Spring 1998
ARTICLES
COLUMNS
- On Improvisation: Secret of Bowing;
- Old Time Tunes;
- Cross Tuning, Part Seven;
- The Irish Fiddler;
- Fiddle Care;
- Books & Videos;
- Recordings;
- And more!
TUNES
- La Gigue a Cogne Picard;
- Reel d'Issoudun;
- La Cadence a Ti-Jules;
- Jumpin' the Strings;
- Mason's Apron;
- Fiveplay.
ARTICLEEXCERPTS
Guy Bouchard: On Québec Fiddling and Fiddlers
By Laurie HartGuy Bouchard is a guitarist, singer and fiddler who lives in Val-Bélair,
near Québec City. Although not primarily a performer, Guy has done,
in his words, "everything you can do with traditional music" for
twenty years. His involvement has touched all aspects of the music scene,
from hosting radio shows and directing festivals to collecting and researching
music, dance and song, as well as producing and distributing books, videos
and recordings. Guy was a member of the well-loved group La Bottine souriante
from 1979-1982, and played on their second album. This influential group
(the name translates to The Smiling Boot) is still going strong, and recently
celebrated its 20th anniversary.
In the interview Guy mentions American fiddler and ethnomusi-cologist
Lisa Ornstein, who lived for ten years in Québec and is a major figure
in research, teaching, promotion and performance of Québecs instrumental
music. Guy also talks about some of the great Québécois fiddlers
he has known: André Alain (b. 1931), Jules Verret (1916-1982), Jean
Carignan (1916-1988) and Louis Boudreault (1905-1988). Currently Guy runs
a mail-order distribution company with his wife Laura Sadowsky, called Thirty
Below, offering CDs, tapes, books and videos of Québécois
traditional music, song and dance to people around the world.
How did you get interested in Québecs traditional music? Did
you learn about this music from recordings?
I first learned about this music from other people. I had been playing
folk guitar for many years, backing up French- and English-Canadian folk
songs, when I met Aurel Quinn, a colorful accordion player from Sault-au-Mouton
on the North coast. He was a man who had spent most of his life hunting
and trapping. We worked together at that time (1974) in the same recreational
outdoors center and I played guitar with him for all the participants after
dinner every night. Just after that period, I moved to Baie-Comeau where
I did some filming of traditional musicians. Among them was a lady who played
"La Grande gigue simple," and I was astonished by the beauty and
all the feeling in her fiddling. I told myself, if she can do that, I may
be able to do it, too. Im still tryingá
There were not a whole lot of recordings available at that time, and
I hadnt even thought of listening to old 78s. But many companies released
records in the coming years, and my friends and I collected them eagerly.
Like many traditional musicians of my generation, I had some direct contact
with this music (which was really a part of everyday life for the generation
just before ours) but I also learned tunes from recordings.
How did you learn to play fiddle?
After those field filming sessions, I flew to Montréal, bought
a fiddle and flew back home. I didnt even know how to tune the instrument.
I looked in books and discovered that it was tuned like a mandolin. So I
started learning tunes on the mandolin and tried to finger them on the fiddle.
I didnt know any other fiddlers at the time and it was only when I moved
to the Québec City area a couple of years later that I met Lisa Ornstein
and realized that I was using unconventional fingerings. So I started all
over again. And I still use my little finger for G# on the D string! At
the beginning, I was just trying to play tunes that were already in my head,
and some of Louis Boudreaults repertoire.
Was there a tradition of music in your family or in the place you
grew up?
I grew up in the east part of Montréal in a working class neighborhood
and music was certainly not part of our life when I was young. The only
traditional music I can remember was from my mothers side. Our cousins,
the Morins, would come on New Years Day. They were great singers and accordion
players. I later realized that my mother knew all those songs and that she
has a very nice voice. I then learned many nice melodies from her. My mother
grew up in the Joliette area, a region renowned for its rich song repertoire.
When I first heard Gilles Cantin sing in La Bottine, I said, "Hey,
those are my mothers songs!" But I cant remember having heard any fiddle
music before the age of twenty.
What is or was the relationship between traditional music and nationalism?
I guess you mean "political" nationalism. After the 1960s when
Québec went into the "Quiet Revolution" and when the separatist
movement was growing, the 70s brought a strong current of nationalism and
everything associated with Québec was suddenly very valued and popular.
The traditional music was part of it and many pop singers would use traditional
songs to make a hit.
I remember the first major "folk festival" [in Montréal
around 1975] that had a mix of young folk groups and older traditional musicians.
