The Man enjoys home comforts: Van Morrison loosens up a little in small Northern Ireland venue

About 400,000 Garth Brooks fans may still be licking their wounds over his aborted recent concerts in Ireland. But Irish musician Van Morrison gave about 400 of his most devoted followers something worth writing home about at the end of last month with a rare small-venue show virtually in his own backyard.

At one point the singer, composer and lyricist grabs, of all things, a ukulele, pulls a stool up in front of a microphone stand and sits his compact, stocky frame down, announcing to the audience at the Slieve Donard Resort and Spa in Newcastle (not far from his hometown of Belfast): "It's comedy time again."

"This is called 'sit-down comedy' - it was invented by Billy Connolly," the 68-year-old Rock and Roll Hall of Famer says, a broad grin appearing briefly on his ruddy, round face. "Just so you know I'm legitimate, Billy Connolly says I'm very funny. I'm not going to argue with that."

It's a rare - for Morrison especially - moment of onstage levity, the kind of revealing drop of his guard that few outside an inner circle of close associates ever get to witness. And this is why those looking on have forked over close to US$400 a ticket to see Morrison in such an intimate setting. About a quarter of the fans have crossed the Atlantic from the US, while another sizeable portion has come from across Europe for the chance to see the artist sometimes referred to as the Belfast Cowboy, says Howard Hastings, managing director of Hastings Hotels.

Hastings owns the resort and spa where Morrison was performing in the first of two nights in the swanky ballroom, which was outfitted for the shows with three dozen white linen-draped tables for 10. Morrison in recent years has adopted it as his home-field performance space of choice, using it to prepare for other tour dates or just to comfortably play for local fans. "He likes it because it feels like the blues clubs he started out in," Hastings says.

Since he emerged as the frontman of the Belfast band Them in 1964, Morrison has become one of pop music's most cherished figures, an artist prized by fans, critics and his fellow Rock Hall of Famers including - but hardly limited to - Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen and U2. But he is also one of pop's most hermetic figures, one who rarely grants interviews and who during concerts rarely chats with audiences.

Dressed in a black fedora, shades and a dark grey suit, Morrison was accompanied by his musician daughter Shana, who opens the concert with a three-song set of American country-inspired songs, and an accomplished six-piece band. Like many of the musicians and writers who influenced him, Morrison has been deeply inspired by where he grew up and, over the decades, has sung about the cobblestone streets, the undulating hills and the mystic mists of Ireland.

But like so many other European musicians, he's also been powerfully drawn to American music and culture, which is reflected in a rendition of Rough God Goes Riding, a song about the loss of heroes. Morrison name-checks a string of Old West outlaws that extends from Jesse James and Billy the Kid through Clint Eastwood, which draws a laugh from fans.