Chief O'Neill's Sunday Session
Session: Chief O'Neill's Pub
Location: 3471 N. Elston Ave., Chicago, IL 60618
Day/Time: Sundays from 5-7 pm
Session Leaders: Pauline Conneely and friends (Often Kathleen Conneely, Jesse Langen, and Larry Nugent)
On a chilly Sunday evening in Chicago, I stepped through the door of Chief O'Neill's Pub, my whistle hidden in my purse and my adrenaline pumping. This wasn't my first time at this legendary Irish session, but something was different tonight. I've spent the past few months studying Chief O'Neill himself and tonight the weight of history pressed gently against the present. As I settled myself into the session nook, surrounded by female musicians, at a woman owned bar, I felt like perhaps the giant portrait of Chief O'Neill should be replaced, at least for this evening - because tonight's about the formidable women shaping Irish music in Chicago.
The portrait that I wish was hung so prominently over the fireplace is of Selena O'Neill. Few know her name - the woman who helped transcribe Francis (Chief) O'Neill's life work. Selena O'Neill (no relation to Francis O'Neill), was a brilliant violinist who worked closely with him on his legendary music collections. She's credited on multiple publications as an editor, assistant, and copyist, a silent architect behind the preservation of well over 1,800 tunes. Her work helped shape the foundation of Irish music as we know it today.
And yet, like so many women in the history of music, her presence is largely invisible. That's why it feels poetic that some 150 years later, this pub bearing the Chief's name is now home to powerhouse session led not by men, but by women. Women who, knowingly or not, are part of the same lineage Selena helped build.
The Sunday night session at Chief O'Neill's isn't always predictable, but this night was unforgettable. The lineup felt mythic: Leading were Pauline Conneely on banjo, her energy sharp and unmistakable and her sister, Kathleen Conneely on whistle, focused and quietly intense. Liz Carroll, legendary composer and fiddler, was beside me with quiet authority. Jack Kinsella on box, young and blazing with talent. Guitarist Pat Broaders anchored the whole ensemble with his rich, unshakeable rhythm.
Pauline and Kathleen grew up in Bedford, England, to Irish parents from Connemara and Longford. Their father, Mick, played fiddle, flute and accordion, while their mother, Lizzie, was a champion step-dancer. Pauline and Kathleen learned from London based Irish music teacher, Brendan Mulkere from County Clare who would travel to Bedford often to teach the Conneely family and others. Both sisters have established themselves as premier players and teachers on their instruments in the Chicago area.
Liz Carroll, a Chicago native born to Irish immigrant parents, is a celebrated fiddler and composer. She won the Senior All-Ireland at eighteen and has since received numerous accolades, including a National Heritage Fellowship and a Grammy nomination. Her compositions have become integral to the Irish music repertoire. And yet, her gentle and humble nature makes sitting next to her in a session a true gift.
Put together, their playing was solid, beautiful and totally intimidating for an intermediate player like myself. I found myself sitting patiently waiting for a tune I knew (and could keep up with) while the music sped by me tight, fast and fearless.
I sat quietly on the periphery when Liz leaned over to Jack, sitting on my right, and asked about a tune he'd just played. "Was that a Paddy O'Brien tune?" she asked, sparkling with curiosity.
Jack nodded, "I haven't a name for it." He had learned it from another formidable woman in Irish music, Eileen O'Brien - not on fiddle but on accordion, which she taught Jack for some time. Liz lit up. She told us that she still had a cassette tape from 1978 or 1979 recorded at Eileen's house with that tune on it, back then still new to her.
"You wouldn't think we'd still be sitting around all these years later playing the same tunes. Amazing." She said. It confirmed everything I'd been studying about the legacy of immigration through Irish music. It flows from one of end of the pond to the other like water that's both here and there - across time and space.
After some sleuthing and a long chat with flutist, Kevin Crawford, I found multiple names for the tune Jackson's Morning Breeze, Seamus Connolly's, and O'Brien from Newtown. "I'm pretty confident that Seamus composed that tune for Paddy O'Brien," Kevin commented, "because Seamus and Paddy O'Brien recorded it on a very famous album back in the 70s together and they were very dear friends." With even more sleuthing, I found that Eileen (daughter of Paddy O'Brien) published it in her book The Definitive Collections of the Compositions of Paddy O'Brien, but didn't credit him as the composer. Instead it was listed as one of his "sets". Kevin's theory might be true. All of a sudden, I found myself doing work similar to Chief O'Neill himself, realizing how immense of a project his "O'Neill's Music of Ireland" is with 1850 melodies.
The set of jigs Jack played was Joe Whelan's, The High Part of the Road, and O'Brien from Newtown. I've transcribed the set here for members of the Trad Tourist Blog - both to honor that moment and to preserve it for anyone wanting to learn the tunes as they were played that night.
The pub itself is an anchor in Chicago's traditional music scene in the Avondale neighborhood. Named after Francis O'Neill, but steered in the present by husband and wife team, Siobhán and Brendan McKinney, Chief O'Neill's is more than just a bar. It's a curated space for cultural continuity. Siobhán was there that night, floating on joy and laughter from table to table, you can tell she's quite a force behind the vision. The walls are lined with framed photos of musicians, there are rooms for concerts and other performances throughout the year, and a deep respect for the tradition that lives within it.