Some young folk groups would say that they were playing "la musique
du peuple" [peoples music] or "la musique des travailleurs"
[working class music]. I also remember being asked to play with a Québec
flag behind us on the stage. The political movement was trying to use the
music as an image for promoting separatism. But I never accepted that. I
and many other musicians, young and old, refused to associate the music
that we love with any political movement. That does not mean that we were
(are) not separatists; we just did not want to involve music with it.
On the other hand, we felt that "cultural" nationalism clearly
included this music. The nationalist movement certainly helped groups like
Le Rêve du diable and La Bottine souriante become very
popular, and brought this music to wider audiences. After the "no"
vote on the referendum in the early 1980s, the phenomenon suddenly faded
away and most traditional music groups disappeared. La Bottine then
began to play more often outside Québec in order to survive. The
music is not really associated anymore with nationalism, which is good for
it and for us.
Who were the fiddlers who influenced you most in your music?
First Louis Boudreault, André Alain and Jules Verret, but also
younger friends with whom I was learning, like Martin Racine and Daniel
Lemieux. Lisa Ornstein was always a source of inspiration. I shared a big
house with Lisa and two other friends and we were often ten or more for
dinner. Musicians travelling from everywhere just popped in and stayed for
a couple of days. There was always music in that house.
Jules Verret, the great fiddler, was your fishing partner. Did you
play tunes with him too?
For a long time, I never told Mr. Verret that I played fiddle. I was
probably too shy to play in front of him. I used to play my guitar with
him sometimes and I remember having a very hard time trying to back up his
repertoire, which was so different from anything that I had heard before.
He had an incredible memory and was able to play any of his 1,000 tunes
off the top of his head. He was quite a fisherman, tooá
How did you meet André Alain, and what was it like recording
his music? [Guy helped produce Alains only recording, André Alain:
Violoneux de St-Basile-de-Portneuf, in 1986.]
I cant remember exactly when I first met him but he was part of our lives
for years. He had a little apartment in old Québec City not far from
André Marchand, and we would spend our days around there playing
music in the street or around a beer in his little kitchen. André
Marchand, Danielle Martineau (who was directing a folk center at that time)
and I realized that it was a must to record him. André Alain was
quite a "wild" fiddler and we figured that it would be impossible
to record him in a studio. At that time, he had spent a lot of time playing
with Pierre Laporte. So we went to Alains house (he had moved back to his
native St-Basile), invited Pierre and brought all the recording equipment.
We recorded the whole thing in two days.
Did you ever meet Jean Carignan?
I first met him in his house near Montréal. We spent a whole day,
sharing dinner and good wine with this simple man who had an incredibly
strong character. It was very strange, because I had heard him on stage
and on records before, and I was not a big fan of his, but the first time
I heard him play up close in a small room I had to go out of the roomáit
was so beautiful that it was impossible not to cry! I cant describe it.
That has never happened to me again, with anybody. It was as if every note
he played was tied to a star.
Another thing that I remember about him was that he stopped playing in
public because he said that he was going deaf. But one time I was with Lisa
Ornstein at his house and she was trying to practice some bowing that he
had shown her that afternoon. He was talking with us in another noisy room
when he suddenly stopped and shouted to Lisa that her bow was in the wrong
direction in a certain place in the tune! Not bad for someone who said that
he was going deaf!
How about Louis Boudreault?
I heard Louis Boudreault for the first time in Montréal at a festival
around 1975. I was flabbergasted! An incredible storyteller, he had a fiddling
style and energy that were magic. He played with such intensity that I could
hear his entire life in his playing. Above all, he had an incredibly complex
rhythm which came from the dancing in the Saguenay region, which almost
always included step-dancing. His tone was not crystal clear, the notes
and the scale he used sounded very strange (and even wrong to some ears)
but his music was passionate and emotional.
Are there older fiddlers out there who have interesting styles or
repertoires that are still unrecorded?
Yes, but probably not many of them. I am currently working with Yvon
Mimeault, a great fiddler from Mont-Louis (on the Gaspé Peninsula),
to help him record this coming winter. He has a unique style and many of
his tunes dont have any known sources. Eddy Whalen from Stoneham, north
of Québec City, is another one. They are both nearly 70 years old.
How has the button accordion affected the repertoire?
The accordion was adopted by many players, especially in and around big
cities, around the end of the 19th century. The accordion became very popular,
and today, it has become as important as the fiddle. In certain regions,
you will find twenty accordions for one fiddle. If you go to contests and
galas, you will probably hear about the same ratio. The music moved out
of the kitchen, and because the accordion was louder and easier to play,
it attracted more and more players.
