Tags: tradition

For the past few years, I’ve been taking a trip to Spain at the end of September for the Cáceres Irish Fleadh. Last year I convinced my friends Liam and Monica to come along and they had a great time.

Like me, Liam just loves playing in sessions. Also like me, Liam likes to spend the gloomy short days of January thinking about travelling somewhere …and then playing in sessions there.

I told him I’d put together a list of potential trips for the discerning session hound. I figured I might as well share it here too…

First of all, there are Irish music festivals. Alas, most festivals don’t happen in the sunny climes of Spain. As you’d expect, most of them are in Ireland.

I’m heading to Carlingford at the end of this month for a weekend of Féile na Tána. I haven’t been before but it looks good. There’ll be the usual amalgam of workshops, concerts, and sessions.

Myself and Jessica will fly in to Belfast, then take the train down to Newry and get to Carlingford from there. You could fly into Dublin and get the train up to Dundalk, but the only Gatwick flights to Dublin are Ryan Air, and I’d rather entrust my instrument to EasyJet.

At the end of March we’re heading to Tullamore Trad Fest. That’s another one we haven’t been to before. Again, there’ll be workshops, concerts, and sessions.

Tullamore is just an hour away from Dublin by train and has plenty of accommodation options. We’ve booked into a nice-looking B&B.

There’s no avoiding Ryan Air for this trip and I want to take my good mandolin, so I’ve gone ahead and booked a separate seat for it. I don’t want to take any chances with an airline that actively seeks to elevate misery.

The festival I heartily recommend is Belfast Trad Fest at the end of July. It’s super convenient to get to with EasyJet flights from Gatwick—go to Belfast city airport, which is right downtown.

The festival offers a really good accommodation deal in modern student flats. The workshops are top-notch, and best of all, it has a really well-organised session trail. You can easily play in sessions all afternoon and evening.

This year, for the first time ever, Belfast trad fest is immediately followed by the all-Ireland fleadh, which promises to be pandemonium. I’ve never been to the fleadh before but I’m going to stick around Belfast for it.

You could head to the Willie Clancy Festival in Miltown Malbay at the start of July (the website seems to be having some issues right now). But good luck finding accommodation. The event is so big now that unless you’re camping, there’s not much chance of finding a place to stay. If you make it there though, non-stop sessions await. Non-stop chaos awaits too. That’s part of the deal. Great workshops though!

There are other festivals I haven’t been to but I’ve heard great things about. The Pádraig O’Keeffe Festival in Kerry in October sounds fantastic, especially if you like your polkas and slides. But it’s in Castleisland, which doesn’t have much in the way of accommodation. So unless you’ve got transport, it’s going to be tricky.

There’s a trad fest in Kilkenny in March. I’ve never been but they’ve got a session trail. You’d need to fly into either Dublin or Cork and then get on a bus. Either way, it’s Ryan Air from Gatwick.

I’ve also never been to the Ennis Trad Fest in county Clare in November but I’ve heard good things. Accommodation for the 2026 event is already in short supply though.

But you don’t need a festival to play in sessions. In fact, the kind of sessions you end up in at festivals have a different vibe to the usual sessions, simply because they’re formed of a hodge-podge of visiting players.

There a few spots in Ireland where you’re guaranteed a session pretty much any night of the week.

I love Galway. There are afternoon sessions in Taafe’s and Tigh Cóilí as well as evening sessions in the Crane and other places. You’d need to fly into Dublin and get the train from there. It takes about two hours.

Galway is busy in the summer time and accommodation can be pricy, but if you go off-season you can find some cheaper options.

Ennis has music most nights. There’s a regular bus service between Ennis and Shannon airport that’s nice and quick. You’d need to fly Ryan Air from Gatwick though.

And then there’s Belfast again. Even when the trad fest isn’t happening, Belfast has sessions seven nights a week. Check out the Belfast session guide Instagram account for up-to-date details.

I recommend staying in The Flint, but make sure you ask for a room on the top floor far away from the nightclub if you’re there on a weekend.

