Festival of American Fiddle Tunes/Paul Conklin

 

Fall 2007

Features

Departments

  • Fiddle Tune History: Fiddle Tunes at the Races, Part II, by Andrew Kuntz
  • The Practicing Fiddler: Overcoming Music Performance Anxiety (A Conversation with BÈla Balogh), by Hollis Taylor
  • Cross-Tuning Workshop: AEAE, by Jody Stecher
  • Bluegrass Fiddling: Tommy Magness, by Paul Shelasky
  • On Improvisation: Boogie-Woogie, Part II, by Paul Anastasio
  • Irish Fiddling: Learning from Lilting, by Brendan Taaffe
  • Cross-Canada Fiddle Tour: Dan R. MacDonald, by Gordon Stobbe
  • Reviews

Tunes

  • Grasshopper on a Sweet Potato Vine, as played by Fletcher Bright
  • Sally Goodin’, as played by Fletcher Bright
  • The Wise Maid, as played by Fletcher Bright
  • Laven’s Favorite, traditional, from Maeve Donnelly’s CD
  • The Nightingale, by Sean Ryan, from Maeve Donnelly’s CD
  • New Ross Reel, by Jason Anick
  • One for a Window, by Mari Black
  • Curragh Races (Fiddle Tune History)
  • New Market (Fiddle Tune History)
  • Bee’s Wing (Fiddle Tune History)
  • Wagoner (Fiddle Tune History)
  • Grey Eagle (Fiddle Tune History)
  • Old Joe Clark, transcribed by Jody Stecher as played by Fiddlin’ Powers, Tommy Jarrell, and Ernie Carpenter (Cross-Tuning Workshop)
  • Paddy on the Turnpike, solo transcribed by Paul Shelasky as played by Tommy Magness
  • Small Wonder, by Brendan Taaffe
  • The Lime Hill Strathspey, by Dan R. MacDonald, transcribed by Gordon Stobbe

article excerpts

Fletcher Bright: Playing, Teaching, Giving Back

By Jim Wood

The fiddle is the most magical of all instruments with its capacity to produce such enchanting tones; possibly only the human voice can match its expressiveness. When someone puts a fiddle under his chin and draws the bow across the strings, anyone within ear shot can immediately intuit the very makeup, the soul, of the person making sound with this little wooden box. To a great extent, the measure of a fiddler’s greatness (or any musician, for that matter) is his ability to reveal his innermost workings and interior life so that others may connect with his humanity. By extension, this fiddler also can define his place in the history and cultural heritage of his people with a simple tune. Fletcher Bright embodies these aesthetics with such grace and ease that anyone listening immediately recognizes that he is an individual of great substance, the type of person who has lived his life in a way that has really mattered and made the world a better place.

Now seventy-six years old, his life-long musical journey in many ways is the history of folk fiddling in the Southeast for the last
sixty years, and he shows no signs of slowing down now. His nature is to continually search out new tunes and discover better ways to approach the instrument, and his enthusiasm is contagious. His commitment to teaching others what he has learned along the way also speaks volumes about his basic character.
               
Fletcher Bright studied piano and violin as a child in his native Chattanooga, Tennessee, but his real musical story began at age fourteen when he discovered the music that would later be coined bluegrass. He followed the fiddling of proto-bluegrass artists such as Arthur Smith and Tommy Magness (and to this day his tendency is to keep one foot in the pre-World War II era, old-timey style and feel), but he came under the spell, as did practically every fiddler of his generation, of Benny Martin and Chubby Wise, and this fusion of old time fiddle tunes and bluegrass drive, speed, and intensity are hallmarks of his playing. Caught up in the excitement of Bill Monroe’s Big Bang in 1945 when Chubby Wise and Earl Scruggs forever defined bluegrass fiddle and banjo, respectively, Bright and several high school classmates formed the Dismembered Tennesseans, who still perform actively (with a few personnel changes in recent years due to illness and death) after sixty-two years. (Surely this wins the band the title “The Most Durable in the History of Music.”)
               
