Nov

Have You a Party Piece?

by Joyce McGreevy on November 14, 2016

Kiaran O'Donnell and Rick Chelew play guitar at a small gathering, carrying on the Irish tradition of the party piece, sharing songs, stories, and poems. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Sharing our gifts turns strangers into friends; Kiaran O’Donnell and Rick Chelew had just met.
© Joyce McGreevy

What an Irish Tradition
Can Teach Us Today

It was known as the party piece, a “bit of an auld song” or spoken word. Would we have called it an Irish tradition? Probably not. As students in Galway, sharing songs, stories, and poems was just something we did on Saturday nights.

But the tradition goes back centuries, notes Irish historian P.W. Joyce. Ancient Irish sagas depict hospitality to travelers as a social virtue, and guests reciprocated with music or spoken word. “Like the Homeric Greeks, the Irish were excessively fond of hearing tales and poetry recited . . . Every intelligent person was expected to know a reasonable number.”

Thus it continued, into my “ancient” college days. Go on now, give us your party piece, friends would say as we lingered after one-burner suppers served on coffee tables. “Mountains of Mourne” was a favorite.

Musicians at a jam session in pub in Galway, Ireland reflect the Irish tradition of the party piece, sharing songs, stories, and poems. (Image by Damián Bakarcic)

If you visit Ireland, bring along a song or a story to share.
“Jam Session in Galway Pub, Ireland” by Damián Bakarcic, CC-BY-NC-4.0

A Poem

Reciting a poem went over well, too. Back then, practically everyone I knew, student or not, had a few verses filed away in the old memory bank. Had I the heavens embroidered cloths . . .

It wasn’t like you hunkered down at a desk to memorize them, mind. You’d simply hear something and if it touched a chord, you’d hold onto it, the way a magpie works shiny foil into its bower.

Hikers on a scenic road in Ireland become a metaphor for the Irish tradition of sharing stories, songs, and poems. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Life’s rockiest road is navigable when we share it in stories, songs, and poems.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Story

Some party pieces were stories. The best were scraps of real experience that had been well embellished. Lace-edged in mystery. Beribboned with bright hyperbole. The beadwork of everyday dialogue polished into priceless gems with every retelling.

Oh, you could cut yourself on that wit, someone would say. It’s the way he tells ’em, someone would chime in.

Three women taking tea and trading stories at Glebe Gardens Café, Co. Cork, reflect the Irish tradition of the party piece, sharing stories, songs, and poems. (Image © Rick Chelew)

Sharing anecdotes and laughter at Glebe Gardens Café, Co. Cork.
© Rick Chelew

A Moment

Here’s what a party piece was not about: Narcissism.

Your moment would not go viral. The technology that transformed selves into selfies was still decades away. We didn’t take photos or make recordings.

As student renters, we didn’t even have landline telephones.

Yet we always knew where the gatherings were. The “sociable” network functioned by way of knocks at the door, the tea kettle kept at the ready for impromptu visits and invitations.

A decorative teapot in Galway, Ireland symbolizes the Irish tradition of the party piece, sharing songs, stories, and poems. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A few cups of tea can flower into a gathering.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Welcome

Meanwhile, back at the party, a newcomer from the States might hesitate on being asked to sing.

Sure, it doesn’t matter if you’ve a voice like an old crow, someone would tell her. We’ll all join in, another might add encouragingly.

Oh, I see: Sharing a party piece wasn’t about competing to see who was the most talented. It was about willingness to participate, to add some ingredient of your own to the stone soup of the evening.

A "face in the crowd" in Dublin, Ireland and a gift-wrapped building evoke the need for the Irish tradition of the party piece, sharing songs, stories, and poems. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Sharing the gift of our experience creates connection.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Joy

So when someone began to sing “My Lagan Love” or “Bye, Bye, Blackbird,” it didn’t matter a whit if there was more rasp than lilt. The melody came through clearly via memories the singer stirred in us.

The greater joy was in being there together, none of us ready yet to call it a night.

