MUSIC REVIEW: City Of Derry Jazz And Big Band Festival 2015

Reviews of two events at this year's jazz extravaganza in the former City Of Culture

DANA MASTERS, MILLENNIUM FORUM, MAY 3 2015

When South Carolina-born, Lisburn-based songstress Dana Masters first emerged on stage, we already sense we're in for an evening as cheery, warm and welcoming as the smile on her face.

That is most definitely the case at Derry-Londonderry's Millennium Forum, briefly transformed into an electrically soulful and eclectically jazzy arena by Masters' spine-tingling, spirit-lifting vocals. Assisted by top notch NI trumpeter Linley Hamilton, a committed ensemble of keys, guitar, brass and rhythm, and a series of humorous interludes, this is a powerful and passionate display of musical virtuosity.

The evening is a positive vocal workout for the central performer, her early elegance paving the way for a confident thunderousness that, by concert's end, ensures that feet are stamping, hands are clapping and heads are nodding.

To pardon the pun, this Dana really is all kinds of everything.

JAMIE CULLUM, MILLENNIUM FORUM, MAY 4 2015

Jamie Cullum and Derry-Londonderry have a special relationship. Jamming with a school choir and filming a radio documentary in these parts had previously endeared the versatile jazz-pop musician to the locals. Now Cullum returns for his first ever live show in Derry-Londonderry.

It begins with one-time Cullum collaborators the St. Mary's College choir asserting themselves triumphantly with a literal cabaret of pop, opera and show tunes.

Then, the pint-sized Rochford dynamo delectably transcends the "piano man" image, his confidence spreading to both his backing band and the audience themselves. It is hard to imagine a performer more in sync with the City Of Derry Jazz And Big Band Festival in its recent history. Cullum's anecdotes, in-crowd solos and general charisma go down a treat, as do his seamless, nimble switching between tempos, genres, instruments and performing styles. He is equally at home as a pianist, drummer, singer or human beatbox.

This is a performance for the ages. Let's hope it's not too long before Cullum once again adorns this cultured city with his presence.

(The original versions of these reviews were published in the North West edition of the Belfast Telegraph on May 4-5, 2015.) Read more...

FESTIVAL IN RETROSPECT: Stendhal 2014

Si's Sights And Sounds wraps up 2014 with a look at this year's extravaganza at Ballymully Cottage Farm

It is written that Stendhal Syndrome is an illness, a psychosomatic state that causes rapid heartbeat, dizziness, fainting, confusion and even hallucinations when an individual is exposed to a particularly beautiful cornucopia of art in one place at any one time. Such is the advertised experience at the Stendhal Festival of Art, which brings Ballymully Cottage Farm, on the outskirts of Limavady, to life each summer in its own unique, all encompassing and above all artistic manner.

Being the home of Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling before we even arrive at the Main Stage, or at least the steady, folky, easy-going rock of Pitcher Of The Moon is. Becca Allen's determined, driven vocals counter the big back cloud that hovers over the tent and point to something sunnier in the distance and throughout the rest of the day. Meanwhile, Bobbie Harvey and her band gently ease the soul with a lilting, jazzy beat, matching the tone and feel if not the sound of a young Joni Mitchell.

Passionate, yet predictable, the Snow Patrol-esque In An Instant have a sound worthy of grabbing any crowd, but their set gains only a limited attendance. Some other time for them, perhaps? Elsewhere, the drifty, hangdog Malojian, highly praised by Gary Lightbody, Lauren Laverne and Stuart Bailie, doesn't yet stand out as anything special, but his sweet, homely and sometimes catchy melodies are definitely pleasant to the ears.

Time for two doses of reliability. It so appears that PØRTS' leading man, Steven McCool, misses the name Little Bear so much that he's brought along a t-shirt with a bear on it. And changed the lyrics of I'd Let You Win to "I'll let you in... my cardigan". It's that time of night, so let there be that type of humour. Back at the Main Stage, Bronagh Gallagher (above) and her smoothly soulful rock are a communal medicine for the night, entrancing in the midst of misty lights and a chanting crowd. If PØRTS feel experimental, Gallagher feels wholly at home, each artist unifying and heartwarming their watchers.

Then along come The Thundertones. At least that's what everyone's favourite Perfect Cousins and Teenage Kickers (even today) try to be, with their material retaining the same punky, powerful thrust it has always had. When one isn't watching Paul McLoone play with his microphone stand and jump, one is jumping to the beat. Alas, they can't maintain such a pace, and The Thundertones teeter dangerously close to Going Undertones. Fortunately the set ends before that happens.

There are no big black clouds on Stendhal's second day, just a lovely sunset and the dulcet, delicate tones of Lisa O'Neill. Draperstown's Gemma Bradley performs in the woods, her piercing vocals and steely gaze defy her slight, fragile frame and create a promising presence. It's quite a contrast to the friendly gospel folk of The Henry Girls, which spreads over the farm like a warm blanket.

By now, the rain is falling, but that doesn't prevent the atmosphere of a Jazz Festival and the light of Lumiere (well, something like that anyway) teeing up for a unique ambience at the Keady Corner. If only more were dancing to Duke Special's Gramophone Set, and his blend of Ritz and Andrews Sisters.

Never mind, for the highlight of the whole weekend is just around the corner - the cheery, chirpy warm up of the wondrous Wonder Villains. Packed with youthful punk pop and retro grunge, and a fine leading lady to boot, they stagger the eyes and delight the ears with their spirited, spunky synchronicity, sparking both young and old into life. They are, in a word, awesome here - one hopes they can maintain this standard. To quote a certain Yasmin Evans, the only way is up.

Pleasurably paced reliability is key for Paddy Casey. Like his namesake Paul, and the Jive Aces, his set goes down a treat. Particularly when he performs "I Wanna Be Like You"; how can you not win with that song? In closing, headliners Frightened Rabbit take to the Main Stage - they are, in essence, four guitars, two keyboards, a consistent drum beat and a succession of singable refrains and tantalising riffs.

The dry wit of Neil Hannon has been foregone this year for something more upliftingly Scottish - and, to be fair, who really wants to think at this moment? And though the sound isn't the kindest to them, these killer Rabbits are the ideal tonic for closing time, raising everyone's spirits and cementing Stendhal's status, at least in my mind, as Northern Ireland's Electric Picnic. More of the same next year, please.

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MUSIC REVIEW: Jingle Ball 2014

With the Jingle Bells comes the Jingle Ball, and, if you're ready to swing with the mood, jingle all the way. Following the obligatory warm up of disco and Chrimbo tunes, Cool FM's third annual "hip pop" extravaganza bursts into life, dazzling the eyes and ears of the screaming thousands in the Belfast Odyssey.

It's not so much a Christmas gig than a Christmas present for the predominantly youthful audience. Selfies, photos and flashing lights are all encouraged above, around and below the star filled stage.

And it is Labrinth's "We Will Rock You" claps that set just the right mood for deafening sound and beats. His pluck and power combo, sonic booms mixed in with piano balladry, are the ideal prologue for the light and liveliness of the night.

The equally plucky yet much lower key acoustics of Elyar Fox aren't quite as winning, but they're more than enough for an audience wholly keen on losing themselves in the steadily enhancing party atmospherics. Better is local girl Leah McFall of The Voice fame: her strong, piercingly clear and determinedly fresh vocals ring true in this cauldron of noise. With each act having no more than a handful of songs, tonight is as much about having fun as making it count: and McFall takes this fully on board.

