By John Fitzgerald
Folk singers Niamh Bury and Zoe Basha have performed at venues nationwide, telling evocative stories through music and song and never failing to pull at the heartstrings, with soulful renditions of trad, jazz, and their own compositions.
But Fennelly’s of Callan offered them a new experience. The courtyard had been set up for the gig and it was a bright summer evening. But curator Etaoin Holahan had allowed for the fickleness of our climate.
Seated under a protective canopy we applauded the two women, Zoe, who’s of French and American background, and Dubliner Niamh, as they arrived on stage.
But Zoe had no sooner started to belt out a tune on her guitar when the heavens opened. Rain lased the ground just inches away from where she stood… at times threatening to muffle her voice and instrumentation, but never succeeding.
She outdid the pelting precipitation with her songs of passionate, happy, and sadly unrequited love: Far from diminishing her act, the relentless pounding on the canopy and the long watery strings dangling and swaying to either side of her possibly enhanced the performance. It complemented the alluring harmony of voice and guitar.
The rain had eased a little when Niamh took the stage. The sun was shining again on the lush pink flora and an array of little birds that chirped and whistled behind her. It was an apt backdrop as she sang of ancient rebels and lost causes, women bemoaning absent husbands locked away for shooting the King’s deer, and philandering men who let women down badly with their betrayals and disloyal carry-on.
Her own songs elicited as much applause as the traditional ones that she rendered so hauntingly. The two singers showed mettle, as well as musical flair, as the rain returned, in between bursts of balmy sunlight and birdsong, to challenge their well-proven skills. The dark, raucous interruptions acted as a reminder that the show coincided with a helping of traditional Irish weather.
But it did nothing to dampen the joyous folksy atmosphere in the courtyard. Niamh got a special cheer when she sang a song she wrote after eating an apple a few years ago in Fennelly’s. It was the most delicious she’d ever tasted. She put pen to paper to compose an enchanting song of discovery.
The show ended even as the rain itself seemed to have given up its bid to thwart it. Nobody got too wet despite the best efforts of the downpour.
The fans love the gig. They were captivated throughout, sipping wine as angelic voices lulled or stirred them in the rustic auditorium.
The songs and music held their attention from beginning to end, and even a little dog could hardly take her eyes off the performance in the alternately sun-lit and rain-spattered courtyard.