A glowing fireplace in Dublin, Ireland sets the scene for the Irish tradition of the party piece, sharing songs, stories, and poems. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A cozy fireplace in Dublin sets the scene for music and storytelling.
© Joyce McGreevy

Your Presence Is Requested

Today, even amid the multi-modal distractions that are as ubiquitous in Ireland as everywhere else on the planet, the Irish tradition of the party piece lives on.

A lot of the sharing now finds its way online. But at heart it’s still about presence—passing the tokens of our shared humanity from person to person.

Not fame. Not showing off. Not monetizing an experience. But about giving whatever you’ve got and showing up to honor what others give, too, be it heartfelt or hilarious, wise or whimsical.

A dog eyeing treats in a Dublin parlor evokes the Irish tradition of the party piece, sharing songs, stories, and poems, including shaggy dog stories. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A shaggy dog story makes a great party piece.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Wish

So here is my wish for you: One evening may you find yourself in a home where musical instruments are as much a part of the furnishings as crockery and sofa cushions. May there be apple tart and good company.

A homemade apple tart in Galway goes well with the Irish tradition of the party piece, sharing songs, stories, and poems. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Our gifts are sweetest when they are shared.
© Joyce McGreevy

At some point, the piano or fiddle will sound, and the concertina and tin whistle will come out of their cases. But nobody’s forming a band, only forging a bond.

The tales begin telling themselves. The poems, memories, and songs emerge, like shy ponies crossing a field.

Two friendly Irish horses symbolize subtle aspects of the Irish tradition of the party piece, sharing songs, stories, and poems. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

They have come gladly out of the willows/To welcome my friend and me…
From James Wright’s poem “A Blessing”
© Joyce McGreevy

Somebody volunteers a song about love, by turns joyful and poignant. When they falter—whether from forgetting the words, or remembering the past—a neighboring singer takes up the thread.

Kieran O'Donnell and Rick Chelew play guitar together, carrying on the Irish tradition of sharing songs, stories, and poems. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Our individual songs, stories, and poems share a common chord.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Gathering

The song goes around and around, until every voice has been gathered in. There’s room for everyone.

Call it an Irish tradition, though we were never so formal as all that. We were just doing our party pieces. Finding our human commonalities by sharing songs, stories, and poems. What party piece might you share when next you gather with family, friends, and friends-to-be?

Read the cited poems in their entirety here and here.

Comment on this post below.

Joyce McGreevy 13 Comments

Cultural Heritage & Traditions/Ireland/Language & Culture

Sep

World Photography: The Art of the Neighborhood

by Meredith Mullins on September 12, 2016

Man from Dublin street photography series by Eamonn Doyle. (Image © Eamonn Doyle.)

Untitled, from the i series
© Eamonn Doyle/Courtesy Michael Hoppen Gallery

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Eamonn Doyle’s Dublin Streets

Sometimes the sets and characters of a neighborhood become just a background track for daily life. The peripherals fade from view. Familiar details lose their luster. People pass unseen.

The act of creating through a camera lens can bring a neighborhood back into focus.

That’s exactly what happened when Irish photographer Eamonn Doyle took camera in hand after a 20-year hiatus.

He rediscovered his home turf—capturing the urban landscape of North Dublin within a half-mile radius of his house, often finding his subjects within just 10 meters of his front door.

He stripped scenes to their essence and brought himself—and those who spend time with his photographs—inside the pulse of Parnell and O’Connell streets.

Panel of Eamonn Doyle's exhibit at Rencontres d'Arles, a revelation for world photography. (Image © Meredith Mullins/Exhibit photographs © Eamonn Doyle.)

A reverence for the Parnell Street elders
© Meredith Mullins/Exhibit Photographs © Eamonn Doyle

The result was a trilogy of books (i, ON, and End.) and an exhibit at this year’s Rencontres d’Arles that takes hold of the viewer in an unshakeable way.

No Manifestos

Eamonn Doyle at the Rencontres d'Arles, making a difference in world photography. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Eamonn Doyle at the Rencontres d’Arles
© Meredith Mullins

Presenting one of the best shows of the festival, Doyle lands with force on the stage of world photography.

He makes no claims about his images. He doesn’t like labels. The photographs could be called landscapes of the city, fleeting portraits, or a unique form of street photography as seen through only his eyes.