As does Fuse ODG. His chantable refrains and easily clappable rhythms, adorned in spotlights of many colours, cement already high spirits. It is like MTV Crashes all over again.

A succession of significantly quieter boyband anthems from Hometown pave the way for the biggest surprise of the evening following the interval. Humble as a speaker, ebullient as a singer, the refreshingly contradictory Paloma Faith is a breath of fresh air, with enough charisma, jazz and soulfulness to all too briefly capture local hearts. By contrast, the meek yet charming Alexa Goddard struts teasingly like a little songbird, daring watchers to be sucked in. Hardly a dominant presence, she nonetheless gers by on goodwill, gumption and a dash of jollity.

The stage is then set for Neon Jungle to bring back the booms before Sigma and McBusted's grand finale bring the curtain down excitably. Like a selection box of popular chocolates, you mostly know what you're going to get at the Jingle Ball, but the event is no less enjoyable for it.

(The original version of this review was published in the Belfast Telegraph on Tuesday December 9, 2014. It can be read here.) Read more...

FILM REVIEW: Night Will Fall/Electricity

Movies about capturing and being captured stand out at Derry-Londonderry's Foyle Film Festival

A Holocaust documentary about a Holocaust documentary, André Singer's Night Will Fall centres on the challenge of witnessing and experiencing atrocity from close range, and in doing so depicts the largest mass murder in history in a starkly unfamiliar manner.

Towards the end of World War II, trained cameramen amongst British, and later Russian and American, soldiers set out to capture footage of those captured for a Sidney Bernstein documentary, one that will ultimately take almost seven decades to see the light of day. They genuinely encounter sights no one should want to see, a horrifying yet enlightening sight for them back then and for us at this moment in time.

After entering the concentration camps blindfolded, for the first time, the soldiers' open their eyes on the doll-like corpses of typhus victims. To get too close would spook out any soldier to the point of insanity; it is wisely left for the interviewed survivors, among them Schindler's List producer Branko Lustig, to document the near death experiences. When one survivor says, "You spend years preparing to die and somehow you're still here", everything about their God-like view of the Allied soldiers makes perfect sense.

From such quiet, matter-of-fact testimonies, and additional interviews with historians and those involved with Bernstein's film, Night Will Fall earns an emotional numbness to compliment its soberly frightening sights. The danger of present-day audiences becoming alienated from overexposure to the horrors is averted many times over: the sight of the SS's grave digging alone, for example, recalls the mistakes made from trying to bury the past instead of dealing with it, and the German apathy of the period harshly reflects that inaction can be even more damaging than action. Night Will Fall neither glosses over its horrors nor flatters its audience: it isn't a shocking wake up call followed by a comforting resolution, but instead strongly reminds viewers of, and draws viewers into, a cold and hellish landscape. The story of the film that didn't make it, too, gives invaluable heft to the production, extra beats to the once damaged and now healing hearts of the survivors and witnesses.

The documented oppression of the Holocaust victims finds a more individualised, closer-to-home metaphor in Lily O'Connor, the central character in Bryn Higgins' excellent Electricity. Opening with a depressing image of bodies floating in mid air, the film immediately recalls the HAL-esque "eye" that opens Matt Reeves' superb Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes: emptiness and lack of direction amidst darkness. Lily, wonderfully played by Agyness Deyn, is all those things personified – she is an epilepsy sufferer who courageously refuses to be entrapped by either her illness or the stigma against epileptics, yet she genuinely feels she has nowhere to go.

Flashing lights make Lily ill at ease. The art in her family bedroom, at one point edgy and at other times colourful, matches her state of mind. Lily is the kind who feels suffocation in excessive confinement, a point emphasized brilliantly by extremely shaky hand-held close ups: she does not want to be a prisoner but accepts that she is a prisoner of sorts. In her world it feels like almost everyone will be there for you when you're in trouble, but your dependence on others holds you back from fully growing up. Lily has trained herself to deal with the abuse she received since her youth, but is unable to cope without support. Thus, she is alternately headstrong and helpless: attributes which come wholeheartedly to the fore when the death of her mother turns the lives of Lily and brother Barry upside down.

Once their mother's house is sold, Lily suggests that the proceeds should be split equally between herself, Barry and long-lost brother Mikey (Christian Cooke), and, despite Barry's warnings, goes on a quest to track Mikey down in London. Alas, for Lily it's a London as unforgiving as another Lily's London ("When you look with your eyes, everything seems nice, but when you look twice, you can see it's all lies") - a whirlwind of mistrust and superficiality. Relief is eventually forthcoming in the form of the equally alienated and warmly friendly Mel (Being Human's Lenora Crichlow, right at home as a sympathetic ghost in this broken shell) and from here on in – save one unfortunate, heavy-handed plot strand about a street beggar – Electricity compellingly wraps themes of friendship, fear, the need for acceptance and survival around a tautly mannered narrative. It is frighteningly and disturbingly truthful both to its central illness and to its characters, making the heart-rending and heart-warming case that while superficial acceptance is common, true acceptance, much harder to find, is invaluable. If Night Will Fall is crucial as documentation, Electricity is up close and personal – a dark, despairing near-masterpiece.

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FILM REVIEW: Testament Of Youth

The Foyle Film Festival in Derry-Londonderry opens with a torrential tapestry of turbulent events in a World War I setting

The "based on a true story" narrative in films has been tinkered with, tempered with and downright violated with enough times for any experienced viewer to take such films with more than a pinch of salt. To that extent, such films must earn their believability by creating a plausible world of their own, via strong storytelling that captures the essence but more importantly the heart of the factual characters and setting. In that respect, James Kent's first feature film, Testament Of Youth, passes the test with flying colours, attaining its goals through atmospheric authenticity, calm visual expressionism and a lead performance for the ages.

How reliable are one's memories? That's the first question director Kent appears to be asking as he and screenwriter Juliette Towhidi delve into the "Letters From A Lost Generation" that accompany the memoirs of main character Vera Brittain, played here by Swedish actress Alicia Vikander. It's a question central to the torrential tapestry of Testament Of Youth, a series of turbulent events that will shape the physical and memorial ideologies of every single character in the piece.

And when we begin, a shadow is already cast on Vera's fearful face: on Armistice Day, in November 1918. But Vera cannot join in the celebrations; she only wants peace. And she finds refuge in a painting of the Great Flood, a sharply metaphorical image that on one hand recalls loss of life in the First World War, and on the other hand, an alienated girl drowning in a sea of suffocation.

Flash back four years and Vera is emerging from a lake into a series of light-hearted sequences that reflect the idealistic dreaminess in pre-war 1910s Britain. (Britain, Brittain - surely not a coincidence?) The banter between Vera, her cheerful friend Victor (Colin Morgan) and her brother Edward (Taron Egerton) is pleasant and unaffected, sharply countering her slightly controlling father (Dominic West), a man fearful of losing his daughter to the Oxford education she so desires and, later, his son to the war. It's a clever, unforced illustration of freedom of expression vs. the status of the pater familias, and rings true to the time.