I feel that the marriage between fiddle and accordion has not always
been easy. The accordion has limited range and keys. Fiddlers have had to
change notes, scales or keys in order to play together. The accordion is
now so popular that its the fiddlers who learn tunes from the accordion
players. Philippe Bruneau, Marcel Messervier, Yves Verret, Denis Pépin,
Stéphane Landry and Sabin Jacques have a major influence on the music,
and accordionists compose most of the new repertoire. There is rarely a
dance without an accordion and its often the main instrument that people
dance to.
Lets talk a little about the fiddle style. What kind of ornaments
do fiddlers use?
It depends on the region and the player. Some use a big vibrato on longer
notes instead of a roll, or tricky bowed triplets. Some use very few ornaments
but emphasize the dance rhythm itself.
How about drones, do you use them most of the time?
Yes, especially for older tunes.
Is the bowing mostly single bows rather than slurs?
The bowing can be very unusual. I would say that there are more single
bows than slurs but it varies. Sometimes we use two consecutive up-bow strokes
for a repeated note.
The music is very buoyant in Québec. Do you get that sound
by bouncing the bow right off the string?
That is certainly a characteristic of the style. Most of the players
will take the bow off the string here and there, bouncing and playing with
the dynamics of the instrument. Many certainly use the middle part of their
bows to get that bouncing feeling in the music.
To better describe the style, I would say that the accent is not on the
off-beat as it is in many other Celtic-based fiddle styles. Good players
move the accent around to any eighth note of a group of four.
Can you describe the back-up style?
The piano and guitar back-up styles have developed in very different
directions. First of all, before 1950, there was very little chordal accompaniment,
only percussion [bones, spoons, feet] if anything. The complex chromatic
style that is today considered the Québec piano style suits the modern
repertoire very well, but, in my opinion, is not as good for the older Celtic
repertoire.
The guitar style uses standard tuning and a lot of open strings. Like
the fiddler, the guitarist does not emphasize the off-beat but the down-beat.
The style was developed by a group of guitarists (myself included) who were
only trying to listen to the fiddle tunes and follow them in the most respectful
way. We sometimes feel the guitar doesnt suit the more modern quadrille
repertoire as well as it does the old Celtic fiddle tunes.
What are the fiddle contests like in Québec?
I havent been to one in fifteen years but I hear that its quite strict.
You have to play three or four kinds of tunes (waltz, 6/8, reel) at a certain
tempo, with a very clean tone, and only certain kinds of tunes are allowed.
Yvon Mimeault recently told me that he lost points because he is a lefty
who plays on a right-handed fiddle! This gives you an idea of the criteria
they use for picking a winner. I have never liked the idea of competition
in music.
Does traditional music get taught in the schools?
This music is nowhere in our educational system, and its not recognized
or valued. It is still considered backward by the intellectuals, and many
young people are still shy to admit that they love or even play this music.
A great young accordion player told me recently that nobody in his class
knows that he plays, yet he is well-known among musicians all around the
province!
A couple of years ago, I had to work hard to get Laval University to
bring in Irish fiddler Martin Hayes for a noon workshop with the violin
students, for free! The administration just did not consider this to be
something valuable. However, some people are trying to change that mentality.
It is changing somewhat in Joliette, where La Bottine is based.
Who are your favorites among the current generation of fiddlers?
Pierre and Rémi Laporte, André Brunet, Michel Bordeleau,
Martin Racine, Daniel Lemieux, Jean-Marie Verret, Eric Favreau, Mario LandryáThere
are many very good players with different styles.
Tell us about your distribution company, Thirty Below.
Friends and I had been talking about this idea for almost twenty years,
and three years ago, I had the opportunity to finally do it. The main idea
was to provide a central source for distributing this music outside Québec.
It had a lot to do with the fact that people outside the province realize
the importance of this music more than people at home. We hope people from
outside will gradually help people here to realize the richness of their
culture. We also started this service for the musicians themselves to help
them spread their music and make a living, or at least be able to get some
work or some money from their products.
It has turned out quite well and we now send some of this music to Australia
as well as Israel and Japan! We use the Internet as a big part of our publicity
and the whole catalogue is now available on our web site. Unfortunately,
the Internet is not very developed in France and in many other countries,
and its still difficult to reach all the people who might be interested
in this music. Most of our business is directed to the States where this
music is becoming more and more known and appreciated.
Do you have any advice for beginners to fiddling or beginners to Québécois
music?
You have to be in love with the music. Find some friends to play with
and the most important thing is to have fun. Some great fiddlers whom I
have met were a bit shy to play Québécois music because they
were not from here and they thought they were not doing it right. But I
think it is always a pleasure to hear our music in a different way. Its
a tribute to the people who have been playing it for centuries.
[Thanks to Laura Sadowsky for her help with this interview.]

