Watching Celtic Thunder From the Best Seat in the House, Erie, PA, 10-15-10 Concert Reviews

On October 14, 2009, my parents and I attended our first Celtic Thunder concert at the Warner Theatre here in Erie, PA. On October 15, 2010, we attended our second, also at the Warner, this time with my brother Nathan in tow. Can we count on October 16, 2011, lads?

I’ve spent my life being mesmerized by Irish and Scottish music, so it’s no surprise to me that I would find Celtic Thunder enjoyable. Yet I have always gravitated toward artists who have been performing since long before I was born, and I’m fiercely loyal to the Irish Rovers, so I was cautious in my embrace of this PBS powerhouse quintet. I was certain that the two groups would never have to compete for my affections; my first impression was that Celtic Thunder took itself too seriously and felt too manufactured. Their vocals were impressive, and Ryan Kelly’s luminous rendition of Desperado, which introduced me to the group, remained firmly lodged in my mind, but they still felt very much like a passing curiosity rather than My Next Big Obsession. Little did I know...

I fell in love with Celtic Thunder slowly but completely. I first listened to them shortly before Christmas of 2008; by St. Patrick’s Day of 2009, I’d memorized the bulk of the first two CDs, seen the PBS special in full and watched some interviews. I had a much better sense of their personalities. And I was keen to trot off to Buffalo to see them perform. The timing wasn’t great, so we skipped it, and I feared it would be just as impractical when they hit a major city near us in the fall. “If only they’d come to Erie!” I moaned, convinced by my dad’s assertion that we’d never land such a hot act. I’m glad he was wrong on that score.

Last year’s concert was fantastic. We sat three rows back from the orchestra pit, where there were two or three rows of additional seating, and were able to get a wonderfully close view of these talented vocalists and musicians we’d been following all year. After the concert, we joined the crowd hanging around to wait for the boarding of the bus. I saw them all come out of the theatre to stash their luggage, and a couple of them stopped to chat and allow for some photos. Just as Ryan was getting to the bus, I worked up the nerve to ask him to pose for a picture with me, a request which he graciously accepted. It was a good night.

But this year’s concert was even better. This year, I decided that the time had come to thank PBS for all those years of watching everything from Sesame Street and Jakers! to Peter Paul and Mary’s Christmas special and Celtic Thunder itself. The inspiration for this generosity was the pledge level that included a ticket / Meet and Mingle combo for this year’s show. I called in and was surprised to find them still available. I’d already purchased three tickets to the concert, but I bought one for myself, even as I worried about being on my own for the entirety of the evening.

To calm my nerves a bit, I left a message on the official Celtic Thunder forum, hoping I might connect with someone and thus not risk being a complete wallflower during the pre-show event. I received a very kind response from a woman coming in from Ohio with her daughter, and much to my relief, I spotted them as soon as I walked in the doors of the theatre, and my arrival was early enough that by the time we were invited to leave the lobby, we’d introduced ourselves and pledged to stick together.

I did a little reading about the pre-show reception, a change from previous concert tours, which have included post-show Meet and Greets that are more like receiving lines, with each individual getting a short time with the vocalists in attendance, just enough for an autograph and a picture. The general impression I got was not very positive. I read many complaints about the new format favoring the outgoing; in most cases, people were seated around tables of six or so, and the guys came around to each table for a limited amount of time, so it wasn’t uncommon for someone with a forceful personality to dominate the conversation. What’s more, the format was hardly conducive to picture-taking, and it sounded like there was a constant feeling of them being rushed along to the next table by their manager.

I was pleasantly surprised, then, to find that there were no tables at our Meet and Mingle aside from a snack table and a couple of tiny tables just big enough to serve as a suitable autograph-signing surface. It really did feel like mingling as the vocalists and instrumentalists weaved their way through the room, sharing some unhurried conversation with each little cluster of people. We didn’t do such a stellar job of separating ourselves into six large groups, but that didn’t seem to make a difference; they arrived much earlier than I expected, around 6:35, and by the time they left, everyone had gotten in some brief but meaningful chatting.

I’m so thankful that my new friends Meileen and Shelley reached out to me as they did, since I would have felt very awkward otherwise trying to wedge myself into someone else’s group, and I’m not sure if I would have managed to get any pictures at all. As it was, the three of us took turns snapping each other. I haven’t seen any of the ones with me in them yet, aside from the one that someone nearby took of the three of us with my camera; I can’t wait to see how they turned out.

