The haunting wail of keening, an ancient Irish vocal tradition once nearly silenced, is finding new life. Singer Rose Connolly is reshaping the practice, blending it with synthesisers, distortion, and drone sounds, creating an auditory bridge between past and present.
The Ancient Art of Keening
For centuries, keening was an integral part of Irish mourning rituals. Women, known as keeners, would sing over the dead, their voices carrying raw grief in unstructured melodies. But by the early 20th century, the Catholic Church had largely suppressed the tradition, considering it too pagan, too unruly.
Now, Connolly is not just reviving keening—she’s reinventing it. Her music retains the free-flowing nature of sean-nós singing but introduces contemporary elements that challenge conventional boundaries.
Stitching the Past into the Present
Textile artist Jude Lally finds inspiration in this fusion of old and new. As she stitches dolls, she listens to Connolly’s reinterpretations, feeling the threads of history weaving into her work.
“Sewing keeps me grounded,” Lally says. “It’s a way to hold onto something as the world unravels. And in keening, I hear that same thread—grief and resilience intertwined.”
Keening, like sewing, is about connection. It links the living to the dead, the past to the future. And through this rebirth, it speaks to a larger movement of cultural reclamation.
De-Colonising Language and Sound
Connolly sees her work as part of a broader effort to reclaim Irish identity. “Learning Irish is part of the Zeitgeist,” she explains. “Breaking the shackles of colonialism is essential to fully thrive as a human and an artist.”
The desire to decolonise extends beyond language. It’s in the soundscape she builds, in the way she reclaims suppressed traditions, giving them modern resonance.
An Invitation to the Otherworld
Keening has always been a liminal practice, existing between life and death, the natural and supernatural. It was believed to guide the soul to the afterlife. Today, its revival carries echoes of that belief—a call to remember, to acknowledge what has been buried but not lost.
On a recent walk, Lally visited an old well, leaving a silver cup as an offering. “It felt like an entrance to the otherworld,” she reflects. Keening, in its contemporary form, offers a similar portal—an auditory path to forgotten realms.
Death as Transformation
Connolly’s music does not dwell in sorrow. Instead, it embraces the cyclical nature of life and death. “The earth consumes not to obliterate but to repurpose and grow again,” she notes.
This philosophy underscores her sonic approach. The blend of keening with electronic elements mirrors nature’s process—breaking down and rebuilding, shifting form but never truly disappearing.
For those who listen, keening offers more than mourning. It is remembrance, renewal, and resistance wrapped in song. And through artists like Connolly, it breathes once more.
