Not playing

I feel I ought to be playing lots this week: making the most of Morag. But then, it's not as if Morag is going anywhere, unless I take her back to her maker to check for leaks and get the wavery drone looked at. I also feel I should be playing lots to improve my playing, to get it up to the required level to suit such a set of pipes as the Monkey. But then, that would mean asking Mr Kinnear to hang on to the Monkey for years until I'm good and ready.

I should be playing, but there were seedlings to pot up and seeds and sow this evening, now there is knitting to be done and perhaps some letters to write. I should be playing, but I'm not.

Nailed it!

OK - finally - the holy grail: two tunes, three times through each, back to back, without dots, with a reasonable level of accuracy and fluency. It is, of course, The Rowan Tree and The Barren Rocks of Aden.

It is far from perfect because the speed comes and goes during the Tree where I am busy trying to remember what the fan has said about timing. Gracing is a little hit and miss because my fingers are cold (but some of those Gs sound good, don't they?) Some of the speeding up is panic as I can see the connector tube slowly pulling out of place and am hoping it will stay put for long enough for me to complete the set. During the Rocks my fingers run away in places, gabbling notes out, slurring them together, and I think (I've not listened carefully yet) that I've done too many repeats of the first A part and may have miscounted repeats elsewhere as well.

So - what should my next goal be, I wonder?

Blast - and now I see I've done this before!! But this is better, better on the Rocks, anyway. Much. But how slowly I progress.


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Guilt trip

A week today I''ll be on the final leg of a journey that began last spring, driving from Perth to Edzell to collect the Monkey. Part of me is very excited about this, although the excitement is, as so often when you've waited for so long for something, tempered by doubt. Suppose the Monkey is no easier to play, sounds no better than Morag? Suppose at a session someone says to me "where are your other pipes? I really like them"? It'll be fine, it'll be fine.

Then there's the guilt. Poor Morag. After all she's done for me over the last 18 months and all I've done is whinge and moan and blame her for my shortcomings, and now I feel I am going to abandon her. When I got my previous car I had already cried for weeks about losing the old one; picking up my most recent car I was so excited when I saw her parked outside the showroom that I didn't give the old one a second glance. It feels as though it would be cruel to abandon Morag, and yet, I'm not abandoning her. It's less (I try to tell myself) like buying cars and more like buying boots. It's always exciting to fall in love with a brand new pair of boots, and to be able to wear them out and about and have people admire them - lovely new boots! - but the old favourites are always there in the wardrobe, boots that have been worn, cherished and loved for five, seven or more years (one elderly and decrepit pair I've had for 16 years, and shabby as they are I still wear them from time to time, and love them dearly).

So I must try to stop feeling guilty about Morag and concentrate on looking forward to the Monkey and the next era of my piping life.

Down the drain

I fiddled around with the bigger recorder again this evening. Several checks with the fan to work out which random button to press when. Fouled up several goes at Flett, but then managed to bag the Tree, twice over (I think - I lost count) plus the Rocks (twice only, because I didn't want to push my luck). Then the fan came to show me how to master the track down and...not a sausage. Apparently there was an extra button to hit before I hit record, so all effort was wasted. I think I'll be going back to the small recorder, uploading to the fan's PC (because my laptop really prefers not to speak to it), and probably then emailing it to myself so I can put it into Chirbit from my laptop.

I saw someone from the Foresters session at work today, and they kindly said I had improved. I don't know that I'm any better a player, it's just that my stage fright is abating and my repertoire increasing. Very recently I felt how nice it was to have a bigger repertoire to be able to have a choice of things to play at a session, but I do feel some new tunes would be nice. (I'm listening to Tryst and being reminded of how lovely the Boy's Lament is). However, I don't want my "old" tunes to fall into desuetude, as they seem to, all too quickly. So this evening I've played sets where possible (Galloway/Teribus and Tree/Rocks), some tunes I've played three times through (Home) and others I've just scooted through once to keep them going (Banks, Castle, King, Waterloo). Mysteriously, Home and the King, are now both note perfect, and the odd bars which I've had a total blank on of late just reappearing.

Still airflow problems. Some of it is too much bellows action, but I know I'm not being too slack on the bag arm because my muscles ache.

The toad work

The brain is a wonderful thing. Having wasted 10 hours of my life today working and getting to and from work, I then proceded to think about work, which made me grouchy and disinclined to do anything else. After a cup of tea and a chocolate brownie I decided to fight back, refuse to let work take over my entire life, and got Morag out. The grouchiness slipped over into my piping: too much pressure on my right thumb (ouch), too much air going through (too much bellows-action needed), drones too loud...

As so often happens as I played on things got better, work was driven out of my mind, I concentrated on playing. I notice that the the tunes I can play well are the tunes I have played lot recently. The problem is that the tunes I played a lot a little while ago and haven't played so much of late quickly become tunes I struggle to get right, so the Rocks are doing quite nicely now, but the King is rather shambolic. I can't play everything often all the time: apart from anything else, as my repertoire increases there simply won't be enough hours in the day (see above re time wasting).

