Lecture given at the Cork RTC ArtFest November 1997

© S. C. Hamilton 1997

Two things, I hope put me in a position to talk about Music and Cultural Identity in the North of Ireland. Firstly, I am a musician/singer from the North of Ireland, and secondly I have spent the last twenty odd years as a student of ethnomusicology, which is essentially the study of music, not simply as sound, but as an aspect of human behaviour on every level, a sociology of music, if you like.
In approaching almost anything to do with what is here called ‘the North’ it is exceptionally difficult not to be divisive, or to seem from the outset to be partisan. Even the very term, ‘the North’, itself carries all sorts of messages and meanings. It is the term most widely used in the Republic to describe the six northern counties which have a different political jurisdiction to the other twenty six. That might seem like a very tortuous description, but it is on the bounds of impossibility to find a neutral term, and if one was found, it would probably then be condemned as meaningless by both communities. However I intend to use ‘the North’ as the working term for this presentation, because it is in such widespread use and is obviously less pregnant with meaning than some of the many other terms…Ulster, the Six Counties, Northern Ireland ( which I believe is the official term) the UK, or occupied Ireland…take your choice.

The reason for that digression on the name of the place in question, was simply to demonstrate that in dealing with any aspect of the North, even at the simplest level, words can be loaded with meaning.
Working against such a background then, my task here is to discuss what role music plays in the construction of cultural identity. I should stress that the sort of music in question here is….and here we go again on the merry-go-round of terminology…variously described by some of the people that I’ll quote as:

traditional music, Irish traditional music, Fenian music, Scottish music, diddly-eye, amongst others.

Even within the music community in the South, there are problems of definition, but for our purposes here I think the term traditional music, when used to refer to music within Ireland, is the most useful term.

As we are all aware, traditional music, has, within the last few years shaken off its previously held rural minority interest, or if you like ‘culchie’ associations to become one of the most powerful icons of modern, economically successful, Ireland. I don’t want to get bogged down here with the arguments about what this process in itself is doing to the music etc., but I think it is safe to say that the average citizen of this state is aware of something called traditional music as some part, major or minor of who they are. They may have a very distorted view of what that music is, or where it comes from, and I have argued elsewhere that this is in fact overwhelmingly the case, but that doesn’t affect my argument here. One could say that in the South, traditional music has become a positive identity marker for the vast majority of people.

In the North, the situation is somewhat different. The two communities there have constantly defined and redefined themselves as two separate and distinct ethnic groups, and as that wonderful euphemism, the troubles, grinds on, I believe that this process has accelerated to the point where far from seeking common ground, areas of what may have once been perceived as the prerogative of both communities is being made to serve the needs of one or other.
Music, in particular traditional music, was one of the first areas of culture to fall foul of this process, and as the situation stands now in the North has become, along with the Irish language, one of the pillars of Irish/nationalist/Catholic identity. In antipathy to this, most Protestants see these areas of culture as firmly outside their makeup, and they would see their absence as being definitive, as John Taylor is never tired of proclaiming ‘we do not dance jigs at the crossroads’.
I used the term ‘most Protestants’ advisedly, because in spite of all this, there are a considerable number of Protestants in the North involved in playing traditional music, and this was the case even in the dark days of the 1970s, when sectarian violence was at its height, so for some Protestants at least, traditional music is not simply a negative aspect of their identity, but something which they go to great lengths to embrace.

The questions which I now want to spend some time examining are basically these:

What is the musical and historical basis for the use of traditional music in this way? Is the music as we hear it today really a firm part of Irish/Gaelic culture? Are Protestants who play it simply playing Catholic music?

To go to the first question…the historical basis for the use of traditional music as an identity marker.
The concept of the use of any form of culture as a means of establishing an identity, in particular a national identity is a relatively recent one. In fact the whole concept of nationalism is a development of the late 18th century, and was not fully accepted until much later. I quote John Edwards’ ‘Language, Society, and Identity’:

…the very term nationalism seems first to have appeared around the end of the 18th century, although it did not find a permanent place in dictionaries until almost a hundred years later – and the term nationality apparently received its contemporary launching from Lord Acton in 1862.

