THE IMPORTANCE OF BELFAST HOSTING THE FLEADH

1.65 million people descended on our wee city last week. There were people packed into small snugs of pubs, standing like sardines in packed-out bars filled with the undertone fizz of excitement, waiting at stalls to purchase correlating items that spark reminders of our town, watching with eager eyes to catch a glimpse of the local talent performing to thousands in the most intimate way they can. The Fleadh Cheoil was nothing but a huge success and, as much as it graciously pulled £60 million in revenue to our city, I think the meaning of its importance lies deeper than that. 

Never once have I seen or felt the way I have within our city the past week. Belfast is plagued with reminders of its past and connotations to its personality that demean its value. Reminders of violence, hatred and sectarianism will never not be associated with it, but as much as those sad reminders are an important collection of mementos to not let the past repeat itself, I do think the Fleadh was able to reconfigure those meanings head-on. It morphed Belfast into a temporary liminal space of love and appreciation for its hundreds of cultures, something we don't see often enough and something I hope will continue into its future.

I've been to festivals in the past, having the pleasure to attend Stendhal recently, and as much as I realised the similarities of feeling within walking place to place to see bands you've loved for years or a band you've just found ten minutes previous, the comfort of knowing the places you're standing in and being acquainted with the memories it holds to you personally made it that much more special. The Fleadh accommodated trad musicians, cover bands, rock bands, solo artists, newcomers and any in between, and placed them on a pedestal to the public. The music of Belfast is one long talked about, with a history rich and savoury of an appreciation for the talent that homes our city, but its appreciation is one consistently neglected.

Ticket sales are more than difficult to push, attendance of gigs is lower than ever and a level of disheartenment has become prevalent among our local artists, but the Fleadh served as a push in the right direction. People coming into the city for no reason but to see people perform. To be able to catch a glimpse of an artist or pick up the sound of a tuning guitar and deliver the ultimate compliment to an artist; listening presently. Hundreds of people crammed into spaces to be able to hear and laugh and sing with the musicians local to them. Trad music has lived within me as gentle reminders of my own past, songs that my Granda would have placed on the TV and listened to in a comfortable silence we could both experience. It has lived in my dad's life as music that has been played in bars after closing with people he grew up with and as a novel of moments that create his ties to his identity. It has lived within all of our lives, the drunken bellowing of songs about our past that we will sing into the future. Irish music is the sound of kinship and shared experience, so to see it experienced fulfilfully ten minutes out of my front door was a privilege.

The Fleadh became less of an event you “go to" and became one you enter within. The second you enter the city, you are inside its barricades and surrounded by its sound. I watched the sticky pint marks left on the tables, the busy nothingness of heading to the next artist’s set, and the children talking in wonder on the street before playing fiddle tunes that deny their inexperience. I heard the laughter of friends congregating by the walls of bars, the indecipherable sound of the clicking of heels by Irish dancers and women in heels too high, and the intoning lilting of an old man singing the same songs he did when he was 19. I felt the tangible excitement of a city once broken, the buzz in the air that hummed with the feedback of an amp and the reiteration that our city is worth it. That its musicians are worth it, its live bars are worth it and, most importantly, that its people are worth it.

Belfast has never felt as whole as it did last week; people from all over the world, from different parts of our island and different backgrounds within its walls, all came together to celebrate a culture of fellowship. There was no mention of religion, of political background, of hatred or violence that once defined us on a map. Love, gratitude and hope roamed our streets like an olive branch, and for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace lingered in our air. I have been to the past couple of Fleadhs but never did I think the one in my own city would stand out as much as it did. Belfast was given a platform to prove its worth to the world, and it exceeded higher standards than anyone could have placed.

My entire family of relations and friends have been talking about it since, the importance of a place like Belfast being able to host an event like this and the effort our council put in to make it one worth remembering. However, I think the Fleadh will be remembered for its curation of memories that flooded our streets. I saw someone say that the Fleadh was a “miracle”, and although I agree, I think it was for different reasons. It wasn't a miracle that our city was once united, because that is something we should all be capable of and have been capable of. It wasn't a miracle that artists received the attention they have been begging for for years, because attention is something their talent is more than deserving of. It wasn't a miracle that Belfast proved its safety and worth to people visiting for the first time, because this is our home and is one that should be safe no matter what your background is. The miracle came from the people living presently. From putting the past on a standstill and putting down our phones to experience the place in front of us within the seconds that follow. No talk of personal thought or opinion but a split moment shared in thousands of minds. 

This Fleadh was exemplary. It really was one of my favourite weeks I've spent in Belfast after living here for the near entirety of my life. Belfast deserved the chance to harvest revenue for its arts, it deserved the chance to experience Irish culture across cultural barricades, and it deserved the chance to prove that we can host events like this in the future; and that makes me hopeful. This Fleadh was unbeatable; until we venture to do it all again next year.