It is Vera's future fiancé Roland (Kit Harington), a bit of a poet himself, who convinces Vera's father to let her sit the entrance exam, and the contrasting moods throughout their courtship and Vera's path to university are explored elegantly. Blatant reaction shots are eschewed in favour of free-flowing if sometimes pointed interactivity. Vera tells Roland: "(Your poem) was a little dry, as if you were holding back. I couldn’t find you in it." Criticism hurts, whether the recipient deems it necessary or not, yet Roland takes it as a challenge, a means to improve his poetry - the very gift that the war will rob from him. It's painful to look upon the film in hindsight and recall Vera admitting to Roland, "I've never known where I fit". For later on, neither will he.

The dangers of the real tragedy being superseded by the fake one, that it will be more about a couple's fortunes, or one woman's fortunes, than those of everyone else during the war, are removed by a tight, thoughtful, sure handed approach to in which we experience absolutely everyone's suffering: on both sides. Put Kaiser Wilhelm II's immortally incorrect idiom in context ("You will be home before the leaves have fallen") and everything about the emotions before logic, feelings before consequences ideology of this Testament Of Youth, opportunism without oppression, breaks down and becomes clear.

In all of this, Vera is our focal point: if Alicia Vikander may not be the most experienced or even gifted actor in a parade of stars (Dominic West, Emily Watson, Miranda Richardson), she is pivotal. Vikander is the heart, the fulcrum, the quietly intimate and determinedly deep soul that paints growing, gripping tableaux of terror before our eyes. Moments of relief are few as Vera and Roland lose sight of their dreams, the horrors of war damaging their formerly wistful hearts and minds in different ways: Roland to protect both Vera and his masculinity, Vera to protect others by becoming a nurse. If Roland's damaged head overtakes his heart, Vera's wounded heart overtakes her head. It is a staggering dichotomy with shattering outcomes for both of them, and many more.

By war's end, populations have been pierced and priorities skewed as Vera resembles the broken shell we saw at the start of a journey we have felt every single minute of. As Vera's future colleague and friend Winifred Holtby will tell her: "All of us are surrounded by ghosts. Now we have to learn how to live with them." This defines Testament Of Youth as a sort of lost paradise - a Paradise Lost, perhaps? - for the current, commemorative generation, a burden it shoulders with admirable grace and remarkable skill.

The Foyle Film Festival runs until Sunday November 23 in Derry-Londonderry. Check out www.foylefilmfestival.org for more information. Read more...

FESTIVAL REVIEW: Belfast Festival At Queen's

Two events from this year's Belfast Festival are reviewed - a magical concoction of dance, music and poetry, and a bubbly merging of musical backgrounds

NEITHER EITHER, THE MAC THEATRE

Neither. Either. Words of similar sound yet opposite meaning, separated on one hand by a mere consonant, and on the other hand, by their interpretation. An interpretation rich in possibility for artistic expression is brought to life superbly by the inspiration of Seamus Heaney, the choreography of Liz Roche, the music of Neil Martin and four immensely talented dancers at Belfast's MAC Theatre.

The four dancers – Philip Connaughton, Katherine O'Malley, David Ogle and Vasiliki Stasinaki – communicate the beliefs, identities, aspirations and emotions of Roche's piece between themselves and to the watchers through perceptive poise, balletic grace and a compendium of physical and facial poses.

Neil Martin's piano score is efficient, eclectic and emblematic, reflecting and synchronising with the moodiness and movements of the on-stage quartet. The dancers presented theatrical alter egos divided by gender and the colour of their clothing, yet united by the need for connection and understanding. In doing so, they successfully and poignantly project the exploratory themes of Roche's work – of the self, of others, and of bonding.

Fluctuating on-stage emotionalism and intermittent off-stage narration mirror the similarities and differences between the titular words and the characters – subsumed by undeniable differences, yet united by means of expression. From two words and the inspiration of a legendary poet arises a kaleidoscopic spectrum of industrial light and human magic.

(The original version of this review appeared in the Belfast Telegraph on Thursday October 30, 2014. It can be read here.)

TAMIKREST, ELMWOOD HALL

A decidedly and deceptively old school setting greets the eyes of those who take their seats for the arrival of Malian musicians Tamikrest. A large curtain draped over the back of the hall, percussion and guitars of all kinds scattered around the stage, a keyboard and... a gramophone?

But this isn't vaudeville. Rather, it is a hint of the vibrant and virtuous on stage antics that have come from abroad to raise the spirits in Belfast's Elmwood Hall.

Fronted by Ousamane Ag Mossa, Tamikrest are men – and a woman – on a mission. Literally and figuratively, they are a blend, an alliance at a junction of harmonic and melodic messages, on a quest to provide chords of conviction that would delight, resonate with and enlighten onlookers of all persuasions. And, on their first ever visit to Ireland, they certainly achieve that.

A trio of cultures descend upon the Elmwood Hall stage – the Middle Eastern, Western and West African garb will match the tone and feel of the vocals, guitars and percussion respectively throughout the entirety of the evening. Opening with a steady, funky beat that alternately echoes both Jimi Hendrix and Bob Marley, this soon ascends into a cocktail of passionate vocals, booming bass lines and very catchy drum beats that primes and powers up everyone in the hall.

It is a winning combination, tunes that reference the past and respect the traditions of the band while highlighting positivity, filling the performers and the crowd with unity and belief. Musical genres switch effortlessly and effervescently, calm contemplative vocals a welcome breather in the midst of up tempo makeovers for country and blues music, and thunderous drums in a sea of soul.

By set's end, the audience no longer need prompting to clap along and dance to this admirable, amiable and highly memorable merging of musical backgrounds.

(The original version of this review appeared in the Belfast Telegraph on Friday October 31, 2014. It can be read here.) Read more...

MUSIC REVIEW: City Of Derry Jazz & Big Band Festival 2014

A Not-So-Dirty Harry makes our day and a crooner of corny ballads re-invents himself at the Derry-Londonderry musical showpiece

The more things change, the more things stay the same. Sort of. As one temporary tent was taken down in Derry-Londonderry’s Ebrington Barracks not so long ago, another smaller but arguably no less atmospheric tent of wood and canvas was on its way to the Guildhall Square. The world-famous "Spiegeltent", erected in the square for April's Pan Celtic Festival, has won admirers worldwide with its wide open "hall of mirrors" aesthetic and unique live musical experiences. Retaining its use for the city's annual jazz extravaganza was surely a given; and it is this venue which will host the two most high profile jazz musicians of another memorable weekend.

First on the "big names bill" is Kyle "son of Clint" Eastwood, who takes to the stage on Saturday evening. His musical talent leads compere Mark Patterson to intone that we'll "never watch the Dirty Harry movies the same way!" But first, we get to enjoy the winners of the recent Music City Talent contest: teen rockers The Kashmir Krows.

Lead guitarist Joseph Leighton, bassist Jonathan Black and guitarist Frank Duffy aren’t strictly jazz, either in hairstyle or music, but they are ideal for warming the cockles. On their menu is a steady, grungy jungle beat with shades of Black Grape, Guns 'N' Roses and Jamiroquai which often crackles with an early 1970s rhythm. It’s a truly appetizing smorgasbord which garners much applause in the Tardis-esque structure, especially when they sign off with a dash of Jimi Hendrix. With a little luck, these guys could go a long way.

Kyle Eastwood himself is a dominant presence. Like his father dearest, he lives and breathes his work, grimacing as his fingers visibly battle with guitar and cello strings. But this struggle only mirrors his concentration level, the standards he sets for himself and the quality of his music.

