A Scottish Hootenanny - Tam O'Shanter's Fiddle Pilgrim Uniting Church Tue Feb 24, 2026 There are two shows featuring Celtic music on the Adelaide Fringe program at the moment. One of them features a foot-stomping, fist-pumping all in singalong of Irish songs in a packed tent with hundreds of people. The other is a more sedate classical treatment of Scottish folk tunes in a candlelit church. Sadly, this one: A Scottish Hootenanny: Tam O’Shanter’s Fiddle, barely managed double figures in attendance, let alone hundreds. So what’s happening here? Certainly the Irish show has arrived in town with a publicity machine in overdrive, but I’m sure there are thousands of people of Scottish descent in Adelaide. (2021 census counted 100,000 plus) so where were they? Is there so little appeal for a more dignified and sophisticated version of Celtic folk culture? Perhaps the publicity never found its potential audience. The contrast between the two shows’ attendance was stark, sad, and strange. A note on the word hootenanny. General consensus is that it is of American origin, though the Scots claim it may be a corruption of Hogmanay. Whatever its origins the word hootenanny conjures up thoughts of a vibrant, noisy celebration with music and dance. This hootenanny was none of those things. In fact, not much of what one might expect after reading the program’s event description was on show. It was a basically a classical music concert of well-known Scottish music and songs. I grant that the very small audience may have influenced decisions on the night but there was no singalong, no poetry reading - just a lone pianist doing his best to entertain by reciting stories and playing the music. He awkwardly and needlessly alternated between piano and lectern with microphone when he could have simply stood before the small audience and talked unamplified. It was a shame the stories were read from a script. So, no Alistair Sim to read Tam O’Shanter, no bagpipes, no fiddle, no singalongs, just some fine renditions on piano by Matthew Shiel. His playing was wonderful; the spoken narratives a little flat and perfunctory. I felt for him.