Another nice surprise was the fact that we got to spend time with not the promised two but four performers. With at least one person in close proximity to every point in the room throughout the event, the behavior was perfectly orderly, with each attendee cheerfully waiting his or her turn. We first met with violin virtuoso Nicole Hudson, who came over so quickly and started speaking with us so casually that at first it didn’t click with me that she was a member of the band. She asked us where we were from and which of the lads were our favorites, and we cheerfully replied. She was very easy to talk to and extremely friendly.

Next up was George Donaldson, the bald, burly Scotsman who is the oldest member of the vocal ensemble. I was especially excited to meet him, as I tend to think of his as Celtic Thunder’s anchor. An experienced balladeer with a tonal richness in each performance I’ve heard few vocalists achieve, he would be my favorite member of the group if I weren’t so smitten with Ryan, whose first solo album goes on sale this week. To my chagrin, I didn’t quite catch every word George said to us; his Glaswegian brogue is thick, and while it’s a joy to listen to, it’s also sometimes a tad difficult to decipher.

But I understood his main comment that he was feeling melancholy at the moment since his wife and daughter were flying out of Erie International Airport as we spoke, ending their week-long stint on the tour with him, and he hoped he wouldn’t be too sad to sing that night. Despite his wistfulness at the departure of his family, he was every bit as warm and wonderful in person as I would have expected. He seemed touched when I told him how much I’m reminded of my late grandpa, also named George, when he sings The Old Man, and he apologized that I wouldn’t be hearing it that night. I’m especially keen to see how that photo with George turned out. My only regret with his visit is that it began with him offering a firm handshake to each of us, but when he came to me, something else caught his attention, and soon we were talking and the handshake never did happen. I suspect he has quite the grip.

It was a little while before operatic tenor Paul Byrom made his way over to us. We told him how much we love his solo albums, and he informed us that he planned to stay on after the tour to arrange some solo gigs here in the US. He also told us to keep an eye out on Twitter for news about an upcoming solo project. Twitter, incidentally, has done wonders for allowing fans to truly feel as though they are getting a peek into these performers’ lives. Celtic Thunder is not a banter band; virtually no talking occurs on stage. But boy, do the quips fly on Twitter! That was also where I learned that enthusiastic Damian McGinty, the youngest member of the group who just turned 18, shares my passion for the TV show LOST, and I loved reading his thoughts on the final season, especially since they often were in line with my own. Anyway, Paul was lovely, and when it came time for pictures, Shelley went over to stand next to him, and he motioned for me to come join them. “I’m trying not to touch you,” said Shelley, in deference to their tour manager’s warnings about respecting their personal space; he chuckled dismissively and drew us in for a cozy three-person side-hug before moving on.

We were the last people Neil Byrne spoke with before heading out. He seemed to have a little trouble extricating himself from the back of the room, but we were told not to worry, he didn’t need to change as the others did, so he wasn’t quite so pressed for time. All-star musician Neil has been an integral part of Celtic Thunder from the beginning, switching instruments with ease and doing his best to make the jigs and reels as entertaining as possible. Recently, however, he has come to feel like a shadow member of the ensemble, even getting his own solo tracks on albums and joining the lads on vocals in group numbers. Indeed, I had sort of gotten the impression that Celtic Thunder had morphed from a quintet to a sextet, but the program covers, posters and t-shirts all exclude him, so it’s hard to say precisely what role he plays. What is clear is that Celtic Thunder would be much poorer without him.

He came over to us in his black suit and matching kilt and was completely charming. Like Paul, he hails from Dublin, so his urbane accent is lilting but poses little challenge in the way of comprehension. I felt a little silly with my program from last year, in which the only pages that feature him are so dark that I figured his autograph wouldn’t show up; the page he ended up signing was Watching Celtic Thunder As a Woman, which was simply because it was the last light-colored page in the book. I hope he was not affronted by the randomness of this autograph placement; if he was, though, I think all was forgiven when I informed him that I’d just ordered his EP, which caused him to break out in a large, grateful grin. It’s quite a perfect storm of Celtic Thunder goodness - the Christmas album, the concert, Neil’s EP and Ryan’s album, all within the space of a couple weeks. Not that I’m complaining!

