Stornoway, Isle of Lewis, 11-14 July 2007

Sail Hebrides event (photo - Norman Chalmers).

WELL COVES an blones, I’m looking across SY hoil the now and you’re seeing it [if you are lost already, see below – Ed]. A dead Saturday. OK there’s still a few trucks and bits of cloth and steel but the portaloos have gone to some other event and the show is over.

I was born a street back from Stornoway harbour and now live right across from the fishmarket, looking to the Castle Grounds. All that Opium money (in to Lewis via the Matheson-Jardine empire) lies under a big grass slope which hosts the annual Hebridean Celtic Festival.

I remember Caroline (still Festival Director) and Fiona and Nan and Murdo (Chair for all these years) dreaming up the idea. What this Island needs is….. Better start small – well maybe not…. So it didn’t start small but it’s massive now. That’s staying power.

There’s a huge influx of visitors but a lot of us locals will make sure we’re here for the duration. One week ago we were all recovering from Friday and looking forward to the big last night. Some of us were also sailing by day in the Sail Hebrides Festival which runs parallel to the music.

There’s two main strands. The tent is a wild party. I’ve seen some great performers thrown by the sheer noise-level. Quiet Islanders aren’t. Urban Lewis people are maybe a shade louder, but there’s a throaty harmonic from the out-of-town accent, with a bit more nasal twang.

For me, that kombo is music already, usually noisier than the visitors from New York, Greece or any of the other nationalities you bumped into in the tent. On the train to Glasgow, gabbing with a bloke I hardly know but from SY, a Glasgow guy says to me, Hell’s teeth, you Lewis people can talk. If yous are no talking yer on the phone to each other. We’re just fek’n amateurs.

The other strand is a composite of satellite events. Venues are widespread, but the An Lanntair arts centre has become a key one. The emphasis is on strong links with Hebridean culture, often contemporary and with musical interplay which demands more concentration and less pulse-driven response from its audience.

I’ve come round to thinking the Glasgow guy’s right. But even in the tent, the audience chills for the right performers. The events will be covered in more detail on this site but I’m just going to give a hip-shot volley now.

From the water, tying up a Norse rowing boat, I was trusted to skipper for the occasion, the tones of Berroguetto filtered through. A gentler melodic start before Moving Hearts. (But I think Norwegian music should be considered Celtic for next year.)

I got under the canvas for the latter mob of rocky folk superstars regrouped, but the place didn’t jump. The sax was haunting, sure enough, but the whole thing was just too laid back. I like restrained craft in most art but the crowd wanted to get moving. I thought of my mother’s phrase, “wouldn’t set the heather alight” and that was the concensus. And a lot of folk preferred the first band.

Whereas…… on Saturday. The rich grass moved. Our own Divas, collectively kent as Blas, sang their hearts out, in a brave attempt to bring that fine strand out and into the main party. But then Oojami birled. It sounds corny – belly-dancing and whirling dervishes but the music was driving and inventive together.

And the Peatbogs built on the pace. The Skye-based Faeries are HebCelt favourites but they took it even further to full-on bounce mode. The brass section did not one whit of harm that I could notice and it all came together to a proper climax.

The word was that the Festival club sessions didn’t quite reach the high octane reds desired by the people of the night, but the Star Inn was jumping with solid standard session free for all stuff.

But for me the musical height was in An Lanntair on Friday. Nuala Kennedy’s New Shoes band were continually inventive, and allowed drive and flair within what seemed to be a conventional line-up. The melodeon in these hands was a driving force but the voice, flutes, fiddles and guitar listened to each other and engaged in conversation.

Same could be said for the accordian, fiddle, singing and guitar work in Lau, who perfectly offset the first act. The energy was never out of control, never dissipated, served its musical purpose. Again, the remarkable thing is the dialogue. In that sense, for me, these two acts, though you might call both contemporary folk music, had more in common with jazz than that particular performance of the huge musicianship gathered in Moving Hearts.

For those not au fait with Stornoway-speak, Ian has kindly provided the following glossary in “my native tongue”:

cove – male of species
blone –  female (nothing to do with hair colour)
SY – Stornoway, metropolis of Outer Hebrides
hoil –  SY harbour and environs

© Ian Stephen, 2007

Links

• Hebridean Celtic Festival

Associated Page

• Sue Wilson review