In Ireland, the awareness of culture as part of national identity dates from the same period, [show first overhead] and this is reflected in several works which were published in or around that time, for example Walker’s ‘Historical Memoirs of the Irish Bards’ published in 1786. More important is the work of Edward Bunting with regard to the Harp and its music, and doubly relevant here because not only did it happen in Belfast, but did so in an atmosphere of cross-community political involvement.
Behind the musical collections that Bunting made was the idea of establishing a legitimacy for the concept of a culturally and politically separate Ireland. Hence Bunting’s insistence that the music that he recorded from the harpers was, in his own words ‘Very Ancient, author and date unknown’. It is no coincidence that the United Irishmen took the harp as their symbol, and the words ‘It is New Strung and Shall be Heard’ as their motto. What is remarkable is that probably for the first and last time, aspects of Irish culture were seen, by the leaders of the movement at any rate, as seamlessly characteristic of both religious traditions.
The next appearance of cultural nationalism has some connections to Bunting’s work, even though it was more concerned with language rather than music.

The Young Irelanders can be seen as an Irish manifestation of the romantic movment which was flourishing on the continent at the same time. Thomas Davis, one of the founders, was heavily influenced by the German romantics and had spent time in Germany. MacDonough in ‘Ireland, the Union, and its Aftermath’ says:

Here the single most critical event seems to have been Thomas Davis’s visit to Germany in 1839-40. Davis underwent an evangelical-like conversion when confronted by the works of Lessing, Fichte and the Schlegels.

Cultural nationalism had been a relatively minor feature of the philosophy of the United Irishmen, but as the 19th century progressed it became entrenched in Irish political separatist thinking. If I may quote myself:

The various nationalist/independence movements that arose in Ireland from the late 18th century onwards tended to become more and more aware of the power of a common cultural heritage, real or imagined, as a means of uniting the population politically. The revolutionaries of 1798 were more inspired by the success of similar revolutionary movements on the continent and by general considerations of republicanism and the rights of man, than by any considerations of a cultural nature. The mass political motivation achieved by O’Connell was more largely based on religious grounds, but the nationalism of the Young Irelanders from the early 1840s onwards was illuminated by the idea of a culturally distinct nation.

Thomas Moore had in the early years of the 19th century taken some of the tunes that Bunting had collected and composed sets of words to them that were what might be described as ‘gently nationalist’ in tone. These became immensely popular, and remained so throughout the 19th century and well into our own period, giving a medium of expression to a form of nationalism that, in the experience of my childhood, was as acceptable to Protestants as to Catholics.
The Young Irelanders, mainly through the medium of their publication ‘The Nation’ popularised their political ideals via poems and songs, some of which have become standards of what has been called ‘national music’…songs such as A Nation Once Again, and The West’s Awake. It is notable that in their attempts to establish a cultural identity for Ireland that the Young Irelanders, many of whom were Anglo-Irish in background, in fact succeeded in reinforcing the use of the English language, and English forms of poetry and balladry.

[it should be noted here that English has always been the language of Irish nationalism]

They almost totally ignored the traditional music and song that was going on around them, but they did succeed in putting Irish music, real or perceived, on the political agenda.

The Gaelic league, founded in 1893, was overtly culturally nationalist in character, though not openly political, at the outset at least. The league were the first body to look at Irish culture in a holistic way, and although they were primarily a linguistic body had a huge influence in the development of music and dance as well. Mac Aodha, in “The Gaelic League Idea’ states:

…travelling teachers, who in addition to holding language classes, taught Irish dances, history, folklore, music, and organised feisanna, céilithe and aeríochtaí.

In fact, not only did the Gaelic League take an interest in cultural matters apart from language, they had a major effect on the future development of Irish music and dance.

Finally, bringing us up to date, the Folk Revival, as it is generally known, was probably the only event in this list which was not intimately connected with Irish politics, although its origins in the international politics of the left have been widely discussed. This movement, if such a loose group of events, motivations, and musical developments can be so described, can be more easily seen as a reaction against certain developments in the popular music scene, and as such was in its conception much more cultural than political. This was certainly the case in Ireland, where by the time it began to have an effect, the protest song phase, which was so important to the revival in America and England, had largely been replaced by what is commonly known as the ‘Ballad Boom’. In this development lie the origins of the current popularity of traditional music in Ireland, and hence the position it now holds as an icon, positive or negative for either community in the North.

Is it fatuous to suggest that there is something in this historical background which would make Protestants shy of accepting traditional music as typical of their identity, in particular their current identity? The constant identification of Irish culture with the Irish separatist cause is an obvious reason why the average Protestant tends to dismiss it as a cultural icon, but the reality is less than black and white, or orange and green, to introduce a bit of local colour.
Irish nationalism, in its various manifestations has always tried, with varying levels of success, to be inclusive of the Protestant tradition.

