Bagpipes
I'm in a concert band and this term we're playing an arrangement of Pirates of the Caribbean, due to the remarkable failure of the brass section to get anywhere near the right notes when we sightread Pirates of Penzance. Our conductor, however, surprised us yesterday with new music. I stared at the piece, wondering what it could possibly sound like (the piccolo part is remarkably unhelpful, and includes 31 measures of rest at the beginning). However, within five minutes everything became clear. There was 31 measures of rest in my part for a BAGPIPE solo.
This is misleading. We are in fact accompanying five bagpipes. Now, if you've ever heard the bagpipe being played, you'll understand why I am concerned. The bagpipe is possibly the loudest instrument I know. The students on campus are forced to leave doors and windows open when they practice indoors because if they don't, it drowns out all other sound in the building. They have taken to roving in circles in the quads at around sunset, practicing and sometimes wearing kilts. We are, however, planning to play with five bagpipes and a concert band in a church, which is, you may note, an enclosed area. One clarinet player jokingly suggested that we line the bagpipes up around the building. What's great is that it would probably give us the balance of sound we need to not deafen the audience. I was both horrified and excited by the thought of hearing five bagpipes at once, since I've had a secret fascination with them for most of high school.
Bagpipes were originally meant to be heard over long distances and over the clanging and shouting of battle. The sound of them was intended to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy. And after sitting directly in front of a bagpipe going full blast for an hour and a half, I understand why. The bagpipe is a fearsome, deafening, and slightly ridiculous instrument. I imagined myself, in my 31 measures of rest, fighting in a battle. I'm feeling good and I've just decapitated someone when suddenly a horrendous moan crosses the field, wavering in pitch. It grows louder, and suddenly a violent, triumphant music starts blasting me. I look up, and there's a man in a kilt, blowing into and squeezing a pig's stomach, staring me down and blasting me with music so loud and fearsome that it must be sent from God. In my wonder, I am killed by an errant spear.
In conclusion, the bagpipe is a great instrument because it feels anachronistic. Its sound doesn't fit properly in our buildings and long distance warfare. I also like that its purpose was not merely to create music to be played in parlors. Bagpipes have far more of a place in my world than, say, the barry sax. Bagpipes, I salute you!
This is misleading. We are in fact accompanying five bagpipes. Now, if you've ever heard the bagpipe being played, you'll understand why I am concerned. The bagpipe is possibly the loudest instrument I know. The students on campus are forced to leave doors and windows open when they practice indoors because if they don't, it drowns out all other sound in the building. They have taken to roving in circles in the quads at around sunset, practicing and sometimes wearing kilts. We are, however, planning to play with five bagpipes and a concert band in a church, which is, you may note, an enclosed area. One clarinet player jokingly suggested that we line the bagpipes up around the building. What's great is that it would probably give us the balance of sound we need to not deafen the audience. I was both horrified and excited by the thought of hearing five bagpipes at once, since I've had a secret fascination with them for most of high school.
Bagpipes were originally meant to be heard over long distances and over the clanging and shouting of battle. The sound of them was intended to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy. And after sitting directly in front of a bagpipe going full blast for an hour and a half, I understand why. The bagpipe is a fearsome, deafening, and slightly ridiculous instrument. I imagined myself, in my 31 measures of rest, fighting in a battle. I'm feeling good and I've just decapitated someone when suddenly a horrendous moan crosses the field, wavering in pitch. It grows louder, and suddenly a violent, triumphant music starts blasting me. I look up, and there's a man in a kilt, blowing into and squeezing a pig's stomach, staring me down and blasting me with music so loud and fearsome that it must be sent from God. In my wonder, I am killed by an errant spear.
In conclusion, the bagpipe is a great instrument because it feels anachronistic. Its sound doesn't fit properly in our buildings and long distance warfare. I also like that its purpose was not merely to create music to be played in parlors. Bagpipes have far more of a place in my world than, say, the barry sax. Bagpipes, I salute you!
posted by Meredith at 8:17 AM
4 Comments:
I always wanted to learn bagpipes! My bestfriend is on the Orkney islands now and are huffing and puffing the pipes. I do wish I could learn it aswell=)
!
Why five bagpipes?
The noise level in that church will be at "loudest" with one of those instruments. Having four more will just add to the confusion.
I have a recording of Amazing Grace played on the bagpipes. Apart from that, most bagpipe music is decidedly annoying to me. Doesn't that low droning that they always produce (it's really loud and grating and probably has to sound out for the bagpipe to be played properly... it's hard to describe but you probably know what I'm talking about) ever get to you?
Apart from being the loudest instrument around, it is also the most out of tune. I would like to wish you luck in surviving a piece with 5 bagpipes!!!
I too am a little nervous about the concert. I'm nervous for all the old people who decide to come and listen to us play when they're not at home doing crossword puzzles. If they weren't hard of hearing to begin with, they certainly will after the concert is over.
I can't wait for concert band to be over.
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