
example, competitions
in American fiddle
music,
Norwegian fiddling,
Native American
powwow dancing,
and
Scottish traditional music and dance have all
sprung up
in the
past fifty
years
and have added
great
momentum to their
respective
cultural
movements
(Goertzen 1996, 1997;
McKean
1998;
Parfit
1994).
In a broad
sense,
competition
in music has two effects.
First,
com?
petitions
set standards for
performance
because
they
are
judged by
certain criteria. An ideal
theoretically
exists,
toward which
competi?
tors should strive and
against
which
judges
should
objectively
com?
pare performances.
Second,
competitions
create social tension
among
musicians
competing
for
recognition.
Classical music
competitions
(while
clearly incorporating many
other social
elements)
provide
an
illustration of both
phenomena.
Resisting
Fig.
2.
(top)
Street session
during
the 1999 All-Ireland Fleadh
Cheoil,
Enniscorthy, county
Wexford.
Fig.
3.
(above)
Oisin Mac
Diarmada,
winner of the 1999 Senior All-Ireland Fleadh Cheoil
fiddle
competition,
shown here
during
the
competition,
Enniscorthy, county
Wexford.
To
highlight
the differences between a session and a
competition
involving
Irish traditional
music,
I will
briefly
relate
my experience
of
seeing
both occur in one afternoon at the 1999 Fleadh Cheoil.
First,
I
joined
some
teenaged
musicians
gathered
in the street for a
sponta?
neous session. The musicians sat on crates and chairs borrowed from
a
nearby pub
and faced each other in a
rough
circle,
with a crowd
244 Rachel C.
Fleming
standing
around them. The musicians were
meeting
each
other,
play?
ing spontaneous
sets of traditional
tunes,
and
joking
around. There
was an element of
performance
due to a crowd of onlookers and
some informal
competition
as newcomers' abilities were
assessed,
but
for the most
part
the
atmosphere
was relaxed.
In
contrast,
the senior fiddle
competition
was much more
perfor?
mance
oriented,
similar to a formal music concert. At least a hun?
dred
people?parents, spectators,
and
competitors?were
seated or
stood
facing
the
stage
in the small theater of a local school. At the
front of the
room,
two
judges
sat at a table and a lone chair stood on
the
stage.
The
judge
called the names of
competitors
one
by
one.
The room was
completely
silent while the
competitors played
their
tunes and each mistake could be heard
clearly.
The
judges silently
made notes and then announced the winners
immediately
after the
competition.
For the most
part,
the
competitors appeared
nervous
and were relieved when
they
were finished.
Several valid
arguments
can be made in
support
of
competitions.
The
revitalizing
effects of the
early competitions
on traditional music
in Ireland are still relevant
today.
For
example, competitions provide
a formal reason for musicians to
gather informally,
as seen in the
session described above.
Also,
Comhaltas branch activities?includ?
ing preparing
children for
competition
or even
hosting
a fleadh?
cause local adults to become involved in
promoting
traditional mu?
sic.
Additionally, competitions
aid in
teaching
music as
they provide
a structured
learning
environment for children and motivate
young
musicians to
practice. Competitions provide
a social occasion for chil?
dren to
play
music
informally
with
peers
on the fleadh weekend and
in
preparation
for
competition, providing
a music venue for children
that
pub
sessions do not
necessarily provide.
Also,
winning
is
positive
reinforcement.
Winning
an All-Ireland
championship
carries
great
prestige
in Ireland and abroad and can
help
launch a
professional
music career.
Despite
the value of music
competitions,
however,
several musi?
cians
expressed
concern about the
logical
contradictions of
imposing
rigid
standards on a creative art. The most obvious source of tension
is that Irish traditional music is based on
diverse,
individual
interpre?
tations of
melodies,
while
objective judgment
relies on
constant,
clearly
defined standards.
