Some years back, when both of my parents were still among the living and my offspring were still of tender years, we held a family get-together. My son showcased his skill with the recorder at this event. Upon completion of the rendition, my father requested to examine the instrument and proceeded to perform a lively reel as we all watched in dumbstruck admiration. It can be quite challenging being the child of an accomplished musician.
During his youth in rural Ireland, it was a common practice for young groups to tour various homes, offering their musical talents. My father was part of such a band. I might have seen him play the tin whistle and dabble with the harmonica in my own childhood, but never had I seen him play the recorder. Furthermore, his musical prowess was something I’d long since forgotten, until that spirited performance on the recorder that astounded us all.
My mother, like my father, hailed from a farm in Westmeath. My only surviving grandparent during my childhood was Granny, my mother’s mother. We often journeyed from Dublin to visit the farm which was home to cows, pigs, sheep, cats, a draft horse, a dog and various poultry. Granny held the reins at home, managing the cooking, baking, and even skillful execution of chickens while basking in the farmyard sun. Legend has it she could also play the accordion, though this was something I never saw. My older siblings recall her sitting on a small stool outside the house on some evenings, playing accordion tunes beneath the vast open sky. I like to think it was her way of expressing gratitude and joy.
Just like any other human trait, having an affinity and appreciation for music is engraved in us through evolution. In my case, this has led to a lasting affection towards music, alongside a natural ability for singing and playing an instrument – even if it means being tonally oblivious while strumming my guitar. There was a time during my teenage years when I purchased an inexpensive guitar and songbooks of Dylan and Bowie music. My dear parents, my father and my mother who had a voice like a nightingale, never once bellowed up the stairs, expressing annoyance by my music.
Eventually, my cantankerous musical endeavours were silenced. This absence of my musical rendition may be a relief for numerous people, yet the concept of such a common circumstance can indeed be melancholic. An engrossing book I encountered recently, The Musical Human authored by Michael Spitzer, expanded on the idea that music and rhythm are intrinsically aligned with our bipedal ambulations, coupled with various other factors. Triggered by this were recollections of participating in marches within the local defence reserve service – Fórsa Cosanta Áitiúil or FCA. Despite being underage, I was part of the regiment marching down country paths during our first summer camping trip in Gormanston, Co Meath. Accompanying our marches was a ribald chant, mimicking the conversation between two elderly women bedding down, a form of group singing frequent among nomadic tribes.
The proposition from Spitzer, about the interrelation between music and work, vividly stirred a memory of my undergraduate days where I spent a summer working at Larry Goodman’s meat establishment located in Ballymun in Dublin. The stirring rhythm chanted by the slayers as the motorized pulley began operating and slaughtering commenced is something that is hard to forget. We are indeed a unique species.
Even though music is deeply ingrained in human behaviour, it is peculiar to note how in our society spontaneous collective making of music, be it inspirational, devoted, celebrational, humorous, or for solace, has been compartmentalised instead of being an everyday norm. Personally, I partake in musical festivities once a year, during Christmas when in tradition, we host a stew and carol evening. Of late, my partner, her sister and her partner and I occasionally gather for a musical session with bottles of wine and Dylan song books in one hand and guitars in the other. It always ends with a lingering question as to why I don’t indulge in it frequently.