Walking with the Fiddle on his Back By Sandra Bunting

So whether he calls it spirit music
Or not, 1 don't care. He took it
Out of the wind off mid-Atlantic.
Still he maintains, from nowhere.
It comes off the bow gravely,
Rephrases it into the air.

Seamus Heaney, The Given Note

The Story of Legendary West Clare Fiddler,
Seanachie and Dancer Junior Crehan 1908-1998

An ash tree is planted outside Gleeson's pub in Coore, West Clare, where Junior Crehan played fiddle every Sunday night for as long as the pub was open. Inside, photos and tributes to him cover the wall in the corner where he sat every week. Some say he played there for 70 years, first taking out his bow to sit on that raised platform when he was twelve. That may be stretching it a bit but the pub did end up being his local for a long time.

We are so often defined in terms of what we do in life. In regard to Junior Crehan, it was more as 'what he was' as a person. Besides being one of the best known fiddle players in west Clare, everyone who came into contact with him mentions his placid manner, sense of fun and calming presence. Junior died in 1998 and lies in a quiet grave in Mullach near his home but his effect in Clare and beyond continues to resonate clearly.


Born Martin, after his father, in 1908 in Bonavilla, the local townland name also used for his house and farm, near Milltown Malbay, he started on the concertina at the age of six, taught by his mother, Baby. He went on to teach himself fiddle with the help of several masters. The most important influence was from the famous Casey clan, especially Scully Casey. In his younger days he played with that skilled fiddler for house and crossroad dances. It was a tradition for musicians to visit neighbouring farms on Stephen's Day (December 25) to entertain in return for food, drink and sometimes a little money. The performers were called strawboys, wrenboys or mummers. Music would also be played at American wakes, goodbye festivities for people emigrating, and swarrys from the French word soiré or party. There used to be a crossroad dance at Mount Scott Cross on Bonfire Night (June 24) and at Markham's cross every Sunday in summertime.

Muiris Ó'Rochaín, a friend, noticed that people would always gravitate towards Junior Crehan. He went on to say that Junior was genuinely delighted to spend time with visitors, giving his songs, his time and his advice freely. Highly regarded amongst his neighbours, family and friends, he was patient and philosophical and never lost his temper. Nonetheless, Junior had a strong character and a mind of his own. Mr. Ó'Rochaín said he would often take a stand, and he would never ever compromise on music.

Mick Crehan is Junior's nephew. He established the Galway School of Irish Traditional Music. As an uncle he says Junior was tremendously kind, easy going and a great friend. Again he refers to the fun that so many people bring up when talking about the Chare fiddler. Mick says Junior had a profound influence on that way he lives his life. Mick now runs "The Crane" an award-winning pub in Galway and plays tin whistle.

Junior took dancing lessons from a local dance instructor called Paddy Bar ron. However, he spent even more time playing fiddle for the classes. He even learned a few tunes from Barron. In those days, no music was written down. It was remembered by playing it over and over again until the tunes came automatically.

The people of Clare kept up the music because of their love of dancing. At every social event there would be dancing and musicians It was woven into the very social fabric of the place. Folklorist Tom Munnelly says Junior was first and foremost a player for dances. He knew all the dance sets himself. His wife Cissie (Johanna Walsh) was a fine dancer and so were his daughters, Ita and Angela. Where he played most was in Gleeson's Pub in Coore. This was always a dancing pub even when it was a small pub. Junior would encourage people up to dance. He hated to see the music ‘wasted’.

Although a step dancer and a set dancer, Junior was rarely on the floor. He was busy playing. His daughter Ita said she remembers the surprise at seeing Jun ior dancing at her grandparents' anniversary. "There was Dad", she said, "up dancing a hornpipe with his two brothers. We never saw him dance at home because every time we had a 'night' or a dance, he was always playing." When the folk scene started and traditional music became popular again, he never stopped long enough for a dance himself. He could do a bit of a batter, a style of Irish step-dancing where music is made by the feet. Ita says he was a good batterer. He did it in the old style. But the fiddle was his first love.


