I was always a lazy bugger, and learning to play an instrument entails a lot of practice. So after learning a few chords on the guitar as a teenager, I decided and declared that I would never be a musician and gave it up as a bad job.
But when I retired 50 years later my world changed a bit. I am a South African by birth, but there was some Scottish blood in the ancestral line and we grew up in a household where a lot of Scottish music and poetry was heard. My dad played the bagpipes and so did my uncles, i.e. Dad’s brothers. We learned to love the Scottish culture and when I retired and finally had time to do these things, I joined the Caledonian society in Cape Town. They had a group of members who were being taught the chanter by the society’s honorary piper. I did not think I had a hope in hell of learning to play at 70 years old, but I joined the chanter group and have been attending lessons for 2 years now. One starts on the practice chanter, a small wind instrument that makes use of a plastic reed (two plastic blades vibrating against each other) to produce its characteristic but unusual sound. It has nine finger-holes on the pipe below the reed and when one blows air down the blowpipe end, it passes over and through the reed, sets it vibrating and produces musical notes. The distance from the reed to the open holes decided what pitch a note will have and it is possible to play musical scales up and down the chanter although the intervals between the notes are not the same as on modern instruments.
The practice chanter with its plastic reed can be played inside an apartment without disturbing the neighbours. That is why it is called a practice chanter. One problem with the practice chanter as a performing instrument though is that the musician cannot blow endlessly into the blow-stick without pausing for a quick breath. But the music does not usually allow for breathing stoppages so the effect on the listener is not very salutary. Another problem with the practice chanter is that it plays only single notes at any one time. Some notes are played very fast in quick sequences and this helps to make it more interesting but one cannot play chords on it. Both of these shortcomings are addressed to some degree by the addition to the chanter of a bag full of air and 3 other pipes that produce droning sounds at two different pitches. These harmonize with the chanter in different ways on different notes and make it sound much more colourful. So the whole ensemble resembles a sort of 5 armed octopus of quintopus if you prefer.
Here is a picture of yours truly with his brand new set of bagpipes trying to learn the not-easy technique of keeping the bag full of air, squeezing it under the arm with a constant pressure and actually trying to play a tune all at the same time. The actual full set of pipes does not use a plastic chanter reed as with the practice chanter. It uses a reed made, would you believe it, of a special type of reed (or cane). It makes an extremely loud sound which cannot be produced in an apartment without raising a lynch-mob, and in addition, the three drones all have reeds in them as well. The sound produced has a primal quality to it that would scare off most enemies, but it is balm to the Celtic soul.
How am I doing with my learning? Well it is conventional wisdom that it takes a young man with a good ear and attitude 7 years to learn the basics and he then enters a second seven year period in which he strives to become a master. I quote from the ‘Highland Bagpipe Tutor Student Manual’. “Actually, there is an old quotation that starts ‘To the make of a piper go seven years… At the end of his seven years one born to it will stand at the start of knowledge, and leaning a fond ear to the drone, he may have parley with old folks of old affairs.’ (Neil Munro from The Lost Pibroch 1896) This quote reflect not only a much earlier practice of several years of apprenticeship and indenture to learn the art, but also a contemporary reality.”
I started at 70 and had never previously shown any musical talent so let’s just say I am about where I probably should be. I have learned to read pipe sheet-music however and with a bit of practice each day, my teacher is happy with my progress. The main thing is that I really enjoy it and it adds meaning to the tapering down phase of a busy life.
One of my favourite pipe tunes goes by the name of “Black Bear”, so I have mischievously created the calling card below
So when I started to learn to play the bagpipes, the first thing I had to purchase was a practice chanter. The full set of bagpipes uses a hide or synthetic bag to provide a steady flow of air through the chanter and the drones. The drones are the three pipes that rest on the pipers shoulder and they just make different bass notes to support the chanter. The chanter itself though is the pipe with finger holes in it that makes the notes of the tune. Here is a photo of yours truly taken by my bagpipe teacher when I went for a lesson with my new pipes. There is a reed in the chanter that vibrates when a stream of air from the bag passes over and through it. But here’s the thing. A bagpipe chanter makes a heck of a loud sound (so,me would say noise), and so do the drones. If you practiced playing them in your apartment, some neighbour would sooner or later shoot you. So in modern times, the practice chanter was developed. It is similar to the actual chanter, but the reed is made of plastic and is relatively un-noisy. There is no bag so the air to sound the practice chanter is provided directly by the player blowing down a blow stick which is connected directly to the practice chanter.
