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The musician’s table at The Lisheen is uncrowded. Only John on box, Derrick on flute, and Gerry on banjo, when Alex and I walk in. Over the course of an hour the pub fills with people, noise, smoke and music. Marie, who I met in Kinvara, settles in, as do two women fiddlers from the States. Mick and his whistle sit between the flute and box player. The three other women on fiddles at the end of the table are from Australia, France and Australia, respectively.

I know people here now. I’ve photographed some of them before. It paves the way that I’ve sent them photos in the past. I don’t start shooting until the energy of the room heightens, and then I felt free to walk around and work various compositions. There, his head and the corner of his fiddle ground the frame nicely in the lower right corner, and I wait for the row of musicians against the wall to look good. With my camera wedged against the cigarette machine, I fire through half a roll. He leaves to get a pint, and the composition falls apart. Sitting down, I see how Maria’s face and her bow arm form a frame for the other musicians. Alex’s flute is a nice line at the bottom of the frame, as I wait for the three women’s faces to be visible amid their fiddle bowing. I don’t actually think this clearly when I shoot, I look and move and try subtle changes in position until a picture feels like it’s coming together. Once I’ve constructed the basic structure, I wait for the moments to happen.

It’s 3pm. I ought to be able to call Robin now, so with the music at a fevered pitch I dial her on the mobile. "Here’s your wake-up call love," I say over the din, and let the music roar across an ocean and a continent.

2 April 2000

Galway