Music doesn’t lie. […] Music is going to change the world next time.
Jimi Hendrix, Rolling Stone, 15 October 1970.

4I still believe that music is one of the main gateways to the understanding of Irish history. In particular, over those thirty years researching Irish music, I have become more and more aware of its significance, not only in Ireland, but also among the Irish diaspora, in festivals, in pubs and on the Internet.

• 13 See Marc van Daal’s website: http://www.uilleann.net/uilleannHistory.htm.

The town where I live lies very near the Belgium border and being a lover of trad. Music, I visited with great regularity folk concerts in Belgium. […] In 1975 I attended a concert of the, then totally unknown, Folk band Planxty and met Irish piper, a very young Liam O’Flynn for the first time. […] I was addicted to the pipes straight away […], [which] wasn’t quite that simple.13

9These festivals have long been the main providers of Irish music in continental Europe and have turned Irish bands and people like the Furey Brothers, Micho Russell, Matt Molloy or Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh, to name but a few, into household names all over continental Europe. From this first wave also emerged musicians like Alan Stivell or Dan Ar Braz, as well as lesser-known but revered musicians such as the Quéfféléant Brothers, Patrick Molard, Jean-Michel Veillon, etc.

13The particular significance of Tocane was also confirmed when the Irish Traditional Music Archive took an interest in 2014, and this unprecedented recognition outside the Irish diaspora was explained by Nicholas Carolan, its then director:

• 19 Nicholas Carolan, founder and former director of the Irish Traditional Music Archive, interviewed i (...)

It seemed a perfect sample of globalisation […], but there wasn’t any documentation. And one of our remits is to document Irish traditional music, […], not just in Ireland, not just among the Irish diaspora, but worldwide because we’re interested in all performers of Irish traditional music wherever they are.19

14All these meetings between fans of Irish music are thus the opportunity for musicians from all over France to meet “for real” – and not only via the Internet – and the main activity during these summer schools is now summed up in a new word, the verb sessionner (shared with French video gamers) encapsulating the long hours of playing the great classics of Irish trad (“When sick…”, “Did you wash…”, “I buried my wife…”), and if possible to learn new rare melodies, until very late into the night, or even into the early morning.

15In an ideal session, where the French musicians are passionate and truly excellent, it is musically very hard for most people to tell a French fiddler or uilleann piper from an Irish one, and you would almost think you were in Ireland. Like in Ireland, these communions of a new age are not without some religious connotations; a high priest – or anchor musician – coordinates the session, and all the attributes of the classical liturgy are present, with songs and recitatives, music and dance, the devotion to the great figures of the past, the ritual of tuning the instruments, the sacred jargon, the tacit communion for the sequence of melodies, the passion of some musicians for the names of the tunes, private remarks and whisperings, the prayers to the waiter, etc. Almost like in Ireland, but not entirely, though: if it were not for the almost complete absence of laughter and loud voices, it would certainly sound like a session in Dingle or Gweedore.

16After a few days and sometimes up to fifty hours of music playing during the week, everyone leaves the town in a state of bliss and ecstasy, determined to improve their technique or expand their repertoire in order to return better prepared the following year, musically and physically.

17Many of those musicians have even become recognised professionals of Irish music in France. Although the groups that last are rare, some are worth mentioning and have made a name for themselves (in alphabetical order): Blackwater, Broken String, Dirty Linen, Doolin, Faolan, Gaolta, Garlic Bread, Poppy Seeds, Shelta, The Boys in the Gap, The Rolling Frogs, and many more.

 

18But going back to the question of “Why take an academic interest in Irish traditional music?”, I can see at least three reasons.

19First, because music, like any constituent of the popular culture chemistry, is a comprehensive process that has infinitely more to offer to academia than what the ear of the musicologist can perceive, being at the crossroads between art, sociology, history, anthropology, economics, literature and drama, religion, gender studies, or even law, philosophy, geography, psychology, etc. The fields of research in this domain are almost unlimited: each chapter of its history – past or present – could in itself justify a book or a doctoral dissertation.

20Secondly, because it is a reflection on tradition, which is at the heart of the question of intangible heritage, as evidenced in its etymology, from the Latin word tradere – to bequeath or transmit – and therefore at the heart of our everyday life. Traditional music is by definition a deeply rooted process that continually adapts to the context that generates it, which in turn means that working on Irish traditional music implies a reflection on a collective past, but also on our collective future. Many types of traditional music have disappeared over the last two centuries, but not Irish music, on the contrary, and it is fascinating to wonder why and how some traditions disappear and others thrive.