Wolfe Tone strove for a state where Protestant, Catholic and dissenter would all find a place. The Young Irelanders went to extraordinary lengths to claim all the inhabitants of the island as included in their vision, perhaps because many of them had a fairly tenuous claim to this nationality themselves. Insisting on the unity of the Irish as a race as the only way forward politically, and yet realising that in fact the population was of several different ethnic origins including the hated ‘saxon’ the Young Irelanders, and Davis in particular developed a theory of nationality which basically adopted the stance that from now on (from his time that is) everybody on the Island was to start from scratch, as it were, as equal Irishmen. Two pieces of Davis’s poetry, quoted in Boyce’s ‘Nationalism in Ireland’ encapsulate this line of thinking and also serve to give the listener a flavour of the essentially English style of this body of work. Pleading for the unity of the nation Davis wrote:

What matter that at different shrines
We pray unto one God?
What matters that at different times
Our fathers won this sod?
In future and in name we’re bound
By stronger links than steel;
And neither can be safe nor sound
But in the other’s weal

And in trying to explain how everyone could be miraculously Irish no matter what their background, almost as if it was a matter of diet:

not long our air they breathed;
Not long they fed on venison, in Irish water seethed;
Not often had their children been by Irish mothers nursed;
When from their full and genial hearts an Irish feeling burst!
The English monarchs strive in vain, by law and force and bribe,
To win from Irish thoughts and ways his ‘more than Irish’ tribe;
For still they clung to fosterage, to Breitheamh, cloak, and bard;
What king dare say to Geraldine,’your Irish wife discard’?

The Gaelic League in the early days before it had become radically politicised similarly had a broader appeal than might be thought today. Nowlan, in his contribution to ‘The Gaelic League Idea’ states:

It was noted for example, that in Monaghan County Council a resolution in support of the language was ‘accepted by unionists and nationalists alike’, and there was a similar report from the Larne Board of Guardians. At a meeting of the South Dublin Guardians, a like resolution was described as being warmly supported by a unionist. Again, the Gaelic league in Belfast felt, in April 1899, sufficie####ntly confident to hold a public meeting in support of the demand for the teaching of Irish in schools. An Claidheamh Soluis proudly proclaimed that: ‘All classes and creeds were represented at the gathering.

As we have seen the revival activities were less political from the outset, but the re-emergence of the ‘Troubles’ in the North, just as the revival was beginning to gain momentum in the late 1960s planted an indisputable notion in many Protestant minds that traditional music was part of the overall plot to undermine the Northern State.

I have tried, up to this point to show traditional music in the light of the historical development of cultural nationalism. At some point, though, in my study of the overall social history of traditional music, I began to ask myself the question:
How well does traditional music serve as a cultural icon?

The Irish language holds an irrefutable position in this sense, and as such, and rightly so, is the jewel in the crown of cultural nationalism in this country. What does the study of traditional music tell us about its suitability, or otherwise, for this role?

In order to do this it is necessary to understand something of the overall history of music in Ireland which has given rise to the music that we today call Irish traditional music. [second overhead]

There is a common perception that, as with the Irish language, traditional music represents a direct connection with the Gaelic past. The reality is somewhat different.
Gaelic culture survived, not only in Ireland, but in the Gaelic speaking areas of Scotland, largely intact up until the Elizabethan period. The conquest of Ireland, and the plantations which were designed to consolidate this conquest resulted by the early 17th century in the break-up of Gaelic society. The Cromwellian and Williamite wars ensured that by the end of the century very few vestiges of it remained. Little is known of the music and song of this period. What we do know relates entirely to the patronised system of what might be called Gaelic art music, where praise poems in honour of the patron were declaimed to the music of the harp. We have some texts of this bardic poetry, but no real idea of the music that accompanied it. Otherwise all the evidence is literary and iconographical. We know that there were several different types of wind instruments, the best known and described being the two-drone bagpipe, which by all accounts was used primarily for military and ritual purposes. Other types of instrument are so rarely alluded to, and in such ambiguous terms, that beyond placing them as stringed or wind instruments, little else can be said. There are no surviving instruments from the early Gaelic period, and only one or two harps from the medieval era. Of the music of the ordinary man or woman of the Gaelic period, we know almost nothing.

Interestingly, nowhere, before the 15th century, is there any reference to dancing in Gaelic society, and the words used in Irish are loan words. This has been taken to indicate that pre-Norman Gaelic society did not dance, which if it is true, is unique. Unlikely as it might seem, there is no evidence to refute it.