He hits a very high watermark early on with "Marrakesh". Aided by Andrew McCormack's tinkling keys, Graeme Blevins' saxophone, Chris Draper's drums and Quentin Collins' brass work, Eastwood creates an initially confusing but on the whole cinematic effect, the thunderous beats arguably reflecting the strife and culture of Africa itself. These beats then dissolve into a hypnotic rhythm with irresistible riffs from Blevins and Collins taking centre stage. The audience is entranced, and so, for a brief moment, is Eastwood.

Any jitters the star performer may have experienced to begin with are extinguished completely by the multi-layered "Big Noise", a typically loud, epic and kinetic instrumental concoction. Its slightly cluttered but thumping and euphonic groove is stylishly matched by the more polished but no less forceful "A Night In Senegal". Sandwiched in between comes the gratifyingly mild Herbie Hancock piece, "Dolphin Dance", in which McCormack's piano playing is at its very best.

The throbbing bass and escalating tempo of Horace Silver's "Blowing The Blues Away" leads into a classy finish and deserved encore for the remarkably expressive Eastwood. It has been a show where the performers and audience have felt wholly at one with the music;  this Not-So-Dirty Harry and his ensemble have literally gone ahead and made our day.

"The flowing locks have gone, but the music remains, and the swoon-o-meter's pretty high". As Mark Patterson speaks those words, it is expected that early 1990s icon Curtis Stigers will set numerous pulses racing on the Sunday. No longer defined by the crass, simplistic, dated but undeniably catchy balladry that initially made him famous - is there anyone who doesn't have "I Wonder Why" and "You're All That Matters To Me" burned into their memories? - he aims to establish himself as a confident, swinging lothario, complete with sometimes funny and sometimes not entirely appropriate references to love, sex, relationships and all that.

Backed by a very talented band, Stigers breezes by on a calm combination of his reputation, personality and undeniably impressive re-invention of himself as a "jazz man". He merges herky, jerky and oddly robotic swing movements with human beatboxing and funky calypsos, in an always interesting performance that justifies at least a portion of the acclaim that's gone his way throughout the past decade. The Guinness-drinking and Terry Wogan-impersonating interludes, to name but a couple, aren't fully convincing, but they don't need to be; Stigers has the requisite charisma to paper over the cracks. The audience's favourite songs are performed, and not quite as we know them. And love songs like Steve Earle's "Valentine's Day", "You Don't Know What Love Is" and "The Way You Look Tonight" are delivered with soulful melancholy. That he succeeds to this extent in a field you wouldn't have thought was his cup of tea is commendable.

And yet, is that enough? When you compare Stigers with the best this festival has had to offer in recent times, particularly the magnificent Pink Martini, he falls more than a little short. If this set is diverting and entertaining, it is rarely absorbing - it is not the sort of set that makes one want to rush out and buy the record afterwards. Polished though the music is, it is more admirable than likable. Perhaps it is his general approach; whereas Kyle Eastwood carefully caresses his guitars and cello, treating each string and note like it genuinely is all that matters to him, Stigers goes laid back and the end result teeters a very fine line between slick and irritatingly nonchalant. In my eyes, Stigers is less than the sum of his parts because he allows the personality to take over the artistry; a mistake that The Kashmir Krows, Kyle Eastwood and especially Neil Cowley do not make.

For this is one of those rare evenings where the support act outdoes the star. The rapport that City Of Culture 2013 Musician-In-Residence Neil Cowley and his Mission Impossible troupe strike up with the Derry-Londonderry crowd is far more homely. The boisterous, booming voice and powerful presence of singer Bernadette Powell is the pivot around which a short, simplistic but riotously rhythmic showcase emerges.  It's a cheerful reminder of the endlessly enduring Motown effect; the sort that just makes you want to get up and dance, as Martha Reeves might put it. When they sign off, the Spielgeltent genuinely feels like the "Land Of A Thousand Dances": and with that, Mission Impossible have captured a spirit worthy of any jazz and big band festival. Read more...

MUSIC REVIEW: Dana Masters

The South Carolina born singer links up with Linley Hamilton for an electric and eclectic show of soul at the City Of Derry Jazz & Big Band Festival

"The more you drink, the better we sound", says top notch trumpeteer Linley Hamilton before he joins pianist Scott Flanagan, double bassist Ken Murphy and drummer Markus Strothman for this Playhouse showpiece in this year's City Of Derry Jazz & Big Band Festival Calendar. It's typical of one of Northern Ireland's best musicians, I suppose, to play himself down for fear of not playing up to his usual high standards, but his comment ties in neatly with his humorous humility. The power, versatility and adaptability in the Bangor man's performances has resonated long and loud over the years, and will continue to do so tonight in tandem with South Carolina-born, Lisburn-based soulstress Dana Masters.

What Masters, Hamilton and the ensemble offer on the night is a show defined by beats of the rhythm and the heart. Theirs is the expression of musical emotion not through sullen lyrics, but through electric and eclectic brass, keys, percussion and vocals. Masters masters the stage is a sometimes high-key, sometimes low-key but never off-key manner, filling her numbers not with self-pitying sentiment but elements of redemptive power that resurrect every single finger-clicking, foot-tapping, hand-clapping spirit in the packed Playhouse audience. Highlights include a poignant, intense and reflective rendition of Charlie Chaplin's "Smile", the heartfelt, personal "Georgia", and a strong and true performance of Etta James' "At Last" that has Hamilton, Strothman and surely the crowd nodding at each other in silent amazement.

Masters channels not only Etta James but also Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday, her powerful pitch seeping under your skin, her passion gently melting the heart. Each song, too, is selflessly structured so that every single one of the performers on stage shines. One need not overanalyze this music - one can gain so much more just by surrendering to its effect. By the time Masters, Hamilton and company sign out with the genuinely joyous encore of Irving Berlin's "Blue Skies", one cannot help but look forward to what this extremely gifted ensemble will do next. Personally, I'd love to see Masters take on Aretha Franklin.

The City Of Derry Jazz And Big Band Festival 2014 runs citywide until Monday May 5. For more information, visit the official website. Read more...

We've Made It Happen: Our City Of Culture 2013

A message from the editor on the final night of a momentous year for Derry-Londonderry

My fellow City-Of-Culturistas...

This is the 92nd time I'm going to be posting to you from this website in 2013, and the last. The end of this Legenderry year, as we've liked to call it, is almost upon us. It has been a pleasure, a privilege, and a downright honour to be one of your "correspondents" in writing and photography in this city, this year. Many of you have spoken to me and said, "well done", but I could say as much to you, if not more. But before the year ends, I'd like to share some thoughts with all of you in relation to this lovely city we live in.

I can still recall when, as a slightly younger man who didn't quite know where his career was going, I first heard when Derry-Londonderry was up for this inaugural cultural honour. It was there when I realised, like no doubt many of you did at the time, that I could make a difference, and passions for both writing and photography that I once thought were on the verge of dying were reawakened.

We won the honour. We had our moment. And now, two and a half years later, the city's cultural landscape shines strong and tall in a Silver City Risen from darkness to light. A new vision and a new legacy, created by the fittingly titled Sons And Daughters of Derry-Londonderry, so many of whom swept us up in a tidal wave of musical glory near the start of this remarkable year.

That, of course, was only the beginning of a series of standout events that defined Derry-Londonderry, so good they named it twice, as a thriving arts and cultural landscape. But it was, and is, more than that, of course.

