Ballydesmond

So I went to my second Irish music session at the Tranzac Club last week, and this time I ACTUALLY PLAYED. (!) (For who missed it, here's the report from My First Session.)

Taking the advice of Denis, a very nice banjo player I met last time, I showed up an hour earlier this time and was thus able to attend the "slow session," which I figured would be geared toward beginners and those wishing to learn new tunes.

I wasn't exactly sure to expect. When I arrived, two younger women were just taking off their coats and chatting. Turns out they were both flute-players (the term "flautist" somehow seems too snooty in the Irish music setting), and one also played whistle. Hoping that they might be newbies like me, I asked them how long they had been playing. Their answer: several YEARS. So much for the slow session being for beginners. :-) One of them had a big binder of music with her.

Hey wait. She had SHEET MUSIC! So written music wasn't as forbidden as I had originally assumed, or at least not at this session. The flute player also told me about a Black Book that the Tranzac session people self-published, containing some of the tunes they frequently play.

When Denis arrived, he asked me if I brought my whistle this time. (I had actually brought it last time, but left it in my knapsack because I was terrified that someone might actually ask me to play it.)

"Er...yes," I admitted. "Don't know if I'll be brave enough to play it, though." He just smiled.

I found myself sitting beside an older and obviously highly experienced whistle player during the slow session. He was very friendly and was gracious about answering newbie questions I had about tuning certain types of whistles and tunes in general. He was playing a custom-made black whistle which is apparently no longer generally available.

Like the flute player, the whistle player told me about the Black Book, which is available for $10. I'm supposed to get my copy at the first session in the New Year, yay!

As we chatted, another player in the circle offered me a sheet of paper printed on both sides with tunes: Thrush In The Straw, The Maid In The Meadow, The Green Fields of America, and three polkas: Maurice Manley's (Ballydesmond=2), Ballydesmond, Egans. From doing research online, I know that some session players sneer at those that "read dots," so I was pretty happy. My goal is to memorize these tunes next.

During the slow session, we went through some of the tunes on the sheet. I read the music and played along, or at least tried to. Though the speed was certainly slower than the usual session pace, I found it pretty challenging to sightread so quickly. But inside, I felt like cheering...at least I was PLAYING!

Once the slow session eased into the regular session and more musicians arrived, I set my whistle aside and just listened. They actually did play one tune (Cooley's Reel) that I had learned...but I only recognized it when it was nearly over because it was being played about a zillion times faster than I had been practising it.

Most of the session was what filkers call "chaos style" in that pretty much anyone could leap in at anytime, but at one point the circle turned "bardic" in that the lead went to each person around the circle, one at a time.

When it got to me, I passed. But then Denis asked, "Are you sure there's nothing you'd like to play, Debbie?" One of the flute-players I had chatted with earlier gave an encouraging cheer, and I realized that as nervous as I was, I couldn't and shouldn't pass up the opportunity.

Not sure if anyone would know the tunes I'd learned on my own, I asked if it was all right if we played one of the tunes we'd been practising in the slow session. Hm, but which one?

"You did fine with the polkas," whispered the whistle player beside me. "How about those?"

They wanted me to set the pace, but I was too nervous so asked the whistle player to help me. And so together, we launched into Maurice Manley's Ballydesmond. My hands were shaking and I stumbled a lot the first few bars, but then the music caught me up, and the fact that I was here PLAYING MY WHISTLE AT A SESSION. By the time the tune wound to a close, I had a silly smile plastered over my face; quite the challenge, really, trying to play whistle while smiling.

The smile lasted all the way home. I'm sure the other people on the subway must have thought me a bit off my gourd.

Thank you so much, Mary Bertke, for setting up that amazing session at OVFF! I'm definitely hooked.

And I can't wait until the next session. :-)

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Scrooge moment

Since my mother died and especially since my brother and his wife died, Christmas has never been the greatest time of the year for me.

The insistent Christmas carols piped into shopping malls, the glitter and party atmosphere, the increased barrage of BUYBUYBUY...I get cranky, resentful, impatient of the crowds. Deep down, I know that part of this Scroogelike attitude is because of the ache left behind by personal losses, bittersweet memories of past holiday seasons, but this knowledge doesn't help.

A few days ago, I was overcome by a particular bad Scrooge attack. I was rushing around in the subway system, loaded down with bags, overheated in my coat, tired of being pushed around by other equally impatient and overloaded holiday shoppers.

I almost lost it while trying to leave a packed subway car at Yonge-Bloor, one of the busiest subway stations in the Toronto system; instead of standing aside and letting passengers off, people were crowded around the doors, jostling to be the first to get on. I had to squeeze my way out and nearly had one of my bags ripped in the process. I was furious, tired, impatient, crabby, and I could feel a tension headache building up.

