Liner Notes for "Stepping on the Bridge", by Hamish Moore May 1994

 I suppose the seeds of this album were sown in 1987 when I first heard Buddy MacMaster and Maybelle Chisholm playing at a music festival in Philadelphia.  I remember well hearing the strains of this joyous, exciting music from afar and being physically drawn to it.  What I heard was old Scottish music played with a rhythm, tension and wildness that I had never before experienced, and what excited me most were the strathspeys.

 I have continued over the years to listen to as many Cape Breton musicians as possible.  In the summer of 1993, I was invited by Sam MacPhee to teach small-pipes at the Gaelic College in Cape Breton.  It was there and at house parties at the MacDonalds and the MacNeils and at the dance at Glencoe Mills, that I saw and heard it all in context.   Cape Breton is an isolated island on the Atlantic coast of Canada and part of the province of Nova Scotia.  During the late 18th and early 19th centuries it is estimated that some 30,000 Scots, the majority Gaelic-speaking, settled in Cape Breton.  With them they brought their Gaelic language and culture.  A very important part of this culture was the step-dancing, the piping, the fiddling and the song.  

 Although the majority of settlers in Cape Breton Island were Scots, there are many different ethnic groups contributing to the island's population.  Most fiddlers have a distinctively Scottish style although there are some who play with an Irish flavour.  There are even Micmacs who play great Scottish reels, fiddlers from the French community such as Arthur Muse who is a brilliant player of strathspeys and wonderful players and contemporary composers like Jerry Holland whose style although influenced by Scottish and Irish music is individualistic and very much his own.  

 Coming to Cape Breton as a modern Scottish piper, the players with the very distinctively Scottish style interested me most.  I am a Scot with one Irish and three Scottish grandparents and I love Irish music.  I have been very aware over the years of the constant comparison throughout the world between Scottish and Irish music, the latter always being thought of as more powerful and somehow 'better,' so it was with a growing sense of relief and pride that I came to the realisation that old Scottish music, the repertoire and the style it was played in, was every bit as good as Irish music.  

 There are several reasons why the style of some Cape Breton fiddlers is thought to be fairly authentically 18th century Highland.  

 In many cases the people playing this music are only two or three generations removed from an early Scottish settler, their grandparents or great-grandparents coming from Uist, Barra, Strathpeffer, or Sutherland.  

 The learning of the tunes and style was in many cases by ear and example.  

 Tunes were also learned from books and it was common practice to insist that the old repertoire was played exactly as was written in the book.  When Dan R.  MacDonald visited Scotland, he made one of the largest personal collections of Scottish music.  This collection is now in the hands of Alex Francis Mackay.  

 Many of the early Scottish settlers lived and worked in small tight-knit communities.  

 The most important factor however in the preservation of the old Scottish style of playing is the continuation of step-dancing, since it dictates the tempo and rhythm.   But what of Scotland? Many Cape Bretoners are disappointed when first visiting Scotland and hearing Scottish music as it is played today, and many Scots are positively shocked when first hearing the old Cape Breton style, thinking that it is somehow corrupting 'our good Scottish music'! The reasons are understandable.  

 If the style in Cape Breton amongst some communities has remained largely unchanged, this has not been the case in Scotland.  We need only look at the social and political history of the country and its direct effect on the culture--Culloden and the Act of Proscription; the Highland Clearances; the Church who were responsible for burning vast numbers of fiddles; the enormous influence of fiddlers such as Scott Skinner; the Victorianisation of Scotland; the gradual loss of step-dancing and the succussive waves of English and European fashion in dancing e.g.  country dancing; the overwhelming influence which competition and the army had on piping.  The list is by no means complete but serves as an example of some of the relevant factors.  

 Although marches, slow airs and hornpipes are played in Cape Breton, the strathspey, the reel and the jig are by far the most popular.  This is the dance music.  The step-dancing was taken to Cape Breton by the early settlers from Scotland.  I think of it as a very sophisticated form of pedal percussion, tapping out the rhythms of the tunes with the feet while standing up.  Quite the most natural thing in the world to do when good, rhythmic music is heard.  The step-dancing and the music are inseparable--almost anywhere in Cape Breton where there is music there is also dance.  In Scotland, there are many people who remember their parents or grand-parents step-dancing, and there are even some women who learnt to step-dance as children.  They have confirmed that the strathspey and reel steps danced in Cape Breton are exactly the same as those they learnt in Scotland.  

