New takes on dry stone walls

Dry stone wall in England

A musician acquaintance has written some music and painted scenes to celebrate a very long (22 miles) dry stone wall in northern England. I never thought of walls and music together, but these are exceptionally poignant. "Wall to Wall" is the name of an exhibition of music and paintings by Martin Matthews. On his website, the paintings are accompanied by a couple of music tracks by himself playing northern-style tunes on the banjo that can be run while gazing at the picture. What a delight!

Dry stone walls are a feature of the English countryside. Once they are built, they tend to stay put forever for two reasons. Because dry stone walls are a product of clearing rocky ground that cannot be farmed, they tend to enclose pasture for sheep. Unlike fertile crop fields surrounded by hedgerows, stone walls are not destroyed to enlarge the fields; hundreds of miles of hedgerows have been lost to such "efficiency" enlargements.

Secondly, it takes a long process of natural invasion by plant life to deconstruct a well built wall; and then one is left with a pile of rocks in the landscape instead. It is sobering to think that most of the 250,000 miles of dry stone walls in Britain are at least 200 years old, and some date back to the Neolithic, 5500 years ago.

So now you've read this far thinking, "what is a dry stone wall?". A very complicated structure indeed that takes knowledge to build and to maintain. The Guardian ran an article on dry stone walling where an expert explains exactly how to build one. It is one of the traditional crafts of the countryside, along with roof thatching, hedge laying, blacksmithing, stonemasonry – what The Guardian calls "disappearing acts". The video accompanying the article has drawn a number of interesting comments. You can learn a lot from these resources and even find out how to attend courses and become a dry waller.

In closing, take a look at this new version of a dry stone wall. Now, if this isn't ingenious, I don't know what is!

New-style dry stone wall for a bike shed in Cambridge

Update on Chewing Gum: songs, even!

Suddenly within the last couple of weeks, new posters have appeared on the underground tube stations ('subways' to all you out there). They show a woman holding a gymnastic flying pose, and if you bother to read the small print, there is an admonishment not to throw your chewing gum on the street but to "bin it", i.e. throw it in the dustbin. Given the woman's pose, this doesn't have anything to do with the upcoming Olympics, does it??

As I've written before, London pavements ('sidewalks' to you) are spotted, dotted, spectacularly decorated with coin-like splotches of discarded gum. If you've ever noticed at cinemas or when travelling, kiosks in those facilities don't sell gum – presumably because it ends up stuck under seats and elsewhere. (This is the sort of vandalism that caused Singapore to ban chewing gum.)

There is a great song out there called "Chewing Gum", recorded by the Carter family around 1930 as well as the New Lost City Ramblers ca. 1960. The song is about falling in love and getting married; only one verse, in addition to the chorus, mentions gum, though:

Chewing Gum
(Carter Family)

Mama sent me to the spring, she told me not to stay
I fell in love with a pretty little girl, and could not get away

    Chawin' chewing gum, chewing chawin' gum
    Chawin' chewing gum, chewing chawin' gum

First she give me peaches, next she give me pears
Next she give me fifty cents, kissed me on the stairs

Mommy don't 'low me to whistle, poppy don't 'low me to sing
They don't 'low me to marry, I'll marry just the same

I wouldn't have a lawyer, I'll tell you the reason why
Every time he opens his mouth he tells a great big lie

I wouldn't have a doctor, I'll tell you the reason why
He rides all over the country and makes the people die

I wouldn't have a farmer, I'll tell you the reason why
Because he has so plenty to eat, 'specially pumpkin pie

I took my girl to church last night.  How do you reckon she done?
She walked right up in the preacher's face and chewed her chewing gum 

Lyrics courtesy of GED on TraditionalMusic; other listings can be found on LyricsVault or OldieLyrics, and a classic performance by Johnny Cash (and Other) on YouTube.
Uncle Bailey George gives a different rendition on ReverbNation, "Chewing Gum" by Annie on YouTube, "Chewing Chewing Gum" sung by the Super Furry Animals with some pretty vapid lyrics, and of course the old favorite, "Does your chewing gum lose its flavor on the bedpost overnight" (three renditions on YouTube).