So, to recap, here are some festivals to check out:

• Féile na Tána in Carlingford, county Louth in January (I’m going),
• Tullamore Trad Fest in county Offaly in March (I’m going),
• Kilkenny Trad Fest also in March,
• Scoil Samhraidh Willie Clancy in Miltown Malbay, county Clare in July,
• Belfast Trad Fest at the end of July (I’m going),
• Fleadh Cheoil na hÉireann also in Belfast at the start of August (I’m going),
• Cáceres Irish Fleadh in Spain in September (I’m going),
• The Pádraig O’Keeffe festival in Castleisland, county Kerry in October, and
• Ennis Trad Fest in county Clare in November.

And then for year-round session action, you can visit:

• Galway,
• Ennis, and
• Belfast

I really like it when people post their end-of-year music round-up. Colly, Jon, and Naz have all posted about music they listened to in 2025.

I recognise almost none of the albums that they’ve listed. That’s because my musical brain has been almost entirely conquered by Irish traditional music.

2025 was a year filled with music for me. Mostly it was music that I was playing. I think I might’ve spent more time playing music than listening to music this year. I like that ratio.

Brighton has a healthy session scene. Most weeks I get to play in more than one. Even better, I had some great tunes outside of the pub environment, calling around to people’s houses or having them over for a nice cup of tea with some jigs’n’reels.

Most of my travel in 2025 was music-based. The Willie Clancy Summer School in County Clare. Belfast Trad Fest in Northern Ireland. The Cáceres fleadh in Spain. The inaugural Namur Irish Music Festival in Belgium.

There’s nothing better than being in a good session, and I enjoyed some great ones this year. I think my mandolin-playing has benefited from it too.

I also got hold of some albums released in 2025…

The second Copley Street album is, unsurprisingly, excellent.

The second volume of Mná na bPíob is, also unsurprisingly, also excellent.

But I think my favourite album of 2025 is Òran na hEala by Maurice Bradley. Terrific tunes, superb piping, and equally superb fiddle playing.

I’ve been in a session two with Maurice Bradley during previous tradfests in Belfast. I was looking forward to seeing him there again this year to tell him how much I like the album. Alas, he passed away shortly after the album was released. Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam. A great loss to Irish music.

Oh, I did get one album released in 2025 that isn’t traditional Irish music, and it’s really, really good:

Deep Black Water by Salter Cane.

Okay, that’s cheating because I’m in the band, but honestly, I think the album is genuinely excellent. Every track is a banger, in my somewhat-biased opinion. Have a listen for yourself and see what you think.

My wish for 2026 is that I’ll have plenty of opportunities to play those songs live. In between all the sessions.

For the past couple of years, myself and Jessica have been going to the Belfast Tradfest in the Summer. It’s an excellent event with great workshops, sessions, and concerts. And it helps that Belfast is such a lovely city to spend a week in.

What struck me the first time we were participating in workshops there was the great mix of age ranges. It always warms my heart to see young people getting really into the music.

Then I found out about their bursary sponsorship scheme:

For many young musicians, financial barriers stand in the way of this invaluable experience. Your support can make a real difference by sponsoring a bursary that covers the cost of tuition for a deserving student.

Last year, I decided to forego one month’s worth of donations to The Session—the contributions that help cover the costs of hosting, newsletters, geocoding, and so on. Instead the money went towards bursary sponsorships for Belfast Tradfest.

It was a great success that managed to cover places for quite a few young musicians.

So we’re doing it again.

Normally, I wouldn’t mention the ins-and-outs of TheSession.org over here on adactio.com but I thought you might like to partake in this year’s fund drive:

For the month of April 2025, any donations made to The Session will go towards bursary sponsorships for young musicians to attend workshops at this year’s Belfast Trad Fest:

thesession.org/donate

Maybe you’ve liked something I’ve written here. Maybe you enjoyed Resilient Web Design, the free book I published online. You can also read HTML5 For Web Designers and Going Offline for free now too.

I’ve never asked for any recompense for my online ramblings, but if you’ve ever wanted to drop me some money to thank me for something I’ve put out there, now’s your chance.

Any contribution you make will go towards fostering the next generation of traditional Irish musicians, something that’s very dear to my heart.

Brighton is blessed with plenty of traditional Irish music sessions. You need some kind of almanac to keep track of when they’re on. Some are on once a month. Some are twice a month. Some are every two weeks (which isn’t the same as twice a month, depending on the month).

Sometimes when the stars align just right, you get a whole week of sessions in a row. That’s what happened last week with sessions on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. I enjoyed playing my mandolin in each of them. There was even a private party on Saturday night where a bunch of us played tunes for an hour and a half.

