I was just remembering a very silly moment in my life…
A few friends and I were travelling on a train, a five-hour + ride home from a very entertaining and exhausting weekend. We started to talk about legs, somehow… I’m sure some of us remember how we got onto the topic in the first place, but that is no matter here.
So we’re talking about legs, and one starts with “Put your money where your legs are…” then the other chimes in with “Don’t count your legs before they’ve hatched…” It just went downhill from there, as you can imagine.
And the final coup de grace was “A hand in the bush is worth two on the leg!” How racy is that! I howled out loud, much to the chagrin of the friend who actually said it… He still prefers that I not remind him of that today…
So I was thinking about this particular line this morning - A hand in the bush is worth two on the leg… And I was thinking about a few Irish tunes I’ve learned in the past few months, and St Ruth’s Bush came to mind.
Does anybody know the origin of the name St Ruth’s Bush? Are there any theories about the title?
Ah, a topiary subject to pass a Wednesday afternoon. “The Boy in The Bush” is another that raises a smirk now and again.
Struth, or Strewth as it later became, was a contraction of the now archaic exclamation “God’s Truth!”, which one might have uttered a century ago on seeing, unexpectedly perhaps, a particularly fine piece of the topiarist’s art.
Main Entry: 1 to·pi·ary
Pronunciation: 'tO-pE-"er-E
Function: adjective
Etymology: Latin topiarius, from topia ornamental gardening, irregular from Greek topos place: of, relating to, or being the practice or art of training, cutting, and trimming trees or shrubs into odd or ornamental shapes; also : characterized by such work
In fact, I think it can be an inspiring thing, to think along those lines. It adds a dimension of sensuousnous to and awareness of the music; and will certainly affect my playing of it.
Imagine playing St Ruth’s Bush when thinking of a nun in a convent, kneeling next to a berry bush, praying to the little bush fairies to take care of this green leafy piece of nature.
Then imagine playing St Ruth’s Bush while thinking of a beautiful Irish woman who plays the concertina like an angel, and when she looks at you, you just melt.
Don’t you feel differently about your own playing?
Then imagine playing “The Hag at the Churn” while thinking of a hag, covered with fast-curdling milk (some left over from yesterday), churning away whilst cackling merrily and giving you a flash of singularly unkempt topiary. Don’t you feel differently about your own playing?
Yes, Gary, that’s part of the story - but you’re missing the point. Is there another way to look at that and turn it into something more sensuous?
Is there a way to spend an afternoon session focusing on the more wonderously titillating side of the music? Isn’t that a fascinating and enticing way to spend an afternoon?
Now, now, kids! There is in fact a good story behind the name, and it’s not quite so risqué…
From the Fiddler’s companion:
According to Philippe Varlet the tune was composed around 1936-1940 by Paddy Kelly (of the Aughrim Slopes band) and was first recorded by the Kincora Ceili Band led by Ms. Kathleen Harrington. The bush (or tree) is where the French commander the Marquis de St. Ruth’s head was found after he was killed by a cannon ball while on his white charger at the Battle of Aughrim in 1691. Aughrim is approximately 30 miles east of Galway city. Micko Russell {1989}, who attributed the tune to Paddy Fahy, said: “Now I don’t know how did the bush get that name, but if you go along the road from Gort to Loughrea there is a lonely place in the limestone lands. Standing by itself is this one bush. It is very remarkable how it has grown alone there. The name of that bush is St. Ruth’s Bush."
Rats, I guess from now on whenever I play that tune I’ll end up thinking of that guy getting his head blown off…I wonder how that will affect the way I play it???
Okay, but now we can go back to talking about sex.
Oh wait, but before we do, if you’re interested in the Battle of Aughrim there’s an excellent summary (including photos of the sites today, though sadly St. Ruth’s Bush is not shown) here:
I can’t help but think someone’s been smoking the shrubbery. Its the only explanation for questions like, “Is there SEX in Irish music?” What? Are you kidding me? Those softly undulating pulses are what make Irish music stand out against the mechanical banging of Scottish music. And how is it that no-one has mentioned An Phis Fliuch yet?
