The Harp Blog

Okay, so it’s not quite October yet. Thought I’d get a bit of a head start. It certainly feels like October around here; chilly, windy, leaves skittering everywhere.

The HarpBlog Tune of the Month is courtesy of Chubby Sparrow Music . For a printable version, right click on the picture and choose “save target as”, or pop over to the Chubby Sparrow Free Music page for more detailed printing instructions (note: if you just left click and try to print directly from the browser, it probably won’t print at the right size).

Our early music group plays this one in a set with “The Old Mole”.

I did say it would be a while – but at last, we’re at the end of our official summer wedding extravaganza. After four gigs in three days, there was bound to be at least one worth writing about. In fact, there was one that had all three of us doubled over laughing.

The other three gigs went relatively as planned: On Thursday night, a little half-hour concert of medieval music with Hurly Burly for a Trent-sponsored historical conference, in a local art gallery. Then the next day, a wedding out at a resort we play at regularly, which despite the usual gusting wind, the roar of motor boats and airplanes, and the faint aroma of septic system, was just fine (although our cello player did get pelted by falling acorns a couple of times).

As soon as that one wrapped up, we high-tailed it out of there to our next gig, about an hour drive away. So far so good. Our flute player had scoped out the route, and it was her turn to drive (we each took a turn, which made things much easier), and we made the journey in plenty of time. Our flute player had warned us a bit in advance, but it was still a bit of a shock. We arrive to see what looks an awful lot like a refurbished old ski resort building, with a large parking lot and a big artificial pond. On the far side of the pond is a huge tract of absolutely empty sand – presumably, meant to be a beach. At this point we are surrounded by lovely Ontario countryside, the trees sporting their early fall colours, drumlins and still-verdant hills, forest and farmland stretching around us. At the site itself, there are plenty of big squares of lawn. And where are all the little white chairs set up? You guessed it – on the big strech of sand. They were thoughtful enough to put up a little awning-style tent; which turned out to be a good thing, since for the first half hour or so the sky spit little drops of rain at us and threatened worse.

(Disclaimer alert: In case anyone involved in this affair ever reads this (fat chance!), please be assured that it’s not meant as an affront to the mostly really quite nice people we work for; just sometimes the circumstances can be a bit, shall we say, more interesting than we were planning on.)

Have you ever watched people walk in stilletto heels in the sand? Would have been funny, but we were too busy trying to read our music as it gradually got darker and darker. They had a few torches flickering away, but that didn’t help us much. I had a stand light, but had accidentally left my glasses in the car (now parked way back in the lot); which put me about on par with my partners, who had glasses but no lights.

At one point, before the guests arrived, the three of us just looked around at the scene and started to laugh. We laughed until we had tears in our eyes and were for a moment, completely speechless.

Did I mention that the lady acting as officiant’s eye shadow matched the colour of the bridesmaids dresses? A kind of sea-blue. Just that it was memorable, is all.

And all the women in the bridal party were sleeveless, a pretty much unbroken trend for most of our eight-year wedding-playing career that baffles me to no end. No matter how classy the wedding, how sensible-seeming the couple, how practical they may be in every other respect, all those poor women are always sleeve (and often back) free. It’s September in Ontario, people! Has anyone ever heard of say, a shawl? How about longer dresses? Or sleeves, perhaps? Either the wedding garment industry is manifestly misogynistic (the guys always have suits, which works in the fall – although in mid-July it’s not so nice, so maybe the wedding industry is just generally sadistic) – or the vast majority of people involved in weddings immediately lose a few dozen IQ points the instant they walk into a bridal shop. Probably both, come to think of it.

We ended up with sand everywhere – cases, shoes, on binders and bags, encrusting the hem of my skirt. A very good argument for the habit some smart harpists have of always carrying a small mat or square of carpet around with them. I think next year, I will give that a try. At least this summer I’ve been very good about bringing my own chair, and my little pignose amp, and lots of snacks and water. Our cello player also sensibly brings a cushion to sit on, another habit I should pick up. Soon, we will be like a travelling theatre troupe, complete with enough gear to camp out for a week with.