Adjudicators
in Comhaltas's
competitions judge
each
competitor using
a scale of one
hundred,
within which there
Resisting
are a
suggested possible
number of
points
or "marks" awarded for
certain musical
criteria,
a
system geared
toward
objectivity.12
How?
ever,
adjudicators,
as
musicians,
may prefer
certain
styles
or tunes
with which
they
are familiar. Said one
adjudicator,
"I like older
tunes,
more traditional. If I was
growing up
now,
I'd
probably
love the tunes
that are
played
now because that would be
my
tradition,
but
they
sound
strange
to me."
The
possibility
of
adjudicator
bias is not lost
upon competi?
tors: said one
fifteen-year-old girl,
"This one
adjudicator
likes 'old-
fashioned
tunes,'
so
my
brother
picks
those kind of tunes for her and
he
always
wins." The
way judges
are chosen reinforces fears about
competitions selecting
certain
styles
of music over
others,
whether
this
actually
occurs or not. Musicians do not
apply
to be
judges,
but
are invited to
judge competitions by
a music committee overseen
by
the central office. The music committee consists of
approximately
fifteen
internally nominated?though rotating?musicians,
accord?
ing
to criteria that are not made
public.
In addition to concerns about
adjudicator objectivity,
Comhaltas's
competitions
also
require
certain
types
of
tunes,
such as reels and
jigs,
but do not allow
competitors
to
play
more obscure tune
types
found in
specific regions.13 Many thought
this
practice
could endan?
ger unique regional styles.
One musician even described a so-called
"Comhaltas
style":
"It's
bland,
mechanical?because
they
all come
out of the same machine as a result of
competition."
Since musicians
have different teachers and
personalities
it is
virtually impossible
for
any
two musicians to have
exactly
the same
style.
Yet the
perception
of
a "Comhaltas
style"
reveals fears that
competitions
are
threatening
musical
diversity.
In the context of
anxiety
about the
global
commer?
cialization of Irish traditional
music,
these concerns
begin
to make
more sense.
Other musicians feel that commercial
recordings
and
competi?
tions
encourage
a
flashy, performance-oriented style
that favors cer?
tain
regions, creating
the
potential
for a "national
style."
In his
study
of American fiddle
contests,
Chris Goertzen
recognizes
that there is
a basic tension between
"nationally
distributed,
virtuosic
performance
styles
of
relatively
recent
vintage
and a
relatively
modern
approach"
and "a more old-fashioned
approach"
(1996:353).
He found that
national
styles
tended to dominate in the
competitions
he studied.
To
preserve
local
styles, many
contests included
separate categories
246 Rachel C.
Fleming
for older
style
music,
in which local bands often won over non-local
(374),
thereby protecting
local
styles
to some
degree.
In
making sepa?
rate
categories,
however,
the
style
of each
category
was enforced
by
specific
rules,
so
they actually
became more
sharply
defined and
sepa?
rated from each other
(377).
Along
with concerns about
stylistic change,
Irish musicians are
concerned that
expressions
of tradition become
fragmented
and
impoverished
in
competition. Competitions
divide instrumental music
into
categories by
instrument and also
separate
music from
singing,
storytelling, and?perhaps
most
significantly?dancing,
which much
of Irish music was created to
accompany.
Patrick,
a fiddle
teacher,
insisted that in order to understand authentic Irish
"tradition,"
a mu?
sician must know about related
aspects
of culture and social life as
well. He
explained:
Tradition is a full
package,
it involves
language,
music, dance,
the
lore,
the
literature,
all that
together
to
get
a full
understanding
of it. ... I think
that
people
that are
teaching
music are
looking
at that
very seriously, you
know?. . . Rather than
just teaching
notes,
they're beginning
to
bring
in
the folklore side and all the rest of
it,
and the
history
side too.
Social life in Ireland has
changed
since the time of the house
dance,
as Patrick later
acknowledged,
so
disparate
elements of "tradition"
must now be
consciously
connected at least
partly through
formal
music education.
Competitions,
commercial
recordings,
and the de?
liberate maintenance of
regional styles
facilitated
by
formalized teach?
ing
methods seem to have resulted in more musicians
learning
music
as a
performance
art,
with less
emphasis
on music as a social
activity.
