Masters Making Boo-boos?

At 1.5 years of playing I’m still quite a novice, but I really like to listen to CDs of prominent Uillean pipers - masters of the art. However, I have noticed something: on most of these CDs of contemporary Uillean pipers I have occasionally heard what I THINK are dropped notes, i.e. (and e.g.), a high octave G that comes out as a low octave G. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s there. For example, in Mikie Smith’s CD, The Wild Keys, he plays An Sean Duine in a track. Lovely tune. I found the musical notation for it and have been playing it for some time now. There’s a high G in the second part and Mikie drops it into the low octave on the repeat. It’s unmistakable.

Can this be happening accidentally? If it’s accidental, why wouldn’t he re-record the track to fix it? I find it hard to believe a piper of Mikie Smith’s ability would miss a note like that and leave it in the recording. Or is it artistic license and therefore deliberate? Or is there some kind of Uillean piper’s creed to record the first take and leave in the bloopers and boo-boos?

I wandered over here from the flute forum, so I don’t know much about the ins and outs of piping, but that kind of octave switching is very common on the flute. Take what Séamus Tansey says in this clip:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1m1KMtIjWA

Whether you agree with him or not as to how integral it is to playing (hence the title of the video), hitting the “wrong” octaves on a various notes is fairly de rigeur for flute players at least.

I find it is what makes listening to uilleann pipes so entertaining, those little idiosyncrasies, kind of like Mr. Ennis’s F# “blip” :slight_smile: .

I took a quick listen to the track you cited and I’m sure Mikie drops the octave on purpose to add variety to the melody. Mikie always plays in a very definate and crafted way and by the time ’ The wild Keys’ was recorded he would have played something like 15,000 hours on those reeds , so he’d know exactly how to maintain or drop the octave at will.

However, many recordings do have mistakes and some of those on older recordings add character by the determination of the piper playing a recalcitrant instrument. Some modern recordings do have horrible passages left in which might be due to the absence of a music editor or at least some third person to listen to the tracks before they are published.

I’ve re-listened to the track and am too convinced it’s deliberate. He plays the whole tune through three times and in the second and third times through he does not play the high G in the second part - it’s quite deliberate.

Ok, but there are other tunes by accomplished pipers where it’s hard to conclude it’s deliberate. Which brings me to a larger point: the difference between GHB culture and Uillean culture. As a GHB piper of several decades and a new Uillean piper, I’m discerning some differences in piping “culture” between the two groups. One is not superior to the other - they are just different. I wonder if, to some extent, GHB culture has been shaped by the heavy emphasis upon competition, both band and solo. Uillean piping seems to possess a much more relaxed attitude towards playing a tune “as written”, stemming from Uillean piping’s more aural tradition, i.e., passing on music to a new generation by aural methods rather than by written notation. It seems like this more relaxed attitude allows for more innovation in a tune based on the preferences of the piper.

Even in Uillean chanter fingering there is latitude for different finger movements (so many it’s bewildering to a novice like myself). On the GHB, however, there is a well-defined set of ornamentation sets (birls, d-throws, grips, taorluaths, etc.) and you’d better stick to those sets or suffer the scorn of the gatekeepers of the art.

I’ve played the GHB in competitive bands and can recall that there are Judges that will ding the performance if the tune is “not played as written” (an exact quote from a judge’s scoring sheet I once received). In competitive GHB piobaireachd (Ceòl Mòr) playing, deviating from the exact notation of some sanctioned scores can lose you the competition. That was true a while ago - not sure if it’s still true (haven’t competed in a while).

Anyway, these are just musings. I’d appreciate anyone else’s thoughts about differences in GHB and Uillean piping cultures.

Variation and different colouring are the most highest prized assets a piper has. Rolling off a tune ‘as written’ is predictable and highly boring.

I am probably one of the best pipers in the world . I drop notes make squawks and squeeks drop octaves and generally play to a mediocre standard , but it’s all deliberate, in an effort to make my playing sound interesting.

