Hi - from what I remember of the newsbreak on the gigs being announced - it's purpose was to bring together a video/DVD - so Yep - I'm sure it's on the way.
I managed to get to the open night - and to put it politely - mother of God it was Brilliant.....
I've copied and pasted a review which went out in the Irish Times (under account so can't link it - sorry for the words ) so if a proper jouirnalists summing can be of help to describe the night better than I .
Rgds - Diesel
PS Journalists name credited below.
Planxty, Vicar St, Dublin: Micheál Martin should bottle and dispense Planxty: with curative properties that should tackle every ailment from ingrown toenails to cancer. Endorphins were flowing so fervently across the entire audience last Friday in Vicar St that we levitated rather than ambled towards the exits.
There was an air of expectation hanging over the crowd beforehand that would fire a rocket launcher. 23 years is a mighty long time to wait for the rekindling, but somehow we guessed that the wait would be worth it.
Just as soon as Liam Ó Floinn exhorted the rest of them to 'take it away boys', we knew we were on home turf and that not only would the sods be cut, but that they'd be turned, footed and loaded on the trailer by the time the lights came up, an exhilarating two hours later.
Ó Floinn's invisible readying of the bellows, Lunny's and Irvine's intricate tapestry of bouzouki and mandolin, and Christy's nervy introductions had the sardine-packed audience on the edge of their seats from the get go. Lunny's bouzouki has always been credited as the engine of the band, and rightly so, his muscular, driving rhythms marking out their territory. Andy Irvine's mandolin and guitar cross-stitched in between with that old familiar ease, his vocals lending their characteristic finesse to the pot. And Christy's sheer ebullience guaranteed that the epic sagas such as The Good Ship Kangaroo gathered all before them in their welcoming gabháil.
But Liam Ó Floinn was the lynchpin that not only held them together but bolstered them so securely that they could take flight. His utterly controlled, surgically precise reading of everything from Sí Bheag Sí Mhór to Tabhair Dom Do Lámh and An Buachaill Chaol Dubh was enough to lure the hardiest of piping allergists into the midst of the mêlée. And when he sidled into the heart of Christy's ultimate set piece, that spellbinding, 26 verse tale of adultery, murder (and true love) that is Little Musgrave, well, some of us simply exited the planet at that moment, content to float free on the sheer genius and magic of the ensemble playing.
They acknowledged their inheritances generously, from Ballyvourney's Elizabeth Cronin to Mickey McConnell and John Reilly. They traced the thread from Turlough O'Carolan all the way to the anonymous donation of Little Musgrave, found by Christy on a series of loose pages languishing on an auctioneer's floorboards.
There were punters there who probably still have the stubs of their tickets from the early days. Everyone just knew that this was going to be something special. For those of us who'd lived their music through the albums, never having witnessed them in 3D, it was akin to an awakening. Liam Ó Floinn's pipes were the real revelation, the Marilyn Monroe who burst from the cake at JFK's birthday party. Breaths will be held in anticipation of their live album, and after that, who knows? But these boys' appetites for one another's company won't be easily sated by a dozen New Year gigs. New tunes are lurking very close to the stage door. We could almost hear them tiptoeing towards Lunny's bouzouki as we floated home.