There is something in the air in west Clare. A relaxed gentleness prevails; from the starkness of the Burren, the layered cliffs and the pounding surf of the Atlantic to rolling hills and fairy rings. People on the roads still take time to wave while passing, whether in a car, on foot or on a tractor. And yet this doesn't mean that the area has been left behind. Ennis was targeted a few years ago as an ex perimental technological centre, a project to promote IT knowledge, literacy. The plan was to use the know-how to create skilled citizens, start businesses and im prove existing ones. Clare just takes what comes and if a good story can be made out of it, so much the better. It was in a mixed climate of magic and harsh reality that Junior Crehan was brought up.

Yet the land isn't the only influence on the renowned fiddler and storyteller. Tom Munnelly, folklore collector and friend, said that the influence wasn't so much geographical as genealogical and social. "His mother's family was gifted in music and he deliberately chose musicians as friends."

Traditional music, or folk as it was called at one time, wasn't always so popu lar. In press such as the Irish Times, Billboard, and the Irish Voice, Junior and other musicians have recently been described as local gods and idols of the tradi tional music scene. However, there were harsh times during the 30s and 40s for music and for life in general. The Dancehall Act of 1936 put an abrupt stop to dancing at the crossroads and basically put all social events in the hands of the clergy. House dances were prohibited, and all gatherings were to be held in church halls. Junior was very bitter about this change because it affected the music and the way of life in the community.

It was also a harsh time economically. Many people emigrated, including many good musicians. Junior's father, a schoolteacher, wanted Junior to get a good education, but he wasn't very interested in school, preferring to stay on the small farm they had.

Storytelling was another of Junior's talents. He had a pleasant speaking voice. With a retentive ear, he learned his stories from various sources, an important one being a neighbour Packie Murrihey. Irish was not taught when Junior went to school but the area was once Irish speaking. Mr. Murrihey learned the stories in Irish but passed them on in English. The repertoire of Junior's Fiannaenian stories, including a special version of Diarmuld and Grainne, came from Murrihey. Often these stories were embellished with Junior's own additions and situated in the local community, a common storytelling technique.

Junior embodied a direct link with the music and folk traditions of vanished generations. Tom Munnelly, the folklorist, calls him a tradition bearer. So impor tant a connection with the past was Junior that Munnelly says that the ancient oral lineage of these stories in Clare has probably ended with him. The Irish language (Gaelic) was important to him. Although he wasn't fluent, he could speak a bit and understand the gist of most conversations. Munnelly says he grew up among the last Gaelic speakers of west Clare and learned music from the last of the travelling players. He had a soft spot for the Connemara style 'sean nos', or unaccompanied singing in the Irish language.

I had heard about Junior Crehan in 1988 when 1 moved to Ireland from Canada. In my ignorance 1 stopped in a pub in Milltown Malbay to ask directions to his house. 1 knocked at his door with my baby in my arms and introduced myself. He sat me down next to the range in his kitchen and proceeded to tell me the story of The Big Wind. 1 didn't quite understand what was happening but I did realise 1 was being treated to something very spe cial, something that has kept with me until the present day. Such was the power of his gentle demeanour and generosity with his time.

The night of the big wind, Ireland's greatest natural disaster, occurred on January 6, 1839. Houses were destroyed, chimneys imploded, fires started, cattle blown away and people swept away in floods. It was more like a tornado or a Carribean hurricane, a storm not usual in Ireland. People thought it was the end of the world. They sheltered in whatever was left standing, held on to anything rooted. Children were hidden under iron pots, wooden chests or anything else for protection. Junior could describe it in great detail and he had a personal anecdote to include.

After the home of Junior's widowed great-grandmother was destroyed in the storm, she gathered together her many children, wrapped the baby in an apron and struggled over to a neighbour's whose house was still standing. It so happened that the house was crowded with other neighbours who had lost their houses too. She thought she would be left outside, when someone piped up: 'Make way for the mother hen and her twelve chicks'. People squeezed together so she could get closer to the fire. The baby in question was Junior's grandfather.