Byron Berline : Gracing the Strings
By Paul Jacobs
For more than thirty years, Byron Berlines graceful fiddle playing
has been featured on dozens of recordings by artists as diverse as Bill
Monroe, the Rolling Stones, and Henry Mancini. Born in Caldwell, Kansas,
and raised in Oklahoma, Byron was influenced early on by his father, Lue
Berline, a championship old time fiddler, to take up the fiddle and make
a career in music. Along the way, Byron became a highly sought-after session
player and a triple-threat instrumentalist (fiddle, guitar and mandolin).
After spending twenty-six years in California, Byron is now living
in Guthrie, Oklahoma, operating Byrons Double Stop Music Shop and Music
Hall, selling instruments and putting on shows: "Its working out better
than I expected, to tell you the truth. I didnt really know what to expect,
but its just been a lot of fun." His new recording with the Byron Berline
Band, Live at the Music Hall, is a mix of traditional fiddle tunes,
bluegrass and swing: "Were kind of tickled with it," says Byron.
This interview was conducted by telephone in October, 1997. With folks
coming into the fiddle shop, Byron kindly took an hour from his workday
to answer my questions.
How old were you when you started playing?
Well, I learned my first tune, I remember, when I was about five. My
dad was a fiddler, see, soá
Right, your father was a pretty famous old time fiddlerá
Yeah, he won his share of contests and stuff. Lue Berline. I dont remember
not playing; it was always around us. I was the youngest one of five kids,
and none of them played fiddle; they played other instruments but not fiddle.
And he always wanted one of us to play the fiddle, so I was his last chance!
You were elected.
Yeah.
Well, I think he made the right choice.
Oh, Ive enjoyed it tremendously. Its a lot of fun.
So you started when you were five °° did you keep up all through
your youth and adolescence?
Oh, yeah, sure. My dad would take me to contests all around, mainly in
Oklahoma, and he kept talking about these Texas fiddlers he remembered,
like Major Franklin °° he knew him. Of course he liked Howdy Forrester
°° we used to listen to [him on] the Grand Ol Opry. He liked Arthur
Smiths fiddle playing. But we finally got to go to a contest back in New
Mexico when I was about sixteen years old. And a lot of the Texas fiddlers
were there. We went to Hail Center, Texas, which is down by Plainview, Texas,
and thats where I got to meet all the Texas type fiddlers °° The
Solomons, The Franklins, and Benny Thomasson, Eck Robertson. It was great
to be able to hear those types of fiddlers when I was fifteen or sixteen
years old, and that kind of changed my whole outlook. My dad played almost
that style but didnt improvise as much. He was a little more straight-ahead
fiddler. But then the only albums you could listen to back when I was growing
up were Tommy Jackson square dance-type records. And Howdy Forrester had
a couple of them out. So thats where I learned a lot of my tunes from. And
as you travel around a little more, which I did, you just pick up stuff
from other fiddlers. But they were all big influences, all those Texas fiddlers.
Then of course bluegrass came along, and all of those fiddlers °°
Kenny Baker, Chubby Wise, all the Bill Monroe fiddlers.
When you got into bluegrass, coming from old time music, from what
I understand you went out and played in Newport with your dad in 1965.
Yes. Both of us played fiddle. We had Jim Rooney and Bill Keith
back us up on the main stage. We got to jamming with them, so they were
nice enough to back us up. So we had pretty good help there. That was where
I met Bill Monroe °° at that festival °° and thats when
he asked me to join his band, which I did later, in 1967. I was with him
for about seven months.
And then Uncle Sam asked you to join him. What was it like playing
with Monroe for those seven months?
Oh, it was really good. Of course, every time we drove the bus, it would
break down.
Oh, thats why they call it the "Bluegrass Breakdown."
Yeah. I dont care if we drove fifty miles, the thing would break down,
something would go wrong with it. But I had a real good time. Bill was great
to get along with. Id have to ask him, "Bill, am I doing things okay?"
And hed say, "Yeah, youre doing fine."
You recorded three sides with him, right before you went off to the
Army °° "Virginia Darling," "Gold Rush," and
"Sally Goodin." Do you remember anything in particular about that
session?
I remember the whole thing, really. It was quite an exciting moment for
me to be able to do that. I remember we all stood in a semi-circle, each
of us had our own mic, and we had three hours to do it in. They were very
strict in Nashville, you know, they went by the clock, and they tried to
get a song an hour, which they did. We wanted to do "Train 45."
We had that ready to record and we ran out of time. Now you can just book
the studio as long as you want, but thats the way they did it back in those
days. A three-hour slot and thats it °° you do all you can in three
hoursá But we just stood in a semi-circle, and it was interesting
the way it came out. We didnt use any earphones or anything like that, we
just stood up there and played.
