Recollections of the Chieftains with the Nelson Village Dancers
By Gordon Peery
It was March 12, 1978 (or possibly 1979), and I was headed down with some friends to the Springfield (MA) Civic Center, to hear the Chieftains. I was excited because it was my birthday, and I could think of no finer celebration than seeing this world-‐ famous band – the consummate purveyors of Irish music. Little could I have known that ten years later, on my birthday, I would be playing the piano on stage with the Chieftains in Portland, ME. The story of how this came about has little to do with my own musical endeavors; rather it is the story of the power of the Nelson Town Hall and the contra dance community. A few years went by. I had been involved with the Monadnock Folklore Society in producing concerts (mostly of Celtic flavor) throughout the region. One evening I got a call from a Paul Gillespie, a lawyer who was very involved in the Boston Irish music and culture scene. He was organizing a tour for students from a traditional music school in Ireland (the name, like many other pieces of this story, is gone from my memory). There were perhaps half a dozen students, accompanied by two well-‐ established teachers, one of whom was the flute/whistle player Seán Potts, who had formerly played with the Chieftains. Potts was enough of an icon in Irish music that his name helped to fill the Nelson Town Hall, and we had a lovely evening in which the students all presented their musical skills quite respectably. Several months went by, and late one afternoon I got a call from Paddy Moloney, the piper and leader of the Chieftains. At first I didn’t make the connection, as I was struggling just to understand the heavy Irish accent that was coming over the phone. He said that his friend Seán Potts had told him about this wonderful little hall in a small rustic village, and he wanted to come and play there. We could not use the name “Chieftains” in our promotion, as it as not the full band, but of course it was not a problem to fill the house. Seán Potts was with them, as well as active Chieftain Seán Keane. It goes without saying that the music was wonderful, but it was what happened later in the evening that set the stage, as it were, for subsequent events. Once the concert was “over” no one wanted to leave, so we decided that we should do some dancing. Mary DesRosiers got up to call, and we instructed the musicians to play some reels. I don’t recall exactly how long this went on, but Paddy and the gang had never seen contra dancing, and they were quite taken with it. Eventually we retired to the house across the street, then owned by Betsy Taylor (and now owned by Eric and Sara Sandberg). There was a room in the back of the house where we gathered – several local musicians, including myself on piano, and commenced to play tunes and down various libations. The Irish lawyer, Gillespie, and his wife were part of the entourage, as was Seán Potts’ wife. They had a two-‐hour drive ahead to where they were going to be staying that night (or morning, as it was getting to be), and they were getting a bit anxious. But Paddy had a little trick up his sleeve. He would say “just two more tunes,” but after the first of those two, then he’d say again, “just two more tunes,” and so it went on for quite a while. As it turned out, this was also the birthday of Seán Keane, who would later say “I’ll never forget my fortieth birthday party – I wish I could remember it!”