RORY

I liken piping to a high-wire act: the balance artist may lift a foot, teeter, heck…sometimes even fall onto the wire itself…only to bounce off it back into position and continue down the wire. But did he fall? No. :slight_smile:

It seems there’s value to both approaches: the GHB culture fiercely defends the tradition, how it’s always been done and played. Without defenders of that tradition we wouldn’t even have the instrument or much beautiful traditional music. But taken to its extreme it produces ossification, rigidity, and staleness. And GHB piping can be that way . . .

The Uillean culture values innovation and individual expression. The value of this is obvious. But taken to extremes it can dilute or destroy the tradition, and something of value is lost.

I realize I’m uttering platitudes . . . but someone’s got to do it.

My God, you are a genius. A true visionary, a pioneer! :open_mouth: :smiley:









:stuck_out_tongue:

All about balance between order and chaos. Or the left hand path and the right hand path, duality. :smiley:





Or something like that. :poke: :poke: :poke: :boggle:

Ahh…but competition piping is not ‘how it’s always been done and played’…unlike many Uilleann pipers on this forum who have come from a GHB Competition background, I have done the opposite and after 25+ years playing UPs have, for the past 10 years, been studying and learning to play the Highland pipes (albiet via the smallpipes/lowland tradition and now only in the past two years or so transitioned to a set of GHB), I have been very drawn to the Cape Breton tradition that pre-dates the competition tradition. When I listen to recordings of Cape Breton pipers such as Barry Shears or the MacKenzie brothers, and then hear competition pipers play the same tunes, the Cape Breton piping is far more pleasing to my ear.

The style of piping that early Scottish migrants took to Nova Scotia was quite varied and, if I understand correctly, sometimes came down to family tradition rather than a nationally-recognised “correct” way of piping. A friend of mine who grew up in the competition GHB tradition recently comment to me after I played a few tunes on my highland pipes, that he has recently come to realise that there is more than one way to play the Highland pipes nicely. If only more highland pipers would explore this concept, then they might find the transition to uilleann piping and probably every other piping tradition in the world far less perplexing.

The Uillean culture values innovation and individual expression

I’m not convinced that you can directly oppose uilleann piping and GHB culture by saying that uilleann piping values ‘individual expression’. It certainly values individual virtuosity, and a kind of spontenaeity in performance, but there’s some emphasis on tradition and lineage (for want of a better word) in uilleann piping culture too. Let’s also not forget that many young uilleann pipers are exposed to a ‘competition’ system as well.

Having said all that as an outsider I’m baffled by some of the attitudes reported in GHB musical culture. It’s particularly interesting to see people like Barnaby Brown reassessing the tradition and equally interesting to see how worked up some people get by the suggestion that the Piobaireachd Society might have distorted the repertoire and performance culture rather than simply transmitting it down from some semi-mythical past.

Back to uilleann piping. I get the feeling that most modern players have the technical resources to avoid nearly all squeaks, dropped notes, etc but I think there’s a conscious decision not to be too clinical - partly because such rough edges humanise the music and are in themselves expressive. I think there’s also a degree of unconscious imitation of the great historic players who are usually heard in informal ‘field’ recordings - ultimately you get a sort of one-take ethos which preserves the illusion of spontenaiety even when a recording has been made in a studio with tune selection done well in advance.

I personally really enjoy an accomplished piper hitting a squeak here,
a dropped note there…

The style of GHB playing that Scottish migrants took to Australia was quite varied too. Check out Dr. Barry Orme’s writings and recordings of Simon Fraser’s “pre-modern” pìobaireachd style. Unfortunately, Orme and Fraser’s theories about pìobaireachd get into all kinds of seriously woo-woo stuff about the Freemasons, but the music itself is somewhat interesting.

