NORTHUMBRIAN MUSIC
NIGHTS
What we said about
Tabache
Tabache burns up the
stage
It's a good thing the emergency fire brigade in Allendale is always on alert, as there were several moments last Friday evening when it seemed the stage might be consumed in flames erupting like inextinguishable solar flares from the fiery pair of violins that is Tabache.
Aidan O'Rourke and Claire Mann, with charming and sensitive guitar backing from Ross Martin, capably assisted by sound engineer Fraser Moat, also provided a sweet, at times inescapably yearning sound, which proved a dramatic counterfoil to the driving jigs, reels and occasional strathspey that spiralled seemingly inexorably towards combustion. It's no wonder the group are featured on a Folkworks tour, and they certainly proved the point for promoters Northumbrian Music Nights.
When national champions take the stage, the audience has a right to expect the highest standards of musicianship -- Claire, AlI-Ireland Champion on flute and whistle, and finalist in fiddle, and Aidan, Scotland's Glenfiddich Fiddle Champion, lived up to all possible expectations. What might not have been expected was the drama and poise of two violins in such unison that even those funny buzzes a bouncing bow makes were perfectly tightly wrapped together.
Aidan also added a smooth patter of anecdotes and song titles throughout both sets, which included several of his original compositions, as well as revisiting classic grist from the competition mill. 'Leaving Peckham' elicited the tale of the hitch-hiker on the wrong side of the motorway, while 'The Quiet Place' with Claire's big yet soft flute evoked a gentle reminiscence of looking across the sea towards Mull, from the Isle of Seil. Then there was the jinx of the Slovenian chicken, the 'Waves of Rush', and 'Jack's Christening', each with their own wee tale. These are tunes which demonstrate the vibrant, exciting, risk-taking life in traditional music, inevitable tunes that will become classics over the next decade, to be treasured by Jack's grandchildren.
After the fire, the calm, and Claire's soft, unadorned voice held the audience in a simple spell, with a sad version of the Bay of Biscay, accompanied by the most sympathetic violin keening. "If I had all the gold and silver, and all the money in old Mexico, I would gladly give it all to the King of Heaven, for to catch a glimpse of my Will'am-0h." Aching, heart-breaking lyrics which seem to lose their living pathos as dried ink on the printed page. Claire projects her voice like her flute, in unaffected melody, but she showed, in 'The Newry Highwayman" that she could take it through its paces, with all the intricate phrasing this difficult piece demanded.
It's a good thing we got to catch our breath in these interludes, because with driving marches like 'The Duke of Fife's return to Deeside' or 'Dr. Gilbert's Reels', crescendoing waves of gladness seemed to overwhelm our senses, so that in the end there was nothing but flashing bows, and unquenchable music pouring out like a fiery flood.