The place is cozy and polished, but also exceedingly decorated for each season. This night, it was green from corner to corner, as if the fairies had come to decorate for St. Patrick's Day overnight.
Sunday nights, it becomes something almost ceremonial. This isn't the kind of session where people noodle their way through jigs or try out new tunes. It's a show of force and skill - the best of the best show up for this session. But beneath that, there's something more. Something I was only able to feel after a few hours into the session and with a few glasses of wine refilled around the table - a softening.
My friend Colleen showed up about an hour into the session. With her there, I felt steadier and brave enough to start a set of jigs we'd learned off of Mary Bergin's Feadóga Stáin album. Colleen plays flute, but I suggested she play whistle with me on this set. We started the first jig.
Then something wild happened.
Kathleen leaned in, as expected, and started to play. Then Pauline grabbed a whistle from the table (yes - banjo magician, Pauline). And then Kathleen found another D whistle in her bag and handed it to Liz. She was reluctant, but then with a grin, a shrug, and a "what the hell" - she joined in too. And there we were, five women with tin whistles, playing Mary Bergin's rendition of Old Joe's Jig, Old Tipperary and Wheels of the World, laughing our way through a set like it was the most natural thing in the world.
There was something so luminous about it. The heirarcy was gone. I was surprised that Pauline and Liz did so well, actually. It was so ridiculous and silly that the entire room took on a joyful and light quality. I stopped mid-tune at one point because I couldn't keep from laughing. And all the while, Pat Broders was keeping up with us and Jack, not having a whistle of his own, just sat there shaking his head bewildered. And then, like the tide pulling back, the moment ended. All five whistles found their original homes and the air reset. But I didn't.
I walked out of the room that night with something more than when I arrived - I had become part of the legacy of strong women in Irish music.
If you're visiting Chicago and thinking of checking out a traditional Irish music session, Sunday night at Chief O'Neill's is not for the faint of heart, but it is unforgettable. Cheif's sits on Elston street without much around, most Chicagoans drive or take Ubers there. The food is top notch for fine Irish dining - with everything from fish and chips to braised pork shank and amazing desserts like their exquisite Bread Pudding. Sunday morning brunch will blow your mind with table upon table full of options. In the summer, the garden is a picturesque gathering spot often used for weddings. And be sure to check out their facebook page for upcoming concerts and events.
The session starts a 5 pm and goes until the musicians feel like stopping. Come prepared to listen, learn and be humbled. You'll hear echoes of Selena O'Neill and other women's contribution to Irish music. You'll feel Siobhán's presence shaping the space. And maybe - just maybe - you'll be pulled into a moment where tradition bends towards joy.
And if you do, make sure you bring your whistle.
If you love these posts, get ready to follow my path to Wexford for the All-Ireland Fleadh Cheoil 2025.
Help! My trio qualified for the All-Ireland!
We are a trio of musicians from Chicago - Carrie Collins on whistle, Mary Nolen on flute, and Marybeth Osowski on fiddle - and together we’ve been learning and playing Irish traditional music through the Irish Music School of Chicago. What began as individual journeys slowly became something shared: a rhythm we found in each other that deepened our love of the tunes and the tradition that holds them.
None of us grew up inside this music, but the first time we heard it played live, something shifted. It was as if an old memory stirred, a sound that felt both new and deeply familiar. Over time, as we learned more tunes and began to play together in sessions, Irish music became a kind of home. It held us through hard seasons and gave us something steady to return to - through chronic illness, through grief and change, and through the quiet disruptions that life brings.Today, Carrie teaches whistle at the Irish Music School of Chicago while managing the daily challenges of long COVID. Mary Nolen is a full-time school teacher, balancing the demands of the classroom with her love of music. Marybeth, a lifelong musician, brings a steady hand and seasoned ear to every rehearsal. For each of us, playing together has become a source of purpose, connection, and resilience.
This summer, something we never expected has happened—our trio has qualified to compete at the All-Ireland Fleadh Cheoil in Wexford. We entered the Midwest competition with the hope of growing as musicians and staying inspired. We never imagined it would lead us here: preparing to travel to Ireland and represent the Chicago Irish music community on one of the most respected stages in the world.
For us, this journey isn’t just about the competition. It’s about connection. It’s about stepping into a centuries-old tradition and meeting the people who have shaped and carried it across generations. It’s about honoring the community that welcomed us in and continuing to carry the music forward with care and love. And it’s about this quiet truth we’re learning, that even when life takes unexpected turns, there can still be moments of celebration, joy, and growth.
We’d be honored for your help getting there.Between airfare, accommodations, car rental, tuition for the summer school, and time away from work, our estimated expenses total around $9,000. Any amount you’re able to give will help us bring Chicago’s voice to Wexford and return with stories, tunes, and renewed inspiration to share with the community that raised us.Thank you for reading, for sharing, and for walking alongside us on this journey.With deep gratitude,Carrie, Mary, and Marybeth