Like other forms of orthodoxy, competitive Scottish piping projects a veneer of “maintaining tradition” when in fact it is fiercely innovative. With regard to tempo, pulse, “standard” fingering, intonation, and pitch, the instrument has changed dramatically over the past 50 years–arguably far more than uilleann pipes have. Go to Ross Anderson’s bagpipe page and have a listen to 78 recordings of John MacDonald and Willie Ross playing in the 1910s-20s. Heck, have a listen to some of the videos on YouTube of leading players from 30 years ago. What you hear Donald MacPherson or P.M. Angus MacDonald playing then isn’t quite the same as what you’d hear on the competition boards today. The changes have often been subtle but distinctive.

Getting back to uilleann piping, as others have already mentioned, uilleann piping is a high-wire act, and even in ideal conditions, the instrument will not do everything even the most experienced and confident player wants it to do. With archive recordings, people often complain now about squeaks and wayward tuning, but bear in mind that sometimes when some well-intentioned archivist showed up at the door with the tape recorder, the piper in question may not have played in many months. I doubt that when Willie Clancy sat down to play on some of his recordings, he thought to himself “50 years from now, hundreds of pipers all over the world are going to be nitpicking what I’m doing in this tune, and it’ll end up starting flame wars on the Internet.” As Geoff mentioned, pipes in those days were often not int the best of shape. I’ve heard it said that towards the end of his life Séamus Ennis’s pipes were barely playable at all.

Recording is a totally different game to live performance or sessioning. It’s very easy to make a recording too sterile / clinical by recording over the bumps and squeaks and out of tune notes. Pipers that listen to piping cd’s will invariably analyse the heck out of it. Pipers are their own worst critics and maybe self perpetuate the sterile recordings! (I certainly am guilty of this and have recorded over the mistakes). Trying to capture the concert or session feel in a studio setting is next to impossible. I guess that’s why people still go to concerts!

Several of the comments here reference deliberately leaving in squeaks and squawks and the occasional dropped note to humanize the (Uillean) music or otherwise make it less perfect or clinical.

That’s a big difference (I think) between the GHB and Uillean pipe cultures . . . a top playing GHB player would never (I’m going out on a limb here) allow such squeaks and squawks into a recorded piece, at least not nowadays. The modern top-ranked GHB piper strives for perfect, distinct clarity for each note, whether it’s a melody note or an ornamentation note. No extraneous chirps or (heaven forbid) crossing noises.

This perfectionist approach is not better than the Uillean, more relaxed, approach, but it is different. I wonder if this different approach has its origin in the greater inherent difficulty in producing that perfectly clean sound from the Uillean pipes . . . or maybe that’s just my amateurish ( :blush: ) playing.

Welcome to the Dark Side! They say there are two sorts of Highland pipers: the ones who have taken up the uilleann pipes, and the ones who want to take up the uilleann pipes!

I’ve been playing both sorts of pipes for over 40 years, maintaining one foot in each, which I think has given me some perspective on the issue.

It’s my belief that the culture surrounding each instrument is even more different than the music played on each.

For starters there’s each instrument’s milieu.

Though both instruments are played alone at home, and on the stage as part of rehearsed musical ensembles, the native habitat of the Highland pipes is Pipe Band competition at outdoor Games, and the native habitat of the uilleann pipes is the pub session. These are the places the music lives and breathes.

This influences almost everything that follows.

The repertoire: Highland pipes play the music which will allow them to succeed in competition, uilleann pipes play the music of the piper’s local session.

The social milieu: Highland pipers go to their weekly band practices and go to Games to compete regularly during competition season. Your band-mates become some of your closest friends. Some bands have picnics or other social gatherings in addition to practice and competition. There’s a wonderful bond or cameraderie that exists between band-mates, the people you “cross the line” with. They become something of a family.

Likewise the local pub session members become socially close. The bonding comes through playing music together and chatting- some sessions can be more chat than playing! Because the music and chat can both serve as means to the larger end, of spending time with friends who have a shared interest.

