Midnight session
(From L-R, Suze, Joy and Paul at the Joy Dunlop slot at Celtic Connections: Glasgow, Scotland)
When I wrote yesterday that I would be working hard and going to a Gaelic gig, I didn’t realise there was a possibility I would be working hard at a Gaelic gig. I’m sure I’ve mentioned Joy Dunlop before; a friend who also happens to be a Gaelic singer. She had a gig tonight as part of the Celtic Connections music festival that I attended courtesy of my other friend, Anna. The performance was beautiful, as usual – I have now attended at least three or four separate events with Joy at the microphone as the beauty of her voice astounds me. I know absolutely nothing about Gaelic music, nor do I understand a single word of what she sings, but that doesn’t stop me being haunted by it long after the amps and violins have been returned to their cases.
She called me earlier in the day to ask if I might attempt to film some of the gig – so armed with my trusty hand-me-down tripod, I ran to the venue (I didn’t know where it was – hence the running). I made it with moments to spare, having hastily burbled excuses to the doormen about forgetting my ticket in the rush, but still managed to set up in time. Afterwards, I received news that there was to be a second performance that evening at half past midnight. Throwing caution and sleep to the wind, I enquired if a photographer might be required for that too. It was an offer that was gratefully received and led me to an eventual return home after 1am this morning. Not ideal for a full day’s work tomorrow, but hopefully the pictures will make my night’s work well endured.
On our arrival at the late night session, it remained a casual, but restrained affair with musicians offering three or four numbers before heading off. There was clapping and the odd whoop from the back. By the time midnight rolled around, the bar was awash with chatter, almost drowning out the musicians themselves. As we left, I could see events moving towards a much less controlled atmosphere; a bearded man in a waistcoat was clutching an (as yet) unopened bottle of red wine by the neck in a suggestive manner. It was time to leave before a mildly jolly party could potentially evolve into uproar.
– Today Rosie is working, packing and possibly panicking in Glasgow, Scotland –
