On losing Glen Hansard
He shows that sincerity and community can survive within us despite empire and industry.
Glen Hansard died after a motorcycle crash July 29, 2026. This week.
I was planning on writing on another topic but I was distracted by this loss. It has struck me hard.
I was talking last night with my sweetheart about it. We had both stayed up late the night he died listening to his music and watching videos of him.
Glen was an Irish musician. You might likely know him in the musical and movie Once. In particular his song it is built around, Falling Slowly.
If you needed to say two things about Glen, they would be that he was a musician and that he was Irish. His Celtic accent and mannerisms were beguiling to me, but there was something deeper about his Irishness; the heritage of Irish music and history and the tales told informed everything about him.
He started busking on Dublin streets at a very young age, and would frequently return to the idea of singing on the street for people.
His concerts frequently were sing alongs, which he seemed quite happy about.
When Irish musicians become internationally famous, they are frequently undercut for their sincerity and passion. Think Sinead O’Connor and Bono. Looking at how Glen spoke about Ireland, I get a sense that the sincerity came from a strong shared belief in the heritage that propped up everything he did, that his purpose was to carry that heritage out to us, be we Irish or not.
I reflect that when a person from a strong culture, such as the Irish or Native Americans, come out into our dried, rationalized, world, the sincerity of them is what is attacked and undermined.
That they are oppressed and broken by empire when that sincerity is what can hold us together and make us resistant to being colonized.
Cynicism is the position that the oppressor can take to avoid criticism.
When you adopt cynicism, you are accepting subjugation of your heritage. Our belief in our community and ourselves, our belief in our stories and songs, is our resistance to being conquered.
“The victor writes the history. Those who suffer write songs.”
— Glen Hansard
Watching videos of him speaking, I came to understand what I felt we lost when he died; we lost someone who believed in us and could help us believe in ourselves.
When I first saw Once I was surprised how attached I felt to a story that was so simple sweet. Glen bought a simple integrity to everything he has done. I am sad that such a builder of community strength is no longer with us.
A community theater here in Central Oregon put on Once this year. We went and it was gorgeous. The intimate space spun the story, a simple tale of love, into one that I felt I was participating in. And when we audience members squeezed out into the dark street, I felt close to all those who shared those songs with me for an evening.
Before that performance, Glen toured through Oregon. The cast of this small local performance of Once drove the several hours to see him play. Glen learned that they were there so he brought them on stage to sing.
There he is, in the background, letting others take the song forward. Take the song to me.
I feel grateful for the years Glen was here on earth getting us to sing together. I will look to the next person who will take his place. For its rock hard commitment to standing up for sincerity, I wouldn’t be surprised if they come from the streets of Dublin, too.