It's about one-thirty and I'm beyond making sense. You have been warned.
I returned to Colorado after travelling for three weeks in Ireland and England and expected to find very little there, which had more or less been the state of affairs since I returned home from college. It has not been a very good time. But even when everything really sucks, unexpected and serendipitous things can still happen. I found another piper playing at my regular session who I had not even realized was in town before I had left the country. We became friends (piper solidarity) and often spent late nights teaching each other tunes and technique. He hasn't much more experience than I have, but he knows different tunes and different technique, so he has been able to teach me quite a lot. And when everything looks pretty bleak, it is a source of light to play tunes with someone else and make that connection.
Unfortunately, he is returning to Canada at the end of the month. Making connections and then suffering them to be ripped apart is the story of my life right now, probably a familiar story for a lot of twenty-somethings who are in an unstable stage in their lives, moving around, graduating from one place, going to another. My boyfriend is in England, all my good college friends are on the East Coast. In a few weeks, my pipering friend will be back in Canada. Yet the music gives us a connection that cannot be broken by distance or even time. There were a few sets of tunes we always played together, both in the session and in the apartment, and they will always be "our" tunes. Wherever he is, wherever I am, we will play those tunes and share them with others, and each time we play, we will be connected to each other and to everyone else, living and dead, who played those tunes and taught them to the people who taught us. Isn't that the meaning of the tradition? Because somewhere in the grimy early Twentieth Century American cities, Patsy Touhey and Michael Coleman played those tunes. All across Ireland Seamus Ennis and Willie Clancy and Johnny Doran and countless others played those tunes. All over the world, hundreds of musicians play those tunes in smoky pubs and well-lit living rooms and kitchens and on the streets. And in a small Boulder apartment, two young pipers with not more than three years experience between them shared those tunes. As long as we can play the music and understand its richness, we will not be sundered even though we will not be able to delight the Boulder session with more piping duets. Those timeless and cherished connections, I think, are at the heart of the tradition.
Yes - it's comforting and comfortable that your piping is a link with absent friends and a contact for new ones as you move about. The stability thing happens later.
For others it might be a different thing - a sport or some other activity. (I guess even bodhran players are capable of making friends with someone.)
My daughter is at that "unstable twenty something" stage just now - and my role is to always be there, always be the same old Dad, so there is some stable background for her to go out from - but all the other parts of her life she has to work out for herself, just as you are doing.
We'll play a tune just for you at our sesh tomorrow.
That's a lovely piece of writing. Perhaps you could only have written it in the wee small hours, rather than in the cold light of day?
There is nothing - nothing - that brings two or more people together in that undefinable special way like playing music together. I think this is true to an extent of all types of music (international language, and all that).
But traditional music, of whatever tradition, seems to work at the deepest, almost cellular, level. I sometimes feel sorry (though I wouldn't say it) for the masses who can't/don't do what we can do, share what we can share.
I don't think most of us realise this at first; we're simply attracted by the music. But then one day something will happen: an epiphany, a crisis, a deep and meaningful moment or whatever; something will happen and we are changed by the music forever. We make connections, we make new friends - friends can leave us but the music still connects us, even though we're apart.
I've been through this, and I'll bet good money that many others on this site have been through this too. Those who are ONLY driven by the music haven't been through it yet. But they will.
You see TheSilverSpear (or may I call you The it's shortly after midday here (I'm off work following a sinus operation, OUCH!). Do you see? I'm able to write or talk about these feelings any time of day now, and now you've experienced the beautiful pain and been healed by our music, you will be too.
Your piper friend leaving was one of the best things that could have happened to you.
Why do so many folks keep changing their names here?
Sometimes I get so confused, I even begin to wonder sometimes if it's really me that's actually writing here, & I have to go & check the mirror, or look at the name tag that Mrs Pt. kindly sews onto the collar of my shirts!
Oh yeah, nice story TSS, but way too syrupy for my taste! Let's face it, it wouldn't make a very good movie script now would it? I mean, where's the humour, the shoot-em-up gratuitous violence, the X Cert mad passionate crazy secks scene? I'd say, back to the drawing board & give us some real 'blood & guts' reality! Even a punch up in the bar would have been something, with a few chairs thrown around for good measure & the odd smashed Guinness Mirror & maybe even a spilled Pint or two of Guinness for us to weap over!