There’s nothing quite like playing music with other people. It’s good for the soul.

Usually an end-of-year music round-up is a list of favourite recordings released in the year. But in 2022 I wasn’t paying very much attention to new releases. I bought a few albums on Bandcamp. They were mostly of—surprise, surprise—traditional Irish music.

Still, I had a very music-filled 2022. Mostly I was playing mandolin in sessions, both here in Brighton and wherever else my travels took me.

These moments were undoubtedly highlights of the year for me.

I no longer have Covid. I am released from isolation.

Alas, my negative diagnosis came too late for me to make it to UX London. But that’s okay—by the third and final day of the event, everything was running smooth like buttah! Had I shown up, I would’ve just got in the way. The Clearleft crew ran the event like a well-oiled machine.

I am in the coronaclear just in time to go away for a week. My original thinking was this would be my post-UX-London break to rest up for a while, but it turns out I’ve been getting plenty of rest during UX London.

I’m heading to the west coast of Ireland for The Willie Clancy Summer School, a trad music pilgrimage.

Jessica and I last went to Willie Week in 2019. We had a great time and I distinctly remember thinking “I’m definitely coming back next year!”

Well, a global pandemic put paid to that. The event ran online for the past two years. But now that it’s back for real, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

My mandolin and I are bound for Miltown Malbay!

Playlist J (part 2) – The Irish Mandolin – a website from Aidan Crossey

I had fun coming up five trad music tracks related to the letter J.

• Jenny’s Welcome To Charlie
• Jayne Pomplas
• Jig of Life
• Julia Delaney’s
• Jim Donoghue’s

On June 3rd, 2001, I launched thesession.org. Happy twentieth birthday to The Session!

Although actually The Session predates its domain name by a few years. It originally launched as a subdirectory here on adactio.com with the unwieldly URL /session/session.shtml

That incarnation was more like a blog. I’d post the sheetmusic for a tune every week with a little bit of commentary. That worked fine until I started to run out of tunes. That’s when I made the site dynamic. People could sign up to become members of The Session. Then they could also post tunes and add comments.

That’s the version that is two decades old today.

The last really big change to the site happened in 2012. As well as a complete redesign, I introduced lots of new functionality.

In all of those incarnations, the layout was fluid …long before responsive design swept the web. That was quite unusual twenty years ago, but I knew it was the webby thing to do.

What’s also unusual is just keeping a website going for twenty years. Keeping a community website going for twenty years is practically unheard of. I’m very proud of The Session. Although, really, I’m just the caretaker. The site would literally be nothing without all the contributions that people have made.

I’ve more or less adopted a Wikipedia model for contributions. Some things, like tune settings, can only be edited by the person who submitted it But other things, like the track listing of a recording, or the details of a session, can be edited by any member of the site. And of course anyone can add a comment to any listing. There’s a certain amount of risk to that, but after testing it for two decades, it’s working out very nicely.

What’s really nice is when I get to meet my fellow members of The Session in meatspace. If I’m travelling somewhere and there’s a local session happening, I always get a warm welcome. I mean, presumably everyone would get a warm welcome at those sessions, but I’ve also had my fair share of free pints thanks to The Session.

I feel a great sense of responsibility with The Session. But it’s not a weight of responsibility—the way that many open source maintainers describe how their unpaid labour feels. The sense of responsibility I feel drives me. It gives me a sense of purpose.

The Session is older than any client work I’ve ever done. It’s older than any books I’ve written. It’s even older than Clearleft by a few years. Heck, it’s even older than this blog (just).

I’m 50 years old now. The Session is 20 years old. That’s quite a chunk of my life. I think it’s fair to say that it’s part of me now. Of all the things I’ve made so far in my life, The Session is the one I’m proudest of.

I’m looking forward to stewarding the site through the next twenty years.

A Rare Smile Captured in a 19th Century Photograph | Open Culture

I wrote a while back about one of my favourite photographs but this might just give it a run for its money.

It was only near the end of the 19th century that shutter speeds improved, as did emulsions, meaning that spontaneous moments could be captured. Still, smiling was not part of many cultures. It could be seen as unseemly or undignified, and many people rarely sat for photos anyway.

Do you have a favourite non-personal photograph?

By non-personal, I mean one that isn’t directly related to your life; photographs of family members, friends, travel (remember travel?).

