It had been quite an exhilarating day anyway. I managed to survive the whole day wearing heels in preparation for the Wells.

I sit down in my seat and as the curtain is drawn, in front of me is a shrine to the most Irish, leprechaun-like dream. It is all green. Just green. The day dresses, woolly cardigans and hairy men all ooze of ‘de’ Irish. Like a judge banging his hammer to get some order in the courtroom, Liam Ó Maonlaí patriotically places a harp in the middle of the stage like a stamp. He starts to sing and I smoothly get transported back in time to my Granny Moody’s parties in Clonbullogue, Co. Offaly, circa Barbie and Marathon bars. This is pretty much where I stay for the next hour and forty-nine minutes.

The dancers welcomed us all in to their party, filling the auditorium with their stories and fun. Like Trad music, the dance showed repetition and embellished movements to decorate the beautiful simple phrases. The dance and music echoed each other so poetically that my blood began to bubble with excitement. If there was ever a piece that could illustrate the feeling of what it is REALLY like when music gets so much under your skin that you almost become it- then Rian is your boy. This is the most all-consuming piece of dance theatre that I have seen in a long time. Thankfully it didn’t require me to sit still and was very much my own ginormous Trad session, involving lots of clapping and whooping.

The music, written by the great Liam Ó Maonlaí of the Hothouse Flowers, was close to perfection. I enjoyed watching the musicians getting involved in the dancing and the dancers getting involved in the music. The bodies became instruments and the instruments transformed into extensions of the body. The individuality and personality of all the performers was pulled out effortlessly as they each connected to the huge auditorium.

I wonder if my alliance to this piece is mainly based on the fact that I am Irish? Feeling how Michael Keegan-Dolan is so crassly being so too, made me forgive myself for wanting to jump from my third row seat onto the stage with spoons, singing my ‘diddly didely doos’. Yes, he may have played into the stereotypes but in reality, he showed more than an insight into Irish music; he showed who we are and where we have come from.

After the show, my accent seemed to revert back to my Celtic tones and I enjoyed how ‘Irish’ I am. Am I?

Heading home, I craved my next Trad session. Who would have known that Sadler’s could have the atmosphere of an ‘auld Irish pub’. Delightful. I am sure this is not the first and last time Rian will be here in ‘the ‘Don’. If you missed it, catch it again next time.