A few years back Bright also formed the Fletcher Bright Fiddle Band, with his son George Bright on guitar, in order to explore and share his deep and abiding love of fiddle tunes. These ensembles and his solo work as a performer have carried him to such far-flung places as the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. and the American Folk Festival in New York City as well as regional festivals and concert halls throughout the Southeast for years (he has even performed his own orchestrations with the Chattanooga Symphony), but his work over the past two decades as an instructor at summer music camps such as the Augusta Heritage Center (Elkins, West Virginia), Nash Camp (Cumberland Furnace, Tennessee), Bluegrass on the Beach (Portland, Oregon), Mark O’Connor’s Fiddle Camp (Dickson, Tennessee), the Festival of American Fiddle Tunes (Port Townsend, Washington), and Sore Fingers (Kingham Hill, England) has perhaps reached even wider audiences and has definitely directly touched more lives. In a more intimate and extended situation such as a week-long camp, students and colleagues have come to know Bright as not only an outstanding fiddler (who, as an aside, plays jazz piano more than passingly well) and collector of tunes, but as a genuinely generous man who has never held back from sharing his gifts with others.

His other public life as one of the top commercial real estate developers in the United States has brought him tremendous success in business and financial reward, and he has for decades been a true patron of the arts, supporting various theaters, concert series, festivals, scholarship funds, and organizations such as the International Bluegrass Music Museum and SPBGMA (the Society for the Preservation of Bluegrass Music of America). Astonishingly, his credits, awards, and activities in the world of real estate, in support of general education, and with his church and choir are equally as extensive as his musical life and history (and he is an experienced pilot to boot), but in 2005 he received one of his most distinguished honors with his Governor’s Folklife Heritage Award presented by Governor Phil Bredesen. It is the state of Tennessee’s highest acknowledgement for achievement in the arts.
               
A few months ago I spent the afternoon at Bright’s beautiful home atop Lookout Mountain, Tennessee, before we played a show together in Chattanooga that evening, and we recorded our conversation about his life of fiddling. Following are a few excerpts.

Jim Wood: On emotional, spiritual, and sociological levels, what do you think about fiddle music, what does it mean to you, and how do you understand its meaning something in our culture and our society (not just Southern culture but in general)?

Fletcher Bright: You know I love good music, and I go toward old time music maybe because it’s easy enough for me to play (but it really is not that easy if you play it well), but that’s not an exclusive with me. I like all kinds of music. I think music can tranquilize you. I think it can improve your brain (and I need all the improvement I can get), but to be able to play the music and enjoy it really does play an important part in my well being. I like to listen to it, and the older I get, the more I like to listen to it. I don’t have to play. I used to just have to play all the time. If somebody else was playing it, it didn’t suit me as well; I wanted to be right in the middle of it.

…

So where do you see fiddle music (and in particular, fiddle tunes), the way it fits into bluegrass, Irish music in Ireland, and so on? Where do you see the fiddle as a voice of folk music?

It’s right in the center of it as far as I’m concerned, and I hate to categorize fiddle music into many boxes. I like to think that I’m maybe a traditional fiddle player, but I don’t like to think of it necessarily as bluegrass or old time or Irish. I like to play Irish tunes, for instance. You know I can’t play Irish like Liz Carroll, but I can play the notes.

Right. You play the tunes your way just like I play the same tunes my way or whatever. You and I are coming from the same school.  I grew up around guys like Buddy Spicher and Howdy Forrester and Benny Martin. A Fritz Kreisler waltz and Scottish hornpipe and a break on “Foggy Mountain Special” and playing Bob Wills tunes were just what fiddle players did. Country, you know like the Tommy Jackson stuff. I didn’t grow up with those distinctions. I just thought of myself as a fiddle player.

That’s exactly my view, and I like to think of it that way. I really didn’t see it categorized or boxed until I started going to some of these teaching camps where they put people in a room and say “This is bluegrass, and over here, it’s old time.”

So I see you at seventy-six as a very vital musician, constantly learning, constantly expanding your horizons, and I see you as an important person as part of a continuum of (for lack of a better word) culture. How do you see yourself in that continuum?

You mention learning new tunes. If I’m not continually expanding and learning something new, I get bored –– that’s part of it. It’s continuing to widen a little bit. I wish I could say that I was continuing to play better and better, but that doesn’t happen when you get older and your fingers get stiff and you get arthritis. It becomes a challenge. But I do feel like it’s something we need to pass on and give back and share, and I think it’s vitally important for us to do that. I think that is, as much as anything, what I do. Of course, I am directly involved with this with my teaching.