Tom Munnelly has listened to Junior's stories more than most as he has recorded the tales and bits of folklore for the archives. He said that only in Clare can a person be called a liar and take it as a compliment. Junior was a good liar in the sense that he could spin a very tall tale. He could spin it so credibly that everyone would be taken in. He could tell the most outrageous things but he would have this angelic and serious face that he could make people believe that black was white with no trouble at all. Munnelly described him as having an impish of humour. His daughter Ita recalls the same trait in her father:

Ita blamed Junior for getting her into trouble sometimes when she played tin whistle with him. Ita said with Junior's low speaking voice, the cracks or jokes would be coming out the side of his mouth as they would with a ventriloquist. The person on the other side of him wouldn't know what was going on. They would think that Ita was laughing at them.

"He was a divil. He was full of the divil and always had a lot of yarns and stories. He was very easy-going, very calm and very funny, even though to look at him you mightn't think so. He had a rather solemn face and is never smiling in his pho tographs."

Fairy lore was a source of material for Junior's stories. "Whoever says the fairies are not there, I contradict them, for I was mixed with them since 1 was born."

Tom Munnelly has listened to Junior's stories more than most because he recorded a lot of accounts of contact with 'the other world' or the supernatural. Some people in Clare would express absolute belief. One never knew about Junior, says Munnelly, he would have a twinkle in his eye.

One of Junior's stories was about how he met his wife Cissie. To make a long story short, he was engaged to play fiddle at two house parties. On the way to the first house he had to pass a 'rath' or fairy fort. He played a good many hours and left for the second house. He had to go by the fairy fort again. He saw a little ball of light going to and fro. A voice called out "Stop the Ball'. He did and in payment a little man warned him of danger in the rushes. Then he gave him the present of something like a horseshoe nail to put under the bridge of his fiddle. "If you have a girl in mind, get her up dancing and with this charm, nothing in the world will ever take her from you". There was a nice girl at the second party and he got her up dancing and walked her part of the way home. Her mother was strict and they later had to meet through the hedges when she went to fetch water. Eventually, that girl that danced the reel that night became his wife.

Before the 50s when traditional music had a revival, Junior Crehan kept true to the music besides concentrating on his farm and his family. Farming suited him, said his daughter Ita. He was easygoing in his ways, and could do things at his own pace. He was a man of the soil, of the earth. Everything he planted grew. He was a real farmer. No matter how late he was out, playing music, there were the cows to be milked, the turf to be cut. Each member of the family had their little jobs and mucked in when the hay was to be brought in.

Ita says they didn't have instruments when they were growing up, not like to day where there might be a fiddle, a concertina and a guitar in the same family. His children picked up a love of music. Her father had his fiddle but none of the children would take it down.

After the Second World War interest in Irish music began in North America, Britain and Europe. Cornhaltas Ceolt6iri Eireann started up in 1951 to promote Irish music by establishing a series of competitions or Fleadhs around the country. This gave musicians the opportunity to meet one another and maintained standards through contests. At that point there were few musicians left in Clare as most had emigrated.

Junior and his contemporaries in the area had a similar style. For Ita, this style had a beat suitable for dancing. It wasn't fast but it was lively and heart. It is the same west Clare style you hear coming out in Joe Ryan. Tom Munnelly says Clare hasn't been left behind in terms of a fiddling tradition. There are pockets in the county as rich in fiddlers as Cork, Kerry or Donegal.

Besides picking up music from around the community and from travelling musicians, junior learned tunes off old LPs. Tom Lenilian lived in Milltown about seven miles from Bonavilla. Junior would walk with the fiddle on his back to go to his house. Tom gave him the loan of 78 records. Sometimes he'd say to Ita as a record played: "That's a nice tune. Learn it and teach it to me."