This highly unsatisfactory state of affairs leaves us in the position of being very uncertain about what is the musical inheritance of Gaelic Ireland. The one possibility lies in the area of song. Until the last century, and indeed until quite late in this one as isolated survivals, there were several types of vocal music which had their origins in Gaelic Ireland. I am thinking here of the funerary practice of keening, and of the practise of chanting lays or laoithe in Irish. Although both of these were actually recorded in this century, I would suggest that they had functionally gone into declne in the 19th century. The one form that does survive, and in fact is thriving, is what is generally known as sean-nós or simply old style singing in Irish. The metrical structure of the texts of these songs is syllabic, i.e. the metre depends on the number of syllables per line. This particular metre only makes its appearance after the break-up of Gaelic society and the decline of the Bardic schools, which dates it to the 17th century. There is some possibility, however, that it may have been in existence before this as a popular form of verse, which would have been beneath the notice of the classically trained filí.

The texts of most of these songs can be definitively dated to the 18th century, and very often to particular authors. The airs they are sung to may be from the same period or they may be older, but unfortunately our ignorance of Gaelic music in general precludes any more definite conclusions.
Our knowledge of the next period, is not much greater, but several overall conclusions can be drawn from the references, again mostly literary, that we do have.

1/ Dance begins to be a very important aspect of rural life. Initially this takes the form of long, or group dances which seem to be restricted to the areas of Norman or English influence, but from the beginning of the 18th century we begin to see the appearance of the dances which we more readily associate with traditional music as we know it, such as the jig, reel and hornipe.
2/The introduction of these dances appears to have been largely the work of itinerant dancing masters, who appear increasingly in literary references during the 18th century.
3/ The dances they taught included not only the dances we now think of as traditionally Irish, but also dances which were widespread in the Europe of the time such as minuets and cotillons.

Because so little is known of the early history of dancing in Ireland we cannot be sure to what extent the dances which were introduced overlapped in style or content with what was already there, but it is certain that in the course of the late 17th and early 18th centuries that the fashion for group dances was replaced by an absolute passion for step dances for solo performers or small groups. The origin of these dances is of central relevance here. The jig, for example seems to have been the first to arrive.
The use of the word jig, in its commonly accepted modern sense of a type of dance or piece of music begins to come to light from about the middle of the 17th century in France and slightly later in Italy. Prior to this it was known in England, not specifically as a dance or dance tune, but as a type of theatrical performance, evolved from earlier village entertainments which included a step dance. Thus the word jig at this stage could refer to dancing, singing, or both, and in common parlance probably meant any form of entertainment which involved music singing and dancing. In Elizabethan England, this was widely performed by professional theatrical groups. The term jig, probably at some stage in the 16th century came to be applied simply to a type of dance.
At this stage, even when the sense of a dance or the music for it was becoming dominant, there is no suggestion that the modern 6/8 dance tune, or specific type of step dance is in question. As the form spread to the continent and became popular in France and Italy, it is found in both simple and compound duple, triple and quadruple metres, and it is important to stress that in these countries it is not found as a dance form but rather as instrumental music in the art tradition. Thus in France it first appears in suites of lute music around 1635, and in Italy composers such as Corelli began to include sections entitled Giga as a finale to their sonatas. Thus in a relatively short period of time, the jig moves from being an element of the Elizabethan stage to a part of continental art music sonatas, and although the name remains in a recognisable version the same cannot be said for the musical aspects. This is probably due to the fact that the jig seems to have transferred to the continent as a tune type rather than a dance form.
Given that the jig, as a dance tune if not as a dance, was so mobile, it is no surprise to see its appearance in Ireland. When it appeared has been a matter of some controversy. The two threads to this argument are firstly that the jig in Ireland has been strongly influenced by the Italian form, perhaps via Scotland, and that the jigs composed by Carolan have been an important element in this. The alternative theory is that the dance existed in Ireland before Carolan’s time and that his music is irrelevant in the development of the Irish jig. These two positions were argued respectively by Townsend and Breathnach in publications in the early 1970s, but it seems to me that both men were trying to base their conclusions on references using the word jig, which can have, as we have already seen, multiple meanings, leading to various interpretations. Following from this there is also a sense that both authors are discussing different things. Townsend is talking about the use of the word jig to describe a particular sort of dance tune. He does not deny that jig-like tunes existed in Ireland before the late 17th century, but stresses that they were not called jigs. Breathnach on the other hand allows himself to define the meaning of the term jig in the early references he quotes as a dance form with some relation to the present day jig, without there being any real evidence that this is so.
All this confusing evidence makes a lot more sense if we remember that it is the word jig which begins to spread in the 17th century without necessarily bringing with it any associated music or dance form.
My own feeling about the matter is that a dance, possibly related to the modern jig, and also possibly an import from England, and dance music or songs that it was danced to, which were in what we would now call jig rhythm, pre-date the import of the term jig to Ireland. The late use of the word here may also assist its restriction of meaning to simply imply a specific type of step dance.
Whatever the truth about the early history of the jig in Ireland it is not until the 18th century that it is noticed as a step dance among the ordinary people, and at this period it appears to have been the only step dance of its type as reels and hornpipes do not appear to have arrived until a later date, and this is verified by their absence from the 18th century printed collections of dance music.
The origins of the hornpipe and reel I will only mention briefly here as their stories are somewhat similar to that of the jig.
The hornpipe also began its life as part of an English theatrical performance before being taken up by the dancing masters and developed to the extent that it became the typical dance showpiece for the male step dancer. It is thought to have come to Ireland at some stage late in the 18th century.
The reel is another 18th century introduction, this time from Scotland, and it is thought that the dance developed from the Hay which is believed to have originated in France.
The late introduction of these dances/tune types is again strongly supported by their absence from collections of dance tunes published up to about the middle of the 18th century.