In the teaching side of it, it is closer to home. You see the direct impact it can have on the individuals and maybe smaller groups of  people. How do you see the impact of fiddling (music in general) in terms of the direction that Western Civilization has gone?

Wow. You know we don’t know where it’s going, but we know where the music is, and it’s sort of an anchor.

A kind of touchstone.

Yes, a reference point that is fairly constant and dependable. You know the music is going to be there. I can always go get the fiddle and play “Soldier’s Joy,” and I don’t know how many people I’ve taught to play “Soldier’s Joy.” And it’s always going to be done. Every now and then, a new tune gets written, and sometimes it makes it into the mainstream, but it’s not very often. It really has to be something pretty good, doesn’t it? Otherwise it’s only on a CD, and it’s forgotten.

…
[For the rest of this interview, and the tunes “Grasshopper on a Sweet Potato Vine,” “Sally Goodin,” and “The Wise Maid,” subscribe to Fiddler Magazine!]

http://www.dismemberedtennesseans.com
[Jim Wood is a five-time Tennessee Fiddle Champion who performs on fiddle, mandolin, banjo, and guitar with his wife Inge. Their CD “Jim and Inge Wood in Concert: September 24, 2005” was given a rave review in the Fall 2006 issue of Fiddler Magazine. For more information on recordings, concerts, and workshops, please see Jim’s website at http://www.JimWoodMusic.net.]

Maeve Donnelly: Passing on the Tradition

By Tim McCarrick

Maeve Donnelly is one of the top Irish fiddlers performing today. As modest as she is talented, Maeve does not mention her own achievements such as winning All-Ireland Fiddle Competitions, or making critically-acclaimed recordings of traditional Irish music. She talks instead of those who passed the music on to her, and how she can pass it on to the next generation.

It is rare to find her performing on this side of the Atlantic. I caught her exciting performance in March at The Coatesville Traditional Irish Music Series outside of Philadelphia. This interview came after her whirlwind tour of the East Coast, USA.

How was the trip and where did you play?

The trip went fantastically well –– an action-packed ten-day tour of the East Coast. We had a wonderful week. Like all music tours, we traveled long distances to get to some venues. It’s not like Ireland! People in America travel three hours like it’s nothing, but over here in Ireland, three hours is a major expedition! [laughs]

The tour commenced in New Jersey –– a fantastic night. I met many of my musician friends from the Catskills Irish Week in East Durham. The following night we played in Coatesville, Pennsylvania. Then we traveled and played in venues as far away as Rhode Island. We completed the tour in Manhattan with a terrific night in the Glucksman Ireland House.

You and Tony McManus seemed like you’ve played together before –– you played very naturally together.

Well, our first tour together was in Ontario in 2006. Not having played together before I suppose we took a bit of a gamble. Our mutual friend Shelly Romalis suggested that we do a tour together. She has been a great support in organising concerts.

Prior to the tour, I sent Tony a tape of tunes. Then the day before the tour we met and worked out tune arrangements. I suppose you could call it a meeting of the Irish and Scottish influences. We both come from different musical backgrounds. That said, I feel that when the fiddle and guitar blend well together there’s a magic in the music –– it’s special.

Tony performs as a solo guitarist and has vast experience in playing with other musicians and groups. He is adept at playing melody on the guitar and working out different tune arrangements.

When I saw you play, I knew a lot of the people in the audience and I think both you and Tony were inspiring to the musicians out there.

Thank you.

Because it’s easy to see the enthusiasm you both have and that you are having a good time.

Yes. Absolutely.

You could see it in your faces and, hey, if the last note is not perfect, that’s just fine.

[laughing] You know what? When we’re in good playing form, I feel I want to play on and on. This of course may not agree with the original tune program. It’s my impulsive nature coming to the surface.

But what that does for amateur and growing musicians is, they can relate more to your performance. It’s more human and encouraging in that way.

Well as long as we’re not discouraging anybody! The appealing thing about Irish music is no two nights’ performances are the same. [both laugh]

Do you want talk about how you got started playing music?

