Striking the right note in dealing with death
Harpist Bríd McGowan tells John Meagher how her music helps with her day job as an embalmer, and why we shouldn’t be afraid to talk about dying
Bríd McGowan has some sage advice for any parent whose child expresses an interest in learning to play the harp: don’t buy the instrument until they have done multiple lessons. “Harps,” she says, “can be extremely expensive, and it’s an instrument that is challenging to learn. You’ve got to be sure your child wants to keep it up.”
McGowan, 26, is one of the finest young harpists in the country. Her prowess is well known in trad circles far beyond her native Sligo.
Now, employing her pet name, Brídín, she has just released an EP, Ocean of Stars, that demonstrates just how versatile the harp can be. Using a loop pedal, she has taken an instrument that is emblematic of Ireland and given it a thoroughly modern makeover. Its sound is remarkable, and the songs, which she composed, showcase a special talent.
McGowan’s own harp — a beautifully ornate, mid-size version that’s rooted in the Irish tradition — was hand-made in Canada and cost €6,000. She comes from a family steeped in music and she has been playing one instrument or another since she was four. At 14, she attended a concert in which the harp was centre stage and she was smitten.
“It was a [concertina player] Noel Hill concert and [the harpist] Laoise Kelly was playing with him. I couldn’t even tell you where it was, but I just remember thinking, ‘I. Want. That.’ I wasn’t a spoiled child, but I was begging my mum and she was saying, ‘You really need to know that you want to do this because we might need a new car and money for a harp, and lessons would have to be found’.”
Her parents, already aware about how diligent she was when it came to practice, supported her and a harp was found. She studied under the distinguished harpist Gráinne Hambly in Co Mayo.
“I became so obsessed with the instrument that my fingers would bleed from practising,” McGowan says. “But I didn’t want to stop because it’s an instrument that makes the most beautiful sound.”
Although living in the picturesque Enniscrone, a surfer’s Mecca, McGowan largely gave the waves a miss. “I think surfing needs a huge amount of dedication to master,” she says, “but, for me, it was all about the music. And it’s like everything — the more you practise, the better you become.”
When it came to finding the money for her current harp, every family member pitched in, including her grandfather, Gerry Doagher.
“He’s 85 now and is going through dementia,” she says. “Myself and my mother care for him. When I go down to him, he might not know what day of the week it is, but put a fiddle in his hands and he will play and play. And he’s so much better once he has played, even to talk to him.”
If McGowan’s instrument of choice is unusual, her day job is certainly eyebrowraising. The 26-year-old is a funeral director and embalmer — a profession she inherited from her father. David McGowan came to nationwide prominence thanks to the wellreceived RTÉ documentary, The Funeral Director, late last year. Bríd featured too. The film lifted the lid on one of the most unusual of professions and one, truth be told, that most people would recoil from.
It was a job that Bríd was always likely to do. Her sisters Eithne and Mary are embalmers also, although the latter has left the profession and is now working as a scientist.
She says she loves being an undertaker, but admits it can bring considerable challenges.
“We prepare the person who has died for the family. It’s such an important thing for them. And when you look after an old person, their body tells the story of their life.”
She is well aware of the reluctance of people to talk about dying.
“But death is part of our life’s journey,” she says. “People should be far more accepting of the fact that we will die and not ignore it, because anything pushed away like that is going to build up a fear and people end up with this huge fear of death. When you think about it, life and death and passing on and the cycle of nature are beautiful.
“It’s so heartbreaking to lose someone, of course, but when someone dies at an old age — and I can’t stress the ‘old’ part enough — it’s lovely because they’ve gone this huge circle of life. Their body has worked for that long without anybody telling it to.”
The tough aspects of the job come when it’s a young person that’s on the mortician’s table. It’s especially hard when it’s a child.
“I’m lucky,” she says, “in that I have my dad and my sister Eithne that work in this job too, so we can talk to each other in those moments when it’s very difficult. We’re very supportive to each other — we always say, ‘If this is getting a bit too much for you, go out and get some fresh air and then come back’.
“With our job comes a huge responsibility for confidentiality, so we can’t tell our friends what you’ve experienced that day or who you’ve been working on.”
McGowan finds music to be an ideal coping
‘We prepare the person who has died for the family. It’s such an important thing for them. And when you look after an old person, their body tells the story of their life’
‘I’ll play in the cockpit and we’ll have guests sitting in business class’
mechanism in such times and she says she is always aware that her job is to make the body look as radiant as possible. “It’s the last time their loved ones will see them.”
Usually, it takes three hours to prepare a body. But those who have died in traumatic circumstances, such as a car crash, need considerably more time. Sometimes, McGowan spends 10 hours on a body in an effort to make it as presentable as possible. “Some cases involve a lot of reconstruction,” she says.
Covid has brought its own challenges, not least in the way we say goodbye to the dead.
“At the moment, it’s just 10 mourners, and that can be really difficult for families. My dad worked out that the typical funeral has about 35 close relatives and friends, and if it was possible to have that many — or even 25 — it would make a big difference.”
And yet, she believes that for some people, severe restrictions on the number of people who can attend a funeral service can be a blessing in disguise.
“It can be daunting and exhausting for some to have to meet so many people over those couple of days,” she says. “For some, it’s easier when the numbers are low.”
But there is aspect of the Covid funeral that should remain, she believes.
“Live-streaming has been able to help people feel that they are there too. And for people who can’t get to the funeral, especially those living abroad, it really can be a godsend.”
She is looking forward to playing gigs once the pandemic has ended and she already has an idea about putting on a concert with a difference.
Besides the undertaker aspect of their business, the McGowans also offer glamping — posh camping — from their Enniscrone garden. It’s transport-themed and David, never one to shy away from a challenge, managed to transport a disused Boeing 767 from Shannon Airport to Sligo.
“I have a plan of playing a little show in there,” she says, with a smile. “I’d play in the cockpit and we could have guests sitting in the business-class seats.”
It’s an idea with a difference from a musician whose chosen instrument and profession are cut from different cloth.
Ocean of Stars is out now