Who woulda thunk it, songs about gum...

'Morning Doves' Duo

The 'Morning Doves' at the
Shakespeare's Head, Islington

Two young women are making the rounds of pubs and clubs in London, singing guitar-accompanied harmony in beautiful, interesting voices. They visited the Shakespeare's Head in Islington Sunday night and sang a couple of songs in the Old Timey music session. I asked if they were singing professionally and they said they're just starting out, calling themselves the Morning Doves. This is a duo to keep your eyes and ears out for!

I should have asked them more questions about who they are because when I got home to google them, I couldn't find them anywhere online (definitely spelling themselves 'morning', not 'mourning'). If anyone has more information, please let me know!

SOAS has a ceilidh band!

SOAS, the School of Oriental and African Music at the University of London, focusses its research and teaching on Africa and Asia.* Big surprise. Diaspora countries also come into focus, such as Black African communities in the Caribbean. This is particularly evident in the activities of the Music Department, recently rated the best ethnomusicology programme in the country. And it's not just British students wanting to learn about these other countries but many foreign students coming to learn about their own or other Asian and African countries.

SOAS regularly runs concerts of ethno-music, usually by visiting musicians but sometimes by their own members. A World Music Summer School is also offered (sign up now!) for learning these various music traditions. However, Ireland and Irish music are not on the agenda.

SOAS ceilidh band in action (before the trombone joined in)

So how did SOAS end up with a ceilidh (pronounced 'kay-lee') band? Ceilidhs are an Irish phenomenon that have been taken up with gusto in the university community here. The Durham University Folk Society has a ceilidh band and periodically runs ceilidhs in the Student Union building. But Irish, and British folk music in general, is so far from the remit of SOAS that it seems incongruous, but not unwelcome.

Teaching the dance moves at the SOAS ceilidh

For those of you who don't know, ceilidh dances are line dances (like the "Virginia Reel", often done at ceilidhs), square dances (like country western square dancing), circles or sets. The moves are called by a caller, and each dance can be accompanied by a set of two to four tunes played by the band. Students who play in ceilidh bands are often classically trained and then get into folk music at university; others come out of folk-music families who participate from birth. (They are really hard for beginners like me to compete with.)

So the band existence can be explained to some extent by previous exposure unrelated to what the students are studying; and besides, many band members aren't SOAS students anyway. But what about the dancers? When I was at university (granted, it was a long time ago), square and line dancing were really 'square', and you'd have to go to special folk nights to participate. That attitude is not found here. The SOAS band played squashed into the SOAS bar, where tables had to be removed and drinkers shooed into other corners. But everyone enthusiastically clapped after our first tune.

Granted, not too many people got up to dance, and by our accounting, many of the dancers were also not SOAS students – or else, they were SOAS students from foreign countries. One of the latter for sure was having a great time, he told me; I imagine this was a real "English" experience for him. So it all comes down to the attraction of the 'other', a concept in anthropology that allows us to explore and understand what isn't a part of oneself but what can surely be made into it.


* Not just South Asia (India, Pakistan, Bangladesh) that's usually meant by the term 'Asia' in Britain, but also western, eastern, and southeastern Asia.

"The Floating Palace" at the Barbican: featuring Martin and Eliza Carthy

One of the golden rules states that "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all". But where would we be without restaurant, book, and theatre critics? Wednesday night we went to hear a folk roots performance at the Barbican entitled "The Floating Palace". I didn't enjoy the 'performance' much, and my partner simply said, "Well, I know more about what Nu Folk is now."

Martin Carthy and gang at the Barbican

The music was reasonable; I must say that the audience was extremely enthusiastic and cheered the performers into a second encore. But it went by me, I'm afraid. Three nondescript, nice, flowing, laid-back songs began the concert; good sounds but I couldn't understand any of the lyrics (and not just because I'm not British: two of the performers were from the USA). These were followed by an American song, a Morris dance tune, and an English folk song; equally, the lyrics were near-unintelligible. Martin Carthy did his usual excellent guitar picking with interesting syncopation and driving bass, and it was nice to hear him and his daughter Eliza do a duet.