The first thing to say is that I grew up in a small village called Kylemore, Abbey which is near Loughrea, in County Galway. That’s East Galway. It was an area with a very rich musical heritage. My parents didn’t play music, but were always interested in music and wanted us to play. There was a small fiddle hanging up on the wall in the kitchen. It belonged to my older brother Declan. It was taken down and dusted and handed to me at around the age of five. And that’s how I started on the fiddle. My three brothers and I attended music classes in the local hall. Mal played the accordion, Declan played the fiddle and Aidan, my younger bother, played banjo. [Interviewer’s note: Track 7 of Maeve’s CD, Maeve Donnelly, includes all four of the Donnellys playing together with pianist Geraldine Cotter.]

Traditional music wasn’t an option for me at school. All the more reason for having good music teachers who taught music privately and who were passionate about passing on the music tradition.
 
One very dedicated music teacher was the late Mrs. Mary Donoghue Lyons from Tynagh, Loughrea. She deserves every credit for teaching me music. She taught hundreds of pupils and had a huge music influence on the young people in the area. She devoted her life to music –– teaching as well as playing in a band. She played with her brothers and sisters in a band and they toured England and Ireland. It was unusual for a woman to lead such a musical life at that time as women didn’t go outside the door to play. All their music was played at home.

Mrs. Lyons was a very committed teacher and insisted that her pupils learn to read music and that they hold their instruments correctly. I wasn’t very good at reading the tunes. In many cases, I’d know the tunes already by ear. I felt it was a bit of a drudge, and had no patience for reading music. But Mrs. Lyons insisted that I learn to read and I’m delighted now that she did. I went to music classes from about five. I remember how we all packed into the car every Saturday afternoon and traveled about a mile to the local hall. In the winter-time in the hall, we were frozen solid sitting around one gas heater waiting for our turn to play. It was cold enough to freeze both the brain and the hands –– making it impossible to play. Regular concerts were held in the local halls. We all met there and played a few tunes and had great fun.

We also entered the competitions in the Fleadh Ceols (flah key-ols: music competitions.) We would meet other musicians and enter the duet, trio, or band competitions. I remember entering the duet competition with the powerful flute player Marcus Hernon. We met on the street at the Fleadh and decided we’d compete in the duet competition for a bit of fun. We ended up winning the All-Ireland duet competition at the time without having a scrap of practice. I feel it’s important not to take the competitions too seriously and enjoy playing the music. The Fleadhanna certainly gave me a focus for playing tunes and meeting other musicians from all over Ireland.

Ceilis were popular when growing up in Galway at the time. You know people would cycle or drive for miles to hear bands like the Tulla and Kilfenora (two still-legendary ceili bands from County Clare). The Aughrim Slopes Ceili band was based in the Aughrim/Ballinasloe area of Galway and they recorded some great music in the 1930s.

Later, when I was seventeen, I left Galway and moved to Dublin. I spent three very happy years there. The folk club era was in full swing. Folk clubs like Slattery’s in Capel Street had music sessions every Wednesday night. I remember the first night The Bothy Band performed in Slattery’s –– that’s telling my age now! [laughs] I remember it, but I was very young at the time! I was only a baby!

Of Course! [laughs]

Anyway, I was fortunate to be there at the time as the whole Irish Music scene was buzzing. Bands like Planxty and The Bothy Band created a huge wave of excitement for everybody involved in music. The traditional music was very healthy in Dublin with people like James Kelly, and his brother John and their father John playing there. And there were sessions every week in pubs such as the Four Seasons, O’Donoghues. I didn’t play regularly at any one place, but there were a couple of haunts I would visit. Many of the older musicians who lived in Dublin played in sessions. Young and old people played music –– it had a strong attraction for people. They met and talked, and they kept in contact with one another. So I was never really far from home in terms of music when I was up in Dublin. I was swept away by the music of groups like De Dannan, The Chieftains, Planxty, and The Bothy Band! These groups never took a step too far away from the gutsy true traditional music but at the same time they pushed the boundaries out. Without a shadow of a doubt, traditional music was in a very healthy state in the ’70s.

After college in Dublin, I moved down to Clare. I got a summer job there playing music and twenty-seven years on, I’m still here in Clare. Irish traditional music has always been popular in both counties Clare and Galway. The very close affinity between
Galway and Clare in sport and music has remained strong over the years. It’s a great haven for Irish music and always was.