Before the hijacking and messing about starts could people not appreciate the original post for what it was. A very moving beautifully written personal account which gets really to the heart of what it is to play music.
By all means act the goat if you want. But do it on other threads. I would really like to hear what other people feel about the original post. The only reason I haven't posted my own thoughts is that Silver Spear has written so eloquently I have nothing to add. I wish I had written it myself.
The one thing I will say is that a lot of people feel like you do at that stage of life. Be confident. You will be happy.
______________
I don't think most of us realise this at first; we're simply attracted by the music. But then one day something will happen: an epiphany, a crisis, a deep and meaningful moment or whatever; something will happen and we are changed by the music forever. We make connections, we make new friends - friends can leave us but the music still connects us, even though we're apart.
_________________
My "epiphany" happened over the summer. . . I saw Margaret Bennett perform several times. For those unfamiliar with her, she is from Skye and sings traditional Scots Gaelic songs. My earliest training in trad music came in the form of GHB playing. Anyways, Margaret's singing is essentially the same type of music as Pibroch, which I had learned decades earlier. Hearing her voice was a timewarp. . . connecting me both ealier points in my own life and to a very old tradition of music from the Isles. The experience affected me more strongly and deeply than any other music has before or since. It's hard to explain, but the quoted comment above captures what happened to me.
SilverSpear's heartfelt and candid story rings true to me as well. The older you get (I'm not a geriatric yet, but I play one in the mornings), the more you cherish those threads in your life that are first spun and then woven together through the music. Certain tunes will always mean certain people and places to me, so the tunes in my head are like a family. Play them, and connections come alive again.
Hi Silver,
Thanks for a lovely thread. I think all of us have known such times in our lives, not necessarily in youth; a year and a half ago at age 43, for instance, I relocated (for health reasons) 600 miles away from almost all of my family and friends. My husband and I were able to land soft, though, through a couple of good friends and their local music scene. We were welcomed to a house session that has been going on in one form or another for quite a few years. The folks in that session, most of whom have been friends for some 3 decades, weave a lot of unbreakable connections through their music. Several of the former regulars have moved to other parts of the country, but are kept in everyone's memory through the music they loved to share with those who remain. It's common for some absent friend's favorite tune to be preceded by someone saying, "I talked to so-and-so last night" --- and inevitably instruments are lifted, and music that everyone associates with that old friend begins. The sense of family and community is warm, strong, and bright.
Well, as a some time and self-proclaimed curmudgeon ...
"... each time we play, we will be connected to each other and to everyone else, living and dead, who played those tunes and taught them to the people who taught us. Isn't that the meaning of the tradition?"
Sure feels like it
"We make connections, we make new friends - friends can leave us but the music still connects us, even though we're apart."
My life's been in the lost and found over the last year or so, and this music and the people I've met through it have got me through those bad times, have lifted me up, have given me faith in myself. I've made some lifelong friends who I know would do anything for me. I guess this discussion is as good a place as any to thank all of them, because most of them at least lurk here. And some of them I owe debts of gratitude they may not even be aware of, but I could never repay.
This is a very nice thread and I thank you for it TheSilverSpear. I am fortunate that I am still able to meet up with people that I have played with over the past 30 years. But some have moved away. I played with a piper for many years who moved to Cork in the late 80s. I always think of him as my best teacher. Most everything I learned about this music I learned from him. And when I play the tunes he and I played together, the connection is remade. I don't see him as much as I would like to but through the music, he is always close by in my mind.
Nice sentiments SilverSpear, again demonstrating that when people go beyond listening to music (which is where most of our culture is stuck these days), and begin to SHARE and PARTICIPATE in music, something magical happens. And I, for one, am glad to be a part of it.
Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
It's about one-thirty and I'm beyond making sense. You have been warned.
I returned to Colorado after travelling for three weeks in Ireland and England and expected to find very little there, which had more or less been the state of affairs since I returned home from college. It has not been a very good time. But even when everything really sucks, unexpected and serendipitous things can still happen. I found another piper playing at my regular session who I had not even realized was in town before I had left the country. We became friends (piper solidarity) and often spent late nights teaching each other tunes and technique. He hasn't much more experience than I have, but he knows different tunes and different technique, so he has been able to teach me quite a lot. And when everything looks pretty bleak, it is a source of light to play tunes with someone else and make that connection.
