RADIO REVIEW:THESE DAYS it is not advisable to listen to the radio if you want to get away from it all. The misery of the real world is exacerbated by talk radio and distilled into increasingly alarming sound bites. But there is a welcome hour of escapism to be had on Céilí House: The Archives(RTÉ Radio One, Saturdays), which has been running for a few weeks now. Traipsing down memory lane last Saturday night was a joy, and a refreshing change from pop music.
Céilí Housecelebrated the late fiddle and accordion player Paddy O'Brien, born in Newtown in 1922. The show played O'Brien's original audition recordings made for Raidió Éireann in 1951, and rare material made by Ciarán Mac Mathúna in 1959 with the Bridge Céilí Band.
O'Brien's daughter Eibhlin was on to talk about her new music book, The Definitive Collection of the Music of Paddy O'Brien(1922-1991). Presenter Kieran Hanrahan played some clips, including Bonnie Kate, recorded in Dublin many years go with Eileen Lane and Sean Maguire.
O’Brien heard it himself in the most unexpected place. “Daddy emigrated to America in January of 1954,” his daughter said. “He was married to my mother and they were walking down New York, and they heard music coming out of a record shop and my mother said, ‘That’s you playing, Paddy.’ He told her she was losing her head. And they went into the record shop and, sure enough, the recording was released in America.”
Of her musical heritage (her grandfather Dinny led the Bridge Céilí Band), she added, "I always felt under pressure . . . a lot was expected of you." She could do worse than listen to Mark Tully's excellent series Something Understood(BBC Radio 4, Sundays) for consolation. This week he explored the nature of great talent and genius. "Was it given to them at birth or did they have to cultivate it with hard work?" Tully asked. William Hogarth said, "I know no such thing as genius – genius is nothing but labour and diligence." Many of Franz Schubert's works were not published during his lifetime, Tully said, and opinion is divided on whether Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was a child prodigy; believe it or not, some believe his best work was published after 20 long years of composing. There's hope for the rest of us, then.
On Monday's Moncrieff(Newstalk 106-108, weekdays) wily reporter Henry McKean jumped a bus in west Cork. He was halfway to paradise, but there was no escaping the real world here either. The bus is part of the West Cork Rural Transport scheme, which might face cancellation by the Government's An Bord Snip Nua. The service carries more than 40,000 passengers a year.
In Glengarriff, an animated Delia O’Sullivan would not let the bus route go gently into that good night. Making use of her precious airtime, she said, “Only for this service, half the people would be found dead in their homes. It saves us from going mad. We’d be talking to ourselves at home.” McKean said his mission was to see “if they could survive without it.” Well, he got his answer.
On Tuesday's Today(RTÉ Radio One, weekdays) there was more transport talk. Fine Gael's Alan Shatter was hopping mad over the government's plan to spend €230,000 to pull up the car park at Leinster House: "It's an example of midsummer madness." Such verbosity can only be expected from a man who describes himself on his own website as a politician "with the courage to tell the truth about issues even when the truth hurts!" (That's his exclamation mark, by the way.) Fianna Fáil's Martin Mansergh was huffing and puffing on his mobile, in a state of flustered self-importance that makes great radio and simultaneously does his long-winded job title justice.
(He is, after all, Minister of State at the Departments of Finance, including special responsibility for the Office of Public Works, and Arts, Sport and Tourism, with special responsibility for the Arts.) There was an ill wind blowing down the phone line. It sounded like he was on his way to the bus stop. “I’d love to see Alan Shatter travelling by public transport like many of his colleagues to Leinster House,” said Mansergh. Actually, Shatter told him, “I’m very happy taking the Luas.”
Like two people after the same parking space, neither Shatter nor Mansergh would budge an inch. But, unlike some residents of West Cork, at least they have a public transport system that they can rely on.