 Step-dancing in Scotland took place in the smallest kitchens, in the halls, on the bridges and at the crossroas.  The steps were derived from the old Scotch Reels which were danced all over Scotland in the 18th century and earlier, in both strathspey and reel tempo.  When we lost the step-dancing, we lost the need to play the music as it is played at the dances in Glencoe Mills in Inverness County in Cape Breton today.  In particular we lost the old way of playing the strathspey, or the strathspey reel, as they were known.  Most of these old strathspeys have very primitive melodies, the tune being dependent on the rhythm.  If the rhythm is taken away, there is very little left.  There is a vast repertoire of old strathspeys with this inherend step-dancing rhythm e.g.  Bogan Lochan, Lucy Campbell, Tulloch Gorm and Callum Crubach to name but a few.  These tunes require this rhythm to survive.  

 Another factor however which makes Cape Breton music so distinctive today is the unique piano style.  Before pianos were introduced to Cape Breton the accompaniment to the music was the rhythm of the stepping feet.  The Cape Breton style of piano playing has developed directly from the rhythm of the steps and has evolved into a sophisticated chordal and rhythmic accompaniment.  A typical dance in Cape Breton will have one fiddler and one pianist providing the music.  

 So far I have made very little reference to the pipes.  There were however many pipers amongst the early settlers and they took with them the old piping styles from Scotland, very different from the modern 'traditional' style, which has developed since the beginning of the 19th century.  (Refer to Barry Shears' book, The Gathering of the Clans, Volume I, for detailed information on the early pipers going to Cape Breton).  This old style of playing was based on rhythm and not on technique.  Barry Shears quotes from C.H.  Farnham's 'Cape Breton Folk' published in Harper's New Monthly magazine in 1885: 'The dancing went on vigorously...  The most impressive figure of all was the piper...  One of the pipers, a very tall very dark, very shaggy man, sat straight up with a rigid neck, stiff figure, puffed out cheeks, and looked like the presiding genius of some awful heathen rite.'

 Many of the early pipers also played the fiddle and I am sure that their piping style would have been influenced by their fiddle-playing and vice-versa.  The old piping style can be heard so obviously in many present day fiddlers, most notably Cameron Chisholm, Willie Kennedy and Joe Peter MacLean.  For me, this was confirmed when in 1991, Barry Shears sent me tapes of Joe Hughie MacIntyre and Angus Beaton playing at a dance in 1967.  At that time Joe Hughie was 75 years old and Angus 72.  In 1993, John MacLean took me to visit his great-uncle, Alex Currie.  He is thought of as one of the best dance pipers to have lived and played in Nova Scotia.   Both from listening to Alex playing in his home and from tapes of him playing twenty years ago, I can confirm this.  

 There are several facts about Alex and his family which are not just intriguing but crucial in the proof that dance styles existed and flourished in Scotland prior to the military and competitive influences which were imposed on piping.  Alex Currie's grandfather came from Uist and arrived in Cape Breton in 1820 at which time there would have been no military influences on piping in a place as isolated as Uist.  The family settled in an area of Cape Breton which was isolated.  Alex's playing was learned from his mother and grandfather and in fact he could sing literally hundreds of pipe tunes before he took up the practice chanter.  