One of my first introductions to what we now call workshops was at the Willie Clancy Week in Milltown Malbay in the mid-’70s. I attended the workshops during the early years of the Willie Week. Regrettably, I never met Willie, but I knew of him and his music. The Willie Week was always an inspiration and education for me. At that time it was very small. It started with workshops for only fiddles and uileann pipes. I remember meeting pipers from all corners of Ireland –– pipers like Seamus Ennis, Dan Dowd, Andy Conroy to mention but a few. Fiddlers such as Bobby Casey, Joe Ryan, Peadar O’Loughlin, and Junior Crehan encouraged all of us younger musicians. They showed their respect for all the younger fiddlers by sharing their tunes, their time, and their patience with us. It was fantastic and I go back to the Willie Clancy Week whenever I can. Willie Clancy Week was a sort of a seed from which I continued to play.
 
My first introduction to America was in 1976 –– a long time ago now. Twenty-five musicians from Ireland were invited to play at the Bicentennial Festival of American Folklife. At that time in America, Irish music was not as popular as is the case today. If my memory serves me correctly, the Bicentennial Festival was De Danann’s first entry into America –– giving rise to many subsequent tours for the group.

It seems there was a time when you really were not “on the scene” –– not publicly out there playing.

Yes, that’s true. Indeed there were times when I didn’t play “on the scene” publicly. During that time, I continued to play music at home and locally, at sessions with friends. Nothing would hinder my enthusiasm for playing reels and jigs.

I was wondering about Moving Cloud and how it was playing with the two fiddles in the band. Did you have an influence on each other?

Manus (McGuire) is a fantastic fiddle player.We both have very different approaches to the music. Geographically, Manus came from Sligo and has very much a Sligo style of playing. Having played with the group Buttons and Bows, he has a particular interest in music from Cape Breton and the Shetlands. I feel that my music is more heavily influenced by the East Galway style of playing –– focusing primarily on the reels, jigs, and hornpipes. I tend to play a lot of East Galway compositions –– from composers like Paddy Fahy and Paddy Kelly. I would say that our styles complement one another and make the music more interesting.
…

About fiddle workshops, you were talking earlier about going to them, and now you teach them yourself. How do you approach that? Do you teach them a tune or work on ornaments? Both?

Well, in this day and age, when we’re leading lifestyles that require instant remedies and quick fixes, the whole idea of the workshop is to offer somebody a personal approach. Irish music as an “art form” has been passed down from generation to generation. Nowadays, the pace of life is different and so workshops give people an opportunity, at least on a personal level, to meet musicians and listen to their approach to their music. To me, the workshop is a success if musicians go home eager and enthusiastic to play and improve their technique and repertoire.

It’s not just about teaching a tune of course, but you pass down the whole idea of how to approach the music. Without being too philosophical about it, the workshop should sow the seed for what’s to happen later. What sort of things would you think about? From my point of view, you must give a tune space and time. If you don’t give it that space and time, it’s not going to pay you back.

I often ask the question, why do people attend workshops? As a teacher, I hope to bring my musical experience to bear on the lesson. I don’t believe in teaching a new tune just for the sake of having an extra tune to dazzle everybody in the next session. At my workshops, I encourage musicians to sit down and think about the music and what it means to them.

Listening is the core part of being a good musician. Listen to yourself and listen to others, intently. Listen to CDs, go to sessions. Listen, rather than play all the time. And the bowing is always a matter of concern at workshops. Bad habits can be difficult to change.

In competition, we tend to focus on how to improve one or two tunes. In that sense, I’m grateful for the competitions. They force you to learn the tune and play it the best you can. Competitions are a bit nerve-wracking, but at the same time, if you get over that and do it, it’s good to just focus on improving your skill. It’s like a lot of things: you certainly need the technique, but you also need to listen to the phrasing and the rhythm of the tune. It’s very important. It’s a huge area and so rewarding when students see an improvement in their music themselves! Motivation can move mountains!
…

[For the rest of this interview, and the tunes “Laven’s Favorite” and “The Nightingale,” subscribe to Fiddler Magazine!]

http://www.maevedonnelly.com
[Tim McCarrick works as a music editor for J.W.Pepper. He has written about fiddle playing for Mel Bay’s Fiddle Sessions website, and arranged music for the educational market. He also runs the Irish Fiddle wesbite which he promises to update more often! (http://www.irishfiddle.com)]

 

How to Make a Recording

By Bob Carlin

It seems these days like everyone is making a recording. This once exclusive “rite of passage” marking the move from amateur to professional status is now well within the reach of even the most beginner musicians. It’s as if Andy Warhol’s comment that “everyone will have their fifteen minutes of fame” has morphed into “everyone will have a CD for fifteen minutes.”

