Jovial Barley Bree natural storytellers

Barley Bree, a trio of string players originally from Ireland and, since 1978, Nova Scotia, made its Maine debut before several hundred people Saturday night at the Maine Center for the Arts. The music was lively and sincere, beautifully performed and indefatigably delivered. In fact, had these jovial characters been allowed to go on past the 2 1/2 hours they played, they probably would have done so happily.

In Gaelic dialect, “barley bree” means “barley brew,” better known as whiskey, of which the group’s ringleader and guitarist Tom Sweeney spoke frequently. But Sweeney spoke frequently anyway, spending nearly as much time telling Irish stories, poems, and jokes as performing reels and jigs. He was full of the type of mirth often brought out by dipping into a good jug a whiskey.

Sweeney talked about growing up in Tyrone, Ireland, in a Catholic family of 16 children with a lot of hand-me-down clothing. His eldest brother was the first in line to wear the family clothes, which were purchased from the Salvation Army. “He spent four years going to school dressed as a Japanese colonel,” Sweeney joked. And his brother, Jimmy, also a member of Barley Bree, said, “Don’t believe a word of it.” Jimmy also played guitar, as well as banjo and bodhran (Irish goatskin drum).

The third member of the group, P.V. O’Donnell, from County Donegal way up in the north of Ireland, was a fiddleman with an extraordinarily alluring touch. He led “The Old Resting Chair,” a traditional instrumental piece about an ancient chair-shaped rock that looks out over a cove and beckons passersby with a sign that reads “Rest and be thankful.” O`Donnell was also quite amazing when he played the lovely violin solo “The Coolin,” and “O`Carolan’s Concerto,” accompanied by Tom on penny whistle.

The evening was filled with more than 20 Irish songs, including “The Star of the County Down,” “Gypsy Lad,” “Whiskey in the Jar,” “The Wild Colonial Dance,” “Ireland My Home,” and “Lord of the Dance,” all of which Barley Bree has recorded at some point on their six releases.

Tom Sweeney kept trying to get the audience to participate in sing-alongs, but, as is so often the case at the Maine Center, the audience was not terribly interested in a songfest. “Brilliant,” Sweeney said after one limp chorus, “You’re the Bangor Tabernacle Choir.”

One of the most poignant songs of the concert was the ballad “Kilkenny, Ireland,” about a 30-year correspondence between two brothers — one of whom came to America during the potato famine and one of whom stuck it out in Ireland.

The audience was most amused with “The Irish Country and Western Super Song,” which Tom described as having “every known tragedy of the country-and-western repertoire.” In this twangy parody, Tom scruntched up his face and his voice and sang about Granny, the loose screw in her wheelchair, and the cliff she fell off as a result of the faulty mechanics. Her blind grandson fell off the cliff looking for her, and two ambulances — coming from two different directions — crashed into one another and went over the cliff, too. When the town gathered on the cliff for prayer, the cliff gave away, and thank goodness the song ended there. “Thank y’all so much,” Tom said, as the audience had clapped fully.

He ended the concert with this blessing: “If you die, may you die at 102, shot by a jealous lover. And may we all live to see in our lifetime a peaceful, prosperous, and happy Ireland.” During an encore, Barley Bree sang “The Wild Rover” to a well-serenaded and appreciative audience.