How about the tune "Gold Rush"? I always thought you were
responsible for that tune.
I helped with that. Bill and I both came up with that. I think he had
the original idea of it. To me, it wasnt much of a tune, I didnt think at
the time, because it wasnt really up-tempo °° it wasnt slow
by any means, but it wasnt real fast like "Roanoke" or
"Rawhide," some of those instrumentals that hes more known
for. Yeah, I helped him do that. I didnt think anything about it at the
time, as far as writing credit, it didnt even dawn on me.
I think that tune has gone on to be part of all kinds of bluegrass
players and jammers repertoires. Are you ever surprised to go and hear that
at a jam at a festival, everybody playing "Gold Rush"?
No, Im not surprised. The reason it took off is because banjo players
love it. Anybody likes it. Its a fairly simple tune, easy to learn. Its
one of those that people just kind of grab onto.
Sometimes people even choreograph their body movements to the syncopation
°° do you notice that?
Oh, sure. Thats when the wagon hit the rocká
After you left Bill Monroe, you went into the Army for a little while.
Did you continue to play?
I was lucky enough to get to play for a colonel who liked country music.
In fact, it was about the fifth week of basic training that they had a thing
called "Family Day," and they wanted to get together a little
band from our company, so they put me in charge of that. There werent any
musicians in that whole company that you could say were musicians. So I
asked my company commander if I could get some people to come help me play,
and he says, "Hey, youre running it, you do what you want." So
I called up the Stone Mountain Boys out of Dallas °° Alan Munde
was playing banjo with them at the time, and they were guys I had jammed
with a lot when I was in college. So they brought a fiddle over for me,
this one Saturday morning, and we played for our company, and there was
this colonel, Colonel Reed, and he loved country music. So he heard us play
and he just flipped out about it, and came running over, saying, "Oh,
gosh, youve got to play for the General, you got to do this, you got to
do that." So he told the General, and I ended up playing for the Officers
Ball about the next week. I didnt get to use [the Stone Mountain Boys] °° I
just played by myself pretty much °° I think there were some people
from Special Services there. Thats what I wanted to do, get into Special
Services, and luckily it all worked out. They put me in Special Services,
so I just stayed there, Fort Polk, Louisiana, for almost two years, which
I was thankful to do, during that time.
Yes, indeed °° that was a rough time to be in the Army. Going
back a little ways, before you got with Monroe, you were able to record
with the Dillards.
Thats right. I met them its always some significant day, it seems
like, when things happen °° I met them the day President Kennedy
was killed. November 22, 1963. They came to the University of Oklahoma.
It was on a Friday, and they were doing a thing called "Friday at Four,"
a folk music show, and I was on that show also. Right before they went on,
somebody introduced me to them, and I talked to Doug mainly, the banjo player,
and he said, "Well, when we get through, Id like to hear you play."
So I went out and watched their show, and it was real exciting °° Id
never heard anything like it, really, up to that point. After they finished
their show, I found them back in one of the rooms at the student union,
and we jammed for a couple of hours °° just one fiddle tune after
the other. They loved that kind of stuff, so then they asked me to record
with them that next summer.
Ive got the record right here in my hands, its The Dillards with
Byron Berline, Pickin and Fiddlin on Electra, and its all fiddle tunes.
Did they know all those tunes or did you have to teach them some of them?
I had to teach them some of them. Mainly they knew them.
So did you go out and tour with them after that?
I stayed with them for about four or five weeks out there when I went
out to do that album, and toured around with them some. It was a lot of
fun. It was a thrill for me to do that.
So after you got out of the Armyá
Doug Dillard called me the day before I got out of the Army, and
asked me to come out and record. I had intended to go back to Nashville.
But I went out [to California]. I was out there four days and ended up doing
other session work, movie scores and what have you, and they wanted me to
move out there, too, so thats what I did.
And after you got out here, the session work really took off
for you.
Yeah, well the Rolling Stones thing helped.
Thats probably the first time I heard you play, on that album
Let It Bleed in 69 °° "Country Honk."
Gram Parsons suggested to them to get me to play on it, and I just
barely knew him. This was in October of 69, about the same time. But anyway,
I was back in Oklahoma here, getting ready to move out there on a permanent
basis, and they called me up one evening and wanted me to come out. So they
flew me out, picked me up, and we went up in the Hollywood Hills there °°
they had a house rented, and we stayed there for a few minutes, then we
went down to the studio, Electra Studios, in L.A. I was in the studio for
a couple of passes through, and they said, "Hey, we want you to come
in, we want to talk to you," and I thought, oh, they dont like it,
theyre going to dump it. But I went in and they said, "We want you
to stand outside in the street on the sidewalk and record it °°
well get a nice ambiance, we think," and I kind of giggled and said,
"Well, whatever you want to do." So thats what we did. Thats where
they got the car horn.