The purpose of this piece is to help guide you through the recording process, and to serve as an aid for when you make your first (or next) recording. I’ve tried to speak as broadly as possible to maximize the usefulness of this information for the widest number of readers. Additionally, since there are currently so many choices of gear available I’ve avoided naming too many of my favorites because there are lots of others that work just as well. And most of you don’t need to know why something works, just that it does the intended job for you.

Some of these concepts you’ll already know if you’ve made a CD or two and others you’ll be reading for the first time. My hope is that everyone can come away with something from this tome that will improve their next recording experience.

This article is divided into nine sections:
1. “A Concise History of the Recording Business” gives some background on the evolution of recording equipment.
2. “Producers and Engineers” talks about these two important people in the recording process.
3. “How Much Does This Cost” discusses planning a recording budget toward making an affordable recording.
4. “Preparing to Record” talks about rehearsing and putting your instruments in good working order.
5. “Noise vs. Music” explores the recording space.
6. “Equipment and Space” gets into hardware.
7. “Mixing” is about combining tracks in a neutral environment.
8. “Yes, Master” talks about the final step in the making of your CD.
9. “Recording a Fiddle” is a sidebar that explores the details specific to micing up a single fiddle.

A Concise History of the Recording Business

When I started out in music, I was lucky my father always had some kind of recording device around the house. First, it was a two-armed disc cutter that he built himself (one arm etched a groove into the disc and the other played it back). Later, he bought a series of reel to reel tape recorders that I could use to save my nascent efforts at music making. In high school, I used a crude setup of a battery-powered four channel mixer, several Shure brand PA microphones (probably SM 57 and 58s, still in use today) and a two track deck with “sound on sound” (i.e., the ability to overdub and add tracks to existing music) to make tapes of my friends’ songwriting. My first official demo was made in an acquaintance’s basement that not only provided the PA for our local rock festivals (Voice of the Theatre speakers and all) but also had a recording studio with Ampex tape machines just like those used by the pros. Throughout college and afterwards, I used a combination of gear from the radio stations and sound companies for whom I worked to make recordings of the various bands to which I belonged. So, when it came time for my first real “professional” band, the Delaware Water Gap, to make a record (in those days, an LP), I’d already had years of experience learning the ins and outs of the recording process.

In those days, the idea of making an album in a professional recording studio seemed nearly impossible for my bands. Not only were these studios only available to those musicians with a major label contract and expensive beyond our means (and the means of everyone else except the headliners on the folk/acoustic/bluegrass/string band/roots music performing circuit we were traveling), it wasn’t until the Delaware Water Gap had been together five years that the independent record labels willing to bankroll and issue our recordings had come into existence. These labels only began to appear in any number once the technology began to change so that recordings could begin to be made in more homegrown (and therefore less expensive) environments.

First, low cost open reel recorders became available. These machines used various methods to squeeze multiple tracks onto narrower tape. Next, ADAT recorders that converted the audio into digital information and saved the files onto videotape were introduced. At the same time, microphone mixers became smaller and more affordable as well.

When my band the Water Gap finally recorded our first album, it was in one of those semi-professional studios with the new generation of low-cost equipment. It wasn’t until our second LP that we got to enter a purpose-built professional studio, which was only affordable for us because we had a friend in the business.

Most recently, all recording is moving over to computers running various software/hardware combos like Pro Tools, Nuendo, Digital Performer and the like, which store the audio on hard drives instead of tape. When it comes time for you to make your first (or next) project, it is most likely that you will be committing your performances in a digital form to a computer.

Producers and Engineers

The good news is that recording, like any skill, can be learned with observation, study and practice. The bad news is that recording, like any skill, takes time and experience to learn. Over time, your violin/fiddle playing becomes better because of practice. So does your ability to make good listenable and marketable recordings.

