The folklorist preserving Ireland’s hidden history and traditions – ‘You can go anywhere in the country and easily fall into conversation with a stranger’

By Simon Bourke, Wexford People

When Michael Fortune enquired about buying the folklore.ie domain name he faced little in the way of competition. This was before folklore was “sexy”, before young people began taking an interest. It was the 1990s, and the nation was too busy spending money, too busy living, to think of the old days, the dark days, and their corny pastimes.

Fast forward to 2025 and, having grown bored of wealth, the people of Ireland are comfortable enough in themselves to cast an eye backwards.

“I bought folklore.ie years ago,” says Michael. “None of the universities had an interest in folklore at the time, and there was no real interest in the art world either. It was a lonely road for awhile, folklore was considered very backward.”

Now, Irish culture, our old traditions and ways, are undergoing a revival, reaching the very youngest of minds.

“Young lads are more interested in history than they ever were, even little lads in school are interested in it. There’s a revival of Irish culture in terms of the language too, it seems to be coming back big time, whereas in my age when I was coming up you wouldn't see this.”

Michael’s age was the mid-90s, an era when school-leavers in rural Co Wexford were beginning to realise there was more to life than some would have them think. For Michael this meant migrating to the west but not, as one might assume, to study history.

One of the first projects I ever did was in Limerick… going into a school and getting young lads connected, collecting local stories and turning them into little plays and stuff like that

“When I finished secondary school I didn't know what I wanted to do. My mother and father would have finished school at 14 and went off to work whenever they got work. So the idea of going on to third level was completely foreign to them. That was even a big jump for me to go. But I went to art college and ended up doing digital video photography.”

A year in Galway was followed by three in Limerick, and it was in the latter that Michael began formulating the ideas which would eventually become his passion, his life’s work.

“I hung around Limerick for a few years afterwards, and even though I was doing video and photography work it was all to do with folklore and history and place and the lives of ordinary people. One of the first projects I ever did was in Limerick, out in Boher, this was in 1998. I remember going into a school and getting young lads connected, collecting local stories and turning them into little plays and stuff like that.

"I wanted to make them aware of the language they were using, the words they were saying, all the little local things. I did another project in the island in the Limerick, and out in Moyross; all the young lads had lovely Limerick accents on them, they’d fill you full of lies but that's all part of the deal as well, the messiness of it.”

Given that this was the pre-Internet age there was a certain novelty factor in being recorded, in having your lives documented.

“We revisited Limerick this year and people said to me, ‘that left a big impression on Limerick, thanks for coming and telling our stories’. We went back to the same schools and the youngsters were telling the same stories, some new stories.”

There was a certain poignancy in reconnecting with some of the families who had previously featured in Michael’s work.

“One of the little chaps died shortly after our recording, I kept in touch with his mother afterwards. It showed that we can take it for granted a little bit, these are communities and people that wouldn't be documented, they kept all the photographs and the little videos we took. You're talking about life in Limerick in the late ’90s, it’s another era, that's a particular point in their lives, and you’re always aware of the fact that you're preserving a moment in time and a moment of their lives that no one else has.”

Having cut his teeth in the welcoming environs of Limerick city and county, Michael returned home, to Wexford, where he would begin a journey which continues to this day.

“I went to Australia for a year and when I came back home I was on the bottom rung of the ladder in Wexford, I had to figure out how to make a living again,” he says. “So, I started applying for grants with different arts offices and got a few bob here and there, I was applying for projects where you might go work in a day care centre, recording older people, telling their stories. It happened of its own accord, really.”

I have a huge interest in ghost stories and the supernatural and all the little rituals and practices we believed in and things that we did that people now might think are mad

Michael was insistent on the route he was going to take and had a very definite idea of the type of films he wanted to make.

“I wasn't ever going to do reminiscent work. I was very particular about that. I have a huge interest in ghost stories and the supernatural and all the little rituals and practices we believed in and things that we did that people now might think are mad,” he explains. “We were collecting anything from holy well stories, and field names, to old words and verses, that kind of stuff. And all we had was a video camera.”

When it came to premiering his work, Michael was content to share it with those responsible for making it happen; the stars and co-stars of his productions.

"We’d show it in the local hall or day care centre, and back then you'd either have the big television that'd be rolled in or a projector. And it was brilliant. It was magic. The people would be bursting their holes laughing at stuff. It could be the most serious of things, ‘Johnny Murphy there, he lost a leg in the tractor’.

"And afterwards, you can't get out the door, because they'd all come up to you and go, ‘feck, I should have told you this thing as well’."