How were they to work with?
Oh, great. People were just experimenting around with music, and
mixing different instruments, you know, rock and roll with bluegrass instruments,
traditional instruments.
Rock and roll was very young back then. It wasnt too far removed
from Elvis. And bluegrass was very young back then, too °° it
wasnt very far removed from Lester and Earl and the Bluegrass Boys.
Thats right. Everybody was just trying different things. I think people
still are, but that was the beginning of it. The Doors even used Jessie
McReynolds right before that on a cut. They were all down at that session,
by the way. The Doors came down, Bonnie Bramlet was thereá There
were a lot of people down there partying with them.
What was it like to go from being in the presence of guys like Eck
Robertson, Benny Thomasson, folks like that, and playing with the Dillards
and Monroe, to playing with the rockers?
Well, it was a big change. The music is closely related, but you had
to really study it in a way. Be able to improvise enough to get by with
it. And naturally, playing with Monroe, I listened as much as I could to
his past recordings, to see what those fiddlers did, how they approached
it. You couldnt just get up there and start sawing away. You had to stay
with the melody, and do what he wanted. Hed let you know if something was
really off line. But for me he was easy to work with. Other people wont
say that, but I had a good time with him. He just loved the old time tunes.
He always featured me on the Grand Ol Opry every time we got on there °°
hed have a fiddle tune.

Sean McGuire : Master of the Irish Violin
By Ken Perlman
It was not very long after I started exploring Irish music in the early
1970s that I began to hear about an almost legendary fiddle player named
Sean McGuire. Tunes were named for him, accom-plished players spoke in awe
of his technical prowess, and he was credited with composing what appeared
to be a finger-twisting set of variations on the common tune "Masons
Apron," some of which even highly developed players failed to pull
off with much success.
It was not until some twenty-five years later when I had an opportunity
to meet McGuire and see him play that I began to fully appreciate his role
in the development of the modern Irish traditional music revival. I also
came to view him as a figure of great personal courage Ö a man who
could re-train himself to talk after losing his voice-box to throat cancer,
then carry on with his busy teaching and performing career as if nothing
had happened.
McGuire was born in 1928 in the Belfast region of Northern Ireland. He
grew up surrounded Ö within both his family and community Ö by
the traditional music of his homeland. When he expressed interest in playing
the violin, however, he was sent to a classical teacher. Such was his aptitude
for the instrument, that he was soon receiving the kind of training that
is only available to those being groomed for an orchestral or concert career.
As a teenager, he was made first violinist in the Belfast Youth Orchestra;
as a young adult he was invited to join the Belfast Symphony Orchestra.
McGuire never felt quite at home with the classical repertoire. Instead,
he found deep within himself a great longing to play the kind of traditional
music that he had absorbed in his youth. At this point, he could have merely
abandoned his classical training and become a straight-forward traditional
fiddler. Instead, as is implied in the following quotation, he developed
two interlocking ambitions. First, he wished to apply his rigorous violin
training to the playing of traditional Irish tunes, thereby raising their
musical level and artistic significance. Second, he wished to transform
Irish traditional music as a whole from what he refers to as a "primitive"
state, to a true art music that would be appreciated worldwide:
I was always deeply interested in my own culture and I thought that
a repertoire of the jig, the hornpipe, the set dance, [and] the beautiful
slow airs Ö of which we have many Ö was a worthy subject for
the talents of the serious musician. I decided to devote my techniques
and life to the furtherance and promotion of my culture.
McGuire was only fourteen when his violin playing was broadcast for the
first time on BBC radio. In 1949 at the age of only twenty-one, he won the
Oireachtas (pronounced "ee-RUK-tus"), the All-Ireland musical
championship held annually in Dublin) with the only perfect score ever awarded
in the long history of the competition. In the 1950s, he became part of
a major touring group called the Malachy Sweeney Ceili Band; later he helped
form the Sean McGuire Ceili Band and the Four Star Quartet. [Ed. note: Ceili,
sometimes spelled ceilidh Ö pronounced "KAY-ley" Ö
is a Gaelic term for musical gathering]. Through the 1960s he was
a leading member of the Gael-Linn Cabaret.
In the days before the Chieftains assumed the role, McGuire sometimes
served as Irish musics cultural ambassador. He has appeared throughout Europe,
and he has been named "Grande Artiste" of the Soviet Union. When
he toured the U.S. in 1952, he was asked to appear on such classic American
variety programs as the Ed Sullivan Show and the Arthur Godfrey Show. He
was also honored by the Wurlitzer Co. of New York City, who not only invited
him to play the Stradivarius and Guarnerius violins in their possession,
but also to enter his name (alongside those of Fritz Kreisler and Yehudi
Menuhin) in their "golden book" of master violinists.
