Is there a more affable personality on radio than John Creedon? Known as the RTE’s calming relief, he has a natural charisma that dims your worries within a few minutes. The Cork host possesses a remarkable affability, which is at the heart of his engaging new series, Creedon’s Musical Map of Ireland (RTÉ One, 6.30pm). This series explores the profound subject of Ireland’s bond with music, wherein Creedon doesn’t arrogate any form of self-importance and steers clear from the customary intensity often associated with TV arts programmes. Instead, he comes off as an enthusiast seeking knowledge rather than a stern expert, which adds to his charm.
However, his hosting style is marked with a lightheartedness, giving his show more of a casual exploration around Ireland rather than a comprehensive rundown of its musical history. You feel like you’re in a friendly conversation with John Creedon rather than sitting in a rapid-fire session about the country’s musical past.
His programme has a slight improvisational quality due to this reason. It kicks off in Galway, where Simon O’Dwyer from Ancient Music Ireland guides a group of musicians owning unique iron-age trumpets that eerily twist in the air, almost snake-like. A foreign visitor perceives it as a signal for the locals, possibly religious or military, to rally and safeguard Galway, which brings to mind an epic confrontation with brave defenders holding their ground at the Eyre Square’s Supermac’s.
Creedon’s journey continues to the Dingle Peninsula, where Billy Mag Fhloinn, a musical folklorist, blows a daunting metallic side-blown horn which bears a striking resemblance to something out of the Assassins’ Creed video game. Creedon’s next stop is the Ballyvourney Gaeltacht in west Cork, where Iarla Ó Lionáird, a traditional signer, reminisces about the historic cultural discomfort that impacted our viewpoint towards traditional music.
Ó Lionáird fondly remembers his college days in Dublin, where his fervour for traditional Irish music often perplexed the locals. “I personally identified as a sean-nós singer,” he fondly recollects, “and I eventually became weary of having to elucidate.”
However, perceptions have evolved over time, with the younger generation of classic musicians feeling no disgrace or humiliation in relation to Irish music. According to Ó Lionáird, these budding artists are free from the apprehensions of judgement that hindered previous generations in carving out fresh approaches for this time-honoured tradition.
Creedon next visits a performance where Sharon Shannon plays the button accordion, joined by Martin Hayes on the fiddle. Hayes elaborates on the differences between structured theatrical concerts and the conventional Irish “seisiún”. He states, “The seisiún is all about fostering communication between us.”
Our host, Creedon, also has an engaging chat with Mike Scott of The Waterboys, hailing from Scotland. Scott’s seminal album, Fisherman’s Blues, is effectively a love letter to traditional Irish music. According to Scott, Ireland is the “land of his soul”. He declares, “This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
Both Scott and the other participants demonstrate immense passion for Irish music. Creedon, in the meantime, delivers a contented cheerfulness. His latest series appears more meandering than a thorough investigation. Nevertheless, despite Creedon’s Musical Map of Ireland being somewhat scattered, it still results in delightfully comfortable viewing. Even though RTÉ often get things wrong, this programme is quality, comforting television.