‘He was special, he was sublime...’
Leonard Cohen cherished his time at Lissadell House in Co Sligo in 2010, writes owner Edward Walsh
IN 2009 concert promoter John Reynolds began talking to us about concerts at Lissadell. Constance (my wife) and I had reservations. He said, “look, think about it”.
In January 2010 John called again, he had a proposal for what he said would be a magical concert — “Leonard Cohen”. And with those words we knew immediately this was something which had to be done.
We knew that Canada’s great poet and songwriter had a special affinity with Ireland’s great poet, W.B. Yeats. We had spent years putting together a magnificent collection of first editions, and paintings by the Yeats family and were preparing an exhibition. We asked if Leonard would open it. The answer was no, he doesn’t open exhibitions.
We greeted Leonard when he arrived in Lissadell, and left him in a series of rooms we had prepared for him, with William IV bookcases filled with first edition Irish poets, including a special first edition of the poetry of Eva Gore-Booth.
Then the call came; Leonard had wandered through his rooms down to the Yeats Gallery — he would open the exhibition, but in a quiet way.
So, the Lissadell Yeats Exhibition was opened. We gave him a first edition Yeats, and left him, respectful of his privacy, and were walking back to concert arena in a state of elation, when John Reynolds called — “Leonard wants to know why you didn’t come back to the Green Room, he wants to take time to show you his hospitality”.
We retraced our steps, mesmerised. As we arrived, we met the warmest welcome as he, the great master, poet, songwriter, legend, greeted us and asked us to pass some time with him. So, he said, he wanted to express his own personal appreciation for the welcome, and he loved the idea that we had taken the time and trouble to put together so much of the Irish poetry, and he had dipped into some.
We were enveloped by his sense of serenity, humility, charm and courtesy.
He was blown away by Lissadell, and he wanted to know why we had taken on this massive restoration project. He was genuinely interested — why were we so involved in restoration, in Yeats, Irish culture, poetry, the Celtic revival? He talked about our family, the children — he had his Lorca with him, and had met young Edward, just six.
He was so well informed about Ireland’s literature. We chatted about Yeats’s time in Lissadell, his time with Constance Gore-Booth (Countess Markievicz). He was fascinated by Eva GoreBooth. He loved the setting and was so delighted to be performing on a stage under bare Ben Bulben’s head, as immortalised by Yeats, and when he played he could see the Atlantic, in the shadow of that old grey mansion.
To hear Leonard recite the opening words of Yeats’s poem on Lissadell brought a rush of emotion.
The light of evening, Lissadell,
Great windows open to the south,
Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle. He said: “I am so pleased to be here in
The shadow of the great house
Where the great Master poet walked, and fell in love, and broke his heart
And we’re so privileged to be in a peaceful place like this
When so much of the world is plunged in chaos and suffering, so
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”
Later that evening he graced a special dinner prepared for him and his band, before he retired to the Pier Head Hotel in Mullaghmore to prepare for his friends and next day’s concert.
In memory his music will always be a testament to a less turbulent age, a more gentle time. In anyone’s life there are few people who make a singular impression. Leonard Cohen was singular. He was special. He was sublime.