VIDEO: Our reporter is dancing to beat of her own bodhrán at the Pulses of Tradition in Cork

Though she is haunted by her forays into trad music at school, the Pulses of Tradition have now

WHENEVER I come across someone playing traditional music I can’t help but be visited by the ghosts of my own primary school efforts — the sound of a cheap, poorly played, and soon-to-be-neglected tin whistle echoes in my mind, along with nightmarish visions of my formidable Irish dancing instructor.

Like a lot of other children in this country, I was forced into Irish dancing from a very young age. Some loved it — the straight backs, the curly wigs, the intricate costumes. But I knew, deep down, it wasn’t for me. Some people were just born to perform — and I wasn’t one of them.

Fast-forward 20 years or so and, as a journalist with the Irish Examiner, I’m asked to write a quirky story about Pulses of Tradition — a traditional Irish music, singing, and dancing show. To my immense horror, I’m asked backstage before the show to try some Irish dancing and take a few lessons on the bodhrán. My brow began to sweat at the mere suggestion, but I acquiesced nonetheless.

Tentatively approaching the Triskel Arts Centre, I was met by Tereza Bernardova, a performer who had been given the unenviable task of whipping me into shape. And no, she’s not Irish. Born in Prague, Tereza developed her love of all things Irish in her home country, before coming to the University of Limerick to study Irish dancing.

Personally, I couldn’t muster the same enthusiasm. Surely this tall, willowy dancer would take one look at my flat-footed bumbling, throw her hands to the sky, and decry my efforts as a crime against art, against nature.

But within half an hour we were leaping and bounding across the stage and having the time of our lives. Learning something called a brush dance, we could be seen bouncing over and tip-toeing around a regular old broom, smiling and laughing when I got something wrong which, admittedly, was often.

There was structure, of course, but it wasn’t rigid or strictly enforced. I soon realised this whole dancing business was a fluid construct, designed to be modified, personalised, and sometimes even improvised — which is exactly what made it fun.

It couldn’t have been more different to what I had experienced as a child which, as I’m only learning now, was a watered-down version, a follow-the-steps-or-else affair that had all the beauty of movement harshly stripped away.

With rosy cheeks I moved on to the bodhrán lesson as taught by another star of the show, Eoin Coughlan.

It was easy enough to pick up and I managed to get the hang of the basic movements and sounds fairly quickly. It wasn’t until later when I saw the full performance that I realised just how basic my foray had been.

From the opening shindig it was abundantly clear this was not just any ragtag bunch of musicians — this was the crème de la crème of traditional Irish music.

Tereza Bernardova, Andrew Vickers and Ciara Callinane-Ryan in the Pulses of

Tradition show at Triskel.

Considering this, the group could easily have used their undeniable talent as a crutch, going through the motions to create an enjoyable set and sending their satisfied audience off into the night.

Instead they went above and beyond, infusing every second with energy and spectacle. While it would have been enough to merely play their instruments and play them well, the Pulses of Tradition cast put their hearts and souls in to the performance — and the audience loved them for it.

A varied bunch from all across the world, the onlookers tapped their feet, sang along, and laughed with abandon at the quick wits and sharp tongues of the performers.

There’s a good reason Pulses of Tradition is Cork’s top rated Tripadvisor performance. So grab your mates and get on down — for the ceoil agus craic is mighty.

Pulses of Tradition takes place at Triskel Christchurch every Thursday and Friday night until mid-September. For more, go to triskelartscentre.ie, pulsesoftradition.com, or call 021 4272022.