Ronan Tynan
Some might say that it was one of the worst possible times to start a career in music. Ronan Tynan was in the midst of his residency as a physician—not the most idle or stress-free of times—when he decided to pursue his lifelong passion. At 33, the young doctor in training followed the advice of his father Edmund and began formal voice training at the College of Music in Dublin under the renowned Veronica Dunne.
Tynan, for his part, has no problems with having embarked upon his musical journey when he did. “Some would say my timing was just perfect,” says Tynan, now arguably one of the most famous singers in the world and a founding member of the celebrated Irish Tenors. “I may have been in just the right place at just the right time and caught the right train.”
A lot of people might not have predicted he would have caught that train, or any train—but Tynan’s parents never doubted that he was destined to do great things, and their confidence in him has inspired the singer all his life.
That he has accomplished so much is all the more remarkable considering the formidable obstacles that might have stood in his way.
Ronan Tynan came into the world in 1960 and grew up on a farm at the foot of Spa Mountain, near the village of Nass, County Kilkenny. Tynan was born with phocomelia, a defect that in his case caused a deformity of the lower limbs. For the first few years of his life, he couldn’t stand or walk.
When he was 3, his mother Therese and his father took him to a prosthetics clinic in Dublin, where he was fitted with a specially designed pair of boots. For the first time in his life, Ronan Tynan stood. He took his first steps. And he has never, not for a moment, stood still since—even when, at 20, a serious car accident so badly injured his legs that he elected to have both of them amputated below the knee. Once again, prosthetics came to the rescue. In weeks, he was up and walking again on his artifical limbs. And soon after that, competing in the paralympics and winning medals in track and field events.
Some people might have been daunted by so many challenges, but not Tynan. “I didn’t look at myself as disabled or physically changed. I was never brought up with that kind of image. My father used to say, ‘There’s no reverse gear in life. There’s just forward motion.’ So you can’t wear your disabilities on your sleeve. People really respect that I get on with my life. I don’t look for anything special. I just get on with it.”
Tynan’s father and mother are gone, but it’s clear their words remain a guiding force. “They were the yin and the yang of my life,” he says quietly. “They believed in me 100 percent and they gave me so much in my life. I always think of them. There’s not a day when I forget them. I owe everything to them.”
By the time Tynan decided to pursue medical studies, probably no one was surprised by anything this doggedly determined and confident young man might do, once he set his mind to it.
And then, finally, came music.
For as long as he can remember, Ronan Tynan sang. “I had a wonderful relationship with my dad, and we used to sing at home,” he says. Later on in life, he adds, he’d entertain friends—and anyone else who happened along—in local pubs. “I was the benefactor of many a pint of Guinness,” he says. “I knew I was onto a good thing.”
For the longest time, singing was much more than just an enjoyable diversion but far short of a profession. Still, he says, he lacked the formal training that might turn his amateur talents into something more polished and professional. “I just loved singing,” he says. “It was just one of those things. Still, I knew nothing about the rudiments of singing at all. So one day my dad said, why don’t you take lessons? I did, and I became passionate about it.”
Once again, Tynan’s talent and drive came to the fore. His studies with “Ronnie” Dunne served him well. It took him less than a year of studies to win the John McCormack Cup for Tenor Voice and the BBC talent show “Go For It.”
One of the judges of that contest was television producer Bill Hughes. Inspired by the success of the Three Tenors (Pavarotti, Carreras and Domingo), Hughes in 1998 dreamed up the idea of a trio of Irish tenors. Hughes remembered the thrilling young tenor from “Go For It” from just a few years before.
“I was the first Irish guy to be asked,” recalls Tynan. (Initially a Canadian John McDermott was also a member, as was Anthony Kearns. Finbar Wright signed on when McDermott elected to leave.) As for what happened after that, you probably know. The Irish Tenors became quite the franchise (and remained so, with Karl Scully, after Tynan left in 2006 to pursue a solo career). They seemed to be on PBS every time you turned on the channel.
There was never really any question in Tynan’s mind that the Irish Tenors would be huge. “I knew America would love it because there’s such a huge Irish heritage there. I knew we would be a big hit. Irish Americans love the old Irish songs.”
Tynan’s solo career has been equally successful, and he shows every sign of enjoying being on his own in front of an audience. “I have my own band as well,” he says.
“You control your own destiny (as a solo performer). I work very hard at it because I believe people have paid good money to see you and you want to give people the best concert they can experience. If youre passionate about it, it’s not work. You can’t phone it in.”
Of course, Tynan still sings the money songs—Fields of Athenry, Raglan Road, and the ubiquitous Danny Boy. But he also mixes genres with ease. The approach is often described as Classic Crossover—and that means different things to different people. Tynan doesn’t think much about the label. “I sing songs,” he says. “It doesn’t matter if they’re contemporary ballads, opera, Springsteen… whatever. I don’t like to brand or classify what I do. I do everything. Let the purists call it classical crossover. In my book, I’m a singer.”
Asked if he ever wants to just break loose and sing a rebel song like “Men Behind the Wire,” Tynan bursts out laughing. “I know that song! ‘Armored cars and tanks and guns came to take away our sons!’ I used to sing that song in pubs,” he says. Ah, but a song like that isn’t going to make it into his repertoire any time soon. “You have to think of your audience, and some songs are more appropriate than others.”
Tynan will bring his act to just such an appreciative audience at the Keswick Theatre in Glenside Saturday, March 6, at 8 p.m. Ticket phone: (215) 572-7650.