But the performance was marred by an unprofessional patter (really terrible repartée), half of which couldn't be heard because they were talking off-mike (but the front rows laughed). Also, they fiddled with their instruments a lot (and I don't mean fiddling), seemingly launched into songs hesitantly, and two of the pieces definitely didn't hang together. They joked that they had just learned some pieces, and it sounded like it. I still don't know what the reference to "floating palace" mean.

In addition to the Carthys, the mainstays were Robyn Hitchcock, KT Tunstall, Krystle Warren and Howe Gelb, with a guest performer towards the end who was inadequately introduced and said he "didn't know I was going to sing this song". So all in all, though the individual musicians were all skilled and often moving singers and players and well known in their worlds, the show didn't hang together. It was more like visiting a practice session, not a 'performance'.  At least the sound desk was on stage to the right (see photo) instead of in the middle of the audience as at the South Bank Queen Elizabeth Hall.

Table Rock blues

Just what you've all been waiting for:

Why, oh why, does the table rock? Makes my food fall off the top.

Coffee spills all over the place, makes me turn all red in the face.

You can moan and you can beg, but they won't fix that table leg.

If the table tips, here's a tip for the boss: you get no tips if the table rocks.

CHORUS: Hey, hey, Mr. Restaurant Man, fix that thing as fast as you can.

   Hey, hey, you big dumb waiter, fix that table or I'll see you later.

One o' those table legs needs proppin' to keep the table top from rockin'.

The table just goes flippity-flop, unless you use a proper prop.

That nice young waitress sure is fine - it seems like she can read my mind:

She brings me toast, she brings me eggs, she brings me napkins to prop that leg.

CHORUS: Hey, hey, Miz Café gal, fix that table and I'll be your pal.

   Hey, hey Mr. Cool Barrista, fix that thing or I'll kick your keister.

I love coffee, I love tea, but not when it's all over me.

I love bacon, I love beans, but not when they're all over my jeans.

A rockin' chair makes my old heart sing, a rockin' table's another thing.

Chitlins, grits and big hamhocks, slide all around when the table rocks.

CHORUS: Hey, hey, gimme those beer mats - I need five more to make the table flat.

   Hey, hey, bring some wooden blocks, to prop those legs when the table rocks.

A lotta folks, they got no brain: when the table rocks, they don't complain.

I'm gettin' tired o' that noisy table, take that durn thing out to the stable.

I think this table needs a brace: it rocks when the house band plays that bass.

The table bangs, the table knocks, don't need a drum when the table rocks.

CHORUS: Hey, hey, I'm spillin' my beer - bring that doorstop over here.

   Glue that thing to the table pole, so the goldurn table won't rock and roll.

CHORUS REPEAT: Readin' the paper, I'm in a rage:

            the table rocks when I turn the page.

            It keeps on rockin' on the floor, so I ain't comin' back no more.




You can read about the context for all this in Restaurant Rant no. 1...

Sessions at two Shakespeare pubs

I've heard "The Swan" is the most popular name for a pub, but there are a lot of Shakespeares around, too. We've just been to a session at The Shakespeare's Head, across from Sadler's Wells Theatre in London. Nice old timey American session populated by seven geezers, two young men, a lad and two beautiful women (myself included, of course...but which category?). Or another way to look at it: 5 guitars, 2 mandolins, 2 fiddles, 2 banjos, 1 mouth harp and spoons. Unfortunately pennywhistles aren't allowed to accompany American old timey – only if an Irish tune is played.

American Old Timey Session at the Shakespeare's Head,
1 Arlington Way, Islington, London
Sessions every Sunday night from 8pm

The session was open and welcoming, both to newcomers and to those with less experience, shall we say. But as I learned from another American session at the Blue Lion pub on Gray's Inn Road, London, last Wednesday (why is it Gray when the English spelling is 'grey'?), the session etiquette is different from an Irish session, as at The Shakespeare Tavern in Durham.

