On several levels, it is pretty safe to say that without Ryan’s Fancy we would probably not be here at all.
But like many fortuitous events, nothing about this was obvious at the time. How did a trio of Irishmen come to change the culture of Newfoundland and Atlantic Canada?
Ryan’s Fancy were not the only Irish musicians who came to Newfoundland in the 1970s, drawn by the vibrant local culture, and the huge and hungry audience for their music. The Irish Rovers & the Charlton Showband certainly spent lots of time here, and the Sons of Erin eventually took up residence. Even more authentic folk stars like Dolores Keane realized that there was a treasure house of songs and music here, just waiting for someone to take up the torch.
And for what it is worth, some local bands tried. Figgy Duff devoted their career to Newfoundland music, as did lesser-known lights like Tickle Harbour and the Red Island Band. Unfortunately, most struggled with local indifference. Some managed to make a go of touring, but the rest barely made any headway at all. Like a lot of small nations, Newfoundlanders often seem to need an outsider to point out what should have been obvious all along.
The three men who became Ryan’s Fancy were looking more for steady work than artistic inspiration when they first arrived in St. John’s in the early 1970s. What they found was an audience eager to hear their own music played back to them in a highly skilled and energetic fashion. Newfoundlanders were already well familiar with the band’s repertoire of Irish ballads and street songs. When Fergus O’Byrne, Dennis Ryan and Dermot O’Reilly started to include local songs in their lively performances, something massive clicked between them and their audience.
With their live shows exploding, the CBC, invited them to host a new show they were going to start filming in Newfoundland. It would involve traveling around the province, meeting older Newfoundlanders, examining the province’ history and culture through the lens of its music. While locals were always featured, anchoring the show was Ryan’s Fancy themselves. Somehow they were able to learn and arrange dozens of Newfoundland songs, some common, some so obscure they were known only by one family. They then presented these songs as if they had been playing them for years, with all the honesty and musical dexterity they were capable of. For the first time Newfoundlanders saw someone taking their culture seriously, and playing their music in an unpolished yet sophisticated manner.
In later years the show’s locations expanded to the rest of the Maritimes. Figures like Stan Rogers, Alistair MacGillvary and the young Barra McNeils received their first notice on the show. Cape Bretoners embraced the show with the same fervour as Newfoundlanders, delighted to hear music by and about themselves on television. In both places traditional music gained a place in the mainstream that it never really surrendered since. Children who saw those shows in the late 70’s, children like the Barras, the Rankins, Natalie McMaster and ourselves went on to start new bands, and build new musical worlds based on that very solid foundation.
Perhaps all this would have happened anyway. I don’t know. I have seen the Ryan’s Fancy shows in reruns, and they still offer something special. Dermot, Fergus and Denis’s ability to create an instant rapport with total strangers was very unusual. Their interest in Newfoundland culture was genuine, and their love of the place and people convinced many here that there was indeed something special about this place, something worth fighting to hold onto.
‘The Green Shores of Fogo’ comes from the album ‘Songs From The Shows’, a relatively recent release, and the only one which the band actively endorses. The song is a beautiful ballad, one of the greatest Newfoundland love songs. The arrangement is not overly complex, yet it still features some of the band’s many strengths – poignant singing from Denis, delicate concertina from Fergus, and intricate guitar and mandolin from Dermot. It is not as raucous as many of their arrangements, but it serves the song very well. Prior to its appearance on the TV show, the song was practically unknown; it is still obscure by any standard. Yet by it’s very presence on the CD it is given legitimacy; whether I want to believe it or not, Ryan’s Fancy have endorsed it, and by recording it, made it ‘good’.
I do not subscribe to the belief that three Irishmen recording local songs made them any better - any worthier - than they were before. However, that is effectively what happened. And while it says a lot of sad things about Newfoundlander’s self-esteem (and lack thereof), the end more than justified the means.
Many folk musicians see ‘preservation’ as a their goal. I disagree; if there is no longer any excitement, or energy, or meaning in the music, then why bother? Preservation for its own sake leaves the music in a museum, desiccated and ultimately of little use. Ryan’s Fancy grabbed Newfoundland music from its box in the back of the closet, where it lay almost forgotten, polished it and dressed it up, and by their inspired example made the rest of us realize how good it really was.
And for that I am grateful.
www.avondalemusic.com/ryansfancy.html