So I decided to take a time-out.

Dumping my bags beside a bench against the wall on the platform, I sat down, took off my coat, took some long, deep breaths. As my headache eased off, I watched each train roar into the station, screech to a halt, belch its seething mass of humanity onto the platform, ingest new passengers, leave.

Between trains and after each load of passengers had left the platform, there was a remarkable silence that lasted about thirty seconds before the next train pulled in. And in that silence, I could hear someone playing Christmas carols on what sounded like a bamboo flute.

The performer was good, the clear tone of his or her music echoing in the station, a small island of tranquility in the holiday season chaos. I felt myself relaxing, forgetting about my sore feet and stresses.

And when the next load of passengers exploded onto the platform, I began noticing other things. Like the happy couple holding hands who could barely take their eyes off one another. Like the tired-looking woman with circles under her eyes, clutching a damp tissue; she had obviously been crying. Like the elderly man who walked like someone much younger, holding a bouquet of flowers, a twinkle in his eye. Like the gaunt-eyed man with his hands shoved deep in his pockets and head down, barely aware of his surroundings.

Every one of these people had a story, people they cared about, and (I hoped) people who cared about them. I suddenly felt a rush of affection for these strangers, most of whom I would never see again, and found myself hoping for each one's safety and happiness, and that they would each find a measure of peace.

Yes, I know I'll probably go back to feeling crabby and impatient in the hot and noisy crowds again, and that Christmas will likely never be my favourite time of year.

But next time I have a Scrooge moment, I'd like to think I'll remember that flute player and those people on the subway platform, and make my way to a better place. 

Return of the King, Turkish chicken, and penny whistle lessons

Xmas ornament made by a niece years ago.

So of course the first thing I did this morning was to buy the DVD of the Special Extended Version of Return of the King. I've promised Jeff not to open it until tonight, when he, Craig and Ray arrive for a ROTK evening. I'm in the mood to cook, too, so am going to make Chicken Breasts with Yogurt, Garlic & Coriander (Turkish recipe I got from my friend Justin's mom), coconut ginger rice, and Sugar Snaps in Lemon Butter (Moosewood recipe). Ray's bringing dessert, and I'm also going have some chocolate-dipped strawberries around for munching on during the movie.

Geez, I am SO hyped. :-)

My friends Luisa and Allison are highly amused, of course, since five years ago I hadn't yet even READ Lord of the Rings. And now I'm a gibbering fangirl breathing steam on the package of our spankin' new Collector's DVD Return of the King Extended Version Gift Set, gloating over my mini Minas Tirith. Go figure, eh?

Had a great evening with Luisa and Reid last night at Milestones. One of the wonderful things about our friendship with them is that all four of us are good friends, making it much more fun to do couplestuff. Just wished we lived closer.

Session tunes update (tunes I've learned so far):
The Swallow Tail, The Donegal Reel, The Galway Rambler, Cooley's Reel, The Boyne Hunt, The Sligo Maid, Drowsy Maggie, Ms. McLeod's Reel, The Green Groves Of Erin, The Bank of Ireland, The Earl's Chair. Next project: The Fermoy Lassies.



After learning The Fermoy Lassies, I'm not going to learn any more new tunes until I have the 13 tunes I know so far learned so well that I can play along with the fast version of my CD recording without hesitation. I figure I'm already going to be way nervous playing with people, so I'm better off knowing fewer tunes at first but knowing them really, really well.

AND I'm going to take some penny whistle lessons every other week, starting in January! Through the Tranzac session, I was introduced to a whistle-player named Karen Light. It's been a while since I've taken formal lessons of any sort (I took Celtic harp lessons in Philly for six months a few years ago) and I'm pretty excited.

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First Irish session at the Tranzac

So I attended my first Irish session at the Tranzac last night!

As I've mentioned in earlier Blatherings, I enjoyed the informal Celtic/Irish session at OVFF at the end of October so much that I resolved to learn more about the tradition as well as how to eventually be a more active participant at future sessions.

So I did some research online, talked to experienced session-types in message boards (and Blatherchat - thanks, Mary & Bill!), got some coaching from Ju Honisch and Dave Clement, started learning tunes. Found some sessions in Toronto.

I was pretty nervous when I arrived at the Tranzac Club last night. I had no idea what to expect and didn't know anyone there. It turns out that the Tranzac is actually a community hall; the bar is only one small room in the building with several function spaces. Snooping around, I heard what definitely sounded like Irish session music from behind closed doors in one of the rooms.

Geez, what do I do now? I had assumed the session would be in a pub, open to the public, and figured I could hide in the corner and just listen without being noticed.