In an American session, the session boss calls out for people to start a tune, or even goes around the circle for different people to start a tune, and they often name it first. At an Irish session, whoever wants just digs in and everyone follows without naming the tune. Again, an American tune is played by itself but several times, whereas Irish tunes are played two or three times in sets of three, usually. In an Irish session, the session boss often calls out the change of tunes, either just by yelling "Change!" or stating the key in which the new tune has to be played; then at the end, they might yell "Out". But in an American session, there is no changing tunes and 'Out' is often indicated by a raised foot – not unknown in Irish/English sessions. Gotta keep a watch out there. Finally, there is more singing in an American session, which raises the problem  of whether one tries to sing with an old timey American accent/voice (some English do it surprisingly well; others don't...).

Irish/English session at The Shakespeare Tavern
63 Saddler Street, Durham
Sessions on 1st & 3rd Wednesdays from about 8.30pm

Not only is the way the session run different but so is the drinking. At the American sessions (on a sample of two), everyone buys their own drinks, no questions asked (this is very American – every man, woman, and child for themself). But in an Irish/English session, a person who wants to renew their drink usually asks around if anyone else wants one, too (or maybe this is just in the north). It can get very expensive, buying rounds, and I know people who have managed their entire music career sloping off when it's their turn to buy a round but always being there to receive a drink. And if you don't drink beer (but only one rum & coke or Baileys rather than three pints a night), it's really hard to participate in buying rounds because of the scorn of the beer drinkers.

Steeleye Span at the Barbican!

The announcer said it was the wish of a lifetime: to see Steeleye Span at the Barbican. And we did it. Great stuff – Maddy Prior can still belt it out! And prance around the stage!

Steeleye Span playing at the Barbican, London

We first encountered the rock-folk band Steeleye Span in the early '80s – used to play their songs all the time while we were redecorating our first house. And now when I hear the songs, I smell paint!

The songs on December 19th, however, were mostly unfamiliar to me (so no paint), but they did sing their "signature songs" for a double encore. I yelled for "King Henry" ("more meat, more meat...") but to no avail; we got only "All Around My Hat" and "Gaudete".

Maddy was joined by Peter Knight (incredible fiddle) and Rick Kemp (incredible bass) from the nearly-original group from around 1970, with two other long-standing on&off members, Liam Genocky on drums and Pete Zorn on most everything. Julian Litman, the youngster in the ensemble, was on electric guitar. All of them sang at times. Between "halves", the Acoustic Strawbs provided a weirder set.

In the second half, SS were joined for a few pieces by Martin Carthy (possibly the single greatest name in British folk, and a founder-ish member of SS) on voice, guitar and five-string banjo, and Jon Spiers (of Bellowhead and Spiers & Boden, a famous name in current British Nu-Folk) on voice and melodeon - but they could hardly be heard and might as well not have been there. Pity. (They're in the photo, though.)

This was the end concert but one in a month-long tour of performances. Maddy is also holding a special weekend of "Stepping Stones Festival", billed as "Maddy's House Party" on May 5th and 6th, 2012.

Roots & Branches with Boys of the Lough

Alistair Anderson and Annie Whitehead
on the cover programme for "Roots & Branches"

Alistair Anderson, former head of Folkworks in Newcastle and Gateshead, created a weekend of folk music at the outstanding newish music venue in London, King's Place. We had already been to see The Shee and Monster Ceilidh Band during the Foot-Stompin' Folk night on September 10th at King's Place, so we were ready for their predecessors, the Boys of the Lough – playing together for 40 years now. It was a great night, attended mostly by diehard fans from the '70s.

As Alistair explained, the Boys of the Lough represented the "roots" of the folk tradition, and they were billed as playing "straight from the shoulder – no frills, no modern additions" (though the acoustic guitar was amplified). The "roots" then produced "branches": younger singer-songwriters such as Emily Smith and Christi Andropolis or story-tellers such as Emily Portman. Alistair himself played with jazz trombonist Annie Whitehead to explore the "jazz/folk interface." He told us that since we liked his piece "Dog Leap Stairs" (named after a steep stone stairway in Newcastle) – which we do like – the tunes of the interface would appeal.

