Like the space between the stars, it’s the space between notes, the atmospheric blackness that illuminates the brilliance of Martin Hayes’ playing.  The night sky as a backdrop for the sparkling music of the heavens.  At once brooding and joyful, raw yet soulful, there’s such depth in his music that it has the power to reach across traditional boundaries of classification and touch the heartstrings of all who listen.

Steeped as he was in the musical traditions of East County Clare, Hayes has thoroughbred bloodlines in the genre.  His father, P.J. Hayes, was the leader of the famed Tulla Ceili Band, and himself an All-Ireland violin champion, as was his uncle, Paddy Canny.  Hayes himself would win that same title six times.  His childhood home was something of a meeting place for his extended musical family.  His respect for the older players, and his close tutelage at his father’s knee gave him the foundation for his own musical journey of discovery.  Although, one might argue, he hasn’t so much left the slow and lyrical East Clare style as he’s evolved it.

“There’s much debate today on the issues of continuity and change and tradition versus innovation.  I think this is a mistake, as traditional Irish music has always experienced change and been enriched by innovation, while at the same time maintaining continuity” he says, “The issue that is of the utmost importance is that innovation, change, tradition and continuity all be tempered by integrity, humility, and understanding.”

In concert, Hayes dresses comfortably, not for show.  His signature mop of curls seems thoughtfully unkempt   His speech and manner are gentle, demure, self-effacing.  He disarms with humble charm.  Beside him, longtime musical partner, Dennis Cahill appears studious, serious, quiet.  But they aren’t on stage for the banter or the jokes, they’re here for what Hayes describes as his “responsibility to communicate through music.”  He reflects “I’m not sure it’s a commonly held view, but I see it as somewhat of a moral obligation to tell the emotional stories inside the tunes, to use my instrument as a medium for the spirit, the muse within the music.  He speaks of clearing the mind of doubts, fears and egotism, to become available to the muse, “There is a clarity and openness required on a personal level to allow the music to flow through you.”  In this quest, Hayes and his audiences are fellow seekers of the grail.

While playing, there’s a rapt attention from the audience that yields to a dreamy state of listening bliss.  Looking around at a recent concert at Troy City Music Hall (a truly historic and acoustic treasure), I see many half-smiles and thousand-yard stares.  I find myself closing my eyes for long stretches to absorb the spirit without any visual distractions.  It feels like meditation set to music.

 Hayes’ 1997 album, The Lonesome Touch, with Dennis Cahill is perhaps his defining album, and the one that has propelled him into a wider world than strictly Celtic.  Within the space of 12 tracks, he turns traditional Celtic fiddling on its ear – and in the process opens the ears of many new converts.  The phrase “Lonesome Touch” is used to describe the sadness, the pathos inherent in the music of Clare.  What one hears is the emptiness and sparseness in the arrangements, spaces that are somehow more full of emotion.  “It’s the hardest thing, you know, playing slowly” he says.  Cahill’s accompaniment borders on genius for his intuitive sensibilities, rounding out Hayes’ playing with simple harmonic and rhythmic suggestions that both echo and add texture to the melody.  Together, they have achieved one of the great musical partnerships in recent memory, crafting tunes organically, as easily as “a three-way conversation between the two of us and the music.”

Hayes describes his style of playing as “true to the spirit” of the genre, while pushing the boundaries of it.  He’s more interested in the “pure, raw feeling and the expression thereof.”  In every way, Hayes in looking to transcend to confines of tradition while honoring it.  “In my book, you get no accolades for pyrotechnics.  It’s your ability as a storyteller.”

This past year, Hayes and Cahill were featured in the “Highland, Heath and Holler” tour with Alasdair Fraser, Natalie Haas, and Bruce Molsky.  Would he entertain putting a group together in the future?  “Well, I’m not opposed to it, but right now, I’m just trying to make the purest music that I can.  In Dennis, I have a true musical soul mate and we have a rare opportunity to speak genuinely, from the heart.”