 One of the most important and interesting parts of Alex's playing is his method of beating time: for strathspeys - left and right heels alternatively - 8 beats to the bar; for reels - left heel on the first (on) beat of the bar, right toe on the 1/2 (off) beat, right heel on the 3/4 beat.  This cycle is then repeated with the left heel on the 2nd beat of the bar.  This system of beating time was brought from Scotland by Alex's family and passed down to him via his mother and grandfather.   The traditional style of playing in fact bears little resemblance to its modern counterpart which has evolved since the start of the 19th century, based on the standardised piping of the army and the very rigid and technically correct playing of the solo competitive piper.  Competitions have in fact encouraged technical correctness to the detriment of musicality.   In conclusion, much can be said of the music of Cape Breton, about how close Buddy MacMaster's style is to Niel Gow's or Cameron Chisholm's to a West Highland fiddler of the eighteenth century.  The arguments will go on eternally, but I am satisfied if we can say no more than:

 There existed in Scotland one of the richest and most exciting music and dance cultures in the world.  

 The old reels, which included step-dancing, were danced throughout the whole of Scotland and are thought to be the only truly indigenous dance form.  

 The style of playing the reel, the jig and in particular the strathspey in Cape Breton today, is basically the same as it was in Scotland in the eighteenth century and before.  

 Piping was in Scotland, prior to the British Army recruiting the Highland regiments and the advent of competition, wild and vigoros with individual styles existing.   I am grateful that Cape Breton exists and has preserved and held our music and dance culture in trust.  In the words of Maire O'Keeffe, "The first time I came to Cape Breton, I though I'd died and arrived in heaven!"

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An Interview with Allan MacDonald on the Gaelic Roots of Piping

 There are few people in the piping world who haven't heard of the MacDonalds from Glenuig.  Allan and his two brothers, Dr.  Angus and Iain have been at the forefront of change in the piping tradition and have been active in the folk circuit, Iain playing with bands such as Ossain and the Battlefield Band.  Allan has been a player and a teacher of piping for many years and is often asked to lecture on and demonstrate piping traditions.  He has also worked as a musical producer for Gaelic television programs and has provided research and original music for both radio and television.  His latest effort was an hour-long Gaelic New Year's Eve program for the Scottish and Grampian television networks.  He holds a BSc and is presently completing a second Masters degree - this time at the School of Scottish Studies.  His thesis is on the connection between Gaelic song and ṕobaireachd.  Mike Kennedy of Prince Edward Island talked to Allan in his Edinburgh home about his musical background and his views on the piping tradition.

 Mike Kennedy: Allan, tell me a little bit about your upbringing.

 Allan MacDonald: I was raised along the west coast of the Highlands in Glenuig, Moidart in the late 50's and early 60's.

 M.K: What was Glenuig like at that time?  A.MD: Glenuig was a small, isolated, Gaelic-speaking crofting community of 40-50 people.  It was accessible only by boat.  Most of the people by my time worked for the estate.  My father worked independently as the ferryman on an eight-mile, loch three days a week.  The community was in decline, there being no other Gaelic- speaking families the same age as ourselves.  The other families were incomers employed by the estate.

 M.K: What was the social life like?  A.MD: It was pretty quiet.  Our social life revolved around the home and an occasional Cèilidh Dance in Glenuig Hall which no longer stands.  These were uncommon; maybe two or three times a year since the people had to walk 5 miles one way -- over the hill from Kinlochmoidart - or 8 miles from the other direction, Lochailort.  A local dance band of fiddlers and an accordionist would play for the dancing.  These were not the traditional set dances characterized by the step-dancing, which has left us for Cape Breton, but the newly fashioned dances like the Quardrille, Eightsome Reel, Strip the Willow, and other Scottish Country Dances. My father sang and played the melodian and people would congregate at our house after the dance until daybreak when they would either take the boat or walk home.  I remember being given a mouth organ at one of these sessions when I was five years old as I peered through the door at what was going on.  That was my first instrument and kept me entertained for a few years.

 M.K: Was that when you started school? A.MD: I attended Glenuig School from the age of four to nine.  The number of pupils dwindled to two by 1965.  We had no Gaelic or music in school -- the teacher thought Gaelic was barbaric -- but I used to play the mouth organ to and from school.  We listened to Gaelic songs and piping on the wireless (radio) at night.  We didn't get electricity or TV until 1979 -- although we got a road in 1968.

 M.K: How were you introduced to piping?  A.MD: There were more fiddlers than pipers in the area; but there were a couple of pipers from Acharacle who would occasionally visit.  There was also a piper, Peter Pern, who stayed with us a for a while -- fishing and working with my father.  He used to play to us at night before we went to sleep.  That is my earliest recollection of piping.