The Meet and Mingle officially lasted from 6:30 to 7:30, but by the time Neil left at 7:05 or so, several people had already made their way out into the theatre at large or to the merchandise table near the front entrance. My new friends, printed e-mail from the Warner in hand, had to get to the front desk to sort something out with their tickets, which had gotten lost in the mail; I stuck around for a couple more minutes to grab another cup of punch and a few goodies before I headed down to see what I could plunk my money down on. Naturally, I bought a program, but when I saw that there was a calendar, I couldn’t resist snatching that up too, while wishing that the kiosk where I work sold it so I could get a smile out of looking at the lads throughout my shift; goodness knows I never hear them on the mall radio. I also indulged in a pair of green glow sticks and a pack of buttons, and it all came in a snazzy, heavy-duty gift bag with “Celtic Thunder” printed on it.

My parents met up with me at the merchandise table, but we soon parted ways again as they made their way to their seats, which turned out to be closer than I thought, about the same distance away as last year but more toward the middle. I, meanwhile, could scarcely believe it when I was ushered to a seat in the front row of the orchestra pit at the dead center of the stage. I’d somehow managed to finagle the best seat in the entire house.

To my left was a man who’d traveled from a couple of hours away, and this kind gentleman caught Keith’s guitar pick when he tossed it off the stage after his Beach Boys medley in the second act but later gave it to the teenage girl sitting behind us. To my right was an empty seat, and next to that was another young man who became a source of much amusement when he returned to his seat halfway through the first song of the second act, prompting Paul to tap his wrist with exaggerated exasperation and then, during the final song, reach down and shake his hand to show that there were no hard feelings. The lights came down so suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, that I can’t help wondering if this was a planned shtick - that they intended to catch people by surprise and then integrate the resulting tardiness into the act. Even I was a couple seconds late sitting down, and I was standing just outside the pit for the entirety of the intermission.

The concert began as last year’s did, with the dramatic extended instrumental opening of Phil Coulter’s Heartland, toward the end of which the lads emerged from the darkness and mist to strike dramatic poses as the thunderous drums continued. I watched the fog slowly creep down the steps of the platform on stage, as deliberate as a slinky, before leaving the stage to pass directly through me, causing me to shiver with cold and delight. I hope that Celtic Thunder will always begin their concerts with this song; I can’t imagine a better way to start. The choreography was much the same as it was last year, as were the vocals, though I found it fascinating to be able to watch them harmonizing from such a short distance away, especially during Paul’s big line toward the end. The main difference I noticed - one that caught me enjoyably by surprise - was Ryan singing the stirring “Déan trócaire, déan trócaire, a Thiarna” toward the end.

That was the first of many surprises of the night in terms of performances, particularly during the first act. I hadn’t read up much on what songs would be featured in this concert, nor had I glanced at the list of songs in the program, so most of the first half caught me entirely off-guard. I’d heard of Heritage, the upcoming album that focuses on traditional Celtic music, but all I knew about the set list was the fact that Damian would be singing Buachaill Ón Eirne (Come By the Hills), which I would probably consider his signature Celtic Thunder song, but that the entire thing would be in Gaelic instead of just one verse. Because Damian’s voice has deepened dramatically, the song already has a different flavor to it than on the first DVD, and it’s magical to hear his tongue dance over those Irish words in such a seemingly effortless manner.

Prior to the final three songs in the first act, it was all new stuff to me from then on. Keith Harkin, who has ditched his feathery hairdo in favor of more closely cropped locks, mesmerized me with his delicate finger-picking and tender vocals on Michael Peter Smith’s The Dutchman, which is threatening to overtake Mountains of Mourne as my favorite of his songs. The only unfortunate part of this performance was that a large speaker stood directly between him and me, with the result that I couldn’t see much below his shoulders for a majority of the song, but that did nothing to reduce my sense of wonder at his masterful performance.

I had heard a rumor that George and Ryan would soon have a duet, and I was thrilled when this came to fruition as they joined forces for Coulter’s Gold and Silver Days - which, curiously enough, is not on the set list, though some of the lyrics to the chorus are featured elsewhere in the program. Each of them had a solo in the first act; George’s gentle vocals breathed serenity in the Skye Boat Song, a traditional lullaby dealing with the legendary 18th-century figure of Bonnie Prince Charlie, and Ryan tore his saucy way through the equally traditional Black Is the Colour, seemingly relishing the sense of power that came with the lights changing color every time he pumped his fist in the air.

