The sudden death last Monday of west Kerry’s finest musician, Séamus Begley, has left a deep void at the heart of our traditional music. He was a singer of extraordinary tenderness and an accordion player who pushed his chosen instrument to its limits as he propelled the polkas and slides of Sliabh Luachra (and much else besides) into the stratosphere.
The family of Séamus Ó Beaglaoich was steeped in the Irish language and the music of west Kerry, and he served an invaluable apprenticeship at his father’s céilithe. Although he came from a farming background, he relished the opportunities that music gave him to jettison the tractor in favour of the open road. For Séamus, farming had too many ties that bound him to the land. His freewheeling playing and free-spirited approach to life coalesced beautifully in his live performances and in his fine albums, such as Meitheal, his ground-breaking 1992 album with Australian guitarist, Steve Cooney.
Séamus, along with his brother, Breanndán, and his sisters Máire and Josephine were instrumental in bringing the music of west Kerry to a wider audience and in the process, inspiring countless musicians and listeners to acquaint themselves with the traditional songs and tunes that define a core part of our Irish identity.
Séamus Begley recorded his first album (with his sister, Máire), An Ciarraíoch Mallaithe in 1973. He epitomised all that was central to our music, song and dance: an abiding passion for robust rhythms, a keen ear for the pathos of everyday life and a tender appreciation for the subtlest of phrasing, all married with a voice so rich in tone and warm in heart that it would slay the hardiest of listeners into submission.
Séamus was at his happiest when he was playing his beloved box and singing, and it didn’t matter whether that was at the fleadh ceoil, a céilí, a session, a gala concert hall or an all-night lock-in. His wit and vitality infused his music with an enviable lightness of being. He leaves a formidable legacy in his wake.