Unfortunately, he is returning to Canada at the end of the month. Making connections and then suffering them to be ripped apart is the story of my life right now, probably a familiar story for a lot of twenty-somethings who are in an unstable stage in their lives, moving around, graduating from one place, going to another. My boyfriend is in England, all my good college friends are on the East Coast. In a few weeks, my pipering friend will be back in Canada. Yet the music gives us a connection that cannot be broken by distance or even time. There were a few sets of tunes we always played together, both in the session and in the apartment, and they will always be "our" tunes. Wherever he is, wherever I am, we will play those tunes and share them with others, and each time we play, we will be connected to each other and to everyone else, living and dead, who played those tunes and taught them to the people who taught us. Isn't that the meaning of the tradition? Because somewhere in the grimy early Twentieth Century American cities, Patsy Touhey and Michael Coleman played those tunes. All across Ireland Seamus Ennis and Willie Clancy and Johnny Doran and countless others played those tunes. All over the world, hundreds of musicians play those tunes in smoky pubs and well-lit living rooms and kitchens and on the streets. And in a small Boulder apartment, two young pipers with not more than three years experience between them shared those tunes. As long as we can play the music and understand its richness, we will not be sundered even though we will not be able to delight the Boulder session with more piping duets. Those timeless and cherished connections, I think, are at the heart of the tradition.
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by DrSilverSpear
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
SilverSpear, that was very moving and a great description of friendship and the musical connections we make through time. Wonderful.
Thanks for the new moniker Dow.
Sally.
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by Judge Judy
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
Thats kind of nice Silver.
Yes - it's comforting and comfortable that your piping is a link with absent friends and a contact for new ones as you move about. The stability thing happens later.
For others it might be a different thing - a sport or some other activity. (I guess even bodhran players are capable of making friends with someone.)
My daughter is at that "unstable twenty something" stage just now - and my role is to always be there, always be the same old Dad, so there is some stable background for her to go out from - but all the other parts of her life she has to work out for herself, just as you are doing.
We'll play a tune just for you at our sesh tomorrow.
Big Hug - (purely platonic, you understand).
Dave
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by showaddydadito
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
That's a lovely piece of writing. Perhaps you could only have written it in the wee small hours, rather than in the cold light of day?
it's shortly after midday here (I'm off work following a sinus operation, OUCH!). Do you see? I'm able to write or talk about these feelings any time of day now, and now you've experienced the beautiful pain and been healed by our music, you will be too.
There is nothing - nothing - that brings two or more people together in that undefinable special way like playing music together. I think this is true to an extent of all types of music (international language, and all that).
But traditional music, of whatever tradition, seems to work at the deepest, almost cellular, level. I sometimes feel sorry (though I wouldn't say it) for the masses who can't/don't do what we can do, share what we can share.
I don't think most of us realise this at first; we're simply attracted by the music. But then one day something will happen: an epiphany, a crisis, a deep and meaningful moment or whatever; something will happen and we are changed by the music forever. We make connections, we make new friends - friends can leave us but the music still connects us, even though we're apart.
I've been through this, and I'll bet good money that many others on this site have been through this too. Those who are ONLY driven by the music haven't been through it yet. But they will.
You see TheSilverSpear (or may I call you The
Your piper friend leaving was one of the best things that could have happened to you.
Love and peace
Gordon
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by Gords
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
What everyone else has said. Really true and beautiful.
Thank you for writing it.
Siochain leat
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by Pól
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
Why do so many folks keep changing their names here?
Sometimes I get so confused, I even begin to wonder sometimes if it's really me that's actually writing here, & I have to go & check the mirror, or look at the name tag that Mrs Pt. kindly sews onto the collar of my shirts!
Oh yeah, nice story TSS, but way too syrupy for my taste! Let's face it, it wouldn't make a very good movie script now would it? I mean, where's the humour, the shoot-em-up gratuitous violence, the X Cert mad passionate crazy secks scene? I'd say, back to the drawing board & give us some real 'blood & guts' reality! Even a punch up in the bar would have been something, with a few chairs thrown around for good measure & the odd smashed Guinness Mirror & maybe even a spilled Pint or two of Guinness for us to weap over!