Mary,
a concertina
teacher,
was afraid that
formalizing
the social con?
text of music education further could affect the music itself. She
said,
"I think the infrastructure
by
which
[music]
is handed
on,
and in
which to
play
it,
is reflected in the
way
the music is
played.
. . . And I
think we have to be
very
careful not to direct
something
that is al?
ready working very
well. . . .
Why
formalize
something
if
you
don't
have to formalize it?"
Musicians
learning
Irish traditional music in a
particular region
may
base their
style upon
that of a
mentor,
but their
style
will also be
influenced
through
interactions with other musicians. These influ?
ences can be both
personal,
such as
playing
in
sessions, or,
with the
advent of recorded
music,
non-personal.
In
addition,
Irish musicians
Resisting
are
expected
to
improvise
and
experiment
with
playing
a
given
tune
slightly differently
in each
repetition. Although
each student learn?
ing
to
play
Irish traditional music learns from a combination of sources
and
develops
an individual
creativity, passing
music from
person
to
person
does
perpetuate
certain standards for
playing.14
However,
learning
Irish traditional music is not
yet
institutional?
ized,
in that certain standards do not define a musician's abilities. Clas?
sical
music,
for
example,
is
taught
in Irish schools
using
a
graded sys?
tem,
in which students must
pass
an examination to be allowed on to
the next
grade
or to learn at the next level of musical
ability.
Thomas,
a
professional
tin-whistle
player,
notes that
graded
music education
and the
performance style
in classical music are more institutionalized
than in traditional music. He
said, "[Irish
traditional
music]
is unlike
classical music where there's much more consensus on the defined
ways
and it's much more institutionalized due to this kind of music
school education. Irish music has
anarchy running through
it."
There are several different venues where children learn Irish tra?
ditional music
today, including private
lessons,
group
classes,
infor?
mal sessions at houses or
pubs,
and sessions run
by
Comhaltas,
in
addition to
learning
from
recordings.
Now that sessions are
mainly
played
in
pubs,
and sessions can be
something
of a
performance
for
an
audience,
young
children are often not
accepted
at
pub
sessions.
Some
musicians, however,
fear that some of the Comhaltas-run ses?
sions that do allow children to
play
are too
rigidly
structured for
young
musicians. From
many
accounts,
Comhaltas sessions often feature an
adult musician
asking
each child to
play
one
tune,
each in
turn,
un?
like a
pub
session where musicians
play many
tunes in succession in
no
particular
order.
Noreen,
a
fifteen-year-old
accordion
player,
felt that "Comhaltas
sessions are
very straight-laced. Everyone goes
in a circle and
plays
their tunes and
they
all sound the same."
Many
have remarked that
group
lessons also make
everyone
sound the
same,
a
phenomenon
certainly
not restricted to Comhaltas-run lessons. Another
young
whistle
player complained,
"Comhaltas sessions are
very uptight."
Ann,
the mother of two
young
musicians,
perhaps expresses
most coher?
ently
the overall sentiment I
found,
in
saying
that
competitions
and
Comhaltas are
good
to a
point.
She
explained,
"There's nowhere for
kids to
play
if the
parents
don't
play,
but
you
have to
get
them out
before it's too late. It's
good
for
starting,
but there comes a
point
248 Rachel C.
Fleming
when those sessions aren't
interesting, they
must
get
to the 'real mu?
sic' in sessions at
pubs."
Although
most of the musicians I
spoke
with felt that Comhaltas
did not have the
power
to
completely
standardize the
music,
real con?
cern surrounded the
way
children have been
exposed
to music
through
the
organization.
For
example,
Comhaltas has
recently
es?
tablished a
system
of examinations for traditional music students to
assess levels of
competence
and a
program
to
certify
music teachers
(Royal
Irish
Academy
of Music
1999;
2002c, 2002e). Further,
Comhaltas has
recently published
two ses?
sion tune books that each contain "220 standard traditional tunes
arranged
in 74 sets as
played
at the
Tuesday
and
Wednesday night
sessions in the Culturlann in Monkstown"
(2002d).