Rather than knock and interrupt the session, I decided to just go in. At first glance, the session looked a LOT like a typical filk circle. There were about 15-20 people in a small room, all seated on chairs in a circle. Unlike a filk circle, however, they ALL had instruments, and there was no singing. I saw fiddles, different types of pipes, whistles, flutes, a guitar, concertinas and accordions.

Everyone looked at me as the door closed behind me (I imagined them all thinking, "Who the HELL is she??"), and I realized there were no more chairs. I asked a woman with an accordion whether it would be ok if I brought in another chair. She gave an uncertain smile and nodded, so I went out and got one from one of the other rooms.

I got settled and started listening to the music, relieved that no one had tried kicking me out. At least not yet.

Once I got over my nervousness about whether I'd be welcome or not, I relaxed and enjoyed the music. Which was WONDERFUL. I think I had a silly smile plastered over my face for most of the time I was there; it was impossible not to be caught up in the atmosphere, the friendly trading of tunes, musical fellowship, support and encouragement of one another.

Reminded me a great deal of a good filk circle, in fact. :-)

They didn't play any of the tunes I've learned so far, but I did recognize one or two others. Occasionally someone would call out a title, and I'd write it down in hopes of eventually learning it myself. Seeing this, a fiddle player sitting beside me passed me a piece of paper on which she had written some other song titles.

"In case you're curious about what we've played so far," she whispered.

Yay, I thought.

Although a new tune began as soon as the previous ended, I noticed that some people got in quick snatches of conversation in the transition periods. In that way, I got to talk a bit with the accordion woman who had told me it was ok to bring in another chair. She was extremely friendly and encouraging; I suspect that at first, people in the room thought I might be someone wandering in from the nearby pub area to just listen. Although the session is obviously welcoming to newcomers, I get the impression it's not open to the general public. Understandable, with the limited space.

Anyway, the accordion woman gave me a flyer about an Irish music weekend at the Tranzac next month. Workshops include instruction on uilleann pipes, fiddle, tin whistle, flute, and accordion as well as song and dance. How very cool; I'm definitely interested in attending.

I also chatted with a very nice fellow who is in charge of the mailing list for the group. He told me about the session schedule (this month the schedule is somewhat different because of the holiday season), and that if I show up an hour earlier before the regular session, there was a slow session for beginners ("slow sessions" are sessions where tunes are played at a slower speed).

"Is there a membership fee?" I asked.

"No," he said but then as an afterthought, he added with a twinkle in his eye, "Just buy me all the beer I want!"

:-D

I think I'm going to really enjoy this, and plan to attend the Tranzac sessions from now on. And eventually, I'm hoping to actually start PLAYING as well. :-)

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adventures in cooking

Thanks to Tom Smith and Allison Durno for the inspiration for this strip.
Part of My Life In A Nutshell.
Those who don't know Rosie might want to check out Waiting For Frodo.

Despite the bad weather yesterday, I was overcome by a craving for the Chevre Noir I had discovered a couple of weeks ago and decided to visit St. Lawrence Market in search of it. Following a tip posted by my friend Kristen, I found it at Chris' Cheesemongers / Alex Farm Products. Bought a small block of 2-year-old Le Chevre Noir for about $17. Whoa, pricey. But I figure by shaving bits off over the next couple weeks, I can make it last. It even came with a tiny rolled-up certificate in French. My French isn't the greatest, but it seems to be an enthusiastic gushing of praise for the cheese and the company.

Really enjoyed browsing the different types of cheese, got into a conversation with one of the Cheese Guys. I ended up buying a very tiny wedge of Cacio Di Fossa Pecorino after trying a sample sliver in the cheese shop; the Cheese Guy said they only get it from time to time, and said that if I liked Chevre Noir, I might like this as well. Oh YUMMM, he was definitely right. And ahem, of course I remembered to SUCK my cheese when trying the sliver. Also bought some Apple Smoked Cheddar, which both Jeff and I like.


Thanks to Mary Bertke for inspiring this particular strip.


I'm having fun trying new recipes from my Moosewood Restaurant Low-Fat Favorites. One reason I know I'll never be a good cook is because I don't like repeating recipes that often. It's much more interesting to always try new ones! It means I'll probably never really improve, but cooking's more fun that way.

Last night I made Mushroom Sesame Tofu Stew, with a loaf of fresh-baked rye bread I bought at the market. I was pretty happy with how it turned out, and I have leftovers for lunches this week, yay! I love making stews because they're usually pretty straightforward: just chop a bunch of stuff and throw it in a pot. I'm not a vegetarian, but I've been enjoying experimenting more with non-meat recipes.

A POLL: If you're a cook, do you prefer to stick to known recipes (written or not), or do you enjoy trying new ones? Does a dish name like "Mushroom Sesame Tofu Stew" gross you out or intrigue you?

Also, does anyone have a good recipe for tabouleh?

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