the Runcible Spoon

            On Tuesday evening, our class made an excursion to Bloomington’s very own Runcible Spoon, a charming little Irish pub with the most delicious tomato soup I have ever eaten. Every Tuesday evening, a more or less impromptu group of Irish musicians gathers to play, socialize, and drink free beer. The atmosphere is light and friendly, and the music adds a special charm to the evening. By watching the interaction of the musicians, and after speaking to them about their own experiences, it is clear that the purpose of the music reaches far beyond the music itself, extending into the interactions and connections of the cultural cohort created by the music.

            There were several Irish musicians in attendance. The renowned Irish flutist, Grey Larson, seemed more or less to be the leader of the ensemble, but in truth, the music flowed between them all in a way that makes a word like ‘leader’ seem out of place. Beside Grey sat Zach, another flutist, and around the circle sat Eric, the accordionist, a man from Indianapolis on a bodhran, Laurence playing a mandola, and Cindy on a classical guitar. Another woman, Marge, sat to the side and, at one point in the evening, she sang a beautiful, unaccompanied solo piece. The group filled the majority of the entry room of the restaurant; however, there were still a few chairs and a few places to stand and listen and watch. There was no stage, no separation between the performers and the audience; the setting was dynamic and flexible, very intimate and personal.

            It was very clear that the musicians were not there merely for the music. Certainly, they all expressed a very evident love for the songs they performed. However, the time for socializing between each set of songs was almost equal in length to the amount of time spent actually playing. A song began whenever anyone in the circle felt like playing. They would fiddle out a line, and then those who also knew it would join in. If someone did not know the song, they might sit and listen, or try to catch the go of it and play along as best they could. The music was simple and the form easy to follow. A set usually consisted of three or four songs in a row, and each change was directed by whichever player had initiated the first song. No one held any sheet music in front of them, and according to the players, eye contact and other forms of silent communication is an integral and necessary aspect of these sessions.

The entire group was incredibly welcoming. This was evident in their willingness to humor our questions and talk to us about themselves and their music. This was also evident in their music and style of performance. I spent some time speaking with the bodhran player from Indianapolis. He admitted to not being a ‘regular,’ but told me about his own Irish band and experience with the instruments. Besides the bodhran, he also played the Irish flute, and for some songs, he would pick his flute up to play along with Grey and Zach. Although he was not familiar with all the same tunes as the others, there was absolutely no sense of animosity towards him for his efforts to learn the song, despite the occasional wrong note or misstep of the music. The group’s values clearly lay more towards the participatory side of the spectrum, and they were happy to have an additional member to that evening’s ensemble, no matter the skill level.

The music played by these musicians fosters participation, engagement, and personal connection with others. It was easy to observe that their interactions with other people included those same characteristics; following this, it makes sense to hypothesize that these characteristics are also present in these people’s daily lives and held within their core value system. There is no question in my mind that the values of the music played that evening are in coherence with the values held by these people in their day-to-day lives. There is an overwhelming spirit of cooperation and appreciation of others that seems fully authentic.

The music, although enjoyable, was obviously not the main purpose of the event. It was, however, the means for the creation and maintenance of this social cohort. Although everyone participating in the music Tuesday evening was drawn to the Runcible Spoon because of a shared love of Irish music, they were also drawn together because of a shared love of community and participation. Music was the excuse to gather and spend an evening with friends.