While some sets
of tunes are
conventionally played together?often
in
homage
to a
set made famous
by
a certain musician?there are no rules
govern?
ing
which tunes can be
played together
(aside
from
keeping
the
types
of tunes
consistent),
and musicians
constantly
come
up
with
new,
cre?
ative
"settings"
for tunes. And while there are
certainly
other tune
books that influence
musicians,
because of Comhaltas's clout with
beginners,
these books have the
potential
to institutionalize a certain
repertoire
and
specific
tune versions and
settings.
When asked about the worst-case
scenario,
one teacher
said,
"Basi?
cally
that
[Comhaltas]
would take control of traditional music. Over
how it's
taught,
over how it's
funded,
over how it's
played,
dictate how
it should be
played."
Below I will evaluate the above concerns and out?
line
how,
through public dialogue, they
vitalize musical debates.
Evaluation of
Critiques:
Comhaltas as a
Catalyst
for Rebellion and Musical
Diversity
The above discussion
may suggest
that Irish traditional music is in dan?
ger
of
being
standardized.
However,
the
way
local
branches,
competi?
tions,
and Comhaltas's
political
and financial activities
actually
work
appears
to
discourage
both musical standardization and
monopoliza?
tion of control over music-related activities. For
example,
local branches
appear
to be most successful when there is
significant
involvement
by
local musicians. The director of a rural branch remarked that branches
run
by
more
politically
motivated non-musicians
generally
do not sur?
vive. He
said,
"If
you
have officers who are neither musicians nor danc-
Resisting
ers,
it's
probably very
hard for them to hold interest. And the branch
dies.. ..
[W]e
call
them'paper
branches' . ..
only
down on
paper.
"Also,
local branches are
financially independent
and
voluntary,
which means
that
they
are
relatively
autonomous from the central office and do not
have to
comply
with its
ideological
constraints.
While
competitions
do
present
dilemmas about music
change, they
are also
providing
an effective
system
for music education and inno?
vation. At the same
time,
even
though
thousands of children
compete
each
year, dwindling
numbers in
competitions
for older
age catego?
ries indicate that
many
children
stop competing
in their
early
teens.
Several musicians I
spoke
with confirmed this
trend;
as one musician
said,
"I started to rebel around fifteen or sixteen ... it was uncool to
go
into
competitions
after
eighteen."
This
phenomenon
can be
attributed to
many
factors,
including negative experiences
with
competition,
Comhaltas's association with
young
children,
its "old-
fashioned"
image among young
musicians,
and basic
teenage
rebellion.
Young
musicians who
stop competing
often
drop
music
altogether,
but
many join
sessions with their
peers, suggesting
that there are al?
ternative and
probably preferable
musical venues available to
young
musicians in Irish
society.
The
competition system
seems to be
pro?
viding
a forum for
learning
music,
socializing through
music, and,
ultimately,
rebellion and a rite of
passage
into an adult musical world.
Many
musicians feel that a
single organization
like
Comhaltas,
even if it were more flexible and
inclusive,
could not address all the
issues that are
important
for Irish musicians
today.
In
fact,
there is a
proliferation
of other Irish traditional music
organizations
in Ireland
and
abroad,
including
(but
not limited
to)
music
schools, archives,
record
labels,
radio
stations,
publications,
and various
clubs,
associa?
tions,
and even online communities of musicians. In
addition,
a num?
ber of recent academic conferences not affiliated with Comhaltas have
specifically
addressed current issues in traditional music.15
Public
opposition
to Comhaltas
appears
to have some
power,
as
seen in a recent incident. In
1998,
the Irish Arts Council asked
Comhaltas's director to
prepare
a
report
on the "State of Irish Tradi?
tional
Music,"
largely
to
help
the council determine the distribution
of
government
funds for the arts
(O
Murchu
1998).
