Buskers on the Tube

Ted Emmett, TfL busker

Hearing music floating up the escalators on London's tube always gives me a lift, even when going down, not up. The performers are usually very, very good and deserve a coin tossed their way. I stopped to listen and talk to one Ted Emmett who was playing some really nice stuff. Apparently there is stiff competition to hold one of the 39 pitches available in 25 underground stations. Transport for London vets each applicant and licences them to play, and TfL also send all their buskers a newsletter and can serve as a go-between to put them in touch with the public who would like to hire them for gigs. Seems like a win-win situation for everyone. I just wish I'd see more people contribute to the cause  – after all, it's nice to reward a good player for their efforts rather than have someone stand on a corner with a begging cup.

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...

"Refined Pleasures": Korean music at Musicon

The last concert in the Musicon Festival of East Asian Music featured Korean music performed by the impressive ensemble Jeong Ga Ak Hoe. What a contrast with the preceding Chinese music. One can hardly call the piri oboe 'soft', but it was lyrical, playing in the lower octave in a slow sedate manner to start off the concert. And the haegum fiddle, unlike the Chinese erhu, did not play an easily discernible melody but long, drawn-out, plaintive notes also in the lower octave. 

Piri soloist in the Durham Town Hall
Musicon Festival of East Asian Music 2012

The four pieces in the first half of the concert  had been court or aristocratic entertainments. Consistent with the Confucian observation that "good music makes good politics", music always played an important part of traditional elites' lifestyle. 


The second half included two pieces composed specifically for the group. The opening piece stood out for me: "Soaring Towards Absolute Solitude" by US-based Korean composer Yoon Hyejin. It was inspired by the "Heroic eagle painting" of the late 19th century, depicting an eagle standing on one leg on a stone in the sea. Here, the haegum excelled, with other instruments following along in periodic changes of single notes (like the single leg), in the manner of modern minimalist music.


A lovely flute solo (sanjo) apparently derived from shamanistic ritual music and another modern composition (based on the fusion of a traditional ensemble piece with a boat song) concluded the concert. 


Eight musicians were flown in from Korea specifically for this concert; it was well worth their effort and very enjoyable for us – including the forty members of a Korean student society who gathered from Durham and Newcastle just for the concert. We were also encouraged to learn that the musicians were all aged between 25 and 40, meaning young people are actually learning the traditional musics to carry them on into the future. Consummate musicians, all. 

From left to right: the piri oboe, daegeum flute with a vibrating membrane,
and the saenghwang mouth organ

Musicon Festival: Chinese flute music

True to its title, "Birds in the Shade", this lunchtime Musicon concert in Durham began with an incredible chirping, cheeping flute piece by Lu Panling on the dizi flute (did anyone tweet it?). This is one of several East Asian flutes that has an extra hole covered by a membrane that vibrates, giving a slight buzzing to the sound. As Dr David Hughes, SOAS ethnomusicologist, explained in his introductory lecture on the various instruments at the Festival, we Westerners have spent centuries trying to get the buzzing out of our music, but in East Asia and indeed in much of the world it is avidly sought in many instruments. (Think also of the Indian sitar, or the cockle shells or Coke bottle tops nailed to a Zimbabwean mbira thumb-piano.)

A recital of Chinese flute music
Musicon Festival of East Asian Music
28-29 February 2012

This recital of Chinese flute music involved three musicians, Lu on several sizes of dizi and the vertical end-blown flute xiao, a relative of the shakuhachi played in the previous concert "The Sound of Zen"; Chuang Cheng-Ying on two different lutes, the liuqin and zhongruan; and Wang Xiao on the two-stringed vertical fiddle, the erhu. Unlike the similar Korean haegeum, heard in the next Festival concert entitled "Refined Pleasures", the erhu is a melodic instrument that follows the flute. In Chinese traditional music, these several instruments play without harmony, each with its own variant of a single melody, at its own octave pitch.