He has no manifesto or intellectual philosophy. He just makes pictures—pictures of passing strangers on their individual journeys.

Welcome to the neighborhood.

The i Series: The Respected Elders

The i series features the local elders—those characters who have worn a familiar path in the neighborhood streets.

Doyle is drawn to solitary figures. He takes this isolation further by working to eliminate what he calls the “visual noise of the streets.” He shoots on Monday mornings, after the street cleaners have removed trash and grime and captures his subjects in the simplest graphics of a setting.

“I shot from above, mostly, and tried to flatten the figures into the pavements and roads,” Eamonn said of the i series. As a result, the subjects often seem weighed down, as if being looked at by the burden of life itself.

Woman with red gloves from Eamonn Doyle's i series, a revelation for world photography. (Image © Eamonn Doyle.)

Untitled, from the i series
© Eamonn Doyle/Courtesy Michael Hoppen Gallery

Their faces are usually turned away, affirming their anonymity—their status as strangers. However, what is not shown is important.

As Eamonn explains, “I want the viewer to look elsewhere, to find cues other than the obvious ones, to look harder and, if need be, to infer the missing faces.”

The viewer must act . . . must notice these usually unnoticed souls—the textures, colors, and style of their clothes; their few cherished possessions; their pace, posture, and gestures—their journey.

Strangers on a Dublin street, from Eamonn Doyle's ON series, a revelation for world photography. (Image © Eamonn Doyle.)

Untitled, from the ON series
© Eamonn Doyle/Courtesy Michael Hoppen Gallery

The ON Series: The Changing Cityscape

The second segment of the trilogy shows a neighborhood changing dramatically in mood and tense. We, as viewers, enter a raw and vibrant present.

Where the elders were flattened into the scene, the ON subjects leap from the photographs in strong black-and-white, low-angled power.

Here, we see the strangers’ faces, movement, energy, and the context of their lives.

Black man from low angle, from Eamonn Doyle's ON series, a revelation for world photography. (Image © Eamonn Doyle.)

Untitled, from the ON series
© Eamonn Doyle/Courtesy Michael Hoppen Gallery

The neighborhood is dynamic, exploding in a multicultural mix of activity. Immigrants from West Africa, China, and Eastern Europe clash with the sharp edges and angles of the city.

And we begin to understand the text that fueled Doyle’s theme for this series.

You must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on.
—Samuel Beckett, The Unnameable

The End. Series: The Loop of Life

In the third segment of the trilogy, we see the neighborhood in bits and pieces—a mosaic of lines, forms, textures, and inhabitants—that we somehow know are destined to have impact on each other.

Diptych from Eamonn Doyle's End. series, a revelation for world photography. (Image © Eamonn Doyle.)

Untitled, from the End. series
© Eamonn Doyle/Courtesy Michael Hoppen Gallery

This series is not just a collaboration with fragments of life. It is an artistic collaboration, with Doyle providing the photographic vision, Niall Sweeney providing design and illustration, and David Donohoe replacing the usual city sounds with a haunting, looping electronic track.

Eamonn Doyle exhibit at Rencontres d'Arles, a revelation for world photography. (Image © Meredith Mullins/Exhibit photographs © Eamonn Doyle.)

Strangers in a strange Dublinland
© Meredith Mullins/Exhibit Photographs © Eamonn Doyle

Immersed in the Neighborhood at Rencontres d’Arles

End., as well as i and ON, came together this year in the dramatic installation at the Rencontres d’Arles photography festival in southern France—a revelation for world photography.

For me, the “Oh, I See” moment came as soon as I entered the darkened Espace Van Gogh.

Here, Doyle, Sweeney, and Donohoe have recreated Doyle’s North Dublin neighborhood pulsing with life—an integration of past, present, and future that made the theme of passing time clear on so many different levels.

Visitor at Eamonn Doyle's exhibit at Rencontres d'Arles, a revelation for world photography. (Image © Meredith Mullins. Photographs © Eamonn Doyle.)