The
public
re?
lease of this
report
set off a heated debate in The Irish Times
(Carolan
1999a, 1999b;
Cranich
1999;
MacAmhlaoibh
1999;
Moroney
1999;
Moulden
1999;
Moylan
1999;
Munnelly
1999;
Ni Shuilleabhain
1999;
250 Rachel C.
Fleming
O
Cuinneagain
1999;
6 Murchu
1999a, 1999b, 1999c, 1999d;
Vallely
1999a, 1999b),
as
many
felt
(among
other
sentiments)
that it focused
too much on Comhaltas and not
enough
on other
organizations
or
issues musicians feel are
important.
The council rescinded the re?
port
for further
review,
and some of the committee members later
apologized (Moroney
1999).
Many
of these alternative forums for music and debate have formed
on some level in
response
to Comhaltas's narrowed treatment of music
and Irish culture. For
example,
several
popular
summer music schools
have
sprung up
in the
past twenty years.
The school I attended
was,
as
one of its administrators
emphasized, specifically "anti-competition"
and seems to have been formed in
many ways
as a direct
critique
of
and alternative to Comhaltas's
competition system. Unintentionally,
Comhaltas has
helped
create circumstances in which musicians can
express
fears about the future of the
music,
debate the role of music
in Irish
society,
and
ultimately
establish alternative forums for
music,
all of which contribute to the
vitality
of Irish traditional music.
Conclusion: Toward an
Understanding
of
Authenticity
The successful revitalization and continued
diversity
of Irish tradi?
tional music seems to be the result of an effective
sponsorship strategy
as well as the
particular
factors
present
in this case.
First,
the medium
of traditional music is somewhat resistant to standards because it is
not
dependent upon
an institutional
system
and can
happen
infor?
mally
in
virtually any
location.
Also,
the form of Irish traditional
music
requires
innovation on basic
melodies,
so it tends toward di?
versity. Secondly,
Comhaltas's local activities had and still have
local,
grassroots support,
so diverse
viewpoints
and music
styles
have been
present
since the
organization's founding.
This
support
is
currently
encouraged by locally
based distrust and resentment of the central
office.
Finally,
Comhaltas's central office does not have coercive
power,
as
people
can
opt
out of its
systems
and
publicly oppose
its
activities.
Perhaps
because of this
flexibility,
Comhaltas's institutions
and activities
provide
musicians with a valuable framework for edu?
cation, rebellion, debate,
and
critique.
In her discussion of
authenticity
in Irish traditional
music,
Mary
Traschel notes the tension between those who look to attributes of
the music itself to define
authenticity
and those who see
authenticity
Resisting
instead in the
process
of
passing
on,
performing,
and
reinterpreting
the music
(1995:44-45).
Traschel
quotes
musician and academic
Micheal O
Sulleabhain,
who
writes,
"The
process
of
reworking
is the
important thing.
... It is the evolution of such a
process
that makes
new music out of old"
(1982:915).
Traschel then
notes,
"Within this
reworking process,
O Sulleabhain
emphasizes
the
epistemic
function
of music?its
capacity
for
discovery?as
it
transforms
rather than
merely
translates the
experience
of
being
Irish"
(1995:45). If,
as Traschel
suggests, authenticity
is found in "historical
process,"
as old material
is
reinterpreted
for
performance
and social
communication,
debates
and controversies about Irish traditional music
actually help
authenti?
cate that music. And as music
plays
an active role in
determining
its
own
authenticity,
so Comhaltas has transformed the
process
of rein?
terpreting
and
authenticating
Irish traditional music.
Both the Irish
government
and local musicians have a vested inter?
est in Irish traditional
music;
the state seeks to create an "Irish" iden?
tity,
while local musicians seek to
keep
their music
distinct, diverse,
and vital. This tension is
part
of the nationalization
process
itself and
feeds into
struggles
over
identity.
If,
as
Anthony
Smith
suggests,
an
"authentic" national
identity
is
unique
and also self-determined
(2001:29),
who determines
authenticity,
the state or local citizens? How do
people
interpret
cultural
symbols
that have
multiple meanings?