Even discounting those photographs, there’s still a vast pool of candidates. There are all the amazing pictures taken by photojournalists like Lee Miller. There’s all the awe-inspiring wildlife photography out there. Then there are the kind of posters that end up on bedroom walls, like Robert Doisneau’s The Kiss.

One of my favourite photographs of all time has music as its subject matter. No, not Johnny Cash flipping the bird, although I believe this picture to be just as rock’n’roll.

This is a photograph of Séamus Ennis and Jean Ritchie. It was probably taken around 1952 or 1953 by Ritchie’s husband, George Pickow, when Jean Ritchie and Alan Lomax were in Ireland to do field recordings.

I love everything about it.

Séamus Ennis looks genuinely larger than life (which, by all accounts, he was). And just look at the length of those fingers! Meanwhile Jean Ritchie is equally indominatable, just as much as part of the story as the musician she’s there to record.

Both of them have expressions that convey how intent they are on their machines—Ennis’s uilleann pipes and Ritchie’s tape recorder. It’s positively steampunk!

What a perfect snapshot of tradition and technology meeting slap bang in the middle of the twentieth century.

Maybe that’s why I love it so much. One single photograph is filled with so much that’s dear to me—traditional Irish music meets long-term archival preservation.

geoTrad - Google My Maps

Well, this is a rather wonderful mashup made with data from thesession.org:

The distribution of Irish traditional tunes which reference place names in Ireland

I don’t talk that much on here about my life’s work. Contrary to appearances, my life’s work is not banging on about semantic markup, progressive enhancement, and service workers.

No, my life’s work is connected to Irish traditional music. Not as a musician, I hasten to clarify—while I derive enormous pleasure from playing tunes on my mandolin, that’s more of a release than a vocation.

My real legacy, it turns out, is being the creator and caretaker of The Session, an online community and archive dedicated to Irish traditional music. I might occassionally mention it here, but only when it’s related to performance, accessibility, or some other front-end aspect. I’ve never really talked about the history, meaning, and purpose of The Session.

Well, if you’re at all interested in that side of my life, you can now listen to me blather on about it for over an hour, thanks to the Blarney Pilgrims podcast.

I’ve been huffduffing episodes of this podcast for quite a while now. It’s really quite excellent. If you’re at all interested in Irish traditional music, the interviews with the likes of Kevin Burke, John Carty, Liz Carroll and Catherine McEvoy are hard to beat.

So imagine my surprise when they contacted me to ask me to chat and play some tunes! It really was an honour.

I was also a bit of guinea pig. Normally they’d record these kinds of intimate interviews face to face, but what with The Situation and all, my chat was the first remotely recorded episode.

I’ve been on my fair share of podcasts—most recently the Design Systems Podcast—but this one was quite different. Instead of talking about my work on the web, this focussed on what I was doing before the web came along. So if you don’t want to hear me talking about my childhood, give this a miss.

But if you’re interested in hearing my reminisce and discuss the origin and evolution of The Session, have a listen. The chat is interspersed with some badly-played tunes from me on the mandolin, but don’t let that put you off.

Fairweather Fiddlers @ Brighton Acoustic Club Aug 2019 - YouTube

Myself and Jessica joining in some reels and jigs.

Fifteen years ago, I went to the Willie Clancy Summer School in Miltown Malbay:

I’m back from the west of Ireland. I was sorry to leave. I had a wonderful, music-filled time.

I’m not sure why it took me a decade and a half to go back, but that’s what I did last week. Myself and Jessica once again immersed ourselves in Irish tradtional music. I’ve written up a trip report over on The Session.

On the face of it, fifteen years is a long time. Last time I made the trip to county Clare, I was taking pictures on a point-and-shoot camera. I had a phone with me, but it had a T9 keyboard that I could use for texting and not much else. Also, my hair wasn’t grey.

But in some ways, fifteen years feels like the blink of an eye.

I spent my mornings at the Willie Clancy Summer School immersed in the history of Irish traditional music, with Paddy Glackin as a guide. We were discussing tradition and change in generational timescales. There was plenty of talk about technology, but we were as likely to discuss the influence of the phonograph as the influence of the internet.

Outside of the classes, there was a real feeling of lengthy timescales too. On any given day, I would find myself listening to pre-teen musicians at one point, and septegenarian masters at another.