So having set the scene, let’s get back to the title of this blog article, i.e. ‘Bamboos and boxes’.
Any musical instrument should be protected for transportation and since I had some bamboo lying around, I sawed off a length and used it to make a carrying case for my practice chanter. The cap and strap are made of leather. I thought it was quite arty looking and would be a convenient way of carrying the chanter around. Here is a picture of what I called ‘The Quiver’. It worked O.K. but it is quite a long and bulky object and I realised after a while that it was not very practical. So I made a container of a different design for the chanter. It is a little foam lined, hinged box with cutouts in the foam to cushion the chanter.
To transport the chanter in this box, one unplugs the blowstick from the lower part and stows them side by side. The reed has to be removed too because it would be too vulnerable if it was left protruding from the playing tube. The reed and also a couple of spare reeds get popped into a small plastic pill box with a desiccant to keep the reeds moisture free. Practice chanter reeds are made of plastic and don’t work well when wet. Real chanter reeds are made of special Indian reed and they have to be moist if they are to be coaxed into making any sounds at all.
If this were Zen I would ask the question, If bagpipes are played in a concrete room with nobody there to hear them, are they played?
Most people know that the bagpipes are a very loud instrument and any piper who lives in a built-up area has the problem of finding a place to practice that will not disturb the neighbours. I live in an apartment block and practicing the pipes inside the building is definitely a no-no. My cat would report me anyway. But luckily for me, there is a concrete room on the basement level of our block with no connection to the main buildings. The painters and maintenance men use as it a common room for their lockers, lunches etc. It can best be described as a bomb shelter or concrete bunker and when the maintenance staff knock-off work at 5 PM, nobody uses it. I have fast-talked my way into getting a set of keys for this room and that is where I will practice making my pipes produce music.
Here we are going down the driveway from the road to the under-building parking. Note the Red picket gate on left hand side away from building.
We have turned left off the driveway and are now facing the gate we saw in the previous picture. Note that it is not under the building at all.
Behind the gate is a small yard full of junk and the door of the piping room can be seen at the far end from the gate.
The room is a pigsty but who cares? It is large, 7m X 5 m and is full of sound absorbing junk so it does not echo.
As you can see it is a veritable concrete bunker. I will run there when the bombs start falling.
I have started increasing the lengths of my squawks on the bagpipes. From an initial, cat terrifying, three second skirl, I have managed to sustain a single note on the chanter, without drones, for almost a minute continuously. With the chanter corked and the three drones opened, I have been able to get all three drones to sound for quite a long time. I am learning that the piper does not so much squeeze the bag under his arm but rather holds the bag steadily under the arm and allows the expansion of his chest to compress the bag. This way, the pipe bag becomes a sort of extra lung. When the piper breathes in, his chest expands and compresses the bag making it play. Then as be exhales into the bag, the bag inflates again and his chest deflates. The theory is simple. Actually doing it is another thing altogether.
The exciting news for me is that I will be receiving my new (to me) set of bagpipes on Wednesday. But wait, that’s the end of the story, or of this installment of it anyhow. Let’s go back to the beginning.
I was born and grew up in South Africa but I had English and Scottish ancestors. Somehow I have always leaned more towards the Celtic culture. My parents used to bring home gramophone records like “Words and music of Scotland” by the likes of John Laurie & Kenneth McKellar. We played them a lot and as young people do, we learned all the words and the tunes and grew to love them. My father and his two brothers, (my uncles) all played the bagpipes and there was nothing we kids loved more than to sit on a moonlit beach and listen to the strains of the pipes carrying across the sea to us from where the brothers were playing. Later in life I visited Scotland many times. I would always just rent a car in Edinburgh and drive on over the Firth of Fourth bridge, up the East coast and then climb left into the highlands before following some other route back down past the lochs to Glasgow. I’ll talk about the West coast and the Hebrides om another occasion.