Does it matter
what
types
of
systems
are used to
promote particular
visions? Fredrik
Barth asserts that
people
are
constantly redefining
or
emphasizing
cer?
tain
aspects
of their
identity depending
on the circumstances. This
type
of
negotiation process
occurs in folk music
revivals,
as
people
work
out how to
interpret
old material in new
ways
that are relevant to
their current situations. These tensions exist because
people
care
about the music and are
perhaps
where the
vitality,
and so authentic?
ity,
of folk music is found.
University of
North Carolina
Chapel
Hill
Notes
An earlier version
of
this
paper
was
presented
at the 2003 annual
meeting of
the North?
eastern
Anthropological
Association in
Burlington,
Vermont. I would like to thank
my
consultants in Ireland
for
their
generosity,
time,
and
energy.
Also,
many
thanks to the
anonymous
reviewers,
to the
Journal
of Folklore Research
staff for
their meticulous
copyediting,
to Kirk
Endicott,
Paul
Kockelman,
Ted
Levin,
fohn
Watanabe,
and Robert
252 Rachel C.
Fleming
Welschfor
their
help
in
improving
this
article,
and to Brian R O
'Connor,
feanie
Puleston
Fleming,
and Bill
Fleming for
their
support
and
encouragement.
This
project
was made
possible by
a
grant from
the Claire Garber Goodman Fund
for
the
Anthropological Study
of
Human
Culture,
administered
by
the
Department of Anthropology,
Dartmouth
College.
1. In this
essay,
the terms "folk music" and "traditional music" are used inter?
changeably.
However,
some of
my
consultants in Ireland felt that the term "folk
music" is
derogatory
and
preferred
to use the term "traditional music." There?
fore,
I use "traditional music" when
referring
to this
type
of music in Ireland.
2.
Membership
and branch data were obtained
by personal
communication
with Brian Prior of the Comahltas Ceoltoiri Eireann central
office,
December
9,
2003. In his 1989
article,
Henry
also
reported
that Comhaltas consisted of "some
400 branches"
(71).
Comhaltas continues to claim 400 branches on its website
(http://www.comhaltas.com/about/index.htm),
and this
figure
is also cited in McCann
(2002:95). Additionally, Henry
recorded a
membership
of
"roughly
35,000"
(1989:69),
while a recent article in the New York Times cites a
membership
of
30,000
(Lavery
2002:B2).
Mr. Prior attributed the lack of more accurate
figures
to a
shortage
of financial resources for record
keeping
at the central office.
Without
up-to-date
data,
it is
very
difficult to estimate whether
membership
has
increased or decreased since 1989.
3. I
spent
most of
my
fieldwork time in the western
region
of
Ireland,
with short
trips
to Dublin and the southeast
region.
I attended informal
sessions,
Comhaltas-
run
sessions,
music
competitions
at
county
and
regional
fleadhs,
and the 1999 Fleadh
Cheoil na hEireann and the associated music school in
Enniscorthy, county
Wexford.
In
addition,
I attended a
week-long
summer music school that is not affiliated with
Comhaltas. At the various festivals and music
schools,
I met musicians from all over
Ireland and abroad. I conducted informal and recorded interviews with
twenty-
four different
people
and
spent
time with
many
more. Those whose comments are
used in the
longer
version of this
study
are as follows
(please
note that some
people
overlap
into more than one
category):
Participants
Male Female
Musicians
and/or
music teachers over
age sixty
6 2
Musicians
and/or
music teachers
age thirty
to late fifties 10 6
Musicians in their late teens and twenties 3 4
Musicians under
age
sixteen 2 3
Comaltas officials in local branches 7 4
Comhaltas officials at the central office 3 0
Comhaltas
competition adjudicators
(former
and
current)
8 2
Professional
performing
musicians
and/or
music teachers 9 7
4.
Language
revivals are
frequently
at the heart of nationalistic or ethnic
movements. As in Ireland and
Basque Spain
(O
Baoill
1988;
Urla
1993),
these
languages
can be standardized
through
their
incorporation
into an educational
system, thereby reducing
the
diversity
of dialects and
imposing
a "correct"
way
of
speaking.