When watching Finding Nemo for what seemed like the umpteenth time recently, seven words in the screenplay truly resonated with me: "When I see you, I see home." Seven words that are worth a thousand in the context of Derry-Londonderry, for it might not have been, and still might not be, the best place in the world to everyone, but it is our place. We created it. We are in tune with absolutely everything about it: people, landscapes, landmarks and opportunities.

And to my pleasant surprise, that was exactly how Derry-Londonderry felt to just about every tourist and traveller I’ve met on my travels around the city throughout 2013. We are a City Of Culture, but we are also a City Of Community and Great Company.

During these last twelve months, I've made it my aim, in some way or another, to both develop as a cultural writer and bring you the best from the City Of Culture 2013. Last year, Si's Sights And Sounds was born, and continues to thrive today. But it never belonged to me. It belonged to you, the people who provided me with the material to write about. I spread the word, but you made the words. I was just the messenger, someone who was lucky enough to be in the right places at the right times. The real heroes of Derry-Londonderry 2013 are the people as a whole, the technicians, artists, actors, directors, writers, photographers, musicians, spectators and so on who made it happen, men and women who relayed a continuous cavalcade of sights and sounds to a global audience. Without the people, the cultural "delights" we praised would not have had the heart and soul that they undeniably did.

No doubt, you will ask me if I have regrets, and I do. The economy is one of them. As much as Derry-Londonderry has flourished on the surface, there is the clear and present fear that the city is, in reality, dancing on a volcano, and that the lack of job opportunities may force many of our great talents, be they newly found or established, to look elsewhere. Tonight is no night for dwelling on that, but another significant matter ought to be addressed: what will we do now our year in the spotlight is over?

With that in mind, I refer to what was done with the famous Crystal Palace after the Great Exhibition of 1851: remove the building blocks of a short-term success and relay it for the long term. Even with both Ebrington's Venue and the Turner Prize Exhibition on their way down and out, respectively, there remains the chance to cement the whole of Derry-Londonderry as a cultural city by the people, for the people. Because that is what it should be, if it isn't already. Our newly found momentum must be carried well into the future, for there remains the danger of living in the moment and not considering the long-term consequences. Even if a feeling of "could do better" exists in the Derry-Londonderry air, what also exists is a genuinely warm, winning and welcoming spirit that will surely endure.

It has also been asked that, as big as a certain Big Weekend was, was there really a need for it? And the answer, in my view, is a resounding Yes. Not everyone was fortunate enough to live the experience at the Prehen Playing Fields nearly a decade ago, and this truly was Big. Even the music, to me, was almost irrelevant; what we saw during those nights were unprecedented levels of confidence, light and unity spreading around the city. All may not really be hunky dory in this current climate, but for the audience on those days, all was. They wanted big moments, and we delivered. Sons and Daughters. The spectacular Political Mother. CHIC, so good he came twice. The Fabulous Fleadh. Music City, especially the Sky Orchestra. The inaugural Walled City Tattoo. The Return Of Colmcille. Lumiere. And many more. Events that told the tale of a city both in touch with what made it what it is, and the wider artistic world.

Even something as simple as a tweet or a Facebook status update could reach out and touch thousands, millions even. My own City Of Culture status updates were inspired by legendary American actor Stan Freberg, but who, or what, inspired you? You may have found such things as the cobblestones on London Street, and the views from the walls, as inspirational as anything you could read. That's a cultural strength for you; inspirations, assets, success, from the least likely of places. And there have been many of those.

It's been a year of contrasts, a year of history. And one night, as I looked across the River Foyle at the illuminated STITCH IN TIME sign, an endeavour of industrial light and magic that stands proud and tall over everything around it, I found it hard not to contrast the numerous aspects of the city. The big and the small, the past and the future, the understated and the grand.  It is not merely, as Ronald Reagan put it, a "shining city upon a hill", but a city at sixes and sevens, as skilfully illustrated on one memorable summer night at The Guildhall.

A Stitch In Time may symbolise several of the things in this city, be they factories, craft or camaraderie. But we must not allow this year to remain a mere stitch in time, a footnote to be cast away into the forgotten annals of history. Better, instead, to think of what At Sixes And Sevens, and indeed every single cultural endeavour in 2013 illustrated: we have made history, and we have history, still, to make.

There isn't one aspect of this city that I take for granted today, from the wide open space in Ebrington Square, to the numerous art galleries, to the walls, to venues both indoor and open air, to the spectacular foot and cycle bridge that has symbolised our city for more than two years. We've made it happen. We, the sons and daughters of Derry-Londonderry, have made the city what it is.

And here's to carrying our spirit and soulfulness through to 2014 and beyond.

Happy New Year to all of you. Read more...

MUSIC REVIEW: City Songs

A full house bears witness to “one of the most treasured cultural happenings” in Derry-Londonderry

Numerous memorable musical extravaganzas such as Sons & Daughters, Music City and the Fleadh have helped to cement the City Of Culture 2013's reputation as a "City Of Song"; and the city's inaugural International Choral Festival stands poised to enhance it. A cavalcade of cosmopolitan choirs have descended upon Derry-Londonderry for the first time, and we won't be forgetting their impact in a hurry.

In the words of tonight's presenter, Mark Patterson, we are set for "one of the most treasured cultural happenings" in the city. The question is: Does the City Songs concert, regarded as central to the success of the festival, live up to its billing?

The omens are good. The opening gala concert the night before has been, by all accounts, a phenomenal success, translating into a full house in an incandescently lit St. Columb's Theatre.

Enter Latvian Voices, seven Eastern European young ladies in multi-cultural attire. The style of their clothing is reflected in the tone of their singing early on – impressive but inconsistent. I am initially impressed by their range and chemistry, but yet to be truly absorbed.

Fortunately, these seven girls soon earn their corn and deserved applause through an eclectic mix of traditional and modern folk, laden with multiple octave singing, rippling tempos, ear-piercing vocal solos and human beat-boxing.

"Gloria" and "Sanctus" are highly commendable; think Mozart's "Requiem" with a relaxing jazzy beat and Lakme's "Flower Duet" on top. But they save their best 'til the end, notably a spine-tingling rendition of "Danny Boy", arranged by Latvian composer Ēriks Ešenvalds, and a version of the U2 classic "I Still Haven't Found What I’m Looking For" (listen below) that ought to have even Bono eating his heart out.

It's enough for a good evening's entertainment. Yet when choirs start gathering around the audience following the interval, we know that we've only been served the appetizer before the main course.

That being, City Songs, a newly commissioned work by Ešenvalds, Australian poet Emma Jones and British artist Imogen Heap, which sees six choirs come together with the Orchestra of Ireland for a musical narrative based in a city "upon a hill".

It could be any city, but the descriptions within the piece fit Derry-Londonderry to a tee. Harmony after harmony adorns the theatre of St. Columba as the Holst Singers, Codetta, the Roundhouse Choir, Encore Contemporary Choir and Colmcille Ladies slowly make their way to join the Music Promise Junior Choir on stage. It's like Music City in a music hall.

Conductor Stephen Layton, a fundamental presence, enunciates in Radio DJ speak, signifying the beginning of our narrative. A young traveller – Heap – enters a city at dawn, listening to the radio ("The Radio") and looking for her childhood home. City history is explored through a series of distinctive contrasts, with Heap’s broken and vulnerable improvisation alongside the Music Promise Choir’s optimistic depiction of a village becoming a city, a small city becoming huge, possibly even a burgeoning choir becoming great ("The City")... a pattern is starting to emerge.