But despite this love of the pipes and Scottish culture, I never learned to play the instrument. I worked hard my whole life and I had a lot of interests, some of which may yet emerge on this blog. The years passed by and somehow I never found the time to actually start playing. I think I lived in awe of people who could actually play the pipes because I believed it to be a very difficult thing to do. Well, to cut a long story short, when I reached the tender age of 69 I was retired and I joined the Caledonian Society here in Cape Town. The honorary piper, Peter Odendal, was running a course for people who wanted to play the chanter and they asked if I would like to join the group. I told them that it would be impossible for a 70-year old with increasingly arthritic hands and a shrinking brain to even consider it but they insisted and I did join the group. It was such fun that I continued to go to the lessons every week. I never learned much in that group though because we were all beginners and everyone was squawking and battling along and collectively getting nowhere. After about a year though, the minister of the church we were practicing in, retired and the hall was no longer available. So our teacher who lives 60 km away from me in Somerset West made himself available for those who wanted to continue to come for individual lessons a couple of times each month. This worked very well for me and so now at age 72, I feel that I understand enough about the instrument to graduate to the next level of learning. I’m not getting younger so I have raised the money and bought a 30 year old set of Glasgow made, Hardie black-wood pipes through a contact. The pipes themselves are apparently in excellent nick although the bag and all the reeds need replacing. Well I swallowed hard, took out a loan and placed the order. Tonight I heard that my pipes have been fully refurbished and that they will b e handed to me when I attend a bagpipe recityal on Wednesday evening.
Watch this space because when I get my pipes I will surely post pictures of them here. I suspect it will be quite a while before I can actually blow the bag up and keep it blown up whist squeezing all that air out through the chanter and drones and then somehow still trying to remember the fingerings at the same time. But keep listening out, I may dump a sound recording onto this site at some time in the not too distant future.
Somewhere, sometime in history someone realized that if you tie the flat surfaces of two thin bits of reed together, put these blades between your lips, and blow, the reeds will vibrate and make a squawking sound.
At school we did the same thing with tissue paper over a comb. This principal was later embodied in many musical instruments to provide them with a voice. Clarinets and the like use just one flappy reed against a fixed lip-piece and other instruments use two flaps of reed which vibrate against each other. But the bagpipes are rather special. With other instruments you have to stop the music periodically to allow the musician to take a quick breath so he can go on playing without expiring. The bagpipes have a lung of their own. The bag is just that. It is an external lung which the player props in under his arm and squeezes steadily to provide the airflow needed to maintain the tune even whilst the music maker is taking in fresh air. He then blows more air into the bag through his blowpipe to keep it inflated. This is tricky to do in practice but when perfected it works very well. Actually, they discovered that it works so well that they could attach three more reeded pipes to the bag and get them all to sing in harmony. The piper can of course only play one tune at a time. So the reed instrument taht is being given voice by air from the bag, has a number of holes down its length to enable the piper to play different notes. This tube is called the chanter. The other three reeded pipes each simply sound off on a single monotonous note. They are called drones for obvious reasons. Two of them are tenor drones and they each produce a monotone which is exactly an octave below the ‘low-A’ note of the chanter. The third and longer, bass drone produces a note that is yet another octave lower. For those not musically informed, two notes an octave apart will be in perfect harmony. For each flap of the reed in the lower tuned pipe, the reed in the shorter pipe will flap twice. The combined tone we then hear is acoustically interesting because we can hear that the two notes are very different but the combination pleases us because they beat in time with each other. To understand a similar thing in the visual world, imagine the following. Two soldiers march side by side. They move forward at the same speed but one takes two short paces for each long pace that the other takes. Their movements are patently different but they are clearly still in step. They can be said to be synchronized, or in harmony. More on bagpipes at another time.