MUSIC REVIEW : GALWAY AND CHIEFTAINS AT THE BOWL

On paper it must have seemed a good idea. Bring flutist James Galway and the Chieftains--Irishmen all--together for a program that would tip its hat to the Emerald Isle.

As it turned out, what resulted Wednesday at the Hollywood Bowl was a mix of two styles that didn’t mesh very well.

Galway produced poised, mellifluous and consistently bland tones. He stretched out phrases and preferred languid tempos. He also seemed afflicted with an uncharacteristically wide vibrato, though the reedy amplification system may have accentuated this.

The Chieftains played with directness, simplicity and lively variety. They almost always shaped phrases differently from what Galway did, and the differences could be heard in succession (“Danny Boy” or “Down by the Sally Gardens”) or simultaneously (“Carrickfergus”), and not to Galway’s advantage. For traditional music, the Chieftains’ way seemed right.

To his credit, the popular Galway did not try to make the evening into a star turn. He spent most of the program playing right along with the Chieftains and only indulged himself--or his fans--once, with a prominent, but stylistically jarring Henry Mancini medley on a tin whistle. Bodhran player Kevin Conneff also sang two unaccompanied solos with a pale, affecting tenor. And it was the Chieftains’ Paddy Moloney, not Galway, who introduced the selections with informal, friendly banter.

Yet, for all that, it was almost as if the Chieftains didn’t trust the appeal of the folk material. They also played excerpts from film music composed in a traditional style by group piper Moloney. But it was all second-rate, forgettable stuff.

When they offered the unadulterated real thing, the effect was magical. In “Drowsey Maggie,” there were the delicate and plush tones of harpist Derek Bell; the hiccuping, squeally piping of Moloney; the woody barkings and watery arpeggios of flutist Matt Molloy; the contrasting frisky and melancholic bowing by fiddlers Martin Fay and Sean Keane. And the medley of three tunes composed by Irish harper Turlough O’Carolan proved a heady delight.

Irish step dancer Brian Grant made a series of lively contributions. With arms held stiffly down at his sides, Grant executed a kind of flashy-rhythm tap dancing, mixing in intricate cross-steps, buoyant bounces and scissor-like kicks. He was dazzling.

The tally for the evening was three loud airplanes and an approving audience of 14,581.