Junior was especially fond of slow airs. He would always follow it with some thing lively. Kevin Crehan, his grand son from the U.S., also a fiddler, describes Junior's style as unusual, plainer than most but with a clear execution of ornamentation. The west Clare style has a characteristic sadness (minor and played a little flat to emphasize sadness.) There was a lot of room and air in his dance music. Though it was played slow, it had a lift. He was absolutely unique in playing slow airs. He had a depth of emotion rarely seen anywhere else.

Liam O'Flynn, the legendary uilleann piper and related to Junior through his mother, said the music was an extension of his personality. It had a relaxed almost lonesome quality. As a person Junior was laid back, happy and content. He was a farmer and his way of thinking was in keeping with nature and the rhythm of the seasons.

The awakening of interest in Irish music and culture created a need for
songs, lore and old ways of life to be captured before they disappeared. In west Clare one of the most important sources happened to be Junior. Because of his attractive personality and sense of humour, he quickly made long-lasting friends. One of those was RTE Broadcaster Ciaran McMathuna, who spent a lot of time in Clare and made many recordings of Junior, including those used 'm the Radio documen tary, "The Fires of St. John". He has been going down to Clare from Dublin since the mid-fifties and learned his first set with the Crehan family. McMathuna now has a Sunday Morning radio programme on RTE 1 that highlights traditional music and poetry.

Then came folklorist Tom Munnelly, also from Dublin. He did extensive work with junior Crehan, making the recordings now housed in the Folklore Department at UCD. The result was the inclusion of two lengthy articles in the Irish Folklore Publication Bealoideas, one on Junior's life, and the other on his lore. Munnelly had an interest in die early sixties collecting folklore and music from rural people in Dublin. Asked by the Department of Education to participate in a pilot scheme in 1971 for a few months, it was extended for another two years and then taken over by the Department of Irish Folklore. He's still with the Folklore Depart ment. Eventually he moved permanently to west Clare and built a house between two fairy rings.

Another friend, Muiris Ó’ Rochaín, was instrumental in setting up a traditional music summer school in Milltown Malby. Ó’Rochaín was a teacher and native Gaelic speaker with a love for Irish music and culture. He proposed the idea after the annual conference of Cornhaltas Ceolt6iri Eireann in 1973 and discussed the idea with piper Willie Clancy. Unfortunately, Clancy died of a heart attack soon af terwards and the summer school was named after him.

Junior was involved with the school from the outset. He used to go in to play at classes every year. Anyone who had heard of Irish music in Clare had heard of Junior. He was considered one of the best musicians in the area. At the summer school he was the embodiment of west Clare style of fiddle playing. He also told the stories behind the music and the people who played the music.

Ó'Rochaín says he was a very eloquent man and was able to express himself well. His daughter Ita says it was in Junior's nature, if it had to do with traditional music, he would get involved. He didn't have time to help with administration but at the school itself, he would give concerts and Master Classes. He became presi dent and kept that honour until he died. His reputation helped give the summer school authenticity and upheld its high standard and international good name.

His house was also a great source of music. His wife was a great force behind him. Junior had to farm. Ó'Rochaín says he was a model farmer, care ful about his land, his stock and his house.

Contribution to Music
Music was in his head from the time he got up. Junior Crehan was in anything that had to do with traditional music in Clare. With the revival of traditional music, he got busy. He was in a group called the Laichtin Naofa Ceili Band, playing in Milltown in the 50s and early 60s and entering for competition in the fleadhs. Ita plays tin whistle, but she would sometimes play keyboard on stage at fleadhs with him in competitions for piano and fiddle. She was only a girl when the piano player died in the band and she was asked to fill in. She continued to play with him down the years. They also played together at home.

