Flocking hell! Children of Lir swan song casts spell on inquisitive kid
SATURDAY NIGHT was to be my daughter’s great outing among the social elite of Wexford.
The venue could not have been more salubrious. The golden hued wooden interior of the National Opera House sang out in gleaming notes ‘perfection’ as we took our seats on the first floor for the final production of the Children of Lir.
I was in all my finery, including my new boots, (not the ones that arrived from China), and she, showing some sartorial ingenuity, wore a glittering black mask, fitting for the home of opera in Ireland. When I heard that the Celtic folk opera concert was coming to Wexford, I thought it would be a great way to introduce the Whirlwind Princess to some Irish culture and folklore and in the process to steal her away from Grizzy & the Lemmings and Tom & Jerry.
Of course some jellies were secreted away in my coat just in case things didn’t go to plan.
We all know the story of the Children of Lir and of how Lir’s beautiful wife Eva gave him four children – Aodh, Fionnula and twin boys, Fiachra and Conn and of how things take an unfortunate turn when Eva’s sister Aoife, who he marries, becomes very jealous of all the time Lir spends with his children, and of how she turns them all into beautiful swans.
Admittedly I did no reading up on the show beforehand (especially the over 8’s suggestion) and was as surprised as my daughter to find no swans on the stage in the first acts. Restlessness set in as quick as a gobbled pack of jellies and I was soon explaining the birds and the bees and the buzzards to my charge who wanted to know how the children were born, what happened to Eva, where she went when she died etc.
What with its world class acoustics, naturally my booming voice travelled everywhere as I, in answering, tried in vain to keep a level of control on proceedings. A man in the row directly in front of us twitched in anger and gave us a half-look of disdain over his twisted shoulder. It was all going underground and not only on the stage.
At the beginning of the second act four swans appeared causing me no end of relief. With that my daughter got to her feet and started mimicking them. Legs out! Of course! Arms out - full stretch. You betcha!
Luckily the ladies beside me looked on more in appreciation than horror and before I knew it I was relaxed and enjoying myself, rocking along to the excellent music in my seat. The following stream of consciousness line of questioning ensued: ‘Swans don’t wear shoes. Swans don’t dance. Where are the swans?! What do you mean they’ve flown away?!! Where backstage? I want to hug that swan! How did Eva die? Where are Eva’s children?! Why is Eva not evil? Why is Aoife evil? What’s evil? What’s jealousy? Why can’t I drink a smoothie here?! Where are the cartoons? When is the screen changing?! Will they be swans forever?! The screen still hasn’t changed!! How will the Tuatha de Dannan escape from underground? What happens when you die?’
At one dramatic point in the show one of the choral singers collapsed. It could have been me! At one point I too wanted to follow the gods underground! But the show went on and the impressive dancing continued on and off stage and apart from a near toilet emergency we had an amazing time and brought some levity to the dark tale of rain, mist, sadness and eternal youth.