Several years ago, Tom Crotty and some buddies came up with an interesting concept that they embodied in a t-shirt design. The design was beautiful in its simplicity -- a harp superimposed upon some abstract-looking mountains. The seal around this picture reads: "Celtic Republic of Appalachia." It wasn't until a year and a half or so later that several regulars at the Patrick Sullivan's Seisiún came up with the notion of a web site. The CRA began as, and to some degree continues to be, a hobby of sorts for us, but at another level, it means more.
Some of you who have browsed this website might be wondering, "What exactly is this 'Celtic Republic of Appalachia' that somehow escaped the attention of Rand McNally?" The introductory paragraph that appears on the start page offers a surface summary about what we're about. It's just a teaser that hints at the deeper richness and diversity of those who contribute to the meaning of the CRA, including you, the reader.
Take the reference to the CRA as a "state of mind" -- an appropriate description. Ever since we put this thing up on the web, I have dreaded the prospect of receiving unsolicited e-mails from folks who might have thought we were advocating some sort of separatist state. It finally happened a couple of weeks ago. Some misguided fellow commended us for our efforts and invited us to consider a "real" Celtic/Nordic/Teutonic nation. This commentary is a direct result of that message. So, let's set the record straight: When we say that the CRA is a state of mind, we are explicitly stating that we are not advocating any sort of separatist state.
The CRA is about the preservation and promotion of Celtic heritage in Appalachia, and we do not exclude non-Celts from this effort. Many of us are troubled by the loss of the Celtic tradition -- the stories, the songs, the wisdom that has been subsumed under the unchecked onslaught of commercialization and absorption into modern American culture. When I speak of an "onslaught of commercialization" as a threat to the Celtic traditions, this is just a small symptom of a larger uprootedness and shallowness that has infected the American soul. Anyone who has watched Jay Leno's pathetic interviews with young people without the most basic elements of cultural literacy knows what I'm talking about. The Celtic tradition is one of many wonderful patches in the American quilt -- traditions that course through what Whitman referred to as the American "oversoul." Somewhere in the trance of mass consumerism we're vaguely aware of its presence. Corporate marketers know this. You sense it when you hear the playing of Uilleann pipes in the background of a shot of an SUV on a misty mountaintop (never mind that the commercial is supposed to be set in Scotland!); you hear it in the Bulgarian women's choir intermingled with the swoosh of Xena's brandished sword, or in African chants lulling you into buying LifeSavers.
On the other hand, the commercialization of culture may actually have an upside for us vanishing Celts. Recently, a friend of Tom's told him that on a visit to Asheville, North Carolina, Fiona Ritchie, the acclaimed host of the internationally broadcast "Thistle and Shamrock" radio show, alluded to "The Celtic Republic of Appalachia" at a recent concert function. (Earlier in the year, members of the Republic had presented Fiona with a CRA t-shirt.) We don't know if she is aware of our website, but the CRA name is out there, sending ripples through the web and beyond.
So, how do you get to the Celtic Republic? Some may follow the path of their soul. Others may follow their bloodline. Some browsers may be directed to their local pub to take in a seisiun and find the CRA in the 'craic', that transcendence that comes from good traditional tunes strung together with all the passion and none of the ego.
The latter has been the most reliable route to the CRA for me. The madness, pain, and restlessness of a certain reels and jigs set has been the more reliable route, compared with some sort of blood connection which most of us can claim, to some degree. It is the restlessness and rage of Everyman (or Everyperson!) against the mindless presentism of an American culture numbed by a mass consumer mentality and a frenzy of youth worship that scorns any depth of passion. Having visited seisiuns all over the region, I am not all surprised to find others in my generation- 20 to 30-something who have been bitten by the "ceol bug". We who have been raised on TV, preyed upon by product pushers, are crying out for something authentic, something enduring. Traditional Irish dance music played in a dimly lit corner of the bar by folks who have lost themselves in the collective beauty of the "craic"- that's as close as it gets for some of us. That pretty much captures the CRA state of mind for me. I've felt similar ecstasy in reading the mystical poetry of San Juan de la Cruz- this without any blood connections to the Iberian peninsula.
Whether we are heritage seekers or fans of the music, I think it's important to embrace the full diversity of states of mind that are represented in the CRA. I have already mentioned the heritage seekers in some depth, so let's turn to the music lovers, a group I'm more qualified to comment on as a lover and player of Irish traditional music. I've witnessed many extremes of views on the musical tradition. From neo-traditionalists around the region who scorn anything "old-timey" to the new-age types that like to mix it up into a "Celtique" soup of mysticism, synthesizer and borrowings from other traditions. I love them both. No one has sorted out the two positions better than Charlie Ball, a scholar of the British Isles musical tradition who understands that the form must be preserved, but not at the cost of breathing into it the new life innovation can afford.
Some may bristle at the term "old timey" which comes up a lot in the seisiun culture of Appalachia. Sir Charles said it best when he explained to me that, while 'Old Time' might need a Band-aid to ensure its longevity, Irish music needs a transfusion. I find it unfortunate that some of us feel compelled to resort back to Old Time Appalachian tunes to accommodate a seisiun with limited fluency in the Celtic traditions. I applaud area musicians for keeping Mountain music alive, but such tunes borrow heavily from the Irish and Scottish traditions; ignoring that would be like an English major not bothering to master the Middle English of the Canterbury Tales. The cardinal sin of modern American culture is window dressing. As the commercial packaging of "Celtic-ness" continues, we all have a duty to educate others and ourselves to the true tradition in all its richness and depth. We need to do this in a spirit of compassion lest we reduce ourselves to the level of those crusty curmudgeons who rant and rave on the IRTRAD listserv from time to time. The tension between Old Time and Celtic (and even within Celtic), between more traditional and more progressed forms of the Celtic musical traditions is one of the lively discussions within the CRA state of mind. Let's hope it continues!
So, in the new millennium what will the Celtic Republic of Appalachia be? Many things, to be sure. There's a growing number of voices articulating the CRA state of mind. I encourage you, the browser to add your voice either in response to this article or with an article of your own. Speak your mind, rant and rave (as I surely have!), share your expertise. If your heart and soul is behind it, I have no doubt we'll be the better for it. I also challenge you to document the Celtic traditions in your area. Do you know anyone with an old folk remedy, story, ballad, or other vestige of the heritage? If so, drop everything you're dong, document it, and send it in.
If not you, then who else...?