Even if you become skilled at making good recordings yourself, you might still want to enlist the help of professionals. This frees you up to concentrate on making music. One of these people, called an “engineer,” has the knowledge to handle the technical side of committing your art to a savable medium. This includes broadly understanding the different types of microphones,
pre-amplifiers, effects, recording spaces and software used in the process of making your CD (that is, capturing your performances to tape or to a computer and then mixing/assembling the performances onto the two tracks known as “stereo”). A good engineer may additionally be able to fix an errant electronic problem in a pinch, play that missing riff that just completes your musical vision, or make the best cup of coffee you’ve had all week. The other person, commonly called a “producer,” will understand the process of record making and will have the ability to guide you through that process from rehearsals to finished CD. A producer provides everything from an objective ear to management of day to day details to communicating with the engineer in a language he/she understands (“no, man, make the bass BLUER”). Good engineers and producers have great ears and can hear things that most musicians can’t.

You should choose a producer and an engineer by their skills and their empathy toward your musical vision. Listen to what else they’ve engineered/produced and talk with them about your project. You shouldn’t hire a musician to produce your record just because they’ve sold lots of records or you want them to play on your album.

Some musicians assume that the engineer they hire to oversee the technical side of the recording will assume the role of producer. Actually, some producers like to do their own engineering (and many like myself can also fill the role of an engineer), with some functions, like setting microphones and determining the recorded sound of the instruments, overlapping between the two jobs. Because the technical side of watching levels, the performance of equipment, and the quality of the sound appears to use a different part of the brain than listening to the performance, I prefer to concentrate on either engineering or producing. Whenever I attempt to do both at the same time, I get REALLY tired REALLY fast (and cranky as well; just ask my clients). Ultimately, I just find that engineering and producing at the same time requires a degree of multi-tasking and task-switching of which I’m not capable.

Besides the difficulty of doing both jobs at the same time, many engineers do not want to have to comment on a performance (“was that any good?”), do not have a familiarity with your music before you enter the recording environment, don’t want to be producers, and aren’t being paid to take on both jobs. Make sure that you’ve discussed these roles up front and don’t assume that a hired engineer will do any more than engineer. If the engineer is also producing, expect to pay him or her for both roles.

…

Recording a Fiddle

There are many different fiddles and fiddlers in the world, and so one must adjust to each one. Here are some starting points for recording a fiddle:

A number of methods and microphones are used to record a fiddle. While some engineers like to use two mics, either in a stereo configuration in front of the instrument or one facing front and the other facing the back, I like to keep things simple and use one microphone.

First, I will cover one ear with my other ear facing toward the instrument, and move around, listening to the various ways the fiddle will sound depending on mic placement. I also listen in the control room to see how it sounds over the speakers. Unless you want a lot of bow noise, you will need to place your microphone at least six to nine inches away from the face of the instrument.

Next, somewhat dependent on how I want the instrument to sound (natural or emphasizing/deemphasizing certain frequencies) I will choose a microphone. Normally, I will try a large diaphragm ribbon or tube microphone over a condenser, as the ribbon and tube will smooth over some of the high overtones and extraneous bow noise.

Of course, it’s totally subjective about how you want the instrument to sound. I usually start with the natural sound of the fiddle and then diminish the high overtones, especially on those fiddles balanced toward the high end, with mic choice and placement.

Recently, I worked with a group where the violin being used was extremely bright (but not in an unpleasant way) with a strong, brilliant high end. Left to my own devices, I would have chosen to accurately reproduce the way the instrument sounded. But the group wanted some of the highs taken off, so I chose a microphone and mic position accordingly.

I will revisit the sound of the fiddle once I get the rest of the instruments miced up, as you want to make sure that you deemphasize the frequencies that the fiddle shares with other instruments. This will give you better separation between the fiddle and other instruments in the ensemble when it comes time to mix.

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[Bob Carlin has participated in over seventy-five recordings as producer, performer, engineer, and compiler. His resulting three Grammy nominations include two albums of fiddling by the late John Hartford:Wild Hog in the Red Brush and Hamilton Ironworks (both on Rounder Records). Bob’s website is http://www.bobcarlinmusic.com.]

