Looking back over the posts to this blog, I find (probably unsurprisingly) that one of the overarching themes is the strangeness of the session as a social environment. Where else can you find a situation where the following occurs:
People from any background, nationality, race and creed gather together in one place. Each generally has no knowledge of the others apart from their first name and the instrument they play. They bond together loosely for the duration of the session and support each other before dispersing to the wind. Some characters turn up again and again; some drift in and out. Friendships do form of course, sometimes bands emerge from the session in some kind of coalescence like cosmic dust forming a new star. It is inevitable over time that sessioneers will find out more about their fellows and I'm not sure that the additional information is at all helpful. You hear comments like 'He's pretty good - for a .......' - whatever the profession might be. The slight air of mystery about sessions is always attractive.
Of course there is often a mix of those who play or sing for a living and those for whom it is a hobby or pastime. There is rarely any friction between professionals, semi-professionals and amateurs (in the best sense of the word - lovers of ...) because of an underlying respect for anybody who has the courage to play music in the presence of their peers and the public. Indeed to be accepted as a peer for the duration of a session by a professional produces an incredibly warm feeling. Most professionals are incredibly generous as well. They will not take over but they will encourage and nurture talent wherever it is found.
This said, it follows that the characters at sessions are often just that - isolated characters seen in one context only and therefore might appear as slightly strange, zany or colourful to others. Whether it is part of an act or not is hard to establish, but it is the character that comes through - so much so that the Welsh naming convention applies sometimes - so and so the pipes for example. Sometimes it is a characteristic or reputation rather than an instrument - like John the Archivist (Hi John).
Apart from some very disruptive elements who bring totally inappropriate instruments to sessions and play them with little or no discernible talent (I'm thinking cutlery, tea chest bass, electric whatevers, shaky eggs and the like), all sessioneers are respected. I do know performers who are masters of the spoons and the skiffle bass but sadly we don't see them in session often enough.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Monday 11th February 2008
Another week and another two sessions. The Irish session in the Anchor at Wingham was excellent. It just managed to reach that critical mass to make it go with a swing and give every set a lift. Although not an audience friendly pub (because of the layout), the acoustics are wonderful. There were the usual jokes and stories and banter and teasing as well as the tunes which comes I suppose from years of playing together every week. We can guarantee there is at least one weekly joke from our piper, and this week's involved Camels. Not the one about 'we use it to ride into town' but the one about the bricks and doesn't it hurt? There is one particular trait that always causes us all mirth. The piper looks up from playing to inquire how many times through we've played something. It is always twice. Always. So now it's a fixed event, if the piper asks, it's only twice.
The Thursday Session at the Bear was pretty much back to normal following the return of the beloved leader. One of our regulars is in the US at the moment so she was missed, but we had a welcome visit from Chris the concertina who comes out to play far too infrequently but as a school teacher he is forgiven. We don't have the friendly banter in the same way at this session although everyone is perfectly amiable - except to the one string bass which luckily hasn't been around recently. A bit heavy on the songs and the poet didn't get a look in but that's the way it goes sometimes. We were also fortunate to have two players from Drohne - Phil Martin and Geoff who brightened the whole thing up with Hurdy Gurdy, Pipes and those amazing things that Geoff plays which look like a cross between a medieval musical instrument and a device of torture. They sound great though.
Another normal week (Wednesday - Anchor - Wingham, Thursday - Bear - Faversham) but being the second Monday of the month, there is a French Session at Preston (Half Moon and Seven Stars) and next Monday will be Tilmanstone for the mixed session.
By the way, Beau (of Kentfolk) has produced a CD of session tunes from the Wednesday Irish, and the tunes are also available for download from his site.
The Thursday Session at the Bear was pretty much back to normal following the return of the beloved leader. One of our regulars is in the US at the moment so she was missed, but we had a welcome visit from Chris the concertina who comes out to play far too infrequently but as a school teacher he is forgiven. We don't have the friendly banter in the same way at this session although everyone is perfectly amiable - except to the one string bass which luckily hasn't been around recently. A bit heavy on the songs and the poet didn't get a look in but that's the way it goes sometimes. We were also fortunate to have two players from Drohne - Phil Martin and Geoff who brightened the whole thing up with Hurdy Gurdy, Pipes and those amazing things that Geoff plays which look like a cross between a medieval musical instrument and a device of torture. They sound great though.
Another normal week (Wednesday - Anchor - Wingham, Thursday - Bear - Faversham) but being the second Monday of the month, there is a French Session at Preston (Half Moon and Seven Stars) and next Monday will be Tilmanstone for the mixed session.
By the way, Beau (of Kentfolk) has produced a CD of session tunes from the Wednesday Irish, and the tunes are also available for download from his site.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Tuesday 5th February 2008
Are you Shriven? Will you Shrive, for today is Shrove Tuesday. Pancakes.
This is a rare occurrence, two posts in rapid succession but I had a thought and as they come so rarely, I decided to capture it and let it develop. I think the time has come to make the sessions we have come to know and love fictitious. Set them in an entirely made up place, give characters a heavy alias and then elaborate even more on the foibles, peculiarities, and personalities. There can even be a disclaimer - 'Any similarity between the characters in the story and persons either living or dead is entirely coincidental' or something of the sort.
The sort of characters I had in mind are:
Set it the rural idylls of say Suffolkshire or Sessionshire (why not?), in and around the town of Middling Parva (I hope to God there isn't one. Note to self - must check*) and a plethora of outlying villages.
* No, there isn't.
This is a rare occurrence, two posts in rapid succession but I had a thought and as they come so rarely, I decided to capture it and let it develop. I think the time has come to make the sessions we have come to know and love fictitious. Set them in an entirely made up place, give characters a heavy alias and then elaborate even more on the foibles, peculiarities, and personalities. There can even be a disclaimer - 'Any similarity between the characters in the story and persons either living or dead is entirely coincidental' or something of the sort.
The sort of characters I had in mind are:
- Dizzy Sidebottom - A character who brings an upright piano to sessions
- Earl Tomkins - A Banjo Ace. Used to have an act juggling a cat, a torch and a sword
- Sean Patrick - A Piper with a sideline in cross channel swimming
- Fred Grapple - A Fiddle Player with a sideline in flogging Shawms to Johnny Foreigner
- Fingers O'Fipple - A Whistle player with a sideline in watches
- Mrs Mulligan - A kindly organiser and mother of the session
- Rick O'Shea - A Bodhran player with a sideline in tall stories
- Isla Gechar - An exotic guitar player with a sideline in femme fatale
Set it the rural idylls of say Suffolkshire or Sessionshire (why not?), in and around the town of Middling Parva (I hope to God there isn't one. Note to self - must check*) and a plethora of outlying villages.
* No, there isn't.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Monday, 4th February 2008
Dear Readers, here we are two days after Candlemas and did we celebrate anything? I bet we didn't.
The Session Diary is read widely as you know, not just here in Kent but further afield like Sussex and beyond. Rumours circulate that it is read abroad as well.
When I first envisioned the diary, I thought of a cross between the Archers and some comedic writer with more talent than I, such as Terry Pratchett or Douglas Adams. For the laws of dramatic effect, ironic narrative and post-neo-reconstructionist chuckles sometimes the situations are exaggerated. Just a tad. I also make a point of only naming where praise is due, never when foibles are being exposed - we all have them. Don't we?
But it does raise an interesting question which I've mentioned before. I have only played in sessions for 10 years and have a limited experience of the full gamut of sessions although I have been involved with Folk in varied capacities (Morris, Longsword, Rapper, Folk Clubs, Country Dance) for some 36 years. My musicianