He still sings to Irish ears

DOVER, N.H. -- Fifty years after Tommy Makem and the Clancy Brothers introduced a raucous, revolutionary brand of Irish folk music to the global stage, Makem's fingers still begin moving the instant he picks up a banjo.

A centuries-old Irish tune, plucked slowly and starkly, fills a living room where a cast-iron kettle from his boyhood home in Northern Ireland is preserved by the fireplace.

"Now," he says, "I can see ever more clearly that it's necessary to keep pushing."

Makem, 74, is referring to what he believes is a steady erosion of Ireland's musical heritage. The statement also could apply to a man who, in the face of late-stage lung cancer, refuses to curb his lifelong passion for entertaining.

Makem says he intends to perform "as long as I have a voice to sing."

And that voice, synonymous with Irish folk music for millions of listeners, will cover thousands of miles in the next few months. From a concert on Saturday in Rochester, N.H., to a tour of Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Prince Edward Island, to a cruise to the Panama Canal, Makem will spin a unique web of myth, romance, rebellion, and humor that has ensnared audiences for decades.

"When I do a concert, I'm hoping that not only will people have a good time, but that they'll find something that will stretch their minds a little," Makem said.

Makem has been stretching minds and the boundaries of traditional Irish music since he and the three Clancy brothers bonded in New York City in the late 1950s.

They all were struggling actors then -- Makem from County Armagh in Northern Ireland, and Paddy, Tom, and Liam Clancy from Carrick-on-Suir in County Tipperary, to the south.

From their mouths, what once were mournful ballads became rousing, rafter-raising choruses. The transition caught fire in an era when folk singers like the Highwaymen and the Kingston Trio found steady, profitable work. And not only did their music find a home on the record players of Irish-Americans, but the tunes reinvigorated an interest in traditional music in Ireland.

The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem appeared on "The Ed Sullivan Show," the stage of Carnegie Hall, and "The Tonight Show." And their trademark Aran sweaters became indelibly linked with the popular American vision of an emerald-green Ireland filled with poets and pubs.

Makem left the Clancy Brothers in 1969, performed in a duo with Liam Clancy from 1975 to 1988, and has been singing solo since then.

For a 23-year-old immigrant who arrived at Logan Airport in 1955 carrying only a makeshift suitcase, a pair of bagpipes, and an X-ray of his lungs, his life's path continues to astonish someone who worked in a Dover foundry before seeking fame as an actor in New York.

"None of us had any intentions of being singers. We had serious work to do in the theater," Makem said with a self-effacing smile. "I was lucky to be alive at a phenomenal time."

Now, he continues to be engulfed by singing, composing songs, and keeping track of his four children: three sons who perform regularly as the Makem Brothers, and a daughter who is an amateur actress.

Makem's wife, Mary, died five years ago.

The lung cancer that was diagnosed in May is not something that consumes or depresses him, Makem said, even though his doctors have said that surgery is not an option.

"I don't want to convince myself that I have cancer, but this is what the doctor tells me," Makem said.

Despite the cancer's advances, the singer said he feels no pain or illness. "I'm still up and positive, and I hope to stay that way," said Makem, who once was a heavy smoker. "When I was diagnosed first, I said, 'God helps those who help themselves.' Cancer is not a death sentence anymore."

At a service by a "healing priest" in Massachusetts, Makem said, he had a "peculiar experience." A voice only he could hear, Makem said, told him he had been cured.

"I said to myself, 'Well, I'm all for that,' " Makem recalled.

Despite an uncertain future, Makem carries on, spreading the gospel of song at a brisk, peripatetic pace. Makem has plenty of work, but he is concerned by what he sees as cultural amnesia among Ireland's young.

"We're so obsessed with modernity, we don't realize what we're losing," Makem said. "They're making gazillions of dollars in Ireland, but they're losing their culture."

In particular, he said, the "old song tradition" in Ireland, the art of telling stories through music, is vanishing from the homes and pubs where the art form had been nurtured for centuries.

Makem, however, said he is heartened by what he believes to be the innate strength of Irish traditional music.

Although its popularity might wane, Makem said, the music will survive.

When asked to reflect on his career, Makem chose a singular moment from his first hour in the United States.

Nervous and alone, he was flabbergasted, Makem said, when a customs agent welcomed him to the country by saying: "Have a great life."

Savoring the scene in his mind's eye, Makem paused, smiled, and added a predictably upbeat coda.

"I took him at his word," he said.