Brogeen The MagicFiddler

Molly Purcell, my grandmother, gave me my first violin. Although it was tiny, a quarter size, it was a bit big for me. I was 3 years old. I remember breaking it ( I probably just knocked the bridge over) and hiding it behind the wardrobe in mortification.

The following Christmas 1964, Santa in his wisdom, left me a new one under the tree. I remember both my parents smiling at me  and my strange mix of disappointment and wonder when unwrapping it. My Dad played violin a little himself. He’d taken it in up in his teens and had a few lessons in the college of music, where I was to follow. Dad’s style was good, he played the melodies of popular songs from the 40s and 50s to my ma. Apart from the house parties, he never played in public as far as I know.

Dad was keen that I should learn and gave me my first lessons. Even though I was still only four or five, we clashed a lot, with him locking me in the parlour until I got my bowing right. Eventually, when I turned 7, he sent me to the Royal College of Music in Chatham Row. My teacher for the next 10 years was Nell Kane, a lovely Dublin woman and a fine classical violinist.  

I hated it. My weekly violin lessons took me away from my pals. I quickly became the geek in school and the neighbourhood, carrying my tiny fiddle case with me every where. I hid my head in embarrassment as my school class mates shouted out ‘here comes Brogeen the magic fiddler’. (Brogeen was a character on an Irish tv programme popular at the time) There were some positives, I got to perform in the school play and made sound effects ( ponticello) for someone having their guts removed on an operating table. 

It was a lonely road though, as I travelled alone in and out to lessons. Every week I would scratch out lines on the school’s toilet wall and cross them off, like a jailbird marking the passing of a sentence. I knew the lessons were expensive for my parents so I didn’t make a fuss. Eventually, I told Nell I didn’t want to do exams and hoped that would be that. But she spoke to my father and they agreed that I should continue lessons without exams. I got to grade 6 and stayed on for a few years. (I went back and did my grade 8 exams a while ago and passed. It only took fifty years)

Then something wonderful happened, I was about 14 and was practicing Bach alone in the kitchen, where the sound was lovely. I closed my eyes and kept playing, leaving behind the music on the page. I started improvising ( I didn’t know it was improvising ). It felt like I was flying, the ground beneath my feet disappeared. I rose above the housing estate and flew as the music played me. Everything changed from then on. A friend told me recently that the experience was probably heightened by my teenage hormones. It felt religious. 

As I moved on into my teens I saw ‘Horslips’ play live and was swept away by them. Charles O Connor played a shiny black electric violin and was the coolest guy on the planet. I stood at the foot of the stage at their feet. I saw myself then and there.

By the 80s Horslips had disbanded and I heard on the grapevine that Charles was selling off some of his instruments, it was about this time that my band InTuaNua signed a record deal with Island records in London. U2’s manager Paul Mc Guinness, with whom I was friendly, happened to be in the record company office. I told Paul about Charles and how I could really use a good electric violin. Paul kindly gave me a loan of some money and I got a taxi over to Chelsea and bought the shiny black violin and a beautiful mandolin from Charles.

Now that I think about it, perhaps about time I moved some of my instruments along too ?