And the last gig, today? All went well, despite some anxiety that it might not be so (the stand light came in very handy yet again, seeing how we were crammed into a dark corner in a small chapel). And for the most part, lest I seem too disparaging, our clients were pretty easy to deal with. Still, I’m really glad the season is over, and I can’t say I’m waiting with baited breath ’til next summer (despite having a really solid little trio that does of course sound lovely), but when it comes, we’ll at least have had a good long break. Soon it’ll be time to get ready for all the seasonal concerts in December. And after practicing Christmas tunes for two months, I may almost wistfully look forward to Pachelbel’s Canon… okay, well maybe not so much.

This weekend we had our first truly chilly gig of the season. In this part of Ontario, fall really starts after the labour day weekend. We may have a few balmy days left, but the leaves are already starting to turn, and the past few nights have fallen into the single digits (Celcius). Saturday definitely felt like fall, cool, dry and breezy. Of course, couples about to be married being the paragons of common sense and logic (hah!), every single one of our September gigs (and one October one!) are scheduled to be outside. And you know brides – it pretty much has to be hailing or flashing with lightning and pouring for them to finally give in and let it be inside.

We thought we had enough layers – thick skirts, long sleeved shirts, sweaters. Yes, sweaters – no matter how fancy the bridal party is, if they expect musicians to perform outside by the lake at this time of year, they get to deal with sweaters. Our trio long ago settled on a classic black-and-white look (after failing miserably to come up with some kind of colourful or interesting theme that would suit all of us and still look professional), so at least our sweaters are all nice, classy knit white sweaters that pretty much match.

Our flutist came prepared, as always, complete with long johns. But the day was deceptive; as we were leaving, the sun was shining, the air was arm, and our flutist was already determining she’d probably have to shed most of her layers. The cello player and I decided to throw caution to the wind and go as we were without backup layers or coats. By the end of the gig, our flutist was cozy and comfortable, and the cello player and I were shivering and chilled right through. Our cellist actually had to go sit in the car for about ten minutes before the second half of the gig started, in order to warm up.

One thing I did have, which I highly recommend, is a pair of Thinsulate gloves. They live in the pocket of my harp case year round, along with the spare tuner and some extra business cards. They’re thin and white, and actually meant to function more like liners inside of regular gloves or mits. The best part is, I can play while wearing them. The trick for being able to play in gloves is something any busker knows very well – you take a nice sharp pair of scissors and cut the fingertips out. Another nice thing about these gloves/liners, is that since they’re white they don’t clash with our gig outfits. Without them, there have been some gigs where I’d have been reduced to playing a clumsy ham-fisted bass line (technically doable in a trio, but disastrous if playing solo.)

Which brings us to gig rule #3 – if it’s after Labour Day, and it’s outside, always bring more layers than you think you need. You can always take stuff off, but you can’t put it on if it ain’t there. Next weekend, it’ll by tights and undershirts and extra sweaters for sure.

Yes, of course you can always refuse to play if the weather conditions are truly terrible. But we have become very stoic over the years, and will try to soldier on if at all possible. We live in a small community, where reputation is key, and we’re really reluctant to put our rep in danger by completely refusing to play (unless it’s actively raining or snowing – then they would be out of luck, end of story.)

New Tune of the Month, courtesy of Chubby Sparrow Music (right click on the picture and choose “save target as”, or just pop over to the Chubby Sparrow Free Music page for more detailed printing instructions).

Out on the Ocean is a popular upbeat session tune, and can be played in either a leisurely or more rollicking fashion.

It goes well with Rolling Waves, Geese in the Bog and Connacht Man’s Rambles.

Also known as Mick Mulcahy’s, O’Connell’s Jig On Top Of Mount Everest, O’er The Sea, Out In The Ocean, Out Of The Ocean, Over The Ocean, Portroe, Split The Whisker, The Wind Is Over The Ocean.

I thought it would be fun to periodically feature weird harps, or things that get mistaken for harps (or things with “harp” in the name that have no resemblance to harps as we know them). It’s also an easy thing to do when I’m totally bushed from gigging all day and my brain cells are functioning at minimal capacity.

Today’s feature is the harp guitar. I could go to the effort of doing a bunch of research on this elabourate and awkward-looking instrument, but there’s already a whole website dedicated to it at harpguitars.net. You can find out about the history of the harp guitar in this section.

Warning: if you try a Google image search of “weird harp pictures”, you might see some disturbing images of harp seals being clubbed. It took me a bit off guard so I just thought I’d mention it.