 M.K: You also had a strong tradition of piping in your family, didn't you?  A.MD: Well, strong in as much as my uncle on my mother's side, Angus MacKay of Kilphedir, South Uist was a piper.  I never met him, though.  He was killed while a piper at Dunkirk in the Second World War.  My mother's first cousin, Donald Morrison of South Uist, was a greatly respected piper.  On my father's side is a third cousin, Angus MacDonald and ex-piper of the Scots Guards.

 M.K: Music figured fairly prominently in Glenuig social life but you left that environment as a young age.

 A.MD: Yes, we boarded at school in the Lowlands, Queen Victoria School Dunblane, when we reached the age of nine.  It was very foreign to us and was for the sons of those who had done National Service and were in a disadvantaged situation like shifting from one military base to another or staying in a place like Glenuig! The nearest secondary school to Glenuig was in Fort William - 40 miles away, so we could have boarded there.  The main benefit of going to Dunblane in retrospect, was that they taught piping.  Angus was there before and Iain followed me.  It was quite a culture shock.  I stayed there until 17 when I left for Aberdeen university.

 M.K: So you developed your piping at Dunblane?  A.MD: It was compulsory to attend dancing, drumming or piping.  This was obviously an easy choice for me.  I started playing chanter in earnest at age nine, taught by John MacKenzie from Campbeltown an ex-Argylls pipe major. There was a school pipe band and I competed around the local Highland games during the summer holidays from about the age of 11.

 M.K: What were your musical influences while at Dunblane school?  A.MD: My instructor at first but I suppose I was influenced mostly by my cousin Angus MacDonald (mentioned earlier) in the early stages.  I suppose ease of playing, control and musical taste were the salient features.  My only contact with Gaeldom was through Gaelic radio programs.

 M.K: You've said something about your own musical and community background - can you tell us a bit about the background of piping?  A.MD: The pipes, of course, are indigenous, in one form or another, to numerous countries around the world.  After the harp players in Scotland lost their patronage during the late 17th and early 18th centuries the pipers took their place - albeit in a different context.  This was not mutually exclusive, though, and I think there was a two-way influence which pipers have tended to ignore.  The terminology of much of ṕobaireachd is to be found with the clarsach and you only have to listen to some of the complicated movements on the wire-strung clarsach to be reminded of the crùludh of ṕobaireachd.  It's only natural for a musician to try to imitate the sounds of one type of instrument on another.

 M.K: What type of music was played?  A.MD: Two terms of convenience are used today by Gaelic speakers to broadly categorize pipe music.  These are "ceol ṃr" and "ceol beag" literally "big music" and "small music." Nowadays, most people use the generic term for piping "ṕobaireachd" or its anglicized form "pibroch" - to apply to ceol ṃr.  The implication is that the different types of ṕobaireachd or ceol ṃr have a sameness about them that allows them to be grouped under one heading.  This is very misleading.  Fortunately, sufficient musical insight existed to recognize the variety inherent in the ceol beag tradition and English terms have been used to distinguish between slow airs, marches, strathspeys, jigs reels and so on.  But the ceol ṃr tradition which has as much rhythmical variety as the ceol beag tradition has been misunderstood. The ṕobaireachd "rlar," or "theme," shares similar characteristics of performance style with much of Gaelic song, most particularly with regard to rhythm.  Of course there is a whole range of rhythms and tempos in both idioms which have unfortunately been lost in ṕobaireachd.  What I have done in my research is to reconcile some of the Gaelic songs with their ṕobaireachd "rlar" forms.  By doing so I have shown that the Gaelic language rhythms have been dispensed with and that an "Art Music" has been created as a result.  I have been constantly searching for more evidence, although I have more than enough already to prove conclusively that "modern" or 20th century competition ṕobaireachd performance has been divorced from Gaelic tradition.  Alexander Carmicheal, of Carmina Gadelica fame, wrote of a man in Barra who was teeming with songs which were associated with ṕobaireachd.  Of course, attitudes to Gaelic at the end of the last century were worse than they are now and so it all went to the grave.