The Boys of the Lough (Irish 'lough' pronounced like Scottish 'loch') were five: four old-timers and one youngster. Fiddler Kevin Henderson, from the Shetland Islands, takes the place of Aly Bain, the original fiddler from the Shetlands; the butt of many ageist jokes (being the youngest), Kevin brought great playing to the group. On the other hand, Brendan Begley from County Kerry, playing the button accordion, got all the size jokes, being the biggest member of the band. The Irish flute and whistle-player par excellence, Cathal McConnell, was his usual garrulous self, having to be restrained by the other members (a recurring theme during their 40 years together). He played a mean solo two-whistle set at the request of Rose in the audience; it's a mystery how one whistle could play in the high octave and one in the low octave with the same breath! Dave Richardson, from Northumbria, was main narrator and played the mandolin and concertina, while Garry O'Brian was on the guitar and piano and the only member who did not speak.

This concert was slated as a "rare UK appearance" for the Boys of the Lough, and we are sure glad not to have missed it, especially since Dave Richardson says this is his last month with the band. More changes of personnel in future for this seminal English-Scottish-Irish band as we all get older...

Making music at the Elm Tree

I wrote earlier about the Durham University Folk Society getting together on Wednesday nights at the Market Tavern to play music out of their tunebooks. An equally fun group to play with is the Tuesday night group at the Elm Tree pub, which I introduced earlier.

The Elm Tree Tuesday group is small and jams without sheet music, unlike the Folk Society playing at the Market Tavern. Anyone who brings an instrument can join in if they know the tunes. The regulars include a bodhrán and spoons player, a flutist, a fiddler, a mandolinist/guitarist, a penny-whistler, a melodeon and whistle player, a piper, and a strummer of a real Greek bouzouki. 

The bouzouki has been taken into Irish music as has the guitar, but it is rare to see the real thing rather than the flat-backed adaptation. The bouzouki has a rounded back, much like the traditional mandolin. But our mandolin player, quoting a famous phrase, said his mandolin was shaped like a boat, but his stomach was not shaped like a harbour, so he recently traded his punkin’seed mandolin in for a flat-backed. (More about pumpkins and seeds to come....)

If you’re a beginner, like me, the trick to playing with a group is to start the piece yourself, setting the pace. This is a hard and scary thing to do, but at least the rest of the players join in at a speed you can play at. Believe me, if the fiddler in our group sets the pace, I can hardly keep up, and the worse thing you can do is lose the rhythm. They always say that you shouldn’t play a tune unless you know it. But even if you know it in your head, your fingers might not follow, so practice is essential both with and without the group.

There are many great slow tunes (think of the Titanic soundtrack) that are wonderfully lyrical. For some reason, these are not often played in sessions, with everyone concentrating on the fast jigs and hornpipes, reels and polkas. On Tuesdays at the Elm Tree, we can get the group to play slow tunes and stick generally to a repertoire we know. This is more fun than when we attended an Irish session in London and only recognized 4 out of maybe 20 tunes, with that group focussing on the little known and obscure tunes.

So find yourself a session you like, with good people, knowable tunes, and the right mix of instruments. The website thesession.org lists over 2000 sessions around the world, one of which may be on your doorstep. Treat yourself to a fun evening of listening and even participation in live music while knocking back a few pints.

Music at Ye Old Elm Tree

The Elm Tree pub has been listed as the "best pub in Durham" – why, we don't know. This was in the advertising booklet published for Newcastle tourism and handed out to Durham University students last week as they all arrived back in town for the new term.

It is one of a few pubs in Durham offering sessions in traditional folk music. It's British-Irish at the Elm Tree on Monday and Tuesday nights. On Wednesdays there is the DUFS student group' practicing its tunebook repertoire at the Market Tavern, and a different session at the Shakespeare, while Thursdays have Northumbrian music at the Dun Cow and a singing session at the Tap & Spile. So entertainment is never hard to find on week nights here in Durham. And I finally understand the attraction of going down to the pub and seeing friends – without prior arrangement.
While Monday night at the Elm Tree is pretty high-powered and difficult to join in, the Tuesday night session is very flexible and welcoming, especially to us relative beginners. There are some regulars who come in to hear us play, while foreign guests of musicians are occasional visitors. Last night a group of five Japanese professors were there to listen in. So although rather isolated here in the North of England, and Durham being too small a town for some, you can't say it isn't connected and interesting!