5. The
harp,
known in its earliest incarnation in ancient
Mesopotamia,
was
evidently
well-established in Ireland
by
the eleventh
century (Vallely
1999:170).
Resisting
The instrument is
symbolic
of the time when Celtic
kings employed filidh, pow?
erful oral historians
accompanied by
the
harp,
and of the
subsequent patron?
age system
for
traveling
bards who also used the
harp
(Trachsel 1995:28-29).
Compositions by seventeenth-century
bard
Turlough
O'Carolan are still com?
monly played.
6. I have altered
my
consultants' names and the instruments
they play,
and
occasionally
I have
changed
their
gender,
while
trying
to remain true to their
social contexts
(as
a
professional
musician,
a Comhaltas
official,
a
young
musi?
cian, etc.),
so the reader
may
evaluate the comments
accurately.
7.
By
contrast,
in the 1940s and 1950s traditional Irish music was
actually
flourishing
in London and in several American cities that had
significant
Irish
populations. Many prominent
Irish musicians
emigrated
from Ireland at this
time,
taking
their music with
them;
some have since moved back to Ireland.
8. For a brief
history
of Comhaltas's
founding, please
see the
organization's
website
(http://www.comhaltas.com/about/index.htm)
and
Vallely
1999:78-79.
9. Branches that are not located in
Ireland,
such as the Michael Coleman
Branch in New York
City,
differ from those in Ireland in
many ways, including
the fact that
they represent
one cultural
population among many
others and
are
largely
removed from the
political
climate of Ireland.
Although
the Irish-
American
population,
for
example,
tends to
participate
in
many
"Irish" activities?
prompting
one Comhaltas officer in Ireland to
say proudly
"Our
immigrants
are more Irish than the
people
at home!"?traditional music and
membership
in
Comhaltas branches in America are not limited to those of Irish
heritage.
Chil?
dren
learning
music
(and
their
parents)
in the New York
City
Comhaltas
branch,
for
example,
do not
necessarily identify
with an Irish
heritage.
This is a
topic
for
another
study,
and I will
only say
here that the
great majority
of the members in
Comhaltas branches in Ireland are
Irish,
whereas Irish
immigrants
make
up
only part
of the
membership
in branches located in other countries.
10.
Henry
(1989:74)
records from Treoir
(16/2:1)
that the 1984 annual
orga?
nization
grant
from Roinn na Gaeltachta was
110,000
Irish
pounds,
the enter?
tainment
grant
from the Arts Council was
59,000
Irish
pounds,
and member?
ship
fees forwarded to the central office totaled
22,000
Irish
pounds
(1
Irish
pound
was
equal
to
US$1.10
in
1984).
Unfortunately,
I was unable to
acquire
current financial information from Comhaltas.
Although
it would be interest?
ing
to know
today's
exact
figures,
I would
argue
that
perceptions
about
funding
are more relevant to this discussion.
11. IMRO's website describes the
organization
as follows:
IMRO is a national
organisation
that administers the
performing right
in
copy?
right
music in Ireland on behalf of its
members?songwriters, composers
and
music
publishers?and
on behalf of the members of the international overseas
societies that are affiliated to it. IMRO's function is to collect and distribute
royalties arising
from the
public performance
of
copyright
works. IMRO is a
not-for-profit organisation.
Music users such as
broadcasters,
venues and busi?
nesses must
pay
for their use of
copyright
music
by way
of a blanket license fee.
IMRO collects these monies and distributes them to the
copyright
owners in?
volved. The monies earned
by copyright
owners in this
way
are known as
public
performance royalties.
IMRO is also
prominently
involved in the
sponsorship
254 Rachel C.
Fleming
and
promotion
of music in Ireland.
Every year
it
sponsors
a
large
number of
song
contests,
music
festivals, seminars,
workshops,
research
projects
and show?
case
performances.
