The extended gestational period of the pandemic is yielding a raft of riches in the world of traditional music. When theatres went dark, and tour schedules evaporated, some artists found themselves in an unexpectedly fertile place, where for the first time in many years they had time to themselves.
Nuala Kennedy has mixed feelings about that period, which saw her a newly returned migrant, her bags barely unpacked when the world came to a grinding halt. Long resident in Edinburgh, but a native of Dundalk, Kennedy is a flute player, singer and composer whose work has always traced its own inimitable arc. Never a woman to lean towards the autopilot button, she has written a raft of glistening tunes that refuse to follow a predictable trajectory, and her singing has slowly become more prominent, emerging from behind her impressive flute-playing and revealing its warm colours over more recent albums.
Shorelines, Kennedy’s latest collection, is an ode to the resilience of women across time and across oceans. A maritime theme underscores her song choices, all of them gathered in pursuit of tales of women who triumphed in the face of impending tragedy or disaster.
“It’s been going around in my head for a long time,” Kennedy says, “but certain things sped it up over the past few years. I remember talking to [the flute player and singer] Cathal McConnell, because he sings a lot of songs from a woman’s viewpoint. I remember saying to him, ‘What if life imitates art?’ All the songs I was singing were tragic, because I love those beautiful, sad songs. But I wanted to learn some songs where it goes well for the woman. That’s when he taught me The Cavan Road. It set my mind thinking that I consciously wanted some songs where things went well – and maybe I’m a bit superstitious about this, but, just in case, I wanted to shift the emphasis to the positive for a change.”
That’s no small task in a tradition that basks in tales of terror and tragedy, but after taking the time to let the ideas take shape, to ferment and percolate, Kennedy has emerged with a collection of songs that celebrate the diverse ways in which women find triumph and solace, freedom and redemption as they navigate pathways through all manner of life-changing odysseys.
The redemptive power of the sorority was one that Kennedy experienced first-hand during lockdown, when she found herself a blow-in in Co Clare, with two small children and precious little in terms of a social circle.
“Luckily, I had been at a toddler group just before lockdown,” she says, “and we all found ourselves in the same boat when the pandemic hit. We really bonded over that experience. I had been so used to being out and about, meeting people, and I really missed that. I didn’t have my usual outlet of music. But we all became pillars of support for one another, and that also fed into this record. From a female perspective, you need that sense of community to survive as a mother of young kids. My husband didn’t have that same need, but I think women need to have that sense of community.
“I just thought women are amazing and I want to focus on that for this record. We are resilient and we do take care of one another, of the little people and family life, on top of our artistic stuff. So I thought, let’s try and find something in the tradition that reflects the strength of women, and the beauty of the fact that they won’t lie down, weeping and wailing, but they’ll stand it up and go forward.”
With Tara Breen on fiddle and Tony Byrne on guitar, there are some deliciously delicate arrangements woven throughout Shorelines. Kennedy’s reading of Father Father, a song whose refrain of “Go dig my grave” found an entirely different purchase in the hands of Lankum earlier this year, delves deep into another space, where vulnerability and strength go hand in hand.
The tunes are every bit as vigorous as Kennedy’s song choices. “Many of them carry on that sea theme,” Kennedy says. “There are connections with Cape Breton Island [in Nova Scotia], and there’s a Scottish reel in there too. It was just fun to let rip with those tunes, and to have space for such joy and freedom on the record. The truth is that we all love playing tunes – and this was a moment to celebrate the physicality of playing together live.”
Kennedy’s decision to return to Ireland, and specifically to Clare, is one she’s certain was right, even if it landed her in a county where she had to set about laying down fresh roots.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she says. “Going out into the Burren refreshes the mind and gave me an access point back into a traditional setting for new music. I’m probably playing more Irish music now than I ever have, now that I’m living in Clare. Playing all the sessions and playing all that repertoire again, I’m just loving it – and the landscape here too is so inspiring.”
Her coastal home wended its way into the DNA of Shorelines, thanks also to the skills of the Grammy-winning producer Todd Sickafoose. “Todd made it more spacious sonically, so that you get a sense of the ocean,” Kennedy says. “I’ve always lived close to the water. It’s been a feature throughout my life, and I hope I never move again. I love it here.”
Shorelines is released on Friday, July 7th
