It’s been five years since my dad turned on
PBS just in time to hear Scottish balladeer George Donaldson singing the
touching tribute The Old Man, which served as his introduction
to the group Celtic Thunder, whose music quickly took my family by
storm. On December 8th, we had the opportunity to see George in concert
in the intimate setting of the Harp and Fiddle pub in Pittsburgh. My
parents, my fiancé Will and I made the trek, stopping along the way for
lunch with the dear friends responsible for my meeting Will. As the
only member of our quartet not intimately familiar with George’s music,
he looked forward to becoming better acquainted with this accomplished
singer-songwriter.
The concert was set to start at 7:30 p.m., but we arrived shortly before
5, and shortly after 5, we were allowed to go in. We were led to a
table for four right up against the stage; Will had managed to secure
the best seats in the house. Shortly after we arrived, George took the
stage for a sound check and performed a shortened version of I Wish I Were Back Home in Derry, which shares its melody with Gordon Lightfoot’s The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
At that point, we were left to order off the special George Donaldson
Concert menu that had been drawn up, so the four of us shared pretzels,
shepherd’s pie and fish and chips and awaited the beginning of the
concert.
Having previously seen Celtic Thunder’s Ryan Kelly and Neil Byrne
together in a similar format, I expected that George’s concert would
proceed in a similar fashion. It basically did, except that, as there
was no one onstage for him to banter with, he interacted directly with
audience members more often. He also had a general narrative scope to
his concert, though he made several joking comments to encourage the
appearance of complete spontaneity. While he did take some audience
requests and probably made some last-minute song decisions, several of
his selections flowed together naturally, particularly the segment
chronicling a life-changing experience for him as a performer.
He detailed a time when he had started working for the money rather than the passion of performing. He had recently seen Saving Private Ryan, so when he sang The Green Fields of France
- a ballad about the futility of war later recorded by Celtic Thunder
as one of its most moving ensemble pieces – it really struck a chord
with him, and he felt his passion returning. Later that night, he got
into a conversation with one of the few people present for his concert,
and the audience member requested he sing a Harry Chapin song. Upon
learning that George didn’t know who that was, he begged him to buy one
of his albums and even gave him the money to pay for it. George later
did just that and was transfixed by the storytelling genius of this
singer-songwriter whose songs were usually too long to be heard on the
radio.
This story was punctuated by his performances of Green Fields of France and A Song for Harry Chapin,
his lengthy and touching tribute to the late singer. I was
particularly hoping he would sing that song, since Harry is Will’s
all-time favorite singer and I knew he would especially appreciate it.
He followed it up with a performance of two of Harry’s songs, starting
with the tender Tangled Up Puppet, a touching address to Harry’s
growing daughter that is particularly meaningful for George, whose only
child is a daughter, as well as for me, especially with my dad right
across the table. He also performed Harry’s most widely known song, Cat’s in the Cradle, another bittersweet song about parent-child relationships.
The deeply personal thread that tied these songs together was present
throughout the evening as he casually chatted in that rumbling brogue,
laughter in his eyes even as he filled the set with tragic tunes
prompting him to say, “If you came here to be cheered up, you’ve come to
the wrong place.” Of course, that was an exaggeration, and uplifting
or cheerful songs were not in short supply. He sang several songs of
his own composition, including a tribute to his beloved wife Carrie, a
recollection about his early days as a musician in Burlington, a
speculative ode inspired by an autistic fan and the title song of his
second album.
He also covered many well-known folk-rock and pop songs, starting with James Taylor’s Fire and Rain. Others included Elton John’s Your Song, Simon and Garfunkel’s Homeward Bound and John Denver’s Leavin’ on a Jet Plane. None of these included much in the way of background, but he performed The Who’s Pinball Wizard
as a demonstration that he could rock with the best of them, and he
expressed his admiration for Jim Croce, another musician who, like Harry
Chapin, specialized in story-songs and died young in a tragic accident.
Croce merited two songs, Time in a Bottle and Bad Bad Leroy Brown, which Ryan performed as part of Celtic Thunder’s It’s Entertainment.
Other more folk-oriented selections included Peter Hames’ Ordinary Man, the song of an enraged and disenfranchised worker and Ralph McTell’s Grand Affair, as well as several songs he had performed, either solo or as a group song with Celtic Thunder, including Rita McNeil’s Working Man, the first song of the night on which he openly encouraged the audience to sing along; Caledonia, a traditional tribute to Scotland; The Old Man; Galway Girl; the gentle Scarlet Ribbons (For Her Hair); the Piano Man-esque Red Rose Café; and his always-rousing cover of The Proclaimers’ I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), which ended the concert.
Throughout the whole concert, it was just him and his guitar, and he
took no breaks except for the occasional pause for a sip of Diet Coke.
He was warm and personable and occasionally snarky, and the music of his
accent was pure magic, even if he often joked that we probably couldn’t
understand half of what he was saying. Everyone in the audience of
perhaps a hundred or so seemed to be having a wonderful time as he
shared his anecdotes and insights and the rippling majesty of his
resonant singing voice and superior guitar-playing.
While the only thing available for sale after the show was George’s
first album, which we already have, he graciously stayed long enough
that anyone who wanted an autograph or a photo with him could get one.
We opted for the latter, giving us a wonderful memento of an evening of
superlative musicianship and balladry. It was a wonderful opportunity
for my parents and me, who have treasured George’s artistry for years,
and a perfect way for Will to immerse himself in his work. In fact,
toward the end of the concert, he passed me a note to say that he’d
never enjoyed a concert more than this one. It really is the most
personal way to experience a great musician, and I’m so glad that the
lads of Celtic Thunder have begun to branch out into these more intimate
side-projects. If you love songs that tell a story and musicians who
pour their souls into their performances, I hope you will have the
chance to see one of George’s pub concerts. He doesn’t do many of them
in the United States, but for a very reasonable price, you can get an
evening of warm fellowship and exceptional music.