So much for the dances and the related music. What of the instruments used to play this music? 17th century accounts mention, various instruments in this capacity, but two, the fiddle and the pipes, are pre-eminent. The fiddle is obviously an import, but what of the pipes, the instrument that most people think of as being quintessentially Irish?
The old Irish two drone, mouth blown, bagpipe that was typical of the Gaelic period died out at some stage in the 17th century. Up to now, it was generally thought that the instrument known as the uilleann pipes, the Irish bellows blown bagpipe, was a development of this instrument, which took place in Ireland beginning in the early eighteenth century. Recent analysis of the available evidence, however, may indicate that in fact although the instrument was certainly brought to its fullest development in Ireland, the constituent parts which were once thought to have made it unique, may in fact have been brought together elsewhere. This is not the place to go into this argument in detail, but it essence it is suggested that the essentials of the instrument… the bellows, and the closed chanters known as regulators [ in their Irish manifestation] were introduced to this country originally from France via Northumbria and the border regions of England and Scotland. Other organological evidence, concerning bore design and other aspects of manufacture can be rallied in support of this theory.
The other instruments now thought of as typical of the Irish tradition are all, with one exception, common to many other traditions in Europe, and their introduction into this country can easily be traced and dated, mostly to the second half of the 19th century, for example the accordion and concertina. Other instruments such as the piano and banjo are largely the product of the emigrant Irish musician’s experience in America in the first decades of this century, and the revival brought its own crop of new instruments to the fore. [The bodhrán, by the way is the one exception mentioned above. Thought by many to be the revival instrument par excellence, in reality its use in dance music can be traced back at least as far as the beginning of the 19th century]
The jist of all this puts Irish traditional music in a rather unique position, certainly within Europe, and possibly globally, in that with the possible, and I stress possible, exception of the pipes, all the instruments that it uses are borrowed, the vast majority from mainstream European classical and popular music.

I want to return from this excursion into the origins and history of traditional music in Ireland to my main purpose, and hopefully explain why it is all relevant. To put the above in a nutshell, it would appear that traditional music in Ireland as it is commonly perceived can probably trace little except some aspects of sean-nós singing to the pre-conquest Gaelic period. The tradition of step dancing and set dancing to jigs reels and hornpipes, polkas and slides can demonstrably be attributed to English and Scottish, and continental origin, having a history in this country for the most part no older than the 18th century, and though we have not mentioned it up to now, the tradition of singing in English, owes its conception, although not its songs, to that country and to Scotland.

Remember the question I asked some time ago: How well does traditional music serve as a cultural icon? Based on the outline history given above the answer might well be admirably…but to which tradition? Doesn’t it seem more likely that all these imported dance forms, tunes, and instruments, brought into this country from the very same places as the bulk of the Protestant community would serve as their cultural icon? What has led to the current state of affairs where a complete reversal of this has come about?