I had to think hard just to recall which tunes I know: played pretty much everything, I think, except the much-neglected Highlanders. I also forget the coaching that the fan did with me recently on timing on the Rowan Tree. It's one-two-three-PLAY, not one-two-three-and-try-to-remember-if-you're-on-the-A-or-B-part-and-how-does-that-start-breathe-and-PLAY. Also persistently playing a run in note against the As in Teribus in the B part, and it's just because I've got into the habit and because the G makes the chanter easier to hold than flipping straight into A.

Did I mention...two weeks today I'll have my Monkey. Musical excitement all round as the fan is expecting his new mandolin to arrive from Somerset on Wednesday.

Counting down

I've not played since Tuesday, and I ought to be practising, getting myself ready for the Monkey. Two weeks today I'll be collecting him. In fact, by this time I will have the Monkey and will be sat in a hotel room with nowhere to play him, and will be longing for Monday so I can bring him home.

Nurse Morag

Another headache, and remembering my recent experience I thought I'd try the pipes cure. Just thinking about playing made me feel a little happier, and by the time I was strapped in and ready to go the headache was already lifting. Blasted through the Battle a few times, still feeling tired, but went on (in between a spot of cooking) to Flett (I meant to play Galloway, but my fingers had other plans) and the Rocks (three times through, no problem) and felt altogether better.

Mooching about on The Session the other day I found an interesting discussion that went well with what I was thinking the other day about tunes, and why some attract and others don't. This discussion asked why some continue to attract, some we fall out of love with, and others we just need a break from to rekindle the romance.

Sort of bagpipes

We arrived early at the session, which was fun. I played Rowan Tree as a warm up, just to test the drones were in tune. The fan and the fiddler from the band played around a bit, then I tried Teribus. People started to arrive - although not too many - and I played a few more tunes as the evening wore on: My Home Town, The Rowan Tree (again), Flett from Flotta, The March of the King of Laoise. Not too bad: no tune abandoned, but none note perfect. I lost my place during Home, managed to come in again, but then missed out an A part. The King was a little wobbly, but I was sat next to a man who plays at a Scottish session so was worried he'd actually know my tunes and therefore spot all my mistakes. He didn't join in with the King so either didn't know it, was too busy listening and admiring to play, or was praying that he would be struck deaf and not have to hear a mangled note more.

The usual audience participation: I was asked if Morag was a bit like bagpipes. They were standing away from my bellows side and hadn't worked out how I was managing to play without blowing. Later I had a classic session experience, as described on The Session, with a very happy member of the public asking if we could play The Wild Rover. Luckily a singer could oblige and the musicians pitched in and everyone was happy.

What I've been doing at sessions so far is waiting for permission to play, or a request to play. This is partly because I know I'm interrupting the flow: that I'm about to play (not very well) a tune that no one will know, no one will accompany (although the fan, the fiddle player and others are starting to join in), and I feel as though I'm holding things up while I'm indulged. The problem with waiting to be invited is that I risk feeling hyped by people calling for a tune, being caught on the hop, not even sure which tune to play, and with Morag still on my lap. Better, I find, to just go for it: to get the bag and bellows connected and to pick a tune while everyone is playing, and then, as soon as they pause for breath, dive in.

Still a small amount of nerves: my left hand goes a bit wobbly, but on the whole I'm getting better at playing at sessions, and am quite glad that I've got repertoire enough that I'm not just having to play the same two tunes each time.

Only two weeks until I collect the Monkey...

Whinge

I've not had a whinge for a while, and mostly the whinge is, once again, about recording. Well, a small amount might be about my playing (tunes that I know that I know that somehow I nevertheless keeping making a hash of; connector tube flipping out - too much hemp means it won't sit in well, and if it does it's too tight to move so the other end comes adrift instead; stacks of constant air through the bellows needed to keep the drones going).

I thought I'd try recording direct to Chirbit. It's nice and easy to do, but the sound quality is awful. The fan says this will be down to the soundcard on my laptop. It sounds like an electric keyboard on "smallpipe" mode, recorded at the bottom of a tank full of water.

So then I tried the other recorder. This plugs in to the mains, so no worrying abut batteries or booting up my laptop. That's the good news. The bad news is that you have to assign channels, set the balance and levels and give your track a name before you can even hit the record button. I'm told I can then chop up bits out of a long recording, but how easy that is or how easy it will be to transfer it form the machine to my laptop and here, via Chirbit, I know not. What I couldn't manage was a half decent shot at any tune at all. So the recording is the Chirbit direct one, which I thought was nice and lively but has, as so often, come out as a dirge - slow as you like, and hesitant to boot.

Playing Flett mostly. Hopeful that I might manage it at the session at the weekend to give a bit of variety. Failed to append the Rocks to the Tree or Teribus to Galloway today. Only a so-so attempt at the King. Waterloo coming on OK, I think, yes, just about OK.


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What's the attraction?

