bee_pipes
09-18-2008, 02:43 PM
Around 1978 or so I met a fellow in North Carolina that had recently taken up the bagpipes. His retelling of the time and effort put in with a tutor and practice chanter to get to the point of playing actual pipes held no attraction for me. At the time I was half-heartedly struggling with learning to play a guitar, which was eventually lost to a pawnshop when it got between me and a drink. But I have always had a fondness for bagpipe music and the sounds produced by the instrument, when in the hands of a skilled operator, have stirred my blood since the first time I heard it.
A friend of mine, no small musical talent in his own right, once described bagpipe music as being very similar to the sound 4 cats would make while being slowly crushed. Others have described it as a number of geese being strangled. Oscar Wilde, on hearing a bagpipe, was heard to remark “Thank goodness there isn’t an odor too!” Tradition has it that the Irish gave the bagpipe to the Scotts as a joke, but the Scotts never got the joke. Nobody seems to be able to take or leave bagpipe music; you either hate it or love it. The English outlawed the playing of bagpipes, not as a matter of musical taste, but as a means of subjugating the Scotts; bagpipes were considered an instrument of war. There is speculation that a bagpipe-type instrument was played in Egypt, and that the Romans used the bagpipe with their infantry. Many countries of the world have a folk instrument that meets all the requirements of a bagpipe; in Spain it is called the Gaita, a Baghet in Italy and Musette in France. Pakistan is one of the most prolific manufacturers of highland bagpipes in the world.
The Great Highland Bagpipe, the variety played by the Scotts, *consists of a bag, which is a storage chamber for breath; three pipes, called drones, that play a continuous A note; a blow pipe, through which breath is added to the bag; and a chanter with holes, on which the melody is played. A practice chanter, used to learn the fingering of melodies for the bagpipe, is just the chanter and blowpipe without the added complications of bag and drones. The scale of the bagpipe consists of nine notes, ranged from low G up through high A; an octave and a note. How much trouble can a fellow get into with only nine notes? The limited scale does much in explaining the simplicity and monotony of bagpipe music to most of its critics.
The actual noise-maker in the bagpipe is by means of reeds, thin strips made from a variety of materials, traditionally cane, that vibrate when air passes by. Reeds are commonly found in harmonicas and the mouthpieces of saxophones, clarinets and other more common instruments. The bagpipes are a continuous-sound instrument; while being played there is always sound coming out of them. Think about the significance of that. There is no such thing as a rest in bagpipe music. In the hands of a skilled piper, the A notes of the melody can disappear into the drones, giving the impression of a rest in the melody, but this is an illusion. Because the reeds are far removed from the mouthpiece, unlike the clarinet or saxophone which can be manipulated by the tongue or lips, it is also continuous volume – no crescendo, no diminuendo – no emphasis by volume. Emphasis, rather, is by means of embellishments of notes – grace notes, rolls, throws, burls, etc.
One day, many years after meeting the novice piper in North Carolina, I found myself with a lot of time on my hands and thought I’d look into learning the pipes. Being alive during a time of technical innovation has its benefits; the internet put me in touch with a number of vendors only too happy to unleash another beginner on the world with a practice chanter. I purchased one and busily set about learning to play. Armed with my chanter, I was choking a single goose. The fingering was difficult in the beginning, and I was impatient to acquire enough skill to play a recognizable tune. It has been on-again off-again for a number of years now. I was fortunate enough to find a piper that spent some time with me in the beginning; I got a good start on reading music, beats, and some technique. The sound of the chanter was far from pleasing, though. With diligent practice, honking away, I mastered these nine notes and hit my next obstacle with learning the embellishments.
Most children in grade school learn about musical beats and the different types of note duration – whole notes, half notes, quarter notes, etc. A grace note is part of the emphasis the instrument uses and appears in music as a 32nd note. These notes are of extremely short duration and account for the chirping sounds made in pipe music. A correctly played grace note is a crisp sound and adds character to the note it precedes or follows, a grace note played incorrectly distracts and lessens the note it supports. Single grace notes can be mastered in fairly short order, but the more complicated movements, such as a “throw on D” require a quick succession of grace notes. And herein lays the most confounding and frustrating part of the instrument. The harder one concentrates on completing the movements, the more difficult and cumbersome the movements become. Needless to say, concentration will only carry the novice so far. What is needed is the development of “memory” in the affected fingers. Nothing will suffice but repeated drill, providing the digits with opportunity to develop the memories. Still, I had to contend with the interruption of breathing. One company, an electronics manufacturer, sells an electronic practice chanter. It looks like an old transistor radio mounted on a stick, but makes a pleasing sound and has allowed me to practice tunes without the interruption of breathing or the added complication of bag and drones – drones are provided electronically. It is not as pleasing as the sound of reeds in a real bagpipe, but has become an invaluable practice tool.
