'Dirk in Down' by Frank Galligan

Thanks to Frank Galligan for this review of the concert by Dirk Powell and his daughter Amelia (above) in Rathfriland, Co. Down, on Sat. 10 June:

Thanks once again to Andy Peters and Frontier Promotions. Another great gig in lovely Rathfriland where Dirk and Amelia Powell blew us away. They were on a busy Irish tour and heading early the following morning to Doolin in Clare, and we were so privileged to have them up north in a venue where I recently saw the versatile Richard Hurst, architect of Bluegrass Omagh, bring the house down with his one-man show 'The specialist', set in the Appalachian Mountains in 1929. Richard hilariously plays the title role of Lem Putt, expert in the art of privy making, who has to sell the idea of outdoor WCs to sceptical mountain folk! Another string to a well lauded bow for Richard.

The Appalachians play a huge part in Dirk Powell’s life too, as does Cajun music. Amelia’s mum is Christine Balfa, daughter of the legendary Dewey, about whom father and daughter spoke with great affection. Dirk recalled nervously playing his first set for Dewey Balfa, whose reaction prompted Christine to say: 'Dad, that’s mean!' Dewey replied: 'I mean to be mean!' They got on famously thereafter. Dirk plays accordion, fiddle, and banjo, while Amelia plays guitar and has a voice that soars, to complement the beautiful Mourne Mountains outside. When she sang the haunting 'Assume the worst', you could hear a pin drop.

What adds greatly to Dirk’s performances are his thoughtful and compassionate stories... you’re compelled to listen. Dirk’s fiddle was bought by his paternal grandfather, Kentuckian James Clarence Hay, for five dollars in 1920. He also discovered - to the delight of his audience - that his ancestors hailed from County Down, and that one, James Green, not only got thrown out of church twice for playing fiddle, but got blown up while operating a moonshine still!

Dirk soaked up the songs his grandad passed down — including tunes like 'Pretty Polly', 'Down in the willow garden', and 'Knoxville girl', all of which describe women meeting brutal deaths at the hands of their lovers. Although Powell adored his grandfather’s unique version of 'Pretty Polly' (the first song on his most recent CD), as he was singing it on a particular day, he realised such violence is often all too real. 'I thought about my daughters and my grandmother and other women in my life, and I just thought, "I’m not giving glory to these antihero violent men in these songs anymore." I just could not allow the words out of my mouth again. I stopped in the middle of the song.' Instead, he wrote 'I ain’t playing Pretty Polly', which he duets with Rhiannon Giddens, in which he vows: 'No more tales of women killed by drunken violent men/ They don’t deserve their stories told, I won’t raise my voice again.' Now, he travels with Amelia, and although the past permeates their voices and instruments, the present is acknowledged... and must be. For the old and beautiful to survive, the warts must be removed every so often.

As father and daughter reminded us that ‘Reuben’s train’ is ninety-nine coaches long, we all went full steam ahead with them, knowing we were in the safe hands of a damn good brakeman - described by Steve Earle as an 'artist of unique vision and unbending integrity'.

© Frank Galligan