When the pub scene started in the early sixties, Junior played in Quilty. He was the first to play in the pubs. He and Paddy Gallivan and Michael Downs, Mi chael Fossy and John Fennel, JP Down and Joe Kinnen and of course Ita. The bar in Quilty was owned by Martin Casey. When Martin sold the bar, the musicians moved to the Crosses ofAnnagh Pub where Jimmy Gleeson had taken it over. They were there for four years playing every weekend (Friday, Saturday and Sunday). Ita says there were some great nights there. She used to stay the night on Sunday and drive down to Cork where she was living early Monday morning.

Jimmy sold the pub but built his own bar. They started playing there every Sunday night without fail. Ita left Lahinch where she had moved to, went to Bonavilla, picked up Junior who would be standing at the door with his cap on. If she was late, he'd ask what kept her? But he wouldn't be the last coming out. It would start late and go on late. There'd always be someone asking Junior to play another particular song and that would, to exaggerate, take another 90 verses and then there'd be another song, and then another.

He played at Gleeson's for years. He loved his pint of Guinness and his Majors cigarettes, said Nell Gleeson. At Coore he created an atmosphere like the house dances that were banned in 1936. There would be good music and set dancers. Then Junior would invite up singers and step dancers or recitations. He brought a lot of people into the area.

Ita went with Junior all over Ireland and joined almost 30 other musicians on the Bicentennial tour to the States. She said he was a pleasure to travel with. "He was a howl, an absolute howl."

Junior composed both music and songs. There are nineteen or twenty fiddle tunes composed by him, his biggest hit being the jig, The Mist Covered Mountain.. Farewell to Milltown was also popular. About half as many have been forgotten because he didn't write them down.

His vocal songs were about simple things about local people, wren boys, when the ash tree fell down and laments for friends who had passed on. There were two about his fiend the piper, Willie Clancy, another about his brother who died young and of course one about Scully Casey, his mentor.

There is a scarcity of recordings of Junior playing. Ita says there was a record done for some fleadh. They did one recording with the Laichtin Naofa Band, Come to an Irish Dance, a collector's item now. He was on the compilation, The Fiddlers of Clare and RTE Broadcaster Clarán McMathuna collected a lot of raw taped recordings. Young players are listening to a lot of CDs now but not by junior. For him it was more the personal touch. If anybody wanted to learn from him, they would have to sit down and play with him. Most of the new musicians aren't picking up distinctive styles.

Junior has had the honour of being Clareman of the Year. He was Chaitman of the local Comhaltas Ceoltoiri Eireann and President of the Willie Clancy Summer School. Probably the most important tribute was the respect of other musicians m west Clare. Tom Munnelly says that because of his depth of knowledge and generosity, he won the respect of his peers from an early age. Nel Gleeson said he was the most photgraphed musician around. People loved him.

His contribution to the arts in Ireland was not forgotten. The Arts Council commissioned a portrait by Brian Bourke to be presented to him on his 80th birthday and a photographic portrait by Brian's brother Fergus on his 90th.

And the music goes on. His legacy is ongoing. He devoted so much time to people who came along; those interested 'm music, lore, background and local his tory. It is hard to evaluate just how far the ripples of that little pool spread out, not only in Clare but also throughout Ireland. His bequest is that his children and their children, besides nephews and nieces, are practising musicians. In fact one of the nicest tributes is that his grandson Kevin. who is living in the States, produced a CD called Babóg sa Badóg (Baby and Grandad). It is a collection of Junior's tunes and selections from his repertoire played by Kevin on a solo fiddle.

Muiris Ó’Riochaín of the Willie Clancy School says his influence is still pre sent in the different groups that learned from him or shared his tunes. Many of the more famous groups would know him. His tunes have been recorded by Matt Malloy, the Chieftains, Sean Keane, De Dannann. He influenced Paddy Glackin and Liam O'Flynn.

His nephew Mick said that because his uncle was born at the beginning of the last century, he learned so much from him about history, folklore and life in general He listened to him play and picked up tunes from him.

