Áine Tyrrell – singing her way home

AFTER a decade of living on Bundjalung Country and weaving a forceful thread in the tapestry of its creative community, the fervent and outspoken artist Áine Tyrrell is bidding farewell.

Her departure to return to Ireland with her family is imminent, but before she leaves, the singer will perform a farewell show at Brunswick Head on June 8.

“I’ve just released a song, Singing Our Way Home – the second from my album, and it’s been one people have found to be a medicine song.”

“I wrote it with a beautiful friend of mine down in Naarm, Melbourne, and we had sung it in circle that very first time.

“I wanted to release it like that, so I flew down a couple weeks back, and we recorded a beautiful version.

“It’s that feeling of being in circle together and in song, and a time to reflect on my time here.”

War on the other side of the world precipitated Tyrrell’s decision, who, after speaking publicly about Gaza over the last 18 months, said she had finally been worn down by the harassment and strain she has experienced.

Stalked on social media and accosted at shows and in public, the artist said it became relentless.

“It’s a constant feeling of surveillance with everything I do and say,” she said.

“I’ve been screamed at, spat at, and people have come to my shows, filmed what I said and wrote things down and posted about it.

“I’ve been told at festivals that I can’t sing about this or say that – it’s been wild.

“For a long time, I wasn’t giving it oxygen, and I came to see it as normal, but going back home to Ireland and playing shows made me realise my nervous system was in such a different place.

Tyrrell said the inherent advocacy in Ireland wasn’t something that one did but just who they were.

“You get labelled an activist or whatever, but in Ireland, because of our history and that we fought so hard to keep our culture and language, it’s passed down how important that is,” she said.

“So, when we see that elsewhere we understand, and the arts in Ireland have a long history of driving art that is political.

“There’s a cultural thing here that discourages people being political: a sportsperson should just stick to kicking footy, and a singer should just entertain.

“You don’t want to put your head above and get it chopped off like me.”

Tyrrell moved to the Northern Rivers 10 years ago, escaping domestic violence to make a new life for herself and her children.

“It’s all been full on, and there was so much to consider,” she said.

“It’s a big thing. The kids are 18, 16, and 14 now, and they have mixed feelings – it’s a massive change. It won’t quite feel real until we’re there.”

The rights of children were not up for political debate, Tyrrell said, and nor was being against the starvation of children a controversial position.

“I’ve had a friend reach out and tell me they saw me wearing a shirt with Arabic writing and that I made them feel unsafe,” she said.

“Since when does Arabic, an ancient language, make you feel unsafe?

“It’s mind-boggling to me that children are being bombed every night, but a six-foot white guy living in the safety of an Australian city feels endangered by my shirt.”

It’s a whiplash-speed shift from this masthead’s last interview, in which she spoke eloquently and powerfully about healing through art.

But art is always political, and the political is personal.

In a final, glorious gig, Tyrrell celebrates her art and deep connections to a place and people she loves.

She hopes to return regularly as she settles into a new flow, but for now, the parting is bittersweet.

For tickets, visit brunswickpicturehouse.com/aine-tyrrell-8-jun