The Legacy of Angus Chisholm of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia

By Chrissy Crowley

There is a saying in Cape Breton, often used when discussing the playing abilities of different up-and-coming fiddlers: “Aye, they’re good, but they’re no Angus.” To be considered “an Angus” is a rare and almost unheard-of compliment. The legendary Cape Breton fiddler Angus Chisholm is the “Angus” to whom the quote refers. He is revered by many of the great fiddlers of today such as Natalie MacMaster, Ashley MacIsaac, Cameron Chisholm, and Dwayne Cote, just to name a few. Angus Chisholm has had a great impact on these fiddlers, during and after his time. He played with a style and grace at a level of virtuosity that others greatly admired and envied. Pianists would often shy away from accompanying the fiddle master, anticipating the intricate melodies and complicated arrangements he would perform. Fr. John Angus Rankin told of a night in Antigonish where Angus played an exhausting one-hour medley, attempting to impress a local Scottish-music enthusiast.

Angus was born in Margaree Forks, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia in 1908. When Angus was eight the Chisholm household received a visit from local fiddler Johnny Stephen, a.k.a Johnny White, who was teaching Angus’ brother Danny, and it was during a break in the lesson that Angus picked up the instrument. That simple first step set a path for the young musician that ultimately led to wide recognition as one of the best Celtic fiddlers in the world. Johnny White saw talent in the boy, and spent the day teaching him the tune “The Cock of the North.” Angus later received a fiddle from his brother Willie D., who bought the instrument from a horse trader for fifteen dollars. In the words of Angus: “It wasn’t worth fifteen cents, let alone fifteen dollars, but it was the one I learned on; I had to start somewhere.”

Angus learned and played by ear, gaining a great repertoire of tunes by listening to his sisters “jig” [lilt/sing] the melody for him. When he was fourteen a man named Jimmy MacInnis of Big Pond, Cape Breton, came to stay with the family for a year.
MacInnis had studied classical music. He showed Angus more complicated dynamics and taught him techniques such as positioning. Angus referred to these as the best lessons he had ever learned. MacInnis also taught Angus how to read music; Angus used these skills to learn the tune “Stack of Barley.”

Locals realized the potential of the young boy, as he improved rapidly. He played his first dance at such a young age his sister had to hold his hand. He played at different schoolhouse dances and kitchen parties. Angus went on to become a schoolteacher, and spent years teaching in Cape Breton and was also, for a time, a park warden at the Cape Breton Highlands National Park. He came to know the best fiddlers on the island, learning from each one. He took careful note of Angus Allan Gillis’ bowing and Mary MacDonald’s cuts. Along with Gillis, and other great fiddlers,

Angus was among the first Cape Bretoners to make a 78 rpm recording of Scottish music, around 1934. He went to the United States and played for a recording company, and the records were made commercially available. He then went to Montreal to make recordings for the Brunswick Recording Company.

Angus Chisholm’s name and talent grew as he performed throughout Canada and the United States. He mesmerized crowds with his skillful bowing and graceful fingering, always in perfect unison, as he attacked intricate tunes such as “Tullochgorum” by J.S. Skinner. Despite his overall skill in all the tunes he played, Angus had a preference for challenging clogs and hornpipes. He won so many fiddle competitions that promoters barred him from entering more.

Angus moved to Boston during the later years of his life. He returned to Canada now and then to perform in concerts and on various television programs, one being the show of the late John Allan Cameron. Following his uncle’s lead, Angus’ nephew Cameron Chisholm moved into prominence as a virtuoso fiddler in Cape Breton. Cameron was usually accompanied by his sister Maybelle Chisholm, an outstanding pianist, and sometimes performed with his sister Margaret, another fiddler known for her strathspeys.

Angus passed away in the United States in 1979, and was laid to rest in his native Margaree. His influence remains strong to this day as a new generation of fiddlers carry on the tradition, honouring earlier artists such as Angus who set such a high standard of excellence.

[Chrissy Crowley is a seventeen-year-old fiddler living in the Margaree area of Cape Breton. Following the footsteps of her great uncle Angus Chisholm, Chrissy has recently released her debut recording. For more information, please visit http://www.chrissycrowley.com.]