If you talk to a piper, they will tell you it is foolish to try and do this alone. Well, I guess that makes me a fool. If you are serious, you need to join a band. There you will have ample instruction and practice, goals set by impending performances and the camaraderie of fellow pipers. But with all these benefits come a commitment for time and money. A decade spent in the Marines has given me a phobia about joining organizations, and the requirements for a uniform was a real deal-breaker. A typical band will appear and perform at functions and parades, but it is important to look as good as you can play. The garb for such an appearance includes, but is not limited to, the kilt, knee socks and shoes that look like they belong on a golf course. The plaid of the kilt makes the average bagpipe band resemble a nightmarish image of Catholic schoolgirls on parade. Add to this ensemble some sort of head gear, traditional dagger, and any number of other accoutrements and accessories and you have a significant wardrobe investment. I have spent enough time in uniform to know that one does not don such an outfit without wearing it properly. A simple desire to learn an instrument has now taken on all the complications of joining a secretive religious order.
So, a few years later, I foolishly pursue this ambition alone. I will never have adequate talent or proficiency to play in a band or appear in public, but that was not the point of this whole exercise. The results with the Ross electronic chanter were so encouraging that this past year I took the plunge and purchased a set of practice pipes. It has a smaller bag, only two drones, and is not quite as hungry for breath as the great highland pipes (nor as loud) but I really feel like I am making progress. This also brought to light a second assumption I had made about the pipes – they do not need to be tuned. Past experiences with the guitar showed me that I have a tin ear and could not tune anything more complicated than a TV or radio. It turns out that the pipes need to be tuned. The chanter is tuned by means of screwing the reed down into or up out of the chanter. The drones are tuned by means of lengthening or shortening the barrels of the drones. I have actually gained some facility with this operation and can tune the practice pipes in my own haphazard way. I still sound gawd-awful on it. With luck and practice, in another year I should be to the point of playing recognizable tunes without drawing small arms fire. Someday I may even feel confident enough to purchase a full set of highland pipes. I will then be able to inflict my musical ambitions on the fauna and flora of our little hollow.
If you should find yourself in Perry County around sunset and hear the sound poultry in grave distress, please don’t turn out the dogs of discharge any firearms in the direction of the sound; it is only me, inflicting the world with my delusions of grandeur. Just turn up the TV, tell the dogs to stop howling, and indulge me in this vanity – that’s not too much to ask of a neighbor, is it? As for me, I will continue plodding along, trying not to disturb my neighbors and hoping for progress, no matter how slight. The last time I heard a band practice was in an old VFW hall in South Bend. The pipers were playing tunes in an enclosed room in preparation for an upcoming parade. The best location from which to hear pipes playing is at least 50 feet distant, but the enclosed room in the hall made this impossible. My ears were ringing for the remainder of the week, but the music was wonderful. Hopefully the distant listener will be fooled by the echoes of our hollow and occasionally pick out the melody.
A friend of mine, no small musical talent in his own right, once described bagpipe music as being very similar to the sound 4 cats would make while being slowly crushed. Others have described it as a number of geese being strangled. Oscar Wilde, on hearing a bagpipe, was heard to remark “Thank goodness there isn’t an odor too!” Tradition has it that the Irish gave the bagpipe to the Scotts as a joke, but the Scotts never got the joke. Nobody seems to be able to take or leave bagpipe music; you either hate it or love it. The English outlawed the playing of bagpipes, not as a matter of musical taste, but as a means of subjugating the Scotts; bagpipes were considered an instrument of war. There is speculation that a bagpipe-type instrument was played in Egypt, and that the Romans used the bagpipe with their infantry. Many countries of the world have a folk instrument that meets all the requirements of a bagpipe; in Spain it is called the Gaita, a Baghet in Italy and Musette in France. Pakistan is one of the most prolific manufacturers of highland bagpipes in the world.
The Great Highland Bagpipe, the variety played by the Scotts, *consists of a bag, which is a storage chamber for breath; three pipes, called drones, that play a continuous A note; a blow pipe, through which breath is added to the bag; and a chanter with holes, on which the melody is played. A practice chanter, used to learn the fingering of melodies for the bagpipe, is just the chanter and blowpipe without the added complications of bag and drones. The scale of the bagpipe consists of nine notes, ranged from low G up through high A; an octave and a note. How much trouble can a fellow get into with only nine notes? The limited scale does much in explaining the simplicity and monotony of bagpipe music to most of its critics.
The actual noise-maker in the bagpipe is by means of reeds, thin strips made from a variety of materials, traditionally cane, that vibrate when air passes by. Reeds are commonly found in harmonicas and the mouthpieces of saxophones, clarinets and other more common instruments. The bagpipes are a continuous-sound instrument; while being played there is always sound coming out of them. Think about the significance of that. There is no such thing as a rest in bagpipe music. In the hands of a skilled piper, the A notes of the melody can disappear into the drones, giving the impression of a rest in the melody, but this is an illusion. Because the reeds are far removed from the mouthpiece, unlike the clarinet or saxophone which can be manipulated by the tongue or lips, it is also continuous volume – no crescendo, no diminuendo – no emphasis by volume. Emphasis, rather, is by means of embellishments of notes – grace notes, rolls, throws, burls, etc.
