Altan at the Dakota (March 7, 2026)

St. Patrick’s Day came ten days early as the Dakota Jazz Club was momentarily turned into an Irish Pub with the return of Altan and their traditional Irish folk music.

It was a sold-out show at capacity by the time I arrived.  I took a seat at the bar and sat next to two ladies.  One was a big fan and told me she had been following the Altan for over thirty years, catching their annual visits first at the Cedar Cultural Center and now the Dakota.  She was a little late getting tickets this year, and that is why she was sitting next to me, which may have been just fine, considering she slid off her bar stool and started dancing the minute the music started.  

Altan is celebrating the 40th Anniversary when flautist Frankie Kennedy and fiddler Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh not only got married when Mairéad turned 21, but they also formed a musical group along with Ciaran Curran on bouzouki and Mark Kelly on guitar.  Frankie passed away in 1994 after a battle with cancer, and the original members were joined on stage with Martin Tourish on accordion and Clare Friel on fiddle.

Maybe because I’m half Irish, but I find it a rare treat to be treated to two hours of authentic Irish music.  The music is so uplifting I find most people are unable to not tap a toe or slap a knee, let alone get up off a bar stool.  Not only was my neighbor up and down throughout the evening.  The staff at the hostess desk were also working on their jigs.  

Altan is supporting their 14th studio album, Donegal, a county where Mairéad and Frankie first met and where the county’s regional music is reflected in the album.  Mairéad and the crew played a couple songs from it like “Gabhaim Molta Bride” and “The Yellow Tinker.”  But most of the set was dedicated to traditional and regional songs that were both in English and Gaelic.  Some personal favorites were“An Ghealóg,” a beautiful song where Mairéad and Clare took turns singing in their native tongue, and the rousing “The Letterkenny Blacksmith,” an instrumental guaranteed to prevent anyone from nodding off no matter how many Guinness beers were consumed.  

But the best was saved for the end when all the musicians were each given an opportunity to play a freeform solo.  The audience was particularly drawn to Claire’s violin.  Her solo was mesmerizing as she increased her speed and danced her fingers across the neck of her violin at a rate I found difficult to follow.  I felt sorry for Martin having to follow with his accordion.  But he took a different tack and shifted to a soulful lament.  But not for long, for he built momentum with his Gaelic squeezebox until the group joined in and finished off the song with a spirited finale.  

’Tis a shame that we will have to wait a full year for their return.  

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