Stepping into Dublin streets at the Rencontres d’Arles
© Meredith Mullins/Exhibit Photographs © Eamonn Doyle

The design of the installation transported me to the streets, but I was not as hurried as the photographic subjects. I paused and let the city find its rhythm, much as Doyle must have—picking out the most interesting characters and studying them as they passed by unaware that anyone is watching.

Windows to the streets of Dublin
© Meredith Mullins/Exhibit Photographs © Eamonn Doyle

The physicality and scale of the panels lent themselves to the energy of a city, and the well-placed “windows” in the grids allowed a view beyond that first glimpse of life.

When a connection was made, the eyes of the strangers on the walls were penetrating, following me whichever way I walked.

The whole experience was mesmerizing.

Woman in scarf in Eamonn Doyle's exhibit at the Rencontres d'Arles, a revelation for world photography. (Photo © Meredith Mullins/Exhibit Photo © Eamonn Doyle.)

The eyes of this Dublin stranger follow you long after you leave.
© Meredith Mullins/Exhibit Photograph © Eamonn Doyle

Most of all, I was inspired to reconnect with my own neighborhood—to slow down and take a closer look at the fleeting human drama that is always present—and to say, with the rest of the world, “I’ll go on.”

Visit Eamonn Doyle’s Exhibit in the Espace Van Gogh at the Rencontres d’Arles in Arles, France, until September 25. Find more of Doyle’s work on his website and at the Michael Hoppen Gallery in London.

Find more information on the Rencontres d’Arles here.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Meredith Mullins 4 Comments

Ireland/The World's Photography

Jul

First, Dare to Be Wild

by Joyce McGreevy on July 25, 2016

The Art of Gardening to Save the World

A close-up prairie flower in Chicago's Lurie Garden reflects the trend toward wild gardening. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Here’s what happens when landscape designers dare to be wild. Lavender hyssop, maroon prairie smoke, blue quamash, and frothy calamint run rampant in all directions. The work of creative problem solvers, wild gardening centers you in the heart of nature.

Native spiderwort flourish in Chicago's Lurie Garden, thanks to wild gardening. Image © Joyce McGreevy

A Wild Surprise

Now, look skyward. See the skyscrapers. You’re standing in the center of America’s third largest urban area. Welcome to Chicago, city of wild surprises.

Laurie Garden, Chicago, IL is the work of creative problem solvers who dare to be wild. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Wild in the City

The urban oasis of Lurie Garden is part of a cultural trend toward New Wave Planting. Inspired by wild gardening, this relaxed style makes plant design less controlled and geometric than conventional gardens.

As Lurie Garden expert Noel Kingsbury wrote in Planting: A New Perspective, “When people say they want some nature, what they usually mean is a particular vision of nature, one that looks nice, fitting in to a distinctly human-centered idea of what nature is or should look like…. The task for the gardener or designer is to create an enhanced nature… one that supports biodiversity and looks just a little bit wild.”

Wild Irish Dreams

Chicago is also where an Irish lawyer dreamed of wild gardens. Says Vivienne DeCourcy, “After 20 years in a Chicago high-rise, I craved the wild West Cork landscapes of my childhood summers.”

Lough Hyne, Co. Cork, Ireland inspires Vivienne DeCourcy, writer-director of DARE TO BE WILD. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Meanwhile, she wrote 16 screenplays, each reflecting her longing to affirm the wild beauty of our fragile planet.

In 2004, DeCourcy returned to Baltimore—no, not in Maryland, but southwest Ireland, where the place-name originates. It’s an Anglicization of Baile Tí Mhóir, Irish for “town of the big house.”

DeCourcy’s home, nestled into a mountain that sweeps down to the sea, inspired visions of a wild garden that invited the outdoors in.

Vivienne DeCourcy's home in Ireland reflects her love of wild gardening. Image © Vivienne deCourcy

Sunset above Roaring Waters Bay, Ireland, home of creative problem solver and filmmaker Vivienne DeCourcy (DARE TO BE WILD). mage © Vivienne deCourcy

Tiny Seed, Big Screen

When DeCourcy finally found the one landscape designer who understood her vision, her dream of wild Irish gardens became a cinematic vision. The extraordinary life of designer Mary Reynolds inspired DeCourcy’s movie Dare to be Wild.