Performance practices: All the pipers in a Highland pipe band have to be able to play in tight unison if the band is to do well in competition. Pipers can indulge in self-expression on their own time! Band-time means sublimating yourself to the good of the whole, which for the pipers means mimicking the precise style of the Pipe Major as closely as possible, having your fingers work identically to the Piper Major’s.

At an Irish trad session you’re often the only uilleann piper. Yes you try to play a version of the tune which doesn’t clash with the session’s version, but each sort of instrument (box, banjo, fiddle, flute, pipes) is putting its own distinctive idiomatic spin on the tune. The expectation is that you as the piper is playing a nice piping version, the fiddler is playing a nice fiddle version, and so forth. Your fingers aren’t mimicking the exact motion of another person’s fingers.

Dress: Pipe Bands are required to wear Highland Dress to compete. Like orchestral musicians you have your “monkey suit” which is something of a detested neccessity. (Pipers nearly universally express the wish to be able to compete in ordinary clothes.) At pub sessions you come as you are! There’s no associated costume with the uilleann pipes (not anymore!)

Now about now some of you Irish are screaming “but we have competitions too! What about Comhaltas?” Yes I know that that’s big in Ireland, but out here in the diaspora the pub session is where the music lives. And others of you are screaming “but there are Scottish sessions too! With pipers playing smallpipes and such!” Yes there are, but these pipers make up a tiny fraction of the Highland piping world. There are probably a thousand Highland pipers playing in Pipe Bands for every Highland piper who primarily attends pub sessions playing Highland smallpipes. I’m speaking to the average Highland piper and the average uilleann piper.

Another big difference is that Highland pipers generally learn from sheet music (in standard staff notation) while uilleann pipers generally learn by ear. Actually it’s continually dismaying to me how most of my Highland piping friends neither have ears good enough to quickly pick up tunes by ear, nor sightread good enough to play tunes they’ve never heard at speed at first sight, off the sheet music. My time in the ITM world allows me to do the former, while my time in the “legit” musical world allows me to do the latter. Most Highland pipers have to have the sheet music in front of them AND be familiar with the tune in order to play it. Each modality serves as an aid to help overcome the deficiency in the other.

When our pipe band is learning new music, sitting around the table with Practice Chanters, I put the sheet music face down, watch the Pipe Major’s fingers, and go into ITM mode. I have all the music memorised by that first practice, while some of the pipers still don’t have the tunes down a month or two later. Your time in ITM will develop this, which will come in handy in the Highland piping world!

Also, Highland pipers usually learn one version of a tune and stick with it, while part of the art of playing ITM is learning how to vary the tune as you go along. The structure of Irish reels and jigs tends to be repetitive, and it would be dull to play a tune three times in a row (which is fairly standard) exactly the same way each time. Part of learning a tune is figuring out a number of nice things you can do with it.

I’m convinced that Highland piping used to be the same way. The reels played in the March, Strathspey, and Reel competition are nearly all very old traditional tunes. They first appear, oftentimes, in 18th century collections as typical traditional two-part reels. Then in the 19th century they become extended to four-part tunes, the new third part being a variation of the first part, and the new fourth part being a variation of the second part, having the same feel as a two-part Irish reel being played twice through and varied by the player. In like manner these tunes oftentimes continue to gather more parts, some being played today as six, eight, or ten part reels.

Likewise some pipers believe that piobaireachd (ceol mor) was originally improvised. Just like in jazz the piece starts with a familiar song-tune (did you know they were songs with words?) which then goes through a number of improvised variations (following the traditional idiom and format) and finally returning to the “head” (as it’s called in jazz, or “urlar” as it’s called in piobaireachd).

The specific versions that happen to have been written down capture a particular unique performance; the same player could have played the same piobaireachd a number of times, each time being different. More or less variations would be thrown in according to how much time the player needed to fill.

By the way a format generally similar to piobaireachd used to exist in uilleann piping, and you will sometimes hear echos of it even today.

The figuring out variations and personal versions of tunes is alive and well in Highland piping! I attended a Gordon Walker concert and it was obvious that he had spent time working out his own twist on every tune he played.