Through interacting with the Roundhouse Choir ("Workers"), the Holst Singers ("Pedestrians") and poetry from Emma Jones, Heap relays to us the difficulty of finding one’s way in a city, while the choirs around her musically transmit the situations and personalities of differing citizens to the audience. "Buskers" goes one step further, with not only Heap's vocals impressing but also the thematic richness of the composition itself. The struggle, nature, wisdom and talent of street singers are delivered in a clear and pleasant manner by the Colmcille Ladies. Shades of Paul Muldoon and Mark Anthony Turnage's "At Sixes And Sevens" are evident here.

Donal Doherty’s Codetta Choir get their chance to excel in "Voices" and "Customers", the latter featuring a standout solo from Helen O'Hare. Here, the traveller follows the tune of an ice-cream truck to find a way home; it is intriguing how much poetry can be drawn from the sight, sound and food of such a familiar vehicle.

The careful structure of the piece, which allows all choirs and especially Heap to fully express themselves, continues right up to the finale, through the happiness of "Commuters", the moody, dreamy "The City (Night)" and a rumination on homecoming, "Road Motet", where the traveller concludes that sometimes the journey is better than the arrival. With the quality of the singing and instrumentals stellar throughout, it is best to focus on the tone of the piece and how it relates to the narrative; and it relates extremely well.

When the spectacular opening rhythm of "Radio" repeats itself in the joyful "Parade", Derry-Londonderry unites in song as singers wash around the spectators again, the vocals slowly fading into the closing, solitary and melancholic prose of Heap. As regretful as her final monologue sounds, it is clear that she and her character never felt alone; and on a night awash with talent, neither did we.

The inaugural City Of Derry International Choral Festival runs until Sunday October 27. For more information, visit www.codichoral.com. Read more...

MUSIC REVIEW: Stendhal 2013

While Derry-Londonderry was getting Fleadh-d out, a little festival was taking place on the outskirts of Limavady. Si's Sights And Sounds went to check it out

If Glasgowbury established itself as a lower key Oxegen during its thirteen-year-tenure – that is to say, mainly about, if not all about, the bands – Limavady's Stendhal Festival, situated on Ballymully Cottage Farm, is like a lower key Electric Picnic. The wide open fields, the larger tents, the mazy surroundings, the flashing lights, the arty sculptures, and, above all, the sense that you really could be in a mud bath in the middle of nowhere, were there to be a serious downpour. It’s like being in another world. But then again, isn't that what all great festivals should be like?

Fresh from thrilling the Legenderry crowd with Bronagh Gallagher at the Fleadh, Paul Casey, Derry's Mr. Consistency, joins Marty Barr to raise spirits at the Karma Valley Stage on Friday evening with his affable rock. Tunes like "I Do", "Something's Gotta Give" and "The Last Goodbye" fill the tent with applause and atmosphere, even if sing alongs are muted and dancing feet are hard to spot.

Back at the Main Stage, Matt Backer (above) and Mick Wilson (of 10CC) come across as a less cheesy take on Jon Bon Jovi with echoes of Steely Dan; not entirely my cup of tea, but the Main Stage audience are clearly impressed. The duo are a prelude to a troubadour most notable for his outlandish dreadlocks and vaudevillian stage presence, a guy who guarantees you a good time no matter who he's accompanied by - Duke Special, aka Peter Wilson. Along with regular "partners in crime" Ben Castle and Temperance Society "Chip" Bailey, he offers a neat reminder of how and why his fan base grew to love his music to begin with. Highlights of this set include a particularly melancholy "No Cover Up", the inappropriately upbeat "Diggin' An Early Grave", the show-stopping, Neil Hannon-penned "Wanda, Darling Of The Jockey Club" and the popular "Portrait". Even a hoarse rendition of "Freewheel" and an unfortunate power cut mid set can’t hold his energy back.

Fans of "The Duke" will also be aware that he's taken to performing a rather moving piano cover of "Love Will Tear Us Apart" at just about every gig he plays. It is unfortunate that no one told Stevie Martin, aka Rainy Boy Sleep (below), that Americana and the Joy Division classic don't quite go together. It's not that Martin's cover is bad; it just pales in comparison to Duke's. But his is an entirely different kind of voice. Channelling the mellowness of Stuart Murdoch and the projection of Elbow's Guy Garvey, with a nasal twinge, Martin and his acoustic guitar create a series of innovative, on-the-spot and self-recorded backing beats which mix smoothly with chorally strong ballads in a hugely likable performance.

Little Bear have no problem in the likability stakes – the only way has been up for Steven McCool and his band since Other Voices Derry, and their solid performance here consolidates their status as one of the top new musical arrivals of 2013. If a middling crowd diminishes their impact somewhat – to these eyes, Little Bear thrive on atmosphere - the likes of "Night Dries Like Ink", "Second In Line", "I'd Let You Win" and "Take Me Back Together" are still warmly received, boding well for their forthcoming Electric Picnic show. One hopes they can avoid the kind of stagnancy that subsumed Franz Ferdinand and The Killers and really push on from here.

A most interesting little journey to the Air Stage is greeted by the sight of, if you believe Steve Huey of allmusic.com, "one of Britain's most influential dancehall toasters". And we are definitely warmed up by the high tempo educational humour of Wolverhampton-born reggae artist Macka B. Yes, I said "educational humour" - in an hour, he references the music of James Bond and the legend of Bob Marley, in addition to telling us a thing or two about the wonders of women, the dangers of fast food and the benefits of a vegan diet. Given more time, you sense he'd re-iterate his own History Of The World to us in dancehall, dub step fashion; and we would happily hear it.

The rather delayed arrival of Dubliner Paddy Casey and his slick accompanist Fiona Melady leads to squeals of excitement at the Main Stage, and he responds with a series of enrapturing riffs and relatable rock tunes that help to establish a real party atmosphere. As good as Casey’s original material is, however, his covers of Nina Simone’s "Sinnerman" and "I Wanna Be Like You" get the best reception. I guess most North Westerners love being reminded of the Jazz Festival – and you can’t really blame them, can you?

Jazz, rock and just about any other genre you could think of then get the avant-garde treatment as one of Derry-Londonderry's favourite sons, Neil Hannon, brings down the curtain on Stendhal 2013 in typically eclectic fashion. Even if the sound is not the kindest to him and he can't always remember the words to his songs, the all round good spirit present in the punters, his fan base and Hannon himself carries things through to the finish. As the triumphant final chords of "A Drinking Song" die out, everybody knows they've had a good time... all the more reason to return here for more in 2014. Read more...

The Fleadh Cheoil na hÉireann Diary 2013

Si’s Sights And Sounds looks back on a selection of highlights from a truly magical week in Derry-Londonderry

What was already known as the largest festival of song and dance in Ireland took on an even larger quality in Northern Ireland's second city and the cultural capital of the North West.

An estimated 430,000 people were stunned, conquered and delighted by the sights, sounds and general "craic" that washed around them in what was a truly glorious communal and musical experience.

We at Si's Sights And Sounds were fortunate enough to be writing about and taking pictures of several of the week's events, and we are happy to present to you our written and pictorial chronicle of them: The Fleadh Cheoil na hÉireann Diary.

