Brendan Taaffe: Sean Ryan - the Quiet Corner




Séan Ryan: The Quiet Corner

We are a culture given over to lists, and were I to make a list of the recordings of Irish music that have meant the most to me, an album with Séan Ryan and P.J. Moloney on fiddle and flute would be near the top of the list. Long out of print, a friend shared a second-hand copy with me a few years back and I was instantly captivated. The fiddling is simultaneously languid and lively, smooth and soulful. And, like many others, I had been playing some of Séan's compositions for years before I ever heard his playing: tunes like The Reel of Rio, The Glens of Aherlow, and the Killimor Jig have become staples of the repertoire. Ryan's legacy suffuses Irish music, with his tunes coming up as frequently as Reavy's or Fahey's in concerts, in sessions, and recordings. In recent years, Brian Ryan, Séan's son, has published two books of Séan's compositions: The Hidden Ireland and Séan Ryan's Dream. I spoke to Brian and his mother Kathleen, as well as spending time in the Irish Traditional Music Archives in Dublin to create this biographical sketch.

Séan Ryan was born in Nenagh, Co. Tipperary, one of ten children. At an early age the family moved to the Newtown area, and later to Garranmore, outside of Newtown. His father, Thomas Ryan, was a strong dance fiddler, and related by marriage to Dinny O'Brien, the head of a musical family in Newtown. At a young age, Séan would have gone with his father to the house dances of the time, traveling from place to place on foot or by cycle, surrounded by the music. At 9 or 10 he began learning the fiddle from his father, Thomas. At first Séan would only work the bow while his father did the fingering. That would have lasted for as much as a year, and later on Séan would play at the house dances with his father. Dinny O'Brien's house in Newtown was a great center for music. Dinny's son Paddy was a famous accordion player, revolutionizing Irish box playing with his use of the B/C system, and the sessions at the O'Brien's were a focus of musicians in the area, drawing Paddy Fahey and Paddy Kelly, among others.

From such a rooted beginning, Sean grew to be a powerful fiddler, winning a number of competitions in his early 30's. He won the Oireachtas in 1954, the Senior All-Ireland Championship in 1955 and 1956, the All-Ireland duet title with P.J. Moloney in 1956, and later on the trio title with John Brady and Ellen Flanagan. In addition to those talents, Séan was a champion step-dancer at a young age, competing successfully in the feiseanna, and played whistle and flute. In 1961, he formed his own ceili band, with John Brady and Eugene Nolan on flute, Ellen Flanagan and Denis Lyons on accordion, himself and Martin Fallon on fiddle, Jimmy McGrath on drums and Mrs. Kenny on piano. Also in 1961, Séan met his future wife, Kathleen O'Loughlin, a strong piano player herself. In 1968 Séan and Kathleen toured America with "young" Paddy O'Brien, the box player from Daingean, Co. Offaly, and the following year they returned, this time with "old" Paddy O'Brien, the box player from Nenagh and Dinny O'Brien's son. The first tour was organized by Bill McEvoy, an Irishman living in Mineola, Long Island. Paddy O'Brien (the younger) was on that tour with Séan and Kathleen, and remembers this;

"Bill McEvoy had heard a composition of Séan's while he was over in Ireland in 1966. He was visiting and heard Séan playing this reel that he had just composed. The reel stayed in Bill's head until finally he went home, and of course he had problems sleeping at night because the tune was going in and out of his head. The memories of it disturbed his sleeping habits. So to cure himself, he decided he'd bring Ryan to America on a tour. Ryan wanted to have someone with him besides Kathleen playing piano accompaniment. He wanted another accordion player, so he asked me to do it."

"I was living in Offaly at the time, in a place called Tullaghmore, about 11 miles from Sean's house. He would come out every week and pick me up. Séan was driving a Morris Minor car at the time, him and his wife Kathleen would come and pick me up in Tullaghmore and take me out for a practice that would last for about three hours in his house. This went on for about a year, practicing, learning mostly Sean's compositions, which were very exciting to me."

"He liked to rehearse and was very sensitive about the notes and getting them right. We practiced for a whole year before we went to America, and when we came over here we played a lot around New York. We were made honorary members of the Michael Coleman club and of the Paddy Killoran club. We played in Cleveland and Detroit, Chicago and Philadelphia. Met Ed Reavy in Philadelphia—Sean was excited about meeting Ed Reavy."

