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FOLK AND ROOTS UK
Killarney-born fiddle and concertina player Niamh first came to attention through the Riverdance show, after which she scored highly with her debut album "Ón Dá Thaobh" (From Both Sides) back in 2007, on which she was backed by a wealth of Sliabh Luachra musicians. Since then, she won the Irish Music Association USA's Best Violin/Fiddle Award (2009) and although she's lately been busy touring with the Carlos Núñez band, has somehow found the time to record a followup CD, which is even more persuasive than its predecessor.
Of its 13 tracks, ten are instrumental; these are admirably even-handed, with half featuring the concertina as main protagonist and half the fiddle. Niamh's fingerwork on both instruments is suitably direct and replete with a gentle energy: neat and nifty, always reliably following and leading the melody line and displaying a characteristic lightness of touch that’s supremely well reflected in the supporting contributions of the various other musicians, a fine crew this time comprising Robbie Harris (bodhrán, bones, cajón, shaker), Denis Carey (piano), Donogh Hennessy (guitars) and Trevor Hutchinson (double bass), with Tony O'Flaherty (piano), Manus McGuire (fiddle), Mike Galvin (guitar, bass) and Eoin Ó Carra (zither) appearing on one track apiece. That light, airy feel I noted in the playing is especially marked on the delightful hornpipes-and-schottische set (track 7), where the sheer deftness of Donogh's guitar is quite miraculous in its role as an ideal foil for Niamh's fleet-fingered filigree box work. There are occasions when the voltage races higher, as on the mixed medley The Blue Horse (track 4), which culminates in a vigorous muiñeira composed by Núñez himself. But of the quick-tempo selections, my favourite has to be the utterly joyous brilliancy of the final set, The Iron Man, which pairs a Scott Skinner strathspey with a reel written by Canadian fiddler Rudy Meeks, played as a twin-fiddle showpiece (Niamh in consort with Manus). The pace necessarily slackens for three slow airs, of which Bruach Na Carraige Báine (an old love song from Munster) is played as a concertina solo, while Niamh's own composition Fonn Do Eithne, played on the fiddle, functions as a beautifully lyrical prelude to her cautiously tripping slip-jig The Fairy Step (though I don't think it should've been necessary to fade this track out).
I also must give special mention to the three vocal tracks, which turn out to be among the CD's highlights; the story goes that Niamh was reticent about singing at all on this ostensibly mainly-instrumental release, but in truth she proves herself more than capable in this regard, and on a wide variety of material too. The forlorn love song Sé Fáth Mo Bhuartha is shot through with absolute expressive honesty (and greatly enhanced by her father's plangent zither accompaniment), whereas the tongue-in-cheek Galway song Cailleach An Airgid is given an accomplished, lively and sparkling performance from Niamh, making the most of the taunting chant that forms its chorus. Best of all, though, is Niamh's sensibly measured and simply heartfelt rendition of Paddy's Lamentation, keenly yet sparsely scored for just piano and concertina. These fine vocal tracks not only provide superbly-wrought relief from the principal (instrumental) diet, but make a key contribution on their own terms to what would in any event be an impressive and thoroughly appealing Irish album release with its roots in the tradition.
David Kidman, 01/2011