MONDAY, AUGUST 12

There is already quite a commotion in St. Columb's Cathedral when a photo of the Cor Gaelach singers of Donaghmore, Co. Tyrone is taken. Sitting patiently beside the numerous spotlights that give their youthful faces an even more effervescent glow, they seem to be beaming with pride in response to the goodwill already drummed up in the city from Sunday’s opening ceremony. What we will hear tonight promises to be more mute than the likes of Sontas but no less chorally rich.

Being not so well versed in the Irish language, I must rely on the tune to carry me through Evensong, compositions intended to highlight both the differences and the unity between Ireland and Scotland. A series of well balanced tunes lend themselves kindly to the mostly delicate, sparsely triumphant and ethereal vocals of the Cor Gaelach singers, with some neat, angelic and entrancing soprano solos raising their talents to the fore.

Somewhat less kind are the acoustics in the church toward the Psalm Singers of the Isle Of Lewis, Scotland. When this quartet do not perform solos, they sound like a series of braying bagpipes screaming for each other’s attention, although once they adjust to the confines of their surroundings, they become much more assured. And there is something about their Highlandish nature that grows on you, particularly their diction. Best of all on the night, however, is “Hi, Bill!”, Padraig O’Mianain’s warm, rippling and rather jolly accordion-led tribute to a certain former US President, his impact on the Derry community, and his contribution to the peace process.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 13

Sorrowful sung soliloquies, accomplished musicians, unexpected calypsos, feisty compassion, spilled water bottles (yes), a charismatic host and the maxim that "talent runs in the family" – all of the aforementioned are vital components in Imrice, aka Songs Of Emigration. The enriching and inspiring possibilities of folk music are delightfully explored in this suitably intimate concert at Derry’s Playhouse Theatre. Guitarist Barry Kerr, and later, the sister duo of Triona and Mairead Ni Dhomnall, offer an easy-to-enjoy and contemplative brand of solid professionalism and wistful warbling, with Kerr coming across as a particularly skilled guitarist.

To the eyes, Co Kerry's Pauline Scanlan may appear as sweet and timid as a little bird, but she soars through her numbers like an eagle; she radiates extreme confidence and conviction through a musically bouncy but lyrically dark set list, creating a very lively spin on Mary Black. The bottle of water belonging to Damien O'Kane – once of Flook – may have unwelcomely exploded in his back pocket, but the only explosion the audience are thinking about by the end of his set is the enthralling rhythm and depth of the sound provided by O'Kane, bodhran player John-Joe Kelly, guitarist Ed Boyd and bassist Duncan Lyall. Lyall, it turns out, has flown from Edmonton to Calgary to New York to Belfast for this twenty-minute selection of good humour, happy harmonies and merry melodies, and displays not one touch of tiredness or nervousness. That's dedication for you.

 

Most beautiful of all are the airy Celtic tones, sometimes more mournful than at other times, of the evening's last performer, Mary – sister of Cara – Dillon. At gig's conclusion I remark to her famous sibling that hearing Mary on the Playhouse stage gave me a feeling akin to hearing Cara's debut album for the first time almost a decade ago; and that's high praise indeed.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 14

The first concert to be screened for TG4 and Fleadh Live, Highlands and Islands, begins with the arrival of The Campbells Of Greepe, who hail from the Isle Of Skye. The Guildhall is bathed in a purple glow as the Campbells sing excitedly, relying on their voices to carry a steady beat, which makes for addictive listening even with the tiniest instrumental accompaniment. So when back up strengthens thanks to piano and woodwind accompaniment, and later the dancing of John Sikorski, it's rather special. The knowing winks of the Campbells' four female singers and extremely in sync vocals tie in with their easy-going adaptability to the sometimes markedly abrupt tempo and spirit changes.

Award-winning Scottish duo Marit Fait and Rona Wilkie are what you would call a totally different kettle of fish. Fait's singing and bazouki playing is loaded with aggression, or so it seems. Once we discover that her first tune is a lullaby warning a baby to "beware of a bad man who will come and put (the child) in a bag and throw (him or her) in a river", everything becomes clear, and we can happily reflect on the sly amusement the tune offers. Equally amusing, though not as angry, are Wilkie’s lullaby about farm animals and her ode to the town of Kilmartin. Fait and Wilkie are an expressive and versatile pair that you can’t really take your eyes away from; and you don’t want to either. When the Campbells join the duo for the mournful finale of "Down To The River To Pray", we share the sadness they clearly feel at the end of the performance.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 15

A line-up of North American acts greet our eyes for Across The Atlantic at the Guildhall. First up to the bat is skilled fiddle player Liz Carroll, accompanied by Sean Og Graham's acoustic guitar and Trevor Hutchinson's double bass. On her first visit to Fleadh Cheoil in many years, the award-winning American-born violinist dazzles us with her levels of concentration, thoroughness, and chemistry with those both on and off the stage. If first song "Drumlasies" scores high marks for comprehensiveness, her second song is more notable for its quiet beauty, its smooth, flowing sentiment. The series of traditional Irish reels that follow cement her place in both the hearts and minds of the Guildhall audience, the city's populace looking as lost in the clapping of hands and the tapping of feet as Carroll and her accompanists are with their instruments. You do believe that the Guildhall floor would transform itself into a nineteenth century dance hall, were it possible.

Less string-dependent and far more vocal is Massachusetts' own Tim Eriksen, whose Ralph Stanley-esque voice echoes around the new old hall in a haunting, macabre, yet strangely resonant fashion. Hard though it is to "go nuts", as he says, at the sound of the rather morbid "O Death", one can only admire the skill of his violin and later banjo playing, and the strength of his voice. It is left for Eriksen's jokes to provide the levity in this short set: "I saw three signs when I came here: Derry, Doire and Londonderry. I asked a girl in (the hotel) reception, what was the proper way to pronounce this place, and she said 'Travelodge'!" Such humour no doubt endears him to the locals, but the important thing about this set is not so much Eriksen's pronounciation as his enunciation, which is crystal clear.

The talent really speaks for itself in the case of Nova Scotia musicians Troy MacGillivray, Andrea Beaton and Matt McIsaac, who literally take our breath away with their interlocking instrumentals. While the sound is not quite as rich as Liz Carroll's, it need not be; these driven and seemingly fearless musicians take to whatever instrument they pick up, be it fiddle, keyboard, bagpipes or whistle, like a duck to water, and, aided immeasurably by Beaton's Irish dancing skills, startlingly and harmoniously intertwine in a near glorious concoction. This fast-paced set is all about expecting the unexpected, encouraging even the normally calm Fleadh Live presenter Sile Ni Bhraonain to move to the music along with the audience.

Those unfortunate enough not to make the Cara Dillon concert taking place inside the city walls tonight – or those who are simply looking for something different – have a little treat waiting for them in the one-time venue for the Other Voices spectacular. Several hundred people, or so it seems, are packed into the Glassworks for Hidden Fermanagh, in an atmosphere more worthy of a lively pub than a music hall.

Led expertly by Cathal McConnell and featuring Brenda McCann, Pat & Valerie McManus, Francis Rasdale and Annette Owens, among others, the performance consists mainly of cockle-warming, high tempo reels, with a few reflective solos thrown in for strong measure. Rosie Stewart's low, worn and vulnerable tones evoke memories of the struggle to move on, while Catherine Nugent impresses with her expressiveness, particularly on "I Ran With An Irishman". Most melancholy and definitely most memorable of all is the sight of McConnell leading everyone – musicians and audience combined – in a performance of Cathie Ryan's "So Here's To You". It's the perfect finale to a fine evening in the company of musicians with such a friendly presence. Except it isn't – the amusing “The Second Hand Trousers I Bought In Belcoo” is still to follow, leaving us to make our way into the packed city centre streets in good humour...