Irish landscape designer Mary Reynolds advocates for wild gardening . Image © Dara Craul/ Mary Reynolds

Self-described “reformed landscape designer” Mary Reynolds
urges gardeners to work with nature, not control it.
© Dara Craul/ Mary Reynolds

By the time production wrapped a decade later, it had involved several Academy Award winners: producer Sarah Johnson (Birdman), costume designer Consolata Boyle, and musicians Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova (Once). Acclaimed Irish musician Colm Mac Con Iomaire composed the score.

Tom Hughes and Emma Greenwell star in Dare to Be Wild, a film written and directed by creative problem solver Vivienne deCourcy. Image © Vivienne deCourcy

Emma Greenwell and Tom Hughes portray Mary Reynolds and Christy Collard
in the upcoming independent film Dare to Be Wild.
Both images © Vivienne deCourcy

A love story based on true events, Dare to be Wild has more twists than a corkscrew hazel tree. Ranging from the green hills of Ireland to the arid mountains of Ethiopia, it centers around London’s famed Chelsea Flower Show.

The Olympics of Gardening

This isn’t just any garden show, but the Olympics of gardening. In 2002, Reynolds, unknown and unemployed, became the youngest person in history to win Chelsea’s coveted Gold Medal for garden design. Among the finalists Reynolds bested for the prize was HRH Prince Charles.

Reynold’s “Celtic Sanctuary” featured hundreds of wild plant species, a traditional drystone wall, monumental stone chairs, and a fire bowl–all of it transported to England and built in three weeks.

A Celtic Sanctuary scene from DARE TO BE WILD reflects the film's focus on wild gardening. Image © Vivienne DeCourcy

Recreated for the film Dare to Be Wild, Reynold’s “Celtic Sanctuary”
shook up design circles with its iconoclastic style.
© Vivienne DeCourcy

Now Reynolds and DeCourcy are on a mission to protect the planet. Reynolds has authored The Garden Awakening: Designs to Nurture Our Land and Ourselves. The wild gardening book became an overnight bestseller in the UK and, with advance screenings of Dare to Be Wild, was rapturously received in Japan.

Fans of Reynolds’ book include Jane Goodall—yes, that Jane Goodall:

Wild Buzz

Meanwhile, DeCourcy is generating buzz. As a passionate advocate for the bees that nurture wildflowers and food plants, she wants people to rethink the conventional culture of gardening.

Irish filmmaker and writer Vivienne deCourcy is a creative problem solver with a love of wild gardening. Image © Vivienne deCourcy/ Dr. Michael Sheehan

“We need to throw a lifeline to the wilderness,” says DeCourcy,
echoing a line from her screenplay.
© Vivienne DeCourcy/ Dr. Michael Sheehan

“Only by experiencing the wonder of wild nature locally can we appreciate what’s at stake and be moved to protect wild nature globally.”

One way to do this, she says, is to replace conventional lawns with clover.

“The typical lawn is a matte green desert that guzzles chemicals. It cannot support a single bee—a creature responsible for one in every three bites of food we take.”

But a clover lawn is a habitat, where nature’s balance can thrive. “It supports a myriad of pollinators, only needs mowing once a year, and, being chemical-free, presents no toxic downside.”

The grounds of Lismore Castle, Ireland showcase the beauty of wild gardening. Image © Joyce McGreevy

A Wild Idea

Suddenly, a smile lights DeCourcy’s face. “Imagine your clover lawn, then a hundred of them, and then thousands, and you can see how easily we could create a sanctuary for our friends the bees.”

“Oh, I see”: The seed of a wild idea can grow into gardens around the world.

DeCourcy and Reynold’s wild ideas took root in Ireland, spread to Ethiopia, and flourished in England and Japan. Now they inspire gardeners everywhere. That’s what happens when creative problem solvers dare to be wild.

See the trailer for Dare to Be Wild here. Follow it here.

Meet Reynolds here and discover her gardens here.

Explore Chicago’s Lurie Garden here.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Joyce McGreevy 1 Comment

Ireland/Nature Discovery/The World's Art & Design/USA

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Have You a Party Piece?