The curried chips were settling under a coating of warm beer deep inside me, as the Saw Doctors were announced with the news that Noel at the "merchandising stall" had a full range of their CD's, T-shirts and hats. Horslips and Moving Hearts were probably the first to bring the voice of traditional music to rock; the Saw Doctors have brought it to West Coast stadium rock, keeping the Irish balladeer's important function as a chronicler of the local.
"I'll play this for all the familiar faces - thanks for coming again", came the voice for the stage. They were rewarded with tales of Clare Island and even a Tuam DJ called Tommy Kavanagh - did I really hear "Give us that mashed potato, give us that boogaloo"? But although N.17 is a good song, it was when Davy Carton sang Teenage Kicks with the four instrumentalists from the Undertones that my heart really soared.
Galway people can be tempted indoors sometimes, however. Highlights such as Derevo's Once and Barrie Cooke's exhibition have already been covered on these pages. Another had to be traditional singer, Maighread Ni Dhomhnaill's, lunch-time concert with Treasa Ni Mhiollain and the young, midriff-exposing Fiona Kelleher from Macroom - those old songs, smoothed by time like stones on the tide, have the same wisdom as has the ancient art of the Russian clowns, and come close to expressing the infinite sadness, the infinite joy and the absolute absurdity of being human.
Sadly, Cornerstone's production of Chekhov's The Seagull fell from these heights: directed by Mikhail Dmitrievich Mokeev with the pace of high farce, it ended up seeming like, as young Nina says: "A lot of shouting and sawing at the air." Ron Blair's The Christian Brothers, performed by Laurence Coy and directed by Maeliosa Stafford, sadly did nothing more than repeat the old recitation of the repression and brutality of the Brothers, though with the Australian twist of machismo. It was a shame, too, that Little John Nee's show, Dead On (a fringe event), which told a tale of fascism and violence taking over from love in rural Donegal in the future, had not been beaten into more dramatic shape by its director. He is a superb actor and sketched both a man and his beautiful female lover at once on the blank stage. The show sagged self-indulgently, however, and made me wonder whether the small size of Galway's arts community isn't sometimes a handicap, in that it can mean a lack of critical distance.
At other times, it's undoubtedly an advantage; it was the hothouse in which the movement of the arts festival began. Galway's very size makes it an ideal festival venue, and Fergal Mc Grath explains that it was their plan that the Film Fleadh and Babaro Children's Festival should move into their own spaces, making, with the Cuirt Festival of Literature, a calendar of some of the best arts festivals there are.
There's more that's propitious about Galway than its size. It still exists as another reality to that of Dublin, a western space with the crusties following the imaginative voyage of J.M. Synge. "They've done their utmost to destroy the place, but it's still special - it's the sea, the nearness of Connemara . . . it's still a medieval town, and there's something resonating you don't get anywhere else," says Trish Forde.
Forde feels that the younger people who have come to work with the festival "love it as much as we do", though she worries, as does Tom Conroy, that nowadays UCG doesn't give students the space to dream their own dreams. Conroy explains that unemployment was a huge player in the formation of the festival movement: "A new Macnas couldn't be born now, because there are jobs, which in one way is a good thing. But I worry that the future generations will be narrower."
The old generation must move on, however - many have children now, explains Forde, and then there's the need to work as artists independently. Says Ted Turton: "I never trained as an arts administrator. Doing this job has been a complete learning experience in my late 40s. If I kept doing a full-time arts administrator's job, I'd shrivel up as an artist."
The big fear among the founding generation, however, as they look into the cradle of the new festival, is that the baby director will substitute professionalism for the magic of the movement: "If it's very efficient and loses the spirit, that's the fear," says Conroy. "It's absolutely not a job. We have an investment in this place and we'll always be attached to it. We'll always be terrified the new people will make a mistake."
The Festival continues until Sunday. Shows opening include Hello Mr Joe from Compagnie Jo Bithume (Thursday) and Shockheaded Peter - A Junk Opera (Thursday). For information tel: Locall 1890-566577.
