A general essay on Irish identity in the popular arts:
When Irish feet fall flat Uncredited from The Times
“As anyone who has ever been in New York on St Patrick’s Day will agree, there’s something Irish about everyone.” It’s easy to derive some amusement from Clive Barnes’s programme notes for the tenth anniversary production of Riverdance. So easy, in fact, that I’m a little disappointed when, after the show, I catch myself doing just that. In mitigation, the previous two hours have been spent watching random fragments of Celtic imagery flash up on an ever-shifting backdrop; a druidy henge thing here; some Oirish landscapes broken up by a twinkling stream there.
I’ve seen a trio of tippy-tapping young fellas engage in camp dance-offs with Brooklyn street kids — all the better to work in the subtext that the moonwalk would be but a bashful shuffle without its Irish ancestral origins.
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