Northumbrian Music at Market Tavern

More than thirty musicians and who knows how many onlookers gathered at the Market Tavern in Durham's Market Square Wednesday night for the first session of DUFS (Durham University Folk Society). A new tunebook was handed out, and the experienced student musicians tore through the pieces until we asked them to slow down a bit for us newcomers/beginners. There were 15 fifteen fiddlers alone (and a bassoon)! Lots of music played but the drink didn't flow too freely as these students are skint (the dictionary says "lacking funds") — one reason why the session was moved this year from the Court Inn over to Market Tavern: the drinks are supposed to be cheaper.

However, the hordes expected out Thursday night to play pub golf can't be broke if they are expected to do 9 or 18 holes (pubs) drinking, like, a pint of Guinness at each in three straw sucks! Apparently this is a tradition on the first Thursday of term here, but it's the first I've heard of it...I guess I'd been working too hard at the beginning of classes...

The Folk Society not only holds sessions, where students (even I am a student of the pennywhistle) bring their instruments and play out of the tunebook, it also holds singing nights, and fields a Morris Team, a Rapper Team and a Ceilidh Band. Those are, in order, a team that dances Morris dances, the traditional spring fertility dance of English farmers; a 5-person team that dances with "bendy" swords; and a band with caller that plays for ceilidh dances. Their brochure states that a ceilidh (Irish Gaelic, pronounced kay-lee, and I can never spell it right) is like "a barn dance, but much more fun, with better music".

Now, I remember barn dances from my university days, and the beer did flow freely — don't remember the music, wonder why...

The things I learned tonight in addition to virtually all new tunes, are that in Irish music, a piece is usually played twice before progressing to the next of a set of three tunes; however, in the north of England, following the Northumbrian tradition, pieces are played three times before progressing. If only I could have heard our session boss yell out "change" when it was time to change tunes, I wouldn't have had to count...

And here is a recent recording of a session in the newly refurbished Market Tavern (28 Feb 2013)!

Northumbrian Voices

Fantastic concert Saturday night at The Sage music venue in Gateshead by Kathryn Tickell and her father Mike Tickell plus four more musicians. Kathryn has almost single-handedly revived interest among the young in the Northumbrian pipes – a far mellower and evocative instrument than the Scottish pipes. Her "Piper's lament" is plaintive enough to make you cry. Mike is a consummate story-teller and songster, keeping alive the vocal traditions of the north.

Kathryn, center, flanked by Hannah on right and Patsy on left,
with Mike on far left. Even singing, Kathryn cannot keep still!

The "voices" of the concert title were words from the mouths of relatives and older musicians in the North Tyne area, recorded by Kathryn over the years and reproduced by the group in read format, often in dialog, between tunes. They focussed on several themes: "The Fiddle", "Learning", "Getting Together", and "Hard Times" in Part 1, and "The Quadbike, Marts & Pubs", "The Feisty Gamecock", "Wildflowers and Grass", "Changes", and "It's Part of You" in Part 2.

The three fiddlers, caught in action with zoom lens
from 2nd balcony. Kathryn rocks!

I never did find out what 'marts' are, and it was a struggle sometimes to understand the dialect words and accents, but it was a wonderful production, so intimate, so revealing. I particularly liked Kathryn's mother's words of a affection for the landscape she grew up in, swelling the heart upon every viewing. I feel the same way about the Rocky Mountains I grew up near, but I don't think many people these days have such an identification with the natural world.

The other day I had to wait a half an hour for something; this was one of the hot days we are having here, so I found a patch of grass and lay down looking at the blue sky. The smell of the grass and the jetliner passing overhead reminded me of my childhood when I used to lie for hours under the cottonwood tree watching the clouds. Every once in a while, a small prop plane would fly overhead, someone going somewhere, doing something, and it made me think of my life – where would I be going, what would I be doing.... That's what I mean by the Tickell concert being intimate and evocative. Anyway now I know where I went and what I've done, and I will surely be going to the next Kathryn Tickell concert if I can.

Learn more about Kathryn at www.kathryntickell.com.