"He was very passionate about playing, and I've heard people saying that if a child met Séan Ryan on the road with his fiddle and asked him to play a tune, he'd play a tune straight away. Of course, he neglected his farm an awful lot because of the music. Abandoning horses in the middle of the field, where he'd be plowing. He'd think of a tune and he'd run into the house, forget about the horses. Later on, he'd go back out in the field and the place would be a mess, the horses rambling around dragging the plow behind them."

"But Sean Ryan, if he had an audience, if he had a few people really listening to him—it meant an awful lot to him and he'd play his heart out, he'd play very well. Once he'd get into those relaxed circumstances, in a kitchen where there'd be good followers of the music, it's almost as if he had a personality change, it would lift him up so much. He really didn't have too much interest in anything in life, other than this wife and family. The music was the big thing."

Séan started composing in the early 50s, after he had been playing for a good while. Kathleen attributes much of his inspiration to nature and the farm; "He just got a run of notes if he was out working in the fields and he'd develop that later on. I suppose it was inspiration from nature, the birds and such." Perhaps it was something in the soil, for the region was much richer in composers than other parts of Ireland: Paddy Fahey, Paddy O'Brien, Paddy Kelly, and Junior Crehan were all in the area, and all produced great and distinctive tunes. A number of people encouraged Séan in his composing—Father Kelly and Frank McCollum among them, both fine players themselves—but it was a Father Quinn who provided the lion's share of the encouragement and would name a lot of the tunes after Séan had made them. Brian remembers that, "Fr. Quinn named as many as half of the tunes, and he would transcribe them and send them in for the competitions of newly-composed tunes that existed at the time. The Killimor Jig was one of the first that Séan composed, and soon after it came the Reel of Rio. The Reel of Rio was one that Father Quinn entered in a competition. He thought it had a samba feel, and the intention was to pun on the sound of Rye-o. It was played shortly after that by a banjo player on radio and the tune spread like wildfire. They pronounced it rio instead of rye-o on the radio, and so the name stuck."

The Dash to Portobello is another great reel of Séan's, named for a memorable evening in Dublin. Kathleen remembered this story: "Himself and Danny Coughlan, an accordion player went up to Dublin to record for Ceili House, a radio program. Ceili House was live at that time, and while they were waiting they went into the Irish Club in Parnell Square. There would have been a ceili or something going on there, and when they went out they couldn't find their car. Wherever they had parked they couldn't find it, and it took them a long time to find the car. When they did it was very late: Bridie Lafferty was there and she offered to drive them because they didn't know their way too well in Dublin. They just got in at 25 past 10 and the program was on at half ten. There was no rehearsal, nothing, they just sat down and went straight on, and that's why it's called Dash to Portobello. The studio for the program was in Portobello."

By all accounts, Séan Ryan was a quiet man, shy and gentle and romantic. Paddy O'Brien remembers driving with him one day. "Kathleen was driving the car and Sean asked me to look out the window. "Look over at those hills, Paddy, there's music in those hills.' I was very struck by that, and as I look back at it I realize that Sean was very romantic about the music, and would be a man that wouldn't have too many doubts about the existence of the little people." He was romantic, too, about other fiddlers, and was a great admirer of Michael Coleman. Kathleen recalls that, "One time we were up at the Fiddler of Dooney competition and we went out to Michael Coleman's homestead. It was all broken down at that stage and the door was kind of rotten, so Séan got a penknife and got a little bit of wood from the door and stuck it in his own fiddle." Kathleen also remembers Séan as being, "shy, and very gentle. He was very witty, too—I always think his wit comes out in the Reel of Rio. I always imagine you can hear him laughing in that tune."

"He preferred really to play at home, at night. To have a few quiet tunes with someone who would come in. He wasn't too much in love with the stage at all, but when he did play he liked people to listen to him. He hated playing any place where there was noise—like a pub. He felt if he was playing music that people should listen."

Brian Ryan figures that Séan composed over 200 tunes, and that between the two books they've published over 150 of them. Brian said that, "It was always an aim of Séan's to publish his tunes because so many people would be playing them and calling them Lafferty's or whatever. He used to like hearing the tune correctly credited or correctly titled, that was the main aim. With the first book, The Hidden Ireland, most of the tunes were fairly well known, or had been played before, so we wanted to get them credited and titled correctly. With the new book, Séan Ryan's Dream, a lot of people had been looking for a second book as soon as the first book had been done, so the main aim there was just to get his music out again. There are a lot of new tunes in that book that people wouldn't really know."

Séan passed away in 1985, having accomplished as much as any fiddler could hope. His compositions are perennially popular, and those lucky enough to find recordings of his playing continue to be inspired by his smooth bow hand and sweet touch.

Séan Ryan: The Quiet Corner