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by Ptarmigan
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
That is, apart from Ptarmigan's comments
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by Pól
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
Ouch!!! Spilled Guinness... That hurted!!
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by jorge o'lochlainn
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
Now hang on.
Before the hijacking and messing about starts could people not appreciate the original post for what it was. A very moving beautifully written personal account which gets really to the heart of what it is to play music.
By all means act the goat if you want. But do it on other threads. I would really like to hear what other people feel about the original post. The only reason I haven't posted my own thoughts is that Silver Spear has written so eloquently I have nothing to add. I wish I had written it myself.
The one thing I will say is that a lot of people feel like you do at that stage of life. Be confident. You will be happy.
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by Pól
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
______________
I don't think most of us realise this at first; we're simply attracted by the music. But then one day something will happen: an epiphany, a crisis, a deep and meaningful moment or whatever; something will happen and we are changed by the music forever. We make connections, we make new friends - friends can leave us but the music still connects us, even though we're apart.
_________________
My "epiphany" happened over the summer. . . I saw Margaret Bennett perform several times. For those unfamiliar with her, she is from Skye and sings traditional Scots Gaelic songs. My earliest training in trad music came in the form of GHB playing. Anyways, Margaret's singing is essentially the same type of music as Pibroch, which I had learned decades earlier. Hearing her voice was a timewarp. . . connecting me both ealier points in my own life and to a very old tradition of music from the Isles. The experience affected me more strongly and deeply than any other music has before or since. It's hard to explain, but the quoted comment above captures what happened to me.
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by wormdiet
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
SilverSpear's heartfelt and candid story rings true to me as well. The older you get (I'm not a geriatric yet, but I play one in the mornings), the more you cherish those threads in your life that are first spun and then woven together through the music. Certain tunes will always mean certain people and places to me, so the tunes in my head are like a family. Play them, and connections come alive again.
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by Will Harmon
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
Hi Silver,
Thanks for a lovely thread. I think all of us have known such times in our lives, not necessarily in youth; a year and a half ago at age 43, for instance, I relocated (for health reasons) 600 miles away from almost all of my family and friends. My husband and I were able to land soft, though, through a couple of good friends and their local music scene. We were welcomed to a house session that has been going on in one form or another for quite a few years. The folks in that session, most of whom have been friends for some 3 decades, weave a lot of unbreakable connections through their music. Several of the former regulars have moved to other parts of the country, but are kept in everyone's memory through the music they loved to share with those who remain. It's common for some absent friend's favorite tune to be preceded by someone saying, "I talked to so-and-so last night" --- and inevitably instruments are lifted, and music that everyone associates with that old friend begins. The sense of family and community is warm, strong, and bright.
Hang onto your insight, Silver. It's a gift.
# Posted on December 1st 2005 by sara g
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
Well, as a some time and self-proclaimed curmudgeon ...
"... each time we play, we will be connected to each other and to everyone else, living and dead, who played those tunes and taught them to the people who taught us. Isn't that the meaning of the tradition?"
Sure feels like it
"We make connections, we make new friends - friends can leave us but the music still connects us, even though we're apart."
My life's been in the lost and found over the last year or so, and this music and the people I've met through it have got me through those bad times, have lifted me up, have given me faith in myself. I've made some lifelong friends who I know would do anything for me. I guess this discussion is as good a place as any to thank all of them, because most of them at least lurk here. And some of them I owe debts of gratitude they may not even be aware of, but I could never repay.
# Posted on December 2nd 2005 by Just a person
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
This is a very nice thread and I thank you for it TheSilverSpear. I am fortunate that I am still able to meet up with people that I have played with over the past 30 years. But some have moved away. I played with a piper for many years who moved to Cork in the late 80s. I always think of him as my best teacher. Most everything I learned about this music I learned from him. And when I play the tunes he and I played together, the connection is remade. I don't see him as much as I would like to but through the music, he is always close by in my mind.
Thanks again. Very nice.
# Posted on December 2nd 2005 by John Culhane
Re: Late Night Ramblings on the Tradition
Nice sentiments SilverSpear, again demonstrating that when people go beyond listening to music (which is where most of our culture is stuck these days), and begin to SHARE and PARTICIPATE in music, something magical happens. And I, for one, am glad to be a part of it.
# Posted on December 2nd 2005 by AlBrown