An Ill Duck
Wednesday, March 18. 2009
The new practice chanter's here! The new practice chanter's here!
I mentioned on Twitter the other day that I ordered a practice chanter, the first step in learning to play the Great Highland Bagpipe (GHB). It's reported that neophytes generally spend a year or more with the practice chanter before ever attempting to play the "real thing." I got my instrument and the first three volumes of John Cairns' bagpipe method, which supposedly will take me all the way through to actual GHB playing, with or without a live tutor. In a year or so. Of fifteen minutes' practice per day.
I expect my family is going to harbor an intense dislike for Mr. John Cairns. Or, more likely, me.
Of course, I put the practice chanter—really an instrument in its own right, a sort of double-reed woodwind—together right away, after reading the "IMPORTANT! READ FIRST!" bit in the package I received from Mr. Oliver Seeler of Universe of Bagpipes. I read it twice, to be sure. Because it's IMPORTANT.
So apparently assembling the thing is very much akin to that scene in The Spy Who Loved Me when Bond had to c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y remove the detonator from a nuclear weapon, pulling it straight out. Otherwise he would break the reed, er, cause the nuclear weapon to "go off."
Also, using incorrect embouchure and / or blowing too wimpily into the chanter gets you what Mr. Seeler calls the sound of an "ill duck." I concur, and don't plan to do that again.
When played with a bit more gusto but just as much inexperience, the practice chanter sounds like this. Not quite Whiskey in the Jar yet, but give me a year or two.
I'll be posting some more audio clips from time to time of my progress, I'm afraid. You don't have to listen, of course. But I predict there will be a significant amount of rubbernecking. You know, like when you pass a 20-car pileup on the highway.
The new practice chanter's here! The new practice chanter's here!
I mentioned on Twitter the other day that I ordered a practice chanter, the first step in learning to play the Great Highland Bagpipe (GHB). It's reported that neophytes generally spend a year or more with the practice chanter before ever attempting to play the "real thing." I got my instrument and the first three volumes of John Cairns' bagpipe method, which supposedly will take me all the way through to actual GHB playing, with or without a live tutor. In a year or so. Of fifteen minutes' practice per day.
I expect my family is going to harbor an intense dislike for Mr. John Cairns. Or, more likely, me.
Of course, I put the practice chanter—really an instrument in its own right, a sort of double-reed woodwind—together right away, after reading the "IMPORTANT! READ FIRST!" bit in the package I received from Mr. Oliver Seeler of Universe of Bagpipes. I read it twice, to be sure. Because it's IMPORTANT.
So apparently assembling the thing is very much akin to that scene in The Spy Who Loved Me when Bond had to c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y remove the detonator from a nuclear weapon, pulling it straight out. Otherwise he would break the reed, er, cause the nuclear weapon to "go off."
Also, using incorrect embouchure and / or blowing too wimpily into the chanter gets you what Mr. Seeler calls the sound of an "ill duck." I concur, and don't plan to do that again.
When played with a bit more gusto but just as much inexperience, the practice chanter sounds like this. Not quite Whiskey in the Jar yet, but give me a year or two.
I'll be posting some more audio clips from time to time of my progress, I'm afraid. You don't have to listen, of course. But I predict there will be a significant amount of rubbernecking. You know, like when you pass a 20-car pileup on the highway.
I mentioned on Twitter the other day that I ordered a practice chanter, the first step in learning to play the Great Highland Bagpipe (GHB). It's reported that neophytes generally spend a year or more with the practice chanter before ever attempting to play the "real thing." I got my instrument and the first three volumes of John Cairns' bagpipe method, which supposedly will take me all the way through to actual GHB playing, with or without a live tutor. In a year or so. Of fifteen minutes' practice per day.
I expect my family is going to harbor an intense dislike for Mr. John Cairns. Or, more likely, me.
Of course, I put the practice chanter—really an instrument in its own right, a sort of double-reed woodwind—together right away, after reading the "IMPORTANT! READ FIRST!" bit in the package I received from Mr. Oliver Seeler of Universe of Bagpipes. I read it twice, to be sure. Because it's IMPORTANT.
So apparently assembling the thing is very much akin to that scene in The Spy Who Loved Me when Bond had to c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y remove the detonator from a nuclear weapon, pulling it straight out. Otherwise he would break the reed, er, cause the nuclear weapon to "go off."
Also, using incorrect embouchure and / or blowing too wimpily into the chanter gets you what Mr. Seeler calls the sound of an "ill duck." I concur, and don't plan to do that again.
When played with a bit more gusto but just as much inexperience, the practice chanter sounds like this. Not quite Whiskey in the Jar yet, but give me a year or two.
I'll be posting some more audio clips from time to time of my progress, I'm afraid. You don't have to listen, of course. But I predict there will be a significant amount of rubbernecking. You know, like when you pass a 20-car pileup on the highway.
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