'He thought like a jazz musician': Iain Ballamy to play tribute to Matthew Sweeney
Left, Iain Bellamy; right, the late Matthew Sweeney.
English saxophonist Iain Ballamy first met late Irish poet Matthew Sweeney at the end of the 1990s, during the making of a jazz television series filmed in Southampton. The pair had a passionate and mutual love of jazz, yet the connection between them seemed more powerful, immediate and unspoken.Â
âI think by the way I played, and by the way he wrote, we just knew that we liked each other,â says Ballamy. âWe could relate. We clicked.â
 The saxophonist remembers Sweeney reading two poems: one about a man swimming the Channel â on the back of a horse (âCrossingâ); another on an all-night card game between four men and their Uncle Charlie, who was âstretched out in his coffinâ, dead (âPokerâ).
âI was struck by the way Matthewâs mind worked, by his extraordinary flights of fantasy and imagination,â says Ballamy. âHe thought like a jazz musician: the poems were free-flowing, a stream of consciousness â they made all kinds of unpredictable connections. There was also something dark, humorous and bitingly honest about his writing, and that appealed to me too.âÂ
After filming, the men made off with a bottle of red wine from the studioâs green room, and jumped on a train back to London. âWe talked and drank and laughed the whole way,â continues Ballamy. âBy the time we pulled into Waterloo, Matthew already felt like an old friend.â
 Over the next 20 years the bond between the duo deepened and developed, helped perhaps by their similar outlook on the world. Both, for example, had a staunchly European sensibility that reached out beyond the borders of birth and abode.
Sweeney was born in Lifford, Co Donegal, moved to London in 1973 and lived in Berlin, Paris and Timisoara in Romania; he settled in Cork in 2008. His guiding light was Kafka, his work remains highly regarded in Germany, and he is the second-most translated modern Irish poet, after Seamus Heaney. âI donât think Matthew was a Vote Leave person,â jokes Ballamy.

Fifty-eight-year-old Ballamy may be renowned as âthe fantastic Englishmanâ who was one of the founding members of iconoclastic British â80s collective Loose Tubes and a key member of English prog-rock drum legend Bill Brufordâs band Earthworks, yet he has also forged a distinctly continental identity.
In the late â90s he formed Food, an ambient electronica duo (plus occasional guests) with Norwegian drummer and electronics wizard Thomas Stronen; so far three Food albums have appeared on quintessential European jazz and new music label ECM. Ballamy also has a second Anglo-Norwegian pairing, Little Radio, with virtuoso button accordionist Stian Carstensen.
Both musician and writer were adventurous spirits too, non-conformers ever-eager to challenge themselves and expand their work and practice. As well as his 16 award-winning collections of vibrant, mischievous and darkly fabulist poems, Sweeney wrote poetry and novels for children and co-wrote a satirical crime thriller with English poet John Hartley Williams.
The scope of Ballamyâs work is dizzying: from collaborating with famed English folk singer June Tabor to writing film soundtracks and appearing as a soloist with the BBC Philharmonic. Ballamy and Sweeney were also committed and generous teachers and mentors. âI think we were both fascinated by the many different facets of the disco ball, of the whole,â says Ballamy.
The pair worked together on a number of intriguing ventures, from a 2001 joint commission to mark the opening of the Jerwood Library at Trinity Laban Conservatoire in London, to gigs at a Berlin jazz club and an ambitious cross-arts project titled An Apeâs Progress as part of the 2015 Manchester Jazz and Literature Festivals.
The world premiere that brings Ballamy to Cork this month, however, is a posthumous one. A concert co-commissioned by Triskel Arts Centre and Cork World Book Fest, and supported
The English saxophonist is coming to Triskel to play a piece inspired by the work of his friend, the Cork-based poet who died in 2018
by the Arts Council of Ireland, The Owl is Ballamyâs response to a poem of the same name that Sweeney wrote over 12 haunted and helpless nights in October 2017 while waiting for a neurologistâs diagnosis. The news was not good. Sweeney was to die of motor neurone disease ten months later, aged 65.
âMatthew sent me âThe Owlâ shortly after heâd written it and I promised him that, whatever was to come, I would make a setting for it,â says Ballamy. âAnd then, after he died, I wrote the music as a way of both cauterising the loss and paying a tribute to him. I think of it as a response piece â to Matthew, our friendship, his poetry and his predicament. Itâs also all tied up with ideas of mortality, darkness, hope, music and truth. I tried to be honest about it all.âÂ
 Ballamyâs music for âThe Owlâ is structured in a similar way to the poem: the composition alternates between âquiet ambient improvisationsâ that accompany the 12 stanzas â recited by celebrated stage and screen actor Denis Conway â and written tunes that echo the varying themes and moods of each one, closing with âa kind of Irish airâ titled âDonegal Sonâ. The outstanding quartet Ballamy has assembled comprises the leader on saxophones, Huw Warren on piano, Matthew Sharp on cello and Roy Dodds on percussion.
âIn my imagination, Matthew is something like Jiminy Cricket â heâs there with me, like a partner or presence,â says Ballamy, smiling. âI can imagine so strongly how heâd react to the concert. I know he would like it, that heâd have been thrilled.âÂ
- Â The Owl is at Triskel, Cork on Saturday, 23 April, at 8pm (triskelartscentre.ie) as part of Cork World Book Fest (corkworldbookfest.com)


