Sometimes a guitarist comes along who revolutionizes the concept of how the instrument can be used. Such is the case with Tony McManus. For centuries, traditional Celtic music has been the province of fiddlers and bag-pipers, but during the past 10 years, McManus fused Celtic music with acoustic guitar to create brilliant six-string arrangements within an ancient musical tradition. In the following interview, he talks about his influences and why he feels we’re in a golden age for the guitar.
How did you become interested, originally, in traditional Celtic music?
That was the kind of music that was around the house when I was a kid. The mid ’60s was the beginning of the ballad boom. There was a group called the Clancy Brothers who became huge in the states, and when they came back to Ireland they were major celebrities. There were many similar groups who came in their wake ― the Dubliners and a band called the Johnstons, for instance. By the time I started playing, there was another surge of interest in instrumental music. That’s what sparked my interest. At the same time, for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt the guitar was the most beautiful thing in the world.
Did you have a knack for the guitar even from the very beginning?
Yes. I got a guitar when I was 10. I knew a handful of chords ― some kids in school were also playing, and I learned the chords from them ― and I went home and spent hours in the bedroom just playing along with albums, playing jigs and reels. At that age you’re too young to realize that that’s not really the “done” thing. Since then I’ve always tended to do things that are unusual. The guitar may be a melody instrument in bluegrass, and accepted as such, but it hasn’t really found its voice, just yet, in traditional music. That makes it sound as if I was on a quest, or a mission, but of course when you’re 10 years old you’re not in a position to formulate such a strategy.
So you were just doing what felt most natural to you?
Exactly. This was the instrument I loved, and this was the music I loved. At the same time, I had been listening to some rock and roll, and trying to play some stuff like that, but I never managed to get an electric guitar. It was just myself and an acoustic guitar, and a bunch of records of traditional music. I had a brother who was into rock and roll, but I never went very far with that.
Did you have a sense that traditional music would afford you the chance to play guitar in the most eloquent fashion possible?
That’s a good question. People often write that my style is completely original, but I have to disagree. I can trace everything I do back to certain individuals who’ve been doing these things a lot longer than I have. People like Paul Brady, who’s known as a singer-songwriter, but who’s also a great guitar player. There’s another Irish player called Arty McGlynn. His background is originally in jazz, but for the past 30-odd years he’s been playing mostly traditional music. He was Van Morrison’s musical director for a number of years. His background is incredibly varied, but he was flat-picking reels and jigs years ago, long before me. He was a major influence. In terms of finger-style guitar, I’ve been influenced by people like Martin Simpson, the English finger-style player, and a player named Tony Cuffe.
Have you ever pulled things from other genres and applied them to Celtic music?
Where that’s true, it’s stuff from other instruments. My influences, outside of the handful of players I mentioned, were fiddle players and pipers and singers ― people doing just about everything except playing the guitar. A lot of my style is informed by the kind of ornamentation and idiomatic playing that you associate with Irish fiddle players and Scottish bag pipers.
Speaking of influence, you obviously enjoy teaching guitar.
That’s been one of the biggest surprises of my career ― the amount of time, and the amount of satisfaction I get, from teaching. I’m self-taught, and I have no idea how I came by particular techniques, so trying to teach someone else was initially a huge challenge. But the more you teach, the more you get a handle on how best to do it. Occasionally it takes you by surprise, the things people find difficult. Whenever I get frustrated with someone ― or think, why can’t you do this, it’s so simple? ― I try it myself, left-handed. [Laughs.] That reminds me how difficult some things can be.
You’ve said elsewhere that you feel this is a golden age for guitar-making. What makes you feel that way?
It’s an exciting time for the guitar, and an exciting time to be a guitar player. There’s a great deal of interest in all aspects of the instrument ― electric and acoustic, finger-style and flat-picking, classical and otherwise. That interest is being reflected in the instruments that are being made. When I was starting out, around 1975, a beginner guitar was rubbish, and basically a waste of money. Today, a beginner guitar is much more playable, and likely to encourage people to make good music. At the other extreme, the boutique makers are making wonderful instruments. The big manufacturers are doing great work as well.
Your forthcoming solo CD is essentially a celebration of the guitar, on which you play a different model on each of the 15 tracks. What’s next for you?
I’m going to do an album of duets with various people from around the world. I’ve already started. I’ve recorded some stuff with Russ Barenberg, in Nashville, playing his beautiful old vintage Gibson. I was almost in tears at how gorgeous it sounded. And I’ve also done some stuff with Martin Simpson. I want each track to reflect a different aspect of what I do, or different aspect of the music I’m interested in, whether it be a Scotch-Gaelic song, or Irish fiddle playing, or bluegrass guitar, or finger-style guitar. It’s going to be a sort of musical biograph