Now that I’m back in the Clearleft studio, I’m finding it weird to adjust back in to the shorter timescales of working on the web. Progress is measured in weeks and months. Technologies are deemed outdated after just a year or two.

The one bridging point I have between these two worlds is The Session. It’s been going in one form or another for over twenty years. And while it’s very much on and of the web, it also taps into a longer tradition. Over time it has become an enormous repository of tunes, for which I feel a great sense of responsibility …but in a good way. It’s not something I take lightly. It’s also something that gives me great satisfaction, in a way that’s hard to achieve in the rapidly moving world of the web. It’s somewhat comparable to the feelings I have for my own website, where I’ve been writing for eighteen years. But whereas adactio.com is very much focused on me, thesession.org is much more of a community endeavour.

I question sometimes whether The Session is helping or hindering the Irish music tradition. “It all helps”, Paddy Glackin told me. And I have to admit, it was very gratifying to meet other musicians during Willie Clancy week who told me how much the site benefits them.

I think I benefit from The Session more than anyone though. It keeps me grounded. It gives me a perspective that I don’t think I’d otherwise get. And in a time when it feels entirely to right to question whether the internet is even providing a net gain to our world, I take comfort in being part of a project that I think uses the very best attributes of the World Wide Web.

Sessions Map

This is nifty—a map of all the Irish music sessions and events happening around the world, using the data from TheSession.org.

If you’re interested in using data from The Session, there’s a read-only API and regularly-updated data dumps.

Bad Character - The New Yorker

A fascinating thought experiment from Ted Chiang:

So let’s imagine a world in which Chinese characters were never invented in the first place. Given such a void, the alphabet might have spread east from India in a way that it couldn’t in our history, but, to keep this from being an Indo-Eurocentric thought experiment, let’s suppose that the ancient Chinese invented their own phonetic system of writing, something like the modern Bopomofo, some thirty-two hundred years ago. What might the consequences be?

Banjos and Discrete Technologies | stevebenford

An examination of how sites like The Session are meshing with older ideas of traditional Irish music:

There is a very interesting tension at play here – one that speaks directly to the design of new technologies. On the one hand, Irish musicians appear to be enthusiastically adopting digital media to establish a common repertoire of tunes, while on the other the actual performance of these tunes in a live session is governed by a strong etiquette that emphasizes the importance of playing by ear.

There’s an accompanying paper called Supporting Traditional Music-Making: Designing for Situated Discretion (PDF).

It’s Summertime in England so Jessica and I are eating the bounty of the season. Now is the perfect time for lamb. Yesterday we went to the Open Market and picked up half a leg of lamb (butterflied) from Tottington Manor Farm. This evening, we marinated it with rosemary, thyme, garlic, olive oil, and lemon and then threw it on the barbecue.

While we ate, we listened to a podcast episode. This time it was a documentary about salt from my Huffduffer feed. It’s an entertaining listen. As well as covering the science and history of salt, there were some interesting titbits on salt-based folklore. There’s the obvious one of throwing spilt salt over your shoulder (in to the eyes of the devil, apparently) but there was also one that neither of us had heard of: that offering someone salt at the dinner table is bad luck and warrants the rebuttal “pass me salt, pass me sorrow!”

Well, you live and learn.

Then we started thinking about other salt-based traditions. I have something in the back of my mind about a new year’s eve tradition in Ireland involving throwing bread at the door and sprinkling salt in the doorway. Jessica remembered something about a tradition in eastern European countries involving bread and salt as a greeting. Sure enough, a quick web search turned up the Russian tradition: “Хлеб да соль!!” ( “Bread and salt!”).

This traditional greeting has been extended off our planet. During the historic Apollo-Soyuz docking, crackers and salt were used as an easy substitute. But now when cosmonauts arrive at the International Space Station, they are greeted with specially-made portions of bread and salt.

We finished listening to the podcast. We finished eating our lamb—liberally seasoned with Oregonian salt from Jacobson. Then we went outside and looked up at the ISS flying overhead. When Oleg, Gennady, and Mikhail arrive back on Earth, they will be offered the traditional greeting of bread and salt.

In The Name of Willie Clancy « Arbutus Yarns

A really nice short film about the Willie Clancy Summer School. It makes me want to get back to Miltown Malbay this July.

The Keymaster: Patrick Olwell’s story - YouTube

The trailer for a documentary on flutemaker Patrick Olwell. The film should be done later this year.