He was both a friend and a great font of knowledge for Tom Munnelly's folk lore collections. He had songs, information about general rural life, other local lore and oral history. Mr. Munnelly said he was one of the most influencial personas of the area. He knew all the musicians, singers and dancers around

Muiris Ó’Riochaín sums up what many other people have expressed concern ing their contact with Junior Crehan. "My own life was enriched by knowing Junior".

His daughter Ita agrees:" I suppose when you look back on it, he was differ ent in his own quiet way. He knew the value of music and the folklore but never saw himself as any different from anyone else. It's the way you are brought up and the people you live amongst, your neighbours." Like them, Ita said he was an ordinary hard-working farmer. The only difference was that the others went to be and got ready for the morning. Junior went out to dances and played music all night where they went to bed and got ready for the next morning. He did it for the music. It was the love of his life.

Looking out of the window of Gleeson's Pub in Corre it is not hard to imagine why every field and hill has a story. A high hill sticks up a little ways off directly in front of the window. The tale went that it had an O'Brien Castle on it during the time of Brian Boru. The castle was destroyed by Cromwell. He found a poet called O'Hogon in the ruins and held him over the ramparts. "Give me a rhyme in my honour", he said, "and I'll spare your life." The poet said he couldn't use his art to praise such a vile creature as Cromwell. He was dropped to his death.

Junior was a great man for the stories and the music. He is greatly missed in west Clare and further a field. His daughter Ita sums up the sentiments of friends, family and fellow musicians.

"He was a divil. He really was. He was full of the old divil and always had a lot of yarns, the music of course and the fun and the crack.

The End



Interviews
Tom Munnelly, Folklorist, interview at his home at Teach Si, Fintan Beg, outside Miltown Malby, Clare on April 3, 2003
Ita Crehan, tin whistle player, school administrator, IT instructor, interviewed at the Atlantic Hotel in Lahinch, Clare on April 7, 2003.
Jimmy and Nellie Gleeson, owners of Gleeson's Pub, Coore, County Clare on April 7, 2003.
Muiris O'Rochain, founder of the Willie Clancy Summer School. Interviewed b by telephone from his home in Miltown Malbay on April 13, 2003.
Mick Crehan, nephew of Junior's, runs the Crane traditional Music Pub in Galway, founder of the Galway School of Irish Traditional Music. Interviewed, The Crane Pub, Sea Road, Galway on April 13, 2003.
Junior Crehan in Bonavilla, Milltown Malby in April 1988 (the story of the big wind)
Bibliography
Peter Carr, The Night of the BigWind, White Row Press, Belfast, 1993, Page 25
Seamus Heaney, Door into the Dark, Faber, 1963
Tom Munnelly, Junior Crehan of Bonavilla, Bealoideas, The journal of the Folklore of Ireland
Society-Vol. 67, Page 59 61
Lisa Shields and D. Fitzgerald, The Night of the B19 Wind in Ireland, 6~7 January 1939, Irish Geography 22, 19 89. Page 3 8
Sean O'Sullabhan, Handbook of Irisb Folklore, Smiging Tree Press, Detroit, 1970
Fintami Vallelly editor, The Companion to Irish TraditionalMusic, Cork University Press, 1999, vol. XVIII
Excerpts ftom The Fiddler, The Irish Times, The Irish Voice and Billboard, from clippings in Nell Gleeson's scrapbook.


Photos By order of Appearance (Will post gradually)
1. Junior Crehan, page 1, official obituary picture
2. O'Brien's Hill, Coore, County Clare, Page 3, by S. Bunting
3. Junior Crehan enjoying a pint and a cigarette. Page5 by Jimmy Gleeson
4. Musicians' Corner, Gleeson's Pub, Page 9, by S. Bunting
5. Junior playing with other Musicians, Page 12, by Jimmy Gleeson
6. Garden to Junior Crehan, Coore, Page 13, by S. Bunting
7. Tribute to Junior on Gleeson's wall, Page 14, by S. Bunting
8. Gleeson's pub from the Outside, Page 15, by S. Bunting
9. Junior's Final Resting Place in Mullach, Page 16, by S. Bunting