Although there are thousands of hours of footage on Michael’s YouTube page, free to watch, there are many thousands more secreted in the many files and old floppy discs which populate his home office. Admitting that somewhere in the back of his mind is a nagging fear that he will somehow lose all this footage, Michael’s one dream is that he can have all his work archived at the Digital Repository of Ireland in Dublin.

“They want to protect digital content and I have digital content since the late 90s on computers up there, delicate files on old hard drives right. I would just want to get my stuff up there so they will have it and it's organised and kept safe, basically.”

Accessing those files is not straightforward however.

“I'm the only one able to open up those old operating video editing programs, I know what buttons to press to open that G5 map computer. No one else does. If I brought you a computer from 2003 or 2004 I'd open up them Limerick lads talking; I have every little story cut and edited with the title on it.”

Michael Fortune with his new book, The Folklore of Wexford, Volume Two.

“I got to a stage where I had 70 terabytes of digital video content, ridiculous amount of interviews, all edited, some on YouTube, some all over the place, and I said, ‘listen, I'm getting older, this digital stuff is delicate, wouldn't it be a chance now just to get some of that stuff that's in your head and channel it into a book’.”

The Folklore of Wexford Volume 1 was released in 2023 and sold out the door, required several reprints as people all over the county waited patiently to get their hands on a copy.

There's a particular type of woman in south Tipperary, an older woman, and she'd f*cking go through you. You know the kind of way, real straight like that

“I didn't know what to expect. The whole sales thing was huge. The night we were launching in Eason's at Gorey, there was a whole group of older men coming up to me saying they’d never usually read books. They said ‘well done and keep up the good work’. And that’s all you want. You know you're reaching the right people then.”

But what of those people? What has he learned about people across Ireland during almost 30 years of tracing their folklore and history?

“I know accents around the country fairly well. You get to know the nature of people. There's a particular type of woman in south Tipperary, an older woman, and she'd f*cking go through you. You know the kind of way, real straight like that and she'd be cutting you and then she'd wink at you. And there’s a breed of man up in north Wexford, they're the nicest men, the most solid men. Sometimes men can be trying to dog their friends, in a jokey way. But they’re just the opposite. They’re real gentle.”

In that 30-year span, Michael says he has begun to notice subtle changes in the personalities of our older people, and, more worryingly, the loss of the stories he strives so hard to preserve.

“I went down to Grantstown last year after recording there 20 years ago. And I noticed a difference in the older people then. The people 20 years ago had so much more material. It's just nature, everything is going, everything is being lost. One thing I hope we will never lose is that connection to people, you can go anywhere in Ireland and easily fall into conversation with a stranger.”

In addition to the two volumes of The Folklore of Wexford (and the impending third volume), Michael has another long-running project which has developed organically during his travels.

One thing I hope we will never lose is that connection to people, you can go anywhere in Ireland and easily fall into conversation with a stranger

“I've been documenting old dressers since 2015 and doing calendars on them. It came from when granny died. When she got sick, a nurse came out and told her she had to move her bed downstairs, we moved the bed down and the nurse said ‘you're going to have to move that dresser’ and my granny said ‘like shite, I'm moving the dresser’. Her whole life was in it.

“Afterwards, I contacted a couple of arts officers (in county councils around the country) and said ‘listen would you give me a few bob if I go around and document dressers in people's homes,’ And they gave it to me and we had a little exhibition.”

Pat Boggan's dresser which featured in Michael Fortune's 2025 dresser calendar.

That exhibition led to the creation of a calendar, a uniquely Irish production which celebrates the humble Irish dresser we all remember from our mammy’s, our nanny’s, homes.

“If you show me a couple of dressers, I'll know what part of the country they’re from,” Michael says. “What people like about the calendar is that when they scan the QR codes they can access an interview with the person in the photos. And I've used that in the folklore books as well. One woman texted me and said her mother, who’s in her eighties, was over the kitchen table, sat there watching the YouTube videos on her phone after scanning the QR code on the calendar.”

If you don't write your own history someone else is going to do it for you and they'll usually make a balls of it

The likelihood is that Michael Fortune will be documenting the lives of people all over Ireland for many years to come, preserving stories and traditions which may otherwise be lost to the annals of time for the rest of his working life. And his hope is that by doing what he does he can inspire others to follow suit, to tell their own stories, share their own memories, and add, in some small way, to the vast tapestry folklorists and historians have been weaving for generations.

“I'd love for people to think that I represented the stories and voices of ordinary people and brought them to a place where other people could engage with it. And I want to encourage others to do the same. That's what I keep saying to people, do the same. You've got these stories, go and record your own people because we won't be able to do it when they’re gone.

“If you don't write your own history someone else is going to do it for you and they'll usually make a balls of it, so tell your own story.”