SUNDAY, AUGUST 18

A series of stage performers – and, most notably, the Fidget Feet company's "Fire Birds" show – bring the curtain down on what has been an absolutely unreal week in Derry-Londonderry. And there's no better words I can use to sum it up than in this poem I’ve written…

I stood in the corner of Ebrington Square
While a jaw-dropping show took place up in the air.
We'd rarely seen anything quite so neat
As the awesome sight of the Fidget Feet.
Like Political Mother, but not quite as long
The singers and dancers put not one foot wrong
In an artistic, exciting feast for the eyes
That lit up the dark in the wet and black skies.
And my camera and notebook dropped right by my side
As I found myself totally filled up with pride.
The folk of the city were alive with belief.
This had warmed through their hearts and removed all their grief.
And if there’s one thing we’d say, oh yes, say right out loud:
It would be "Well done Derry - you did the Fleadh proud."

Read more...

FESTIVAL REVIEW: Glasgowbury 2013

Eagle's Rock rocks out for the last time in an atmosphere awash with excitement and emotion

The first thing I notice as I march up to the entrance of the final Glasgowbury is how much bigger the festival site is than when I first came, as a mere reveller, in 2008; already, I hear a punk band playing in a tent worthy of Glastonbury. No one is picking up hot food yet either; it's far too warm and far too early for that sort of thing.

What it's not too early for is some thumping music to shake us from our slumbers, and Sean Breslin and the Clameens provide it on the Small But Massive stage. Little more needs to be said about Pete Doherty's new favourite band, apart from that they seem much more comfortable on the big stage than I thought. Unlike Franz Ferdinand, or worse still, the Kaiser Chiefs, the Clameens successfully hark back to the mid-noughties without needing an intimate setting, a capacity crowd, or both, to thrive. Wisely drawing inspiration from the stage presence of The Libertines and the tantalising song-writing of Alex Turner, they please a sparse crowd and leave one keen to hear more from them.

Slowly but surely, they are finding a loyal following. Furlo, on the other hand, already have one, and are keen to go out with a bang on the G Sessions Stage. That they do – to an extent. It's still too soon to get lost in heartfelt sing-alongs and wild frolicking, but the talent of Jonny Everett and company is never in question, and their experimental electric funk lends itself nicely to the tent's acoustics.



Wild is what the aptly named Wyldling are, or at least try to be. Lead singer Jilly St John, a mistress of many poses, throws herself around the stage a la Natalie Bassingthwaighte (of Rogue Traders and Neighbours fame) while everyone attempts to take it all in. The party atmosphere St John and the band go for doesn't quite come off, but one does warm to her image; that of the tattooed rock goddess with a heart of gold. Clearly, St John is frustrated by the heat, which prevents her from being as perpetually crazy on stage as she wants to be, but strangely, this works to her advantage, giving the band's performance a cool and sensual edge. We could have a gothic Silhouette in the making here.

What is it about punk pop kids The Wonder Villains – siblings Eimear & Kieran Coyle, Cheylene Murphy and Ryan McGroarty – that grabs one's attention? It's quite simple, really. They're exuberant, fearless, synchronic and appreciative of their audience, with a multi-dimensional retro sound - 1980s, to be more precise - that excites the young and revitalizes nostalgists. They are a community group who know their strengths and play to them, giving each band member their moment in the spotlight, and connecting with the G Sessions Stage crowd in a uniquely friendly manner.

Next stop, the Eagle's Rock Stage, for Dungannon-based Alana Henderson and her brand of folky "string pop". With the help of a cello, and backing musicians including Silhouette's Connor Burnside, she uses the intimate setting to display what classical instruments can bring to the popular music arena. Most impressive of all, perhaps, is her voice; laced with a wailing bitterness that glides over the surface of our soul, it channels the likes of Tori Amos and Joni Mitchell, drawing the watchers in. The title track from her "Wax And Wane" EP, with its James Bond-ian opening riff and groovy rhythm, is most promising indeed.

Back at the Small But Massive stage, The Dead Presidents prove themselves to be everything Buena Vista Social Club should have been at the Venue last month; energising, funky, soulful and exciting. There hasn't been a louder cheer from revellers all day. It’s asking a lot for Runaway GO! to match up to this, but Fiona O'Kane's Sharleen Spiteri look, coupled with catchy tunes and passionate stage dynamics that hark back to Ash and The Killers at their finest, provide a great foreground to the lovely view of the Sperrins on this boiling day.

The Emerald Armada inspire excessive clapping with their high tempo rodeo folk at the Eagle's Rock Stage, before Pocket Billiards attempt to create a haven for lovers of ska and brass music at the G Sessions Stage. At first, the party atmosphere is genuinely electrifying, and their sound – Supergrass meets Madness, to these ears – positively charges the tent. Unfortunately, the tunes get rather samey and exhausting after a while; while there's a spark there, it's not really enough to warrant a fifty-minute set. Someone should have told them to cool it a little.

The superb keyboard playing of John McCullough and the even better guitar solos of Paul Casey are a neat tonic before the last shows of the day, and indeed, Glasgowbury as we know it. Rams' Pocket Radio will sign off at the G Sessions Stage, while The Answer will bring the final, FINAL curtain down at the Small But Massive stage. Either set is clearly going to be infused with energy, nostalgia and regret.

Being in the mood for the more intimate option, this writer chooses Rams' Pocket Radio at the G Sessions Stage. A series of sound delays frustrate everyone, to the point where Rams' leading man Pete McCauley asks the crowd if they’re still "with" him. Luckily, they are – and indeed, how could they not be, after a typically powerhouse performance of "Dieter Rams Has Got The Pocket Radios"? – but tonight McCauley and his ensemble will raise their standards to another level altogether, in a style worthy of the occasion.

If the craic isn't as "mighty" as McCauley wants it to be, it is certainly warm. The highlight of the set comes from the songs "with feeling": "Love Is A Bitter Thing" and "1 + 2", among them. All pack an emotional wallop that fills both songs and atmosphere with life and resonance. With a mini-orchestra of cello, trumpet, guitar and additional drums – yes, McCauley is both a drummer and pianist – behind him, as opposed to the couple of guitars and drums we once associated with backing Rams, McCauley feels arguably more isolated, but emerges stronger as both a musician and a personality. It is a thunderous, rich and emotive sound, a cut above the blandness of popular comparatives Keane.



It's also interesting to contrast McCauley's most recent approach to his music with that of his former band mate Shauna Tohill, aka Silhouette. I said in a previous review that McCauley and Tohill had a "near telepathic understanding", and when watching the Rams here, you can see that McCauley has rubbed off on Tohill. Silhouette may be funkier, more intimate and higher tempo than the Rams, but their music has the same positively energising effect on audiences and listeners. From one once-promising three piece act, two potential musical powerhouses have emerged. Once small, now massive.

And that, if anything, should be the ultimate legacy of Glasgowbury.

A festival that has both nurtured up and comers and solidified establishing talents in the eyes of countless people. An annual "had to be there" moment, a festival that will be much missed from the musical calendar, but has left us with countless memories and a potentially strong cultural legacy.

Farewell, Eagle's Rock. We've been extremely lucky to have you. Read more...