These were great moments, but Gold and Silver Days was pure enchantment and is poised to be my favorite track on the new album. The closest George and Ryan have really come to a duet before is the first verse of Christmas 1915; here, their magnificent voices complement one another wonderfully in an ode to simple childhood pleasures that seems especially fitting for both of them. This one goes right along with George’s usual family-centric fare, but it’s a departure for Ryan - and yet I get the sense that the sentiments contained therein may be closer to the real Ryan than just about any song he’s recorded for the group thus far.

My other favorite among the songs I’d never heard before was Home From the Sea, another Coulter song, which is a rousing ballad that pays tribute to those who risk their lives to rescue sailors out on the ocean. It’s an ideal group song because of the lengthy verses that allow each singer to take several lines, so each man gets the spotlight before joining with the others on the harmonious chorus, which was simple enough and repeated enough times that by the end, I was singing along.

Paul waxed romantic with the somewhat familiar traditional Robert Burns tune Red Red Rose, and I got a kick out of seeing him and Damian do a duet, singing Clifton Bingham’s Just a Song at Twilight as they sat on the steps. Though it’s a serious song, they inserted a bit of fun into it by making moony eyes at each other throughout the performance, but Neil played it entirely straight on his only solo of the night, Coulter’s gorgeously aching Noirin Mó Stoirin. The lyrics aren’t available online yet, but as best I recall, it had to do with a man in exile hoping to reunite with his true love. Sad, heartfelt, and a perfect vehicle for Neil’s impressive upper register. This delicate performance demonstrates that he’s got just as much in the way of vocal chops as the main five. He shared the spotlight with Keith on the electrified Whiskey in the Jar, which was easily the most hard-rockin’ part of the first act and which involved both of them playing electric guitars and zooming across the stage so fast that I swear I felt a breeze from Neil’s kilt.

For the most part, though, Neil was stationary and playing the drums, the guitar or some other instrument. He and the other members of the band were highlighted in the rollicking Belfast Polka and later, in act two, in Appalachian Roundup. Keyboardist David Cooke, who also serves as the musical director, is the oldest member of the band, but his energy was infectious, particularly as he led the clapping in Belfast Polka. Declan O’Donoghue really knows his way around a drum set, and Brendan Monaghan furnishes most of the distinctly Irish-sounding instrumentation, which is so prominent in the first half of the show. Nicole Hudson and Katie Holt are swift as the wind with their bows racing across the strings of their violin and cello, and Joanna Byrne completes the Celtic sound with her flutes and delicate harp-plucking.

I just about fell out of my chair when the lads, Neil included, burst onto the stage for the initially a cappella, then hoe-downish version of Bill Staines’ Sunday School classic A Place in the Choir. This is an ideal way to show off each member’s vocal range, since the verses speak specifically of different types of singing voices. Hearing Damian take the “bass,” “the one at the bottom where the bullfrog croaks and the hippopotamus moans and groans with a big to-do,” was a hoot, especially since the rest of the guys feigned shock and mock-fainted. There was more silliness going on in this number than any other, with the guys taking every opportunity to joke around. Their moves included a couple of endearingly goofy line dancing routines and the imitation of several of the animals mentioned in the song. I tried to mouth the words to this classic I know so well, but I was so busy cracking up I couldn’t get too far.

This served as the exuberant finale for the first act, notable for its total immersion in traditional Irish and Scottish sounds. I immediately loved every one of the songs although I hadn’t heard most of them before, and it was a thrill to experience them for the first time on this night, when I was close enough to stage that if I’d stretched out my foot a bit more, I could have kicked it. Celtic Thunder’s last two albums have been pretty short on music that actually sounds Celtic, so I was very happy to see such a balanced presentation at the concert. I adored everything about the first act, from the old-fashioned outfits to the sense of discovery, and the intermission was just long enough to give me time to touch base with my parents and brother and my Meet and Mingle buddies before seating myself for the It’s Entertainment portion.

The vast majority of the songs in the second half come from that album, which came out in February of this year, though a few songs from earlier albums turn up, along with one whose album placement I haven’t figured out, as it hasn’t yet turned up on an album and doesn’t quite fit in with Heritage. Act two begins with the fantastic group song Take Me Home and ends with Ireland’s Call, the Celtic Thunder rallying cry that always gets everybody up and marching. Both were written by Coulter and predate It’s Entertainment; it’s hard to imagine the show without them. The lads seem to love ribbing each other during these big group numbers, whether that involves lifting up George’s kilt to reveal the boxers underneath or becoming so overcome with mirth, as Keith was in the most somber line of Ireland’s Call, that continuing to sing is impossible. The kilts only came out for that grand finale, during which the rather nasty scar that Damian received beneath his knee after taking a tumble from his bike a couple weeks ago was all too visible; the lads spent most of the rest of the second act in snazzy suits.