 M.K: You say the rhythmical complexities of the music are not well understood today.  What happened to obscure such an essential feature of the music?  A.MD: The decline of Gaelic society and its language.  Piping was an expression of a much wider culture and developed to suit standards set within the Gaelic community.  Ṕobaireachd was a functional music and obviously had specific tunes for specific functions.  This changed after the end of proscription in 1782 following the disaster of Culloden.  (Bagpipes, Highland dress and weapons were proscribed after Culloden even among Clans who had fought on behalf of the Hanoverians) I suppose that James MacPherson's Ossian had a part to play in the new attitudes British society adopted towards the "savage" Gaels who could now be found in the ballrooms of Edinburgh.  It was in this atmosphere that piping competitions originated, beginning with the Falkirk Tryst in 1781.  As part of the policy of ethnocide adopted by the British government following Culloden, the cultural standards of Anglo-British society were being imposed on the Highlands and on piping.  The emergence of a new middle-class in Edinburgh and London with roots in the Gaidhealtachd meant that a bit of their culture could be taken with them, provide it was first made "respectable" to the Europeans.  This taming of the peasant music to suit the new sophisticated classes was happening across Europe at the time. Stendhal, a French philosopher and music critic, stated that: "Men of letters are always ready to consider the privilege of criticizing the arts and music as a legitimate appendage to their professional titles." When the Highland Society of Scotland initiated the first piping competition in 1781 - to be held every 3 years after that - their judges were very much in this mould.  Although some spoke Gaelic, they were chosen for their position in Anglo Society not because of their position in Gaelic society and knowledge of that tradition.  Pipers played to artificial standards set by people who didn't really understand their tradition.

M.K: What impact did these non-Gaelic standards have on piping?  A.MD: the main impact was on rhythm. The Highland Societies of London and Scotland paid people to notate music "scientifically." This involved notating the music within bar lines in time signature of 3/4, 6/8 etc., which of course implies predictable measured times.  The problem is that genuine Gaelic music does not conform to strict measured time and so much of Gaelic song is in unmeasured time -- frequently moving from one to the other with ease.  Music was passed on through the oral tradition of "canntaireachd," for example, but a system of written musical notation wasn't and still isn't sophisticated enough to deal with songs based on language rhythm.  Bartok and others have written about this in their own traditions.  It's nothing new.  The problem is that since the earliest attempts at notating ceol ṃr, Gaelic oral tradition has declined greatly.  The sad situation is that Gaelic speaking pipers have somehow accepted this performance style as a representation of their own tradition.  Years of this sort of patronage and misrepresentation has changed it in many cases out of recognition.

 M.K: That sounds similar to an experience Kitty MacLeod had with the influence of the National Gaelic Mod.

 A.MD: Yes, this is the parallel that what is believed to be the genuine ceol ṃr tradition has with the Gaelic song tradition.  The National Gaelic Mod was started in 1892, I think, to promote "Gaelic music" but imposed foreign standards - strict measured time, harmonic choral arrangements and operatic singing styles unknown in the Highlands as well as attracting and patronizing a few "improvers" who would make the melodies and poetry more "respectable" and romantic. When Kitty MacLeod, a traditional singer from Lewis sang on stage in Glasgow around the time of the last war, singing in the traditional way rather than the Mod way, an acrimonious letter appeared in the press from a prominent Gael complaining about her dreadful style of singing.  So, if the Mod could convince people in 50 years that this was not their tradition, it was easy for the Highland Societies and all other patronizers of piping to do the same in the 200 years they had!  Mike Kennedy: It must be inherently difficult to demonstrate this problem in writing but could you give a rough example of how changing rhythm changes the character of the tune.