The pieces ranged from Mongolian folk tunes to Chinese opera to teahouse tunes (sizhu) to new "national music" (guoyue). One of the most interesting facets of the concert was the juxtaposition of Peking opera style (Jing Opera) with southern opera style (Kunqu). Anyone who has heard Peking opera is familiar with its lively almost raucous style (but without the various percussion here), while the Kunqu style, described as "sentimental" in the programme, was surprising in its lyrical effect. The concert ended with several pieces of guoyue which sometimes offered chords on the lute, but often included countermelodies on the different instruments. With five instruments and three players, the pieces also provided different combinations of instruments to entertain our ears.

The three musicians came together just for this performance; they do not constitute a named group. However, they all live currently in London, so it is possible to hear each playing at different venues. Meanwhile, the SOAS Sizhu Ensemble has a Facebook group and does occasional gigs. Watch out for them for some relaxing teahouse entertainment!

Leap Day in Durham: The Musicon Festival of East Asian Music

Leap Day today; I asked my husband to marry me, and he said, "What? Again?". Well, if not leaping into marriage, there are other things to leap for joy about.

Kiku Day with some of her myriad
jinashi shakuhachi

Leapin' lizards! How often do you get to hear jinashi shakuhachi and Satsuma biwa outside of Japan? Or even inside of Japan? These two instruments were the first offered in the 'bamboo' themed Musicon Festival concert series at Durham University last night.

The shakuhachi is usually identified as an instrument of Zen Buddhism, useful in inducing meditation. And indeed, the first performer entered the concert hall as a Buddhist monk, in formal dress with the usual tengai basket over the head. The basket is supposed to erase identity, so it would have done no good to take a picture of Kiku Day in that costume. Here you see her relaxed with some of her shakuhachi that do not have a lacquered bore (thus, jinashi, 'no lacquer'). She played several meditative pieces, astounding her audience with the fluttering, plaintive, evocative sounds of the free-rhythm wanderings.

Kiku, a Dane with a Japanese and American background, studied honkyoku, with Master Okuda Atsuya in Tokyo for 11 years. She is a founding member of the European Shakuhachi Society and teaches shakuhachi in London and at Aarhus University in Denmark after having taken a Ph.D. in Ethnomusicology at SOAS in 2010.

Charles Marshall on the biwa lute,
in formal Japanese dress

Charles Marshall, a consummate biwa lute player of the Satsuma tradition of narrative storytelling, gave us recitation in Japanese of the famous 12th-century hero, Nasu no Yoichi, who shot an arrow from the back of a skittish horse at a fan mounted on an enemy boat during the Battle of Yashima. He also sang a piece once performed by Buddhist monks travelling door-to-door to collect alms. The amazing sounds from the biwa – deep undertones capped with a wailing melody, buzzing bass strings, all punctuated by the slap, slap of the plectrum on the instrument body – were equalled by Charlie's perfect rendition of the Satsuma recitation style, not a trivial accomplishment for either foreigners or Japanese. (His serious facial expression, by the way, is the one expected of Japanese when performing most genres of traditional music - even in happy stories. One audience member asked him about this after the concert.)

Originally an Organ Scholar at Emmanuel College, Cambridge, Charlie went to Japan as a JET English teacher and ended up spending 14 years there, learning Satsuma biwa from the Master Yoshinori Fumon between 1994 and 2003. He is now back in Ireland pursuing an MA in organ performance while continuing to maintain these extremely specialized and rare skills.

'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...

Bill Frisell at the South Bank

Tonight we caught the last installment of the London Jazz Festival this year: Bill Frisell with his string quartet playing to a packed audience at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, South Bank. It was quite (very)* stupendous though off on a rocky start: with troubles in the sound system, it was difficult to recognize when various pluckings became the first piece rather than noise.

I am not a jazz aficionado and know little about the genre, but I do know what I like and that is not noisy, disjointed jazz. Frisell plays more melodic tunes on the electric guitar, tonight tending towards minimalism with much repetition and 'variations on a theme'. His compositions are very playful and exploit the unusual sound-making aspects of classical stringed instruments. I particularly liked the plucking and strumming of the violin, viola and cello – so unexpected to a classically oriented ear. His pieces aren't as lyrical as, for example Chet Atkins in his "Sails" album, but they are interesting listening and keep you on your toes. At least one of Frisell's pieces drew on a folk song, while an encore piece was an arrangement of "Strawberry Fields Forever", supposedly a tribute to us here in London from Denverite Bill.