Despite George’s warnings about possibly performing under standard, he channeled his emotions as he faced another lengthy separation from his wife and daughter into especially heartfelt performances. From where I was sitting, his eyes looked moist during his poignant rendition of Neil Diamond’s Hello Again, and he and the audience bolstered each other’s energy during the exhilarating performance of the Proclaimers’ Life With You, a joyous celebration of a happy marriage. As wonderful as all the lads are at what they do, George has a special gift for connecting with the audience. I swear he aimed a Spockian raise of the eyebrow at me on a couple of occasions, but I imagine that most of the people there felt at some point that he had looked directly at them. He makes a real effort to include everyone, and while he is on the stage, particularly during Life With You, it feels as though he’s enveloping the entire audience in a great big bear hug.

Aside from the opening and closing numbers and the purely instrumental bits, the only repeat from an album prior to It’s Entertainment was I Want to Know What Love Is, the Foreigner ballad Keith sings on the second album. This is probably my least favorite of his songs, whereas I really like Chicago’s Hard to Say I’m Sorry, which is listed in the program and which I would have expected, given that most of the songs from this part of the concert come from It’s Entertainment. Keith does a perfectly good job with it, I’m just a little confused as to why they decided to go with that one instead of the more recent choice. I much preferred his Surfing Medley, which again allowed him the chance to pull out his electric guitar.

Paul was a shameless flirt throughout the second act, pulling out all the seductive stops for the old Dean Martin standard Sway and augmenting his show-stopping performance of Coulter’s Doo Wacka Doo with as much hat-tipping, cane-clicking and shoe-tapping as possible. He looked mighty classy in his top hat and tails, donning an upper crust accent as he sang of his delight in listening to his grandparents’ old records from the 1920s. A loving tribute to a distinct era in American music and a hysterical high point in the concert, this one shows off Paul’s cheeky sense of humor and his fancy footwork while also encouraging intergenerational bonding over music, which is something that has happened quite a bit as a result of Celtic Thunder.

Damian’s performance of Michael Buble’s Home felt sincerely wistful; he was in the United States for his 18th birthday, and after a month here, my guess is that he is getting a little bit homesick. I was especially looking forward to seeing him do Frank Loesser’s Standing on the Corner, which he sings with such relish while dressed in a blazing alabaster outfit worthy of LOST’s Man in White, Jacob. Unlike on the It’s Entertainment DVD, he has no girl to link up with here, but that in a way makes the song even cuter, since Damian still seems genuinely mystified by his own chick magnetism.

Neil, Keith and Ryan joined forces for Hallelujah, and their harmonies were even more ethereal in person. After I listened to the album, I found myself wishing that I had the chance to watch Ryan sing Bryan Adams’ Everything I Do, since that one is not included on the DVD. Accepting Ryan’s invitation to “look into [his] eyes” as he sat scarcely ten feet away and sang one of the most romantic songs I’ve ever heard is an experience I’ll not soon forget, and as I listened to him caress each affectionate word, I couldn’t help thinking that if Ryan ever does decide to get married, this is the kind of husband he will be.

I loved the intimacy of that performance, but the one that completely threw me for a loop was Coldplay’s Viva La Vida, at the beginning of which he materialized seemingly out of nowhere, leaping over the back of the park bench on the right-hand side of the stage and landing neatly on the seat. I was looking forward to Jim Croce’s Bad, Bad Leroy Brown, but this performance was just as theatrical, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard any scuttlebutt about him covering such an explosively popular song. Exultation filled the chorus as he stood with his arms upraised in a gesture of triumphant supplication, eventually to be joined by Neil. So is this a sneak peek at an album so far off in the distance it hasn’t been named yet? Could it be a track on his solo album? Or was this just a concert exclusive? Whatever the case may be, I’m glad I didn’t see it coming. It was one of my favorite moments of the night.

Before the grand finale of Ireland’s Call, the lads all came together again for U2’s I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, a thrilling group number done mostly as an ensemble and featuring the full force of the backing band, particularly Nicole and Katie on the strings. When it came to expectations for the concert, it sure seemed like everyone in the audience found what they were looking for that night. I know I did.