Why is it, I wonder, that some tunes take my fancy and others don’t? For pipe music, especially, there are only nine notes, and it’s generally a march, a reel, a strathspey or an air, perhaps. The marches can be faster or slower, and a tune can have more or less accompaniment, but some leap off a CD, often on the strength of a single phrase, whereas others just don’t.

 

Some tunes, having thus leapt out at me, I struggle and tussle with, until what looked like being the start of a beautiful relationship ends with ill grace and bad temper. Some tunes I work on, and after a while, we find we rub along together just fine. Some tunes you take little notice of the first time you meet – the King was like this. It was one of Mr Kinnear’s tunes of the month, but I wasn’t that taken with it. Somehow it took hearing the Sea Stallions playing it to make me know it was a tune I wanted.

 

Musical blind dates don’t seem to work out at all for me: I’ve tried with a number of tunes that the fan has suggested, but somehow never quite hit it off with them. The exception is perhaps the Battle. When the fan has recommended it in the past, I’ve not been keen (those triple A’s!), but then hearing the band play it I find it has grown on me, so I’ve picked it up now of my own accord.

 

Sometimes I think familiarity helps. I've been listening to Seudan in the car and really enjoying the piece at the end of track 10. I keep forgetting to check to see what it is. Today I finally had a look, ad it turns out to be The Portree Men, also played by Mr MacInnes.

 

No pipes tonight as it is, of course, band night.

Quick and easy

Back in the days before I was a piper I always felt that I want an instrument that was quick and easy. Whistles and recorders, for all their faults, can be whipped out with no notice and played upon at once. My violin (and it was a violin, not a fiddle, as I was taught - or bullied and demoralised - in the classical tradition) had to come out of its case, have the rest attached, it had to be tuned, the bow tightened and rosin applied...it all felt like a palaver.

Now, you'd think the pipes would be just as bad. I have to remember where I left them, get them out of the case, strap on the bellows, strap on the pipes, tune the drones; but somehow it doesn't take very long and it doesn't matter. What I would like now is some gadget that sets up to record instantly without me having to find batteries with more than 5 minutes' life left, or fire up the laptop and find the connector leads, and, and, and... If this marvellous gadget could record everything and just let me snip out the section I wanted at the end that would be great.

Because I didn't bother with recording this evening I can't share what is probably my first ever go at getting twice through the Tree and then twice through the Rocks. Also on the menu this evening, Galloway and Teribus, Flett, the King and the Whistle. Oh, and the Banks of Allen.

Battling on

Working on Waterloo. I have it pretty much by heart. I don't always get the end of each part for some reason. Timing at the end of parts isn't great - partly down to hesitation. There are spots - the odd bar here and there - when I go too fast. I also have great difficulty remembering how many times I've been round on a part, especially the A, and I think that's because the two bits of the A are basically almost identical, and the same as half of the B part. (The fan agrees that it's easily done with this tune). I'm occasionally catching the bottom of my chanter against my knee and blocking it. Oh - still playing GDG on my AAA, I think. I muck up a chunk of the B several times on this recording, but it's one of those that is less technically accurate but more musically pleasing than other efforts I made.

I'm with dots again on this one. To be honest I don't think I'm actually reading them - they're just background.

Still putting a lot of air through. Even with the bellows strap round my middle as tight as it will go it's dropping down and smacking on my hip bone. It also sounds very loud this evening. In fact it's almost as hard work as listening to The Archers, which is a real moan fest at present, with everyone lurching from one personal crisis to another.


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Making matters worse

Yesterday evening I got out the hemp and scissors and blocks of wood and went about a bit of maintenance. The bass drone is a pain to collapse now - and it has to collapse to fit in the case. And then, naturally, tuning the darned thing is now also a trial of strength.

I also have to report that it has made no difference at all for Morag's insatiable thirst for air, and it seems to have transformed the middle drone's voice from a wavery whine to a whisper: it sounds like a rather small and elderly animal breathing its last.

Still, the Battle is coming on nicely, the King is easy enough when I'm not busy being star struck, Teribus is doable when I'm not asleep on my feet, and I even managed a run through of the Atholl Highlanders (three parts only).

I'm trying to decide what my first tune with the Monkey will be... It's like the fabled first dance at a wedding. I need to get it right.

The fan (or, more accurately, the band) is now on Facebook.

Disaster

Ok, maybe not a disaster, just a minor setback, but it felt like a disaster when I heard. Due to the Easter holiday the engraver (the person engraving beautiful Celtic knots on  the Monkey’s ferules) hasn’t been able to finish in time for Mr Kinnear to complete the pipes between now and next week when I was scheduled to go up. I’m now hoping to go for the May Day Bank Holiday weekend, which is just over a month away.

In the meantime someone I know from the Forrester’s session has written a tune that he thinks would sound particularly nice if Morag played it. He has heard Morag, and clearly admires her, which is nice, but his tune contains three unplayable notes as far as Morag is concerned. Only two will be unplayable by the Monkey... I need to play around with it and see what Morag can do.