Over the years, McGuires name has become synonymous in Irish traditional
fiddling with excellent musicianship. He has composed many pieces for the
idiom, and written countless classic variations Ö not only for the
aforementioned "Masons Apron" Ö but also for such common
tunes as "The Poppy Leaf," "The Bees Wing," "The
Reconciliation," "The Boys of the Lough," and "The Golden
Eagle." Among his many innovations to the playing of traditional Irish
music have been the practice of using sophisticated key modulations (changes)
within a piece, the adaptation of advanced classical bowing techniques,
and the use of up-the-neck violin "positions."
In terms of training, ambitions, and outlook, McGuire is certainly comparable
to a major figure in Scottish fiddling history named James Scott Skinner
(1843-1927). Skinner, too, sought to widen the scope of his native fiddling
and increase its regard internationally. He created important sets of variations,
and incorporated up-the- neck positions and sophisticated bowing techniques
into traditional music. He was celebrated in his own time, and to this day
his variations are reproduced note for note by traditional musicians in
both Scotland and Cape Breton.
Because McGuire lived in a different era and worked in a different tradition
than Skinner, he has for the most part been a much more controversial figure.
Even before Skinner came along, Scottish fiddling had a long tradition of
virtuosi who were equally at home in both the art and folk traditions. Moreover,
the long history of Scottish tune-publication created a respect both for
the written note and for those artists who approached the music from a learned
perspective.
Irish music before the time of McGuire, on the other hand, was still
pretty much an oral music culture. As we shall see, there was even a strong
feeling among some that a musician with McGuires training and outlook could
not possibly perform Irelands traditional music in an authentic manner.
Certainly, there was a lot of resistance among musicians of "the old
school" to some of McGuires innovations. One story along these lines
was imparted to me by piper/tin whistler Bill Ochs of New York City. When
McGuire landed at a house party in Philadelphia some years ago at which
traditional fiddler John Vesey was already holding court, the latter is
said to have stood up and remarked, "There will be no playing in the
flat keys in this house tonight!"
To some degree, the controversy over McGuires approach was driven by
the on-going debate on the nature of Irish nationalism. Certainly the argument
could be made that McGuires technical innovations serve to insinuate a "foreign"
element (German, Italian Ö or worse yet Ö English) into
the native music. McGuires own take on this particular subject is touched
on in the following interview.
Although McGuires playing is still regarded as controversial by some
elements in the Irish music scene, there is no doubt that his example has
left an indelible mark on the tradition. Not only has he imparted his approach
to countless students over the years, but his mere presence on the scene
has served to raise the general level of technique and musical knowledge
required of all top flight players. Seamus Connolly, a world-renowned Irish
fiddler who now lives in the Boston area, sums up McGuires impact as follows:
Before 1957 and 58 many young fiddlers coming up were listening to Michael
Coleman on scratchy old 78s, and almost all of Irish fiddling was in just
a few keys. Then Sean McGuires first recordings came out, and we had heard
nothing like this Ö tunes like "The Mathematician," with
parts where he shifts effortlessly through a number of high positions,
or like "The Golden Eagle" where he switches back and forth between
second and third positions. And there were a number of tunes where he was
playing with great facility in the flat keys. It took me years to find
out what he was doing. He certainly influenced a lot of my generation Ö
the level of his technique first of all, and also the way with his variations
he could get inside a tune and turn it around. And I have seen that many
of the young fiddlers who were initially opposed to his approach came to
admit his genius later on. He also opened the way for players in the next
generation to take classical training and apply it to the traditional style.
As far as I am concerned, McGuire was a real genius of a player and I hope
he is ultimately accorded his true place in the annals of traditional Irish
music.
The following interview took place June 2, 1996 during the Northern Lights
"Festal" [sic] in Ballycastle, Northern Ireland, which is roughly
sixty miles north of Belfast.
When were you first exposed to fiddle music?
I developed the interest when I was about ten years of age. I was fortunate
to have parents and grandparents that were musical. You could say that I
caught the bug. Very few people know that in order to pay for my violin
studies I had to take a job Ö I am a fully qualified motor mechanic!
Did your parents play traditional music?
Yes they did. My father was a renowned flautist and piccolo player in
the Irish style. My mother could have sung the very humble ballad. My brother
is as good a player as myself and my sister would not be in the background
if she was called on to sing a song. My grandfather on my mothers side played
violin in the Irish style; my grandmother on my fathers side was a renowned
folk singer.