Several points are important here.
Firstly the whole idea of conciously thinking about ones identity and looking for symbols of it is a reasonably recent occurrence. Gary Hastings, fluteplayer, commentator on musical matters, and lately Anglican clergyman sums it up neatly:

Before the 31st July, 1893, people danced, sang songs, and played tunes. After that date they danced Irish dances, sang Irish songs, and played Irish tunes.

The date in question is, of course, the foundation of the Gaelic league, and the point that Hastings makes here is simply that until it was brought to their notice that such things were icons of identity, most people had absolutely no idea that they were such.
Secondly, and this reinforced strongly the idea that traditional music had no role as a cultural icon for one community or the other, contrary to the commonly held belief among the majority of the Protestant community at present, up to very recently, both communities were involved in the same music, which if it in fact had any cross community differences, these were no greater than between music from Kerry and that from Donegal. Fintan Vallely in a series of interviews that he did as part of a research project at Queen’s University constantly came across evidence of this:

I remember in the Watergate bar, Callaghan’s bar, in Enniskillen, and there was a man up dancin’. full, plastered. He was absoutely langers, and we were playing tunes and he started to dance. And you could see though he was fallin all over the place he knew exactly what he was doin. He was – say – late forties. He wasn’t ###Ådoin any stage stuff – he was doin real stuff… he was an Orangeman from such and such a place…..I says, ‘what the hells he doin that for. She says ‘ that what they do in the Orange Hall up there.

And from the same source, but a different informant:

I remember a set-dancing night at Queen’s and there were various demonstrations of sets. And there were a group of quite old people from Comber who danced a version of the Orange and Green set, very much old style, but from a strongly Protestant community, and they danced it in the local Orange Hall.

So I suppose I can say in answer to John Taylors insistence that Protestants do not jig at the crossroads…. of course not.. they do it in the Orange Hall instead!
For various reasons, the memory of this sort of activity seems to have been deeply suppressed by many of the Protestant community in recent years, and any music which even by###ˇ its performance style is seen to be associated with Irish music, is rejected. Another of Vallely’s informants relates:

I’m the only person ever to have been called a Fenian bastard and a Protestant bastard in the one night – in the same pub, all for playing traditional music….I’ve been called a Fenian bastard by people walking past me own house who heard the fiddle playing through the window.
As the situation stands at the moment, despite the very negative way in which some Protestants regard traditional music, there are still a small group who play it. In general this is done in the same social context as the Catholics who play in the same area, and if I can revert to personnal experience for one moment I would propose that the reasons that they do so are almost purely musical. They play because they like the music.
As the rampant polarisation of an already extremely polarised community continues in the North, it must be expected that recruitment to this group will dwindle.
My argument throughout this p####resentation has been that the reality of music as history and culture in the North, and its perception by the two communities are worlds apart. Having little real connection to Irish Gaelic culture of the past, and as I hope I have shown, a lot more to do with the background of the community who reject it, yet traditional music finds itself almost exclusively seen as an Irish/Catholic/nationalist icon.
History shows us that it, almost alone among the many complex factors that make up Northern Irish society, could have served as a common ground where both communites might have felt at home.
Sadly, this was not to be the case, and many on both sides of the divide have instead used it as a further basis for sectarianism.

Cultural Nationalism

1/ Late 18th century.
Bunting’s Collections, antiquarian interest
leading to Moore’s melodies

2/ Mid 19th century
The Young Irelanders
Ballad poetry, ‘The Nation’

3/ Late 19th/early 20th centuries
The Gaelic League
leading to The Fei####s Ceoil, Ceilí dances etc.

4/ The Folk Revival
The ‘ballad boom’
leading to the current commercial phase of
traditional music.

Outline History of Irish Traditional Music
1/ Gaelic Era
Up to 1650. Then political change means break up of
patronage system.
2/ 1650-1750
Introduction of fiddle, Decrease in long and group
dances. Dancing masters and the introduction of
step dancing. The jig introduced probably via
England or Scotland. Pipes appear….but from ###v
where?
3/ 1750-1850
Introduction of hornpipe from England, and reel
from Scotland. Pipes become increasingly
important. Set dancing introduced from France and
spread by dancing masters. Flute [via England and
Germany] begins to be used.
4/ 1850-1950
New instruments such as accordion, concertina,
whistle, banjo, piano, guitar. House dancing. First
recording boom 1916 -1929. Severe decline
in all traditional music at the end of this period.
5/ 1950 –
The revival. Second recording boom. More new
instruments. Stylistic borrowing from popular music.