Indeed,
IMRO is now
synonymous
with
helping
to show?
case
emerging
talent in Ireland,
(http://www.imro.ie/about/what_we_do.shtml)
Additionally,
McCann
points
out that traditional musicians are
normally pleased
when other
people play
their
compositions
in
sessions?often,
the
composer
is
acknowledged
in the tune's name?and
perhaps
even more
pleased
when
they
are not
acknowledged
at all. He
writes,
"The attitude of
Maighread
Ni
Mhaonaigh,
fiddler with successful music
group
Altan
[sic],
is
typical:
'The best
thing
is to
compose
tunes and not have
people recognise
them as
newly composed,
that
they slip
back into the tradition. For me that's the
biggest
thrill of all'"
(2002:81).
12. The fiddle-solo
adjudication
sheet's
"Suggested Marking
Guidelines" are
as follows:
"style
and ornamentation?50
marks;
command of instrument?20
marks;
rhythm
and
phrasing?10
marks;
time
[tempo]?10
marks;
tone and
tuning?10
marks." The concert-flute and whistle sheets differ
slightly, giving
tone 15 marks and command of instrument 15 marks. The
adjudication
sheet
for
duets,
trios and ceili
(ensemble dance)
bands reads:
"style
and ornamenta?
tion?35
marks;
balance and blend?20
marks;
rhythm
and
phrasing?15
marks;
time?10
marks;
arrangement?10
marks;
presentation?10
marks." There are
slight
variations for other instruments and for
singing competitions.
13. An anecdote related to me about accordion
player Jackie Daly
illustrates
this
point nicely (please
note that I have not confirmed this
story
with
Daly
himself). Daly
was born in
county
Cork and raised in the musical traditions of
the
Irish-speaking region
called Sliabh
Luachra,
which is known for
polkas
and
slides rather than
jigs
and reels.
According
to
my
source,
he
played polkas
and
slides one
year
at the All-Ireland Fleadh and
lost,
then
played jigs
and reels the
next
year
and won the senior
championship
(I
assume this refers to his 1977
win).
The
year
after,
he
reportedly
came back and
played polkas
and slides
again.
Though
he did not
win,
according
to the
storyteller people paid
much more
attention to him that
year
and he was not
just
dismissed for
playing
the
wrong
types
of tunes.
Jigs
and reels tend to be associated with the western counties of
Ireland,
whereas other
regions
are associated with other tune
types,
such as
highlands
and barn dances in
county Donegal.
14. It should be
emphasized
that Irish traditional music has been
constantly
changing throughout
its
history,
and that there is much
contemporary disagree?
ment about what it constitutes. In his article "Irish Music Defined"
(1982),
Micheal O Suilleabhain
compares
music to
language
in that it is influenced
by
economic and social
change, noting
that music is a more
fragile system
than
language,
often with a shorter
"life-span"
(915).
One musician I interviewed
agreed, saying:
"[Irish]
Culture is what's here
[in Ireland].
So it's
continually
changing.
Culture is the houses and the
lifestyle
and the
people
and the cars
and the
living
and the TV and the radio and
pop
music,
bad
country,
and Irish
music,
traditional
music,
everything.
Whatever
happens
on the island is Irish
culture and that's it."
15. The conference "Whose Music? Cultural Traditions in Northern Ireland" took
place
in 1989
(Crozier 1989).
Comhaltas
representatives
did not attend this confer?
ence,
causing speculation
about Comhaltas's
political
stance. The Crossroads Con-
Resisting
ference,
first held in
1996,
took on issues of tradition and
change,
music in North?
ern
Ireland,
and modern
challenges
such as
copyright
law and commercialization.
Please see McCann
(2002:70-73)
for a discussion of
copyright
issues at this confer?
ence. The second Crossroads Conference took
place
in
April,
2003 and focused
on music
education,
addressing
Comhaltas-related issues such as "fleadh cheoil
standards," "examination,"
and
"grades" (http://homepage, eircom.net/~theflute/).
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Besisling CuIluvaI Slandavdizalion ConIaIlas CeoIliv iveann and lIe BevilaIizalion oJ

TvadilionaI Music in IveIand

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