If I had two gripes, one is that Bill's electric guitar, which had the potential to overshadow the other strings, almost acted as a underlying support for the tunes. It didn't soar (like 70s rock, my favourite), and the virtuosity attributed to his playing (as done with Béla Fleck) was not really apparent tonight. The second gripe is the structure of the Queen Elizabeth Hall, with the sound desk right in the middle of the seating (photo). So next time, I'll not choose seats in rows AA to about JJ in the middle of the Rear Stalls: even top price tickets give a bad view here.

Still, it was a great night out and the first of the London Jazz Festival I have been able to attend over many years. And the honey nut tarts sold at the Hall kiosk were amazingly close to the taste of pecan pie!

NeWt, the band fronting Bill Frisell, barely visible over the sound desk in the middle of Queen Elizabeth Hall.

* It was only after a year of marking student papers "quite good" that I discovered that meant "not good enough" in British English. Here I use it in the American sense of "very good".

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)!

Gamelan Welcomes New International Students to Durham

The Durham University Gamelan Society played 3 hours of soothing background music in the café of the Calman Learning Centre last Friday as international students trooped up to the fourth floor to attend the International Students Fair. This event is not nearly so exciting as the Societies Fair this week aimed at undergraduates, where all the university societies recruit new members. The international students mostly got advice on, guess what, "Living in England": how to open a bank account, get a broadband provider, find out about religious services, and what the Durham Student Union does.
   Nevertheless, it was the second year of Javanese gamelan playing at this "international" event, which I think is a nice ethnic outreach showing we value other cultures and their musics; not like being faced with a string quartet or anything. Now, to get some of those international students playing in the gamelan, as this wayang golek puppet entices with his paper advertisement... (The group meets Wednesdays from about 2:30 to 5:30pm in the University Observatory, and welcomes new members. See www.durhamgamelan.org.uk)
   This was the first public performance on the University's new pélog gamelan set - a different tuning system from the sléndro set that has been there for some 40 years. There are more than 80 sets of Indonesian gamelan instruments in the UK and Ireland at present.

(Ironic that this international students welcome event, attended by a large number of Asian and a few African students, was held in the Calman Learning Centre, named for recent Vice-Chancellor Sir Kenneth Calman. It was during Calman's autocratic reign that degree programmes in Chinese, Japanese, Arabic and some other "non-Western" languages and subjects were terminated without any justification other than a desire to focus resources on the University's "core" interests, i.e. the West. [Additionally the Linguistics Department was "traded" to another university for theologians; Durham Theology encompasses Christian, Biblical and Jewish studies but ignores other religions - Buddhism, Islam, etc.] Calman later admitted regretting this course of events, and some East Asian language teaching is being revived. Too late to cancel the embarrassment to the University. Ironic also that the Durham business school now reportedly has some 900 students from China - but never mind, they all speak English, no need for anyone to learn Chinese in this modern world, is there? – dweeb)

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.

Okinawan Music at the Japan Matsuri

We did it again! The London Sanshinkai did a half hour's performance this past Sunday at the 2011 Japan Matsuri (Festival), singing slow and fast songs and then dancing the Okinawan bon dance, Eisa. Great fun. The stuff is already up on Youtube.

Let's start with the fast dance, Toshindoi

Penguin outside the London Aquarium in
kimono for the Japan Matsuri!

Then to a slow dance and song, Asadoya Yunta

And end with a slow song teaching morals to children, Tinsagu no Hana

Unlike the past two years of Japan Matsuri held at Spitlefields Market, this one took place around the outside of the London County Hall, next to the London Eye. Lots of stalls offering food and trinkets; two outdoor stages for music performances and one for martial arts. Good that it didn't rain!

Don't know where next year's festival will be held yet but probably at the same time of year – maybe conflicting again with London Open House Weekend (previous blog)...Keep in touch with the Japan Matsuri website.