 Allan MacDonald: Yes it is difficult.  These differences can only be really effectively communicated orally and aurally but one good example of what happens to the internal rhythm of a tune which has gone from Gaelic onto the pipes and fiddle is "Màiri's Wedding." If we listen to the syllabic pulse which comes from the words in Gaelic:

Morag bheag nigheann

Murchaidh an t-saoir

'S aotrom a dh'fhalbh i, 's aotrom

a dh'fhablh I

'S aotrom a dh'fhalbh i a pḥsadh

 If we allocate the line (--) for the longer stress and a (v) for a shorter one we have:

Morag bheag nighean Mhurchaidh an t-saoir

---- v ----- v v v v v v -----

 hereas the English version goes:

Step we gaily on we go

--- v --- v --- v ---

 This gives your a different rhythm which is comparatively bland and regular.  The impact on ceol ṃr is far more dramatic since it has been stylised so much and made into "art music." But one can intuitively find a rhythm even without the words.

 M.K: Were there any objections to the standards which were being imposed on piping?  A.MD: Yes, at the end of the last century there were grumblings from the backwaters.  Johnny Johnstone of Coll was quite vociferous.  The only evidence we have of his style is to be found in the Clan MacLean collection of ṕobaireachd published in the 1930s, I think.  It has been conveniently ignored.  George Moss was another who had some of it traditionally and attempted to clear up the picture by analysis.  However, strangely enough, no one from the Gaelic tradition has ever attempted to place ceol ṃr in its proper context -- within the idiom of the Gaelic language.

 M.K: Why do you think more people didn't speak out.

 A.MD: Gaelic society was decimated after Culloden.  It considered its own language and tradition inferior - a situation which the 1872 Education Act exacerbated.  (In this, Gaelic was ignored not just by parliament but by the Scottish Education Department.  As far as these two bodies were concerned it did not exist).  It has continued to look outside itself for role models.  There's still a severe lack of insecurity problem with the Gaels.  Instead of showing the rest of society that we have a rich musical tradition, we concern ourselves with convincing our Saxon neighbours that we can be just like them.  We can sing our songs in Country and Western Style, too...we can make Soap Operas,...we can have a Gaelic opera." Sorry, I am digressing into Gaelic television but the point holds. We do not say: "We have something unique and different which you cannot find anywhere else.  Listen to it on its own terms." That's partly what ceol ṃr became a "classical music".  I don't know who it was who defined the classical style as one "where the listener is always waiting for the tune to break out!" That's modern ṕobaireachd.

 M.K: When did you start to become aware that there was a problem in the piping tradition?  A.MD: After I left school I became critical and dismissive of ṕobaireachd but I didn't know why.  It just didn't strike a chord with me.  No one could explain why it was played this or that way and it was a case of take it or leave it.  Any serious challenge was met with the response that some guru played it that way, handed down in apostolic succession from the MacCrimmons! Of course, considering the fact that it takes some people weeks to learn a single tune, no one could explain how such dolorous, non-rhythmic material could ever have been successfully passed down in the oral tradition.  Ceol beag has also changed dramatically and become standardized through competition.  I became disenchanted with the competition scene when I was 19 after attended the Northern Meeting Piping Competitions -- the premier piping event.  Of course, one can choose to completely ignore the competition system, like my younger brother Iain who plays with the Battlefield Band, but opportunities to perform are subsequently limited.

 M.K: Yet you continued to compete, having won the Gold medal at the Northern Meeting in 1994 etc. Why did you participate in a competition scene which you feel represents a phoney tradition?  A.MD: Simply because you wouldn't be heard otherwise.  You have to demonstrate that you can play what they want to hear at any particular time.  Nor would anyone have much credence in what you had to say if you didn't play the game.

 M.K: You didn't let such frustration stop your piping though.

 A.MD: My brothers and I were inspired by the Chieftains and the Bothy Band in the early 70s and ultimately by the whole of the Irish traditional music scene.  They have managed to retain a freedom and openness which is certainly lacking in Scottish piping.  Initially I picked it up on the tin whistle and found the style suitable for pipes as well.  My brother Angus has just returned to Scotland after 11 years in Cape Breton where a similar open musical atmosphere still exists.  This has clearly impressed him.

 M.K: How did people react to the "new" piping style you were developing?  A.MD: The reaction was guarded for the most part, although musicians outside piping loved it. Many objected because they thought it was Irish, so when I played Highland tunes in the same style they thought the tunes were Irish as well.  Same language, same tradition, but different pipes.