One day, many years after meeting the novice piper in North Carolina, I found myself with a lot of time on my hands and thought I’d look into learning the pipes. Being alive during a time of technical innovation has its benefits; the internet put me in touch with a number of vendors only too happy to unleash another beginner on the world with a practice chanter. I purchased one and busily set about learning to play. Armed with my chanter, I was choking a single goose. The fingering was difficult in the beginning, and I was impatient to acquire enough skill to play a recognizable tune. It has been on-again off-again for a number of years now. I was fortunate enough to find a piper that spent some time with me in the beginning; I got a good start on reading music, beats, and some technique. The sound of the chanter was far from pleasing, though. With diligent practice, honking away, I mastered these nine notes and hit my next obstacle with learning the embellishments.
Most children in grade school learn about musical beats and the different types of note duration – whole notes, half notes, quarter notes, etc. A grace note is part of the emphasis the instrument uses and appears in music as a 32nd note. These notes are of extremely short duration and account for the chirping sounds made in pipe music. A correctly played grace note is a crisp sound and adds character to the note it precedes or follows, a grace note played incorrectly distracts and lessens the note it supports. Single grace notes can be mastered in fairly short order, but the more complicated movements, such as a “throw on D” require a quick succession of grace notes. And herein lays the most confounding and frustrating part of the instrument. The harder one concentrates on completing the movements, the more difficult and cumbersome the movements become. Needless to say, concentration will only carry the novice so far. What is needed is the development of “memory” in the affected fingers. Nothing will suffice but repeated drill, providing the digits with opportunity to develop the memories. Still, I had to contend with the interruption of breathing. One company, an electronics manufacturer, sells an electronic practice chanter. It looks like an old transistor radio mounted on a stick, but makes a pleasing sound and has allowed me to practice tunes without the interruption of breathing or the added complication of bag and drones – drones are provided electronically. It is not as pleasing as the sound of reeds in a real bagpipe, but has become an invaluable practice tool.
If you talk to a piper, they will tell you it is foolish to try and do this alone. Well, I guess that makes me a fool. If you are serious, you need to join a band. There you will have ample instruction and practice, goals set by impending performances and the camaraderie of fellow pipers. But with all these benefits come a commitment for time and money. A decade spent in the Marines has given me a phobia about joining organizations, and the requirements for a uniform was a real deal-breaker. A typical band will appear and perform at functions and parades, but it is important to look as good as you can play. The garb for such an appearance includes, but is not limited to, the kilt, knee socks and shoes that look like they belong on a golf course. The plaid of the kilt makes the average bagpipe band resemble a nightmarish image of Catholic schoolgirls on parade. Add to this ensemble some sort of head gear, traditional dagger, and any number of other accoutrements and accessories and you have a significant wardrobe investment. I have spent enough time in uniform to know that one does not don such an outfit without wearing it properly. A simple desire to learn an instrument has now taken on all the complications of joining a secretive religious order.
So, a few years later, I foolishly pursue this ambition alone. I will never have adequate talent or proficiency to play in a band or appear in public, but that was not the point of this whole exercise. The results with the Ross electronic chanter were so encouraging that this past year I took the plunge and purchased a set of practice pipes. It has a smaller bag, only two drones, and is not quite as hungry for breath as the great highland pipes (nor as loud) but I really feel like I am making progress. This also brought to light a second assumption I had made about the pipes – they do not need to be tuned. Past experiences with the guitar showed me that I have a tin ear and could not tune anything more complicated than a TV or radio. It turns out that the pipes need to be tuned. The chanter is tuned by means of screwing the reed down into or up out of the chanter. The drones are tuned by means of lengthening or shortening the barrels of the drones. I have actually gained some facility with this operation and can tune the practice pipes in my own haphazard way. I still sound gawd-awful on it. With luck and practice, in another year I should be to the point of playing recognizable tunes without drawing small arms fire. Someday I may even feel confident enough to purchase a full set of highland pipes. I will then be able to inflict my musical ambitions on the fauna and flora of our little hollow.
If you should find yourself in Perry County around sunset and hear the sound poultry in grave distress, please don’t turn out the dogs of discharge any firearms in the direction of the sound; it is only me, inflicting the world with my delusions of grandeur. Just turn up the TV, tell the dogs to stop howling, and indulge me in this vanity – that’s not too much to ask of a neighbor, is it? As for me, I will continue plodding along, trying not to disturb my neighbors and hoping for progress, no matter how slight. The last time I heard a band practice was in an old VFW hall in South Bend. The pipers were playing tunes in an enclosed room in preparation for an upcoming parade. The best location from which to hear pipes playing is at least 50 feet distant, but the enclosed room in the hall made this impossible. My ears were ringing for the remainder of the week, but the music was wonderful. Hopefully the distant listener will be fooled by the echoes of our hollow and occasionally pick out the melody.