Hup! Learning the Rules of the Road for Irish Music and Dance

Wherever you may live, I'll bet good money that there's a traditional Irish music session somewhere near you — either a place where the Irish have settled, or where love has spontaneously kindled for their music's charisma, energy and many-faceted nuances. And where there's music, you may find dance: twin pastimes that wander hand in hand, waltzing sweetly through a kitchen or exploding to life in the corner of a pub.

I know this because ten years ago I stumbled across an Irish music and dance session at home in Alaska. It wasn't long after that I found myself on a plane to Ireland, searching for the pulse of a tradition that had wrapped its tendrils around my heart from thousands of miles away.

What I found in Ireland was a gymnasium floor that heaved in time as the people of an entire town danced on it, raising a cloud of mist up into the rafters. And a friend in the west of the country who introduced me to the joy of a few people leaping up to dance a half-set at a session, or watching someone beating out the rhythm of the dance with her feet on a wood floor, sean-nós style.

Isn't there a class on that? Finding my way into the dances was fairly easy: Community-driven set dancing and ceili dancing are advertised on social media, bulletin boards and dedicated websites like sets.ie, and there are plenty of classes — on their own, or before an organized dance — to help beginners get their feet under them. Both Irish music and dance are very much personto-person traditions: Once you've met people who are involved, they'll often connect you with others.

But years later, when I returned with fiddle in hand and hopes of playing a few tunes, I found the musicians' circle to be a little more opaque. I did find my way in, by following the twin standards of navigating any culture not your own: Check your sense of entitlement at the door and, when in doubt, introduce yourself and inquire politely. And as it turns out, when a huddle of Irish musicians see you coming with a musical instrument, they'll almost always make you welcome. And as it turns out, when a huddle of Irish musicians sees you coming with a musical instrument, they'll almost always make you welcome.

But there is also a set of unwritten, largely unspoken rules that stir beneath the surface of an Irish session. For some help in unraveling those I turned to button accordionist John Whelan, a seven-time All-Ireland champion who often teaches workshops to help people who didn't grow up in the world of sessions learn how to navigate those musical connections.

Both Irish music and dance are very much person-toperson traditions: Once you've met people who are involved, they'll often connect you with others.

A love letter to backers Whelan's first piece of advice was that when you step into a session you've never been to before, it's good to listen and get a feel for what's going on in the room.

What are you looking and listening for? Well, everything. Irish music remains an aural tradition with a spirit that's transmitted chiefly by ear, no matter how many sheet music transcriptions may pop up in Google.

If you play a backing instrument — guitar, bouzouki, or the oft-maligned bodhran, which is easy to play but not so easy to play well — then instrumentation is a good place to start.

Melodies rule the day during an Irish session and, as Whelan explains, "If you have two guitar players and you're a guitar player, you can introduce yourself and try and get in on the session — but it's gonna be hard to have three guitar players playing with a couple of instrumentalists." Unless you're capable of telepathy, once the backing instruments start multiplying, the best you can usually hope for is to trade off in turns — unless you're able to pick out a few melodies yourself.

When you step into a session you've never been to before, it's good to listen and get a feel for what's going on in the room.

Step into the circle Feeling out the pulse of a session isn't just about counting instruments. As Whelan explains, the quality of the musicians and the tempo they're playing at are all things you should think about before jumping headfirst into the deep end.

"I think generally speaking, you have to have some idea of what session etiquette is, and that is to blend in with the musicians, not to dominate," Whelan explains. "Not to all of a sudden take control and you're playing much faster or slower than everybody was playing all night."

It might help to think of approaching a session as joining an ongoing conversation: They're as much social transactions as musical ones, and a little social intelligence and sensitivity will go a long way in helping you strike the right note.

But you don't have to be a master player to make your session debut. As Whelan notes, "Even if you're a beginner or a learner you can sit on the periphery of the session, and if you don't know that many tunes, you can still at least try to learn tunes during the course of the session, as long as you do it quietly."

And if you didn't bring your instrument, choose not to play in that moment, or don't play at all, that doesn't mean you should turn around and leave. Pull up a chair and have a drink. Listening is a valuable contribution to the night too, and the best musicians are often the keenest listeners.

Take time to heed this reminder from Whelan, too: "One of the main things I say in my workshop is, it's always about the music. If you make the music first, and not you, whoever it is individually, then generally speaking it's going to be a good session. Music was here before I ever played, and it'll be here when I'm gone."

Whether you're listening, dancing or playing, if you use that kind of attitude as your barometer to judge the climate of a session, and approach each visit with the question of what you can contribute to the joy of the night, then you've got your ticket in the door.

It might help to think of approaching a session as joining an ongoing conversation: They're as much social transactions as musical ones, and a little social intelligence and sensitivity will go a long way in helping you strike the right note.

Rules of the Road for a Session

Blend with others. Be sensitive to the sound and feel of the room. You're there to feel out the tone that's already been set and contribute what you can, not to take things over or show off your latest solo.

Have a tune ready. If you walk into a session with an instrument, you may be invited to start a tune —which often means playing once through the tune on your own before others join in. Might as well be ready!

Listen, listen, listen. Merging into an aural tradition requires listening. Even if you're not playing in a session, you can still be part of it — and take a part of it back home with you — by listening with your whole heart. Buy a drink for the musicians while you're at it.

Look for open sessions. Most public trad sessions are open — but a few will be closed (invitation only) or run with mics, where only a few of the players have mics and thus amplification. When in doubt, just call the pub and ask if the session is "open" or if all musicians are welcome.

Consider music camps. If music and dance are your chief reason for traveling, consider centering your trip around the many music/dance camps that are available in Ireland and all around the world. They're a great way to learn and play with others, and to make connections that can last a lifetime.