Was there a distinct style of Irish violin played by your parents
and grandparents generation?
It was known more or less as the standard at that time. People stuck
religiously to what they called the old traditional style, whereas mine
is more the advanced style of playing the music. That said, I had quite
a battle to get away from this form of stagnation of culture. I said, "Well
look, Irish music, and any music, is something that lives. Its got to progress,
and youve got to accept personal interpretations within the structure of
the basic music." Theres a big range there to be explored.
How is your style different from your parents style?
I had the advantage of classical training, things that could be put into
the music Ö key changes within the same piece for example, they were
seldom explored when I first came to the music. I transposed [the tunes]
quite a lot and felt I had done them justice. I explored all the possibilities
to transform the tunes by arranging, key changes, different bow stylings,
and not so much the "rumpy tumpy" style of playing Irish music.
How would you say your approach to Irish music differs from the Sligo
approach to fiddling, as exemplified by its most famous exponent Michael
Coleman?
Coleman was accepted in his era as being a great player. But if you analyze
what hes doneá For a start, he was playing in a primitive style.
He didnt stray outside D and G major and related minors. Im exploring one
flat, two flats, three flats, four flats, and the multi-sharp keys. That
was not done in Colemans day and he could not have attempted it. This is
where the training stood me!
Where in your community would you have heard traditional fiddle playing
as a child?
My aunt was a renowned violin player. There were also ceilis in nearly
every area. The local musicians would gather Ö melodeons, accordions,
violins, flutes mostly. And it was the case that odd-ball instruments, like
banjos, clarinets, dulcimers, and things like that were also accepted as
capable to do our music justice, even though some self-styled "purists"
in the cities would not have accepted anything then but flute, uillean pipes,
and the violin. Not even the Irish harp was accepted at all times.
The music was in a primitive state. The Irish had been denied their culture
for so long by the English occupation Ö not being allowed to play,
sing, or speak the language, and all go together. Read the history of our
country, and you know why the music, like our language, nearly disappeared.
Now its all coming back. Some of my students will surpass me, and there
is no danger now that it will ever go back to being primitive.
Can you describe the ceilis when you were young?
The kitchen was got ready Ö it was at a persons house. It was made
spotless Ö Flagstone floors. There would be the turf stacked to keep
the fire burning. The porter or Guinness would be ready to hand, and anybody
that wanted to partake of the beverage, they could help themselves. The
smell of home-baked bread Ö you just couldnt wait to get it! And meanwhile
the merry-making went on. You were called on to play a solo, play a few
tunes, sing a few songs. The balladeer was always there.
But one feature of the Irish ceili was the story teller, he was a character
in his own right. He told more lies than were ever published, but it was
all in good fun! Then there would be dancing; someone would be called on
to dance a step [step-dance]. And that was in real boots; it sounded like
a corps of drummers on that flagstone floor. Those dancers were genuine
experts!
But I loved the sean nós singing, its the old unaccompanied
traditional singing. It was gorgeous, and believe me it drew you very near
to nature.
And a stranger was always welcome. No questions were ever asked. If you
came in and wanted to be part of the nights enjoyment you were made welcome.
It started at eight or nine oclock, and went on till five in the morning.
And manys the summer morning, somebody would say, sitting by the window
Ö the blinds would have been drawn for the night Ö "Whats
that blue light there?" It was daylight! They had played, and danced,
and sung all night.
And it was different venues every other week. There was the harvest festivals,
the planting of potatoes, or church meetings. Ceili means "gathering,"
and Ceili mor means big gathering. So every so often youd have the
ceili mor and everybody looked forward to it.
Was there square dancing or other forms of set dancing at the ceilis?
No, there was just step dancing at the ceilis. We had set dancing at
the barn dances. This was of course held in the barn with a wood floor.
Youd get somebody with a bodhran, a couple of fiddlers, somebody with a
set of pipes. And you got there what we called "formation dancing"
Ö you might call it square dancing. It might be two facing two, four
facing four, or three facing three. And theyd advance, retire, do their
step, do their swinging, and then the next group got up.
And this went on for different figures to be completed before the dance
was completed. Some of our popular dances were Haymakers Jig, the Fairy
Reel, the Four-On Reel, and The Six-On Reel. Then there was the odd polka,
and of course if you had the expert stepdancer they were called on to perform.
Who played for the barn dances?
It was a band. They had a program for each dance, of how many turns [repetitions
of a tune] had to be played. Theyd get together and practice. They timed
their playing to coincide with the dance starting and finishing, and theyd
change from one tune to another. Theyd play each tune two or three times
through. Coming to the end of the dance theyd speed it up, and this was
quite accepted. Their repertoire may have been limited but they put it to
damn good useá
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