Photo credit: Feargal Ward

Photo credit: Feargal Ward

for more info:


Iarla Ó Lionáird grew up and learned his craft in the musical heartland of Cúil Aodha in the West Cork Gaeltacht of Ireland.

From his iconic early recording of the vision song “Aisling Gheal” while still a child, and through many subsequent recordings, Ó Lionáird established himself both as a masterful exponent of Sean Nós Song and as a pioneer in its renewal and development. Besides his multiple collaborations with composer Donnacha Dennehy and the Crash Ensemble, the ensemble Alarm Will Sound, the Gloaming and Masters of Tradition, Iarla has commissioned an elite group of composers to develop arrangements for music from the classical Sean Nós canon for a performance with orchestra. Available to tour in the 2015-2016 season. 


Mr. Ó Lionáird’s haunting, plaintive voice soared above chugging Minimalist patterns in the alluring score, woven together with high timbres, microtonal harmonies and complex polyrhythms. It culminated in a raucous, emotional and rhythmically propulsive climax, with Mr. Ó Lionaird declaring, ‘I would be near death.’
— New York Times
His voice will astound you. It soars - and it’s as profound, simple and beautiful as wild horses... Count yourself lucky to hear an artist like this once in your lifetime.
— Time Out New York

From Real World Records: 

Iarla Ó Lionáird was born into a world of song in Cúil Aodha, a small, Irish-speaking enclave in west Cork. His mother and grandmother were all known singers in the sean nós, unaccompanied style. His grand aunt Elizabeth Cronin was recorded in the 1940s by Alan Lomax, the American archivist of folk and blues. He was one of twelve children of the local schoolmaster, and his brothers and sisters sang too. The patriot Padraig Pearse called Cúil Aodha "the capital of Gaeldom - where every rock conceals a poet's grave." Nearly everyone there sings songs that connect Cúil Aodha to the rich grandeur of that ancient world. Singing is the dominant form of expression, in the way that fiddle music is in County Clare.

"I grew up in a hive of song," he says." There were singers everywhere. The singing was marked in a certain way by the house you grew up in. You could close your eyes and know a person's family by his way of singing. There was an intactness to the societal function of song. When they died you sang for them, when they were born you sang for them and when they married you sang for them. Singing marked the passages of life. You could have been in Africa. There was the saying, 'We sang laments, and we made those we sang about great in the singing.' This in itself took away my fear of death. It was normal to sing of great men who had passed away. It was normal to think of the greatness of people. Even in death there was something exalted."

If any one person could be said to be responsible for the survival of native Irish music and its being known in the world, it was Seán Ó Riada, a man of great passion, industry and musical sophistication who gathered the music from wherever he could find it, recorded it and on occasion orchestrated it. He composed the great orchestral psalm to the nation 'Mise Eire' and founded The Chieftains. Ó Riada came with his family to live in Cúil Aodha and was often in the Ó Lionáird home. He started a choir there, which Iarla entered in childhood and remained in into his early twenties. He first performed publicly when he was five and was recorded at seven.

"I was a serious child, I think. My brothers and sisters sang, but I knew I was somewhat different. I was marked out in some way. My parents made it all right for me to be this way. They nurtured it. Singing may be a gift, but it's also a craft. It's difficult. It needs ritualistic endeavour, dedication over a long period of time. That's ideal for a child who needs something like that. It's a challenge to make them more expressive, to get out of themselves. I began to sing these songs which were way beyond me in experience. Vision songs. Love songs, made bigger by the fact that they weren't only about the love of a man or woman, but also about love of country. I sang 'Aisling Gheal', which describes a woman in all her naked glory. It was the wrong song for someone so small and that's why it's so good. I was recorded at seven singing a song of a woman giving advice to young girls. The believability was high, but I was very small at the same time. I was recorded another time singing into the mouth of a grand piano. Seán Ó Riada died when I was very young, but the choir was taken over by his son Peadar and I stayed on with him. He came out of the same world I had, hearing the same sounds - wind, rain, cows, birds, songs. He came to do some of the things I was to do with my own music, sampling ambient sounds, tunes, voices. Those things were in you. That was what made up your life."

Iarla went to Dublin to study literature, then qualified and worked as a teacher. He brought his music with him. Some in Dublin held him in awe, for others he was a curiosity. He had offers to record, but there was something discordant between his sense of the music and the expectation it generated in others. He turned down the offers. "They wanted to treat it as folk music," he said. "But sean nós is darker, more passionate and ancient than that. It has never been about strutting your stuff. You stand there and hold it. It's all about empathy."

He stopped singing then, thinking that perhaps the true sense of this music didn't exist outside his own parish. Then the renowned accordion player Tony McMahon invited him to sing at a concert in Armagh. He went, and felt again the spirit of the music igniting within him. He began again to sing. He heard Peter Gabriel's 'Passion' and wrote a six-page letter to his record label Real World, enclosing a tape and asking for a chance to record. They invited him to their studio.

While there he met Simon Emmerson, who was putting together a fusion dance band which would be called the Afro Celt Sound System. Iarla joined them. They went on to play at festivals all over the world and record five albums, which sold in the hundreds of thousands.

Iarla's solo career was inevitable and began with the acclaimed and powerful 'Seven Steps To Mercy' in 1997. Produced by Michael Brook, the album saw Ó Lionáird create a new and unique work in which his voice soars with power and tenderness. A brave and ambitious solo debut it remains a landmark album in Irish music. Iarla followed this with a moving soundtrack to Nichola Bruce's film 'I Could Read The Sky' (2000), from the book by Timothy O'Grady and Steve Pyke and featuring Martin Hayes and Sinead O'Connor. The next step from this restless innovator was a challenging and electronically influenced solo album, 'Invisible Fields' (2005). At once a love song to the Irish language and engagement with new sonic textures, the widespread acclaim for the album confirmed Ó Lionáird as one of contemporary music's most ambitious singers and recording artists.

Ó Lionáird has always been a collaborator and an artist seeking new fields of engagement. From his collaboration with Peter Gabriel on 'Ovo', this has taken an increasingly classical form. His song-cycle with Gavin Byrars, 'Anail De' (The Breath Of God) reflects a deep artist collaboration and friendship with the composer. He has also worked with composers Ian Wilson and Paul Hillier. Similarly he has worked extensively with acclaimed Irish composer Donnacha Dennehy and his group The Crash Ensemble with a record release of their piece, 'Gra & Bas' and with whom he performed in Zankel Hall (Carnegie Hall) in 2013.  He also tours with Masters of Tradition, an ensemble directed by fiddler, Martin Hayes as well as The Gloaming, which he co-founded with Martin Hayes, featuring New Yorker, Thomas Bartlett on piano, Dennis Cahill on guitar and Caoimhin O Raghallaigh on hardanger fiddle.