 M.K: That objection sounds a bit ironic considering that Coun Douly Rankin was credited with establishing the first piping college in Scotland after training in Ireland.  Wasn't training in the Gaelic arts and learning carried out in common between the two countries?  A.MD: Yes.  Many of these critics knew nothing about the Gaelic traditions of Scotland which underlay piping.  They certainly won't learn it at school.

 M.K: What was different about the way you were playing?  A.MD: More gracings and open playing, that is fewer stressed notes, giving a strong internal rhythm. This gives tunes the illusion of a faster tempo.  Gracings also allowed us more improvisation on the basic tune. M.K.: If I didn't know better I'd guess you were describing Scottish Gaelic fiddling or as it usually referred to today -- Cape Breton fiddling.

 A.MD: Well, piping (or non-competitive piping) Gaelic singing and Cape Breton fiddling all come from the same culture and are built on the same foundations of Gaelic music and rhythm.

 M.K: Thou shalt not play too fast seems to be the 11th commandment for Scottish fiddling in Nova Scotia and PEI.

 A.MD: When I'm out of practice I can only play fast.  It tends to be out of control.  When you play slow in these situations its more erratic.  I know I'm playing well if I can play slowly and at a pace which sounds easy to play at.  I often think that if it sounds hard it is easy and if it sounds easier it is hard to achieve.  The subject of rhythm is one which many pipers don't seem to understand.  That sounds hellish bumptious of me! I gave a tape of Irish tunes to a Canadian band - the 78th Fraser Highlanders - in the late 70s, since the band I played with was too conservative.  The 78th made a good job of playing the material.  However, the knock-on was a disappointment with so many soloists and bands dabbling in the idiom, playing fast with no rhythmic subtleties. They obviously enjoyed it, though.

 M.K: Cape Breton fiddler, Carl MacKenzie, said he believed that learners should be taught to hear music before they learn to read it.  How would you teach a young piper to "hear" these rhythms?  A.MD: People have to learn to listen again.  We are constantly being bombarded by music of strict regular rhythm on radio and T.V.  I don't think we have anything near the listening capabilities of our grandparents who relied on memory skills developed through continuous sharing of traditional tales, poetry, and song.  It will take patient, intelligent listening.  It is crucial to remember that traditionally, Gaelic song rhythms were led by the language more than by the music.  Nowadays, music rhythms take precedence over the langauge.  Pipers who want to play ṕobaireachd in a traditional style might learn something from listening to good traditional Gaelic singers like Rev.  William Matheson who has recently released a collection of over 30 excellent songs with accompanying booklet for the School of Scottish Studies (Bards and Minstrels, available through Am Brighe.) Of course in Cape Breton you have the songs of people like Alec Gillis, Johnny Williams, Lauchie Dan MacLellan and so on.

 M.K: Very few pipers or fiddlers come from areas where Gaelic is still spoken or where the Gaelic song tradition is in robust condition. Does this mean then, that the music is doomed?  A.MD: Not if musicians make the effort to learn where the music comes from and what makes it work. If they don't it could result in musicians playing to the standards being dictated by a more powerful neighbouring culture.  If this happens the creative spark of Gaelic music could be snuffed out, leaving us with a fossilized tradition.

 M.K: Is the climate right for positive change?  A.MD: I believe so.  I am by no means the only person who has been raising questions about piping. Others have pointed to other styles of playing.  My principal concern right now is with ṕobaireachd.  I want to draw all the evidence together - to point back to Gaelic culture.  The picture has become quite distorted with the passage of time but if we go back and do some detective work I believe we will be able to rejuvenate our tradition and move forward.  All I am trying to do is bring ṕobaireachd back into the oral tradition again -- to give it back to musicians and people it came from.  I hope I am not too late.  I think that Bartok said about the peasant music of eastern Europe applies equally to our own traditional melodies: "they are models of the way in which a musical idea can be expressed with utmost perfection in terms of brevity of form and simplicity of means."

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