`An awful lot of musicians are jumping on this Celtic bandwagon, and they feel that as long as they have a Celtic aura about their music then it's okay. I don't deal in auras, I deal in the reality of Celtic music." Ishbel MacAskill, the acclaimed Inverness-based, Gaelic singer is at pains to prove Glasgow's Celtic Connections festival is not just a token nod to the intensely-felt tradition she belongs to. She has performed at the festival for the past four years, and realises its role in linking culture and community is vital. Despite the occasional dissenting voice, Ishbel is not alone.

Now in its sixth year, Celtic Connections is a cultural festival with a difference. Establishing links (however tenuous in some cases) between all the Celtic countries, the festival was born out of financial good sense rather than any heartfelt cultural longing. Although it now receives funding from Glasgow City Council and the Scottish Arts Council, it began in January 1994 as a means of bolstering the Royal Concert Hall's till receipts through the cold, winter months.

With an average of 20 "dark" nights in January and February, the RCH, which was established in 1990, realised something would have to be done to offset potential losses. Research showed the venue's events were not appealing to those in the 25-40 age bracket. The RCH's organisers had also seen in those first few years that concerts by the likes of Mary Black, Capercaillie and Runrig were selling out the main, 3,500-seater auditorium. Connecting the growing awareness of Celtic music with the RCH bank balance would prove fortuitous.

They quickly discovered, however, that no promoters or agents were particularly active during the first two months of the year, so they chose to do all the work themselves.

"We decided to put on a festival of linked or themed events that would cover a different area from that we were doing here already," says RCH arts co-ordinator, Colin Hynd, over the decidedly arhythmic sound of a bodhran workshop taking place nearby. "We were aware of a Celtic breakthrough, at least in musical terms, and that this might be the best way to go. With hindsight, it was a perfect time for us to be doing it, as BBC Radio Scotland was rescheduling its programming to give Celtic culture and traditional music slightly higher profiles. The whole debate on Scottish independence was starting to boil under all of this as well. Our decision happened at the right time, in the right place."

The inaugural year of Celtic Connections was a risky undertaking. The RCH had a three-year plan, but if it had been a disaster, Hynd says, they would probably not have undertaken such an event again. But perseverance paid off. The RCH started contacting as many artists as possible, although agents, Hynd notes, were very sceptical at first. "They said Celtic Connections would never work. They also said the venue wouldn't work, that it was too plush."

BBC Radio Scotland proved a healthy ally, helping in the marketing of the event and trailing it from early October 1993 until the opening in mid-January 1994. This almost joint-initiative was crucial to the success of the festival.

While the strands came together slowly, the media coverage was fairly swift. "There was nothing else on," Hynd says. "The reasons why people thought we would fail were probably the reasons why we succeeded: there was no competition. Print, radio and television covered the event extensively. Result? Year one was a roaring success, and we've never looked back." Despite, or perhaps because of, its success, Celtic Connections has been accused of drawing from an overly diverse range of what some critics say are spurious cultural links. Unruffled by the barbs, but not indifferent or arrogant, Hynd says simply that Celtic Connections gives him and his team a broad canvas to work on. The programme, he says, starts from a very traditional heart. From here, musical arteries reach out into other, less defined areas.

"This festival currently runs for 19 days - almost four venues a night in the space of nearly three weeks," Hynd says. "With the best will in the world, how many times can one person afford to attend concerts during a 19-day period? Financially, we have to ensure we cover all bases and bring in as many different audiences as we can. That's the rationale behind the many different musics on the programme, from the very traditional and Gaelic to the pop-ier, rock-ier end of the spectrum. We're desperately trying to make sure that there's something in this festival for everyone."

With acts as wide-ranging as Ivor Cutler and Gillian Welch, John Cale and Cherish The Ladies, the programme is certainly diverse, but pleasing as many people as possible comes at a price. Such a philosophy automatically dilutes the core aesthetic of Celtic Connections, a notion Hynd understands but doesn't necessarily agree with.

"We took a lot of flak for bringing in James Taylor last year: it wasn't justified. What we're trying to do is to profile great music. From the very beginning we also tried to make a point of showcasing singer/songwriters as part of the Celtic tradition. James Taylor justified himself through his Scottish lineage. Celtic Connections is a festival he should have appeared in. Do you buy into him or not? Make up your mind, but don't stand in the corner and carp."

The dilution of the core concept of Celtic (a concept more discussed than defined, Hynd argues) is an ongoing problem in relation to the festival. While a singer such as Ishbel MacAskill receives respect, crossover Scottish bands such as Tartan Amoebas fearlessly fly in the face of tradition. In The Fruitmarket, one of Glasgow's many excellent venues catering for mid-range acts, the initial appeal of these piping funksters degenerated into a tiresome instrumental free-forall. If anything, the band acted as a salutary example of the disputed Celtic Connections ethic of trying too hard.

"We need to get a grip on ourselves in relation to the real meaning of the word Celtic, and not to run away on tangents," MacAskill warns. "I find all this bandwagon-jumping quite insulting to my culture. Compromise is a personal thing. There is no need for me to compromise my cultural principles in order to get the message across.

"There are young people growing up in the Celtic tradition, and they must be allowed to give expression to the way they're hearing the music. I don't have a big problem with that once it maintains the essence of the music. But some of the stuff I hear - my toenails have a greater commitment to Gaelic culture."

For the moment, Celtic Connections is undoubtedly the most wide-ranging celebration of Celtic music culture in Europe. With a recent National Lottery funding award for education and community work, the event looks as if it will travel comfortably beyond the year 2000 - provided its already stretched remit doesn't snap. The title of the festival is dangerously close to becoming a glaring irony. That said, there is nothing remotely as focused as Celtic Connections in Ireland.

"A lot of musicians have said it would never work in Ireland," Colin Hynd remarks. "I can't understand why. I think they reckon the Irish people wouldn't pay for it when they can get it free in the pubs. We were told Scottish people wouldn't pay for it, but we've proved them wrong. Put on good music and people will come for it."

Celtic Connections continues until January 31st. Telephone bookings from: 0044-141-287-5511.