The Irish language has a beautiful word for folklore: béaloideas, which is literally, “mouth education.” It means learning by listening. Folklore is the traditional beliefs, customs, and stories of a community, passed down through the generations by word of mouth. Interestingly, the history of Irish dance is replete with oral traditions and theories of how and why aspects of Irish dance came to be. They are often fascinating, if fanciful and unable to stand up to scholarly historical investigation. History is a branch of knowledge into past events and it encompasses all aspects of human culture – religion, politics, economics, technology, medicine, culture, intellect, military. And all history comes to us through an historian’s bias; the particular lens through which they understand and interpret their subject. Definitions of bias convey that there is a sense of favouritism or prejudice inherent in the term, but in the context of historical study, we must accept it as part of everyone’s research. One of my favourite definitions of history comes from folklorist Henry Glassie who argues that history is “an artful assembly of materials from the past.”[1] Since returning from Ireland this past June, I have been reflecting on tradition and transmission, particularly as a Canadian who shares traditional step dances from various places in Ireland.
One particular tradition that draws me, is that of North Kerry. I have previously written about North Kerry Style (You can read about that here). While I was in Ireland, I got to spend a morning learning from Jonathan Kelliher, co-founder of Ceim Arts, the former artistic director at Siamsa Tíre, and a dance master in the North Kerry style. That morning represents to me a modern encounter with béaloideas. At Teach Siamsa Finuge, an arts space committed to innovation in traditional arts, Jonathan shared steps and the stories of where they came from. Our conversation ranged from dance technique to preserving historical traditions to how they are remade and find new expressions. I reflect frequently on what it means to be a Canadian learning and transmitting these traditions. I wonder about my own bias in how I understand and interpret the dances, style, and context of dancing from North Kerry.
The truth is that tradition is not fixed. Each generation will practice it in a certain way. Jeremiah Molyeaux was the last travelling dance master. He moved around from village to village, teaching at six-week intervals before moving on to the next village. That was a tradition unto itself. Some of Molyneaux’s students carried on his stylistic legacy, teaching his steps, but none of them were travelling dance masters, which raises the question, did they carry Molyneaux’s tradition forward, even with these different circumstances? Or the founding of Siamsa Tíre by Father Pat Ahern, a former Molyneaux pupil. This was a theatrical endeavour designed to preserve the stories, music, and dance of North Kerry, but in a theatrical format. Does this count as carrying forward the tradition? And the work of Jimmy Hickey, a student of Liam Dineen, who was a student of Molyneaux, teaching North Kerry style in schools around the county, is that carrying on the tradition? The answer is yes, of course, each of these carries forward a piece of the past and also creates new aspects in the tradition.
Tradition, folklore, history – they all have a place in the preservation and transmission of cultural practice. As the Austro-Bohemian composter Gustav Mahler is credited to have said, “tradition is not to preserve the ashes but to pass on the flame.” What we must do is understand what aspect it is that we are preserving or seeking to pass along. It has become clear to me that the mechanics of the steps alone are inadequate. There are examples of North Kerry choreography being used in competitive Irish dance, but all of the elements of style have shifted to the competitive form. Sharp and rigid movements instead of the relaxed, flowing rhythm of North Kerry. It could be argued that that is a form of preservation, but it misses the heart of what defines dancing in North Kerry style: footwork, rhythm, flow, lineage, community, and story. It is not enough, therefore, to simply learn the mechanics of the steps, but one must embody the style, as well as engage with the stories of where the dances have come from. Understanding who preserved them and in-so-far as it is possible, what was life like when they learned them. Technology has been instrumental in helping to preserve this style. Muckross House facilitated essential work in the early 80s to preserve the music and dancing of North Kerry as the older generation were dying. They wanted to ensure there was a record of what was, and those recordings are vital to the preservation of the tradition. So too, however, are the ways in which others seek to honour the past by carrying it forward into the present and future.
When I reflect on my time with Jonathan, learning steps, discussing tradition, and our own roles in it, it is clear to me that this was a moment of béaloideas. That moment has inspired me in my own work as a tradition-bearer here in Canada. As I wade into the past, I am more deeply committed to understanding the stories of these steps and the people who danced them. In the coming year, I will share more about the dancers who participated in the collection and preservation of North Kerry style. That moment of béaloideas is also a reminder to hold what I know to be true lightly, because there is always more to learn, and I can never be sure what I might need to unlearn with the next discovery.