21The original function of social exchanges and bonding within a community of what is now termed “trad music” was transformed from the 18^th century onwards into an agent of nationalism, in Ireland and in the diaspora, morphing into something new, before recently spearheading the identity and economic renewal of Ireland, through the music industry, while acquiring and retaining a real function within the country in everyday life for amateur musicians. Again, the role of the Irish diaspora was crucial in its survival. We may now, however, speculate on the future of the music and on the role played by musicians outside the diaspora.

22Thirdly, because there must be some explanation for the fact that, although essential to the understanding of Ireland, it is almost absent from the present academic exchanges and debates in France and in continental Europe. And these reasons must be explored: is the study of music perceived as the preserve of musicologists? Is music too pervasive and ubiquitous to grasp, because it is everywhere and nowhere at the same time? Is it difficult to define, to quantify, to analyse? Or is it because of a mutual indifference between the world of Irish musicians and academia in general?

23In this regard, I have noticed over the years the interesting gap between two worlds: the Dagda world and the DADGAD world: everyone in our academic circles is well acquainted with the Irish mythological character of the Dagda, while all the folk musicians are well acquainted with the guitar open tuning called DADGAD. But very few people are aware of both, and I feel that living in our bubbles is the perfect recipe for missed opportunities and long-lasting misunderstandings.

24The fact remains that music studies of Ireland in France are literally “unheard” and intangible. In the meantime, what Ireland has achieved is therefore a veritable tour de force: to offer the world a distinctive feature of its culture while retaining a living function for it within its own society. This duality is all the more relevant as, at the same time, this contribution has been reinstated as a validation of its identity by the international community, mostly on the stages of the world.

 

26We therefore understand that, for François Jullien, cultural identities do not exist because of a fundamental incompatibility between culture on the one hand, which is perpetually in motion and therefore elusive, and identity on the other hand, which is fixed and frozen in time. This might be understandable – up to a point – for some, but it seems to me that identity (like tradition) can and should always be seen as a journey, a temporary conclusion, as Simon Frith explained in his landmark study in 1996:

• 21 Simon Frith, “Music and Identity”, in Questions of Cultural Identity, Stuart Hall, Paul du Gay (eds (...)

Identity is not a thing but a process – an experiential process which is most vividly grasped as music. Music seems to be a key to identity because it offers, so intensely, a sense of both self and others, of the subjective in the collective.21

27It is therefore important to note that culture is not just about “living together” but about “doing and making together”. And it is precisely this “doing and making together” that constitute the fabric human beings cannot live without:

• 22 Hannah Arendt, Between Past and Future, New York, Viking Press, 1961, p. 5.

[…] without tradition which selects and names, which hands down and preserves, which indicates where the treasures are and what their worth is – there seems to be no willed continuity in time and hence, humanly speaking, neither past nor future.22

28The consequence of all this for Irish music is that it has become as much the immediate product of Irish culture as a part of the world’s artistic heritage: it is one of the results of the opening of Ireland onto the rest of the world since the 1960s. Some Irish people seeing their music crossing the country’s borders can sometimes feel deprived of a cultural richness that they themselves have helped to create. This is also what some blues, jazz and flamenco musicians must have felt in the past. This is perhaps what some musicians in New York feel today, in the face of the reappropriation of rap music by young people around the world. But like for blues, jazz, tango, rap, reggae, etc. traditions have no owner, traditions and identities are not properties or commodities that can be bought and sold.

30On the other hand, one of the great novelties of this early 21^st century seems to be the possibility for everyone to choose the identity that suits them. So my contention here is that, not only does cultural identity exist, but over the last decades cultural identity has become more of a choice, not a given. Not only can people choose to be Irish within the diaspora, but they can also make that choice without. Perhaps in the same way the Irish diaspora in the United States or England played a crucial role in its morphing into a 20^th century reality, it is perfectly valid to think that its future survival and developments will happen thanks to the extension of the diaspora in as yet unforeseeable directions.

 

31The aim of this article was twofold: first, to show that, not only is Irish traditional music intangible, in the sense meant by UNESCO, i.e. which cannot be touched. But it is also intangible in Irish studies in France and in continental Europe, probably because it is too elusive and multidisciplinary. It is simply inaudible. Secondly that Irish traditional music in France represents an extension of the diaspora, a choice, and maybe a bridge we should use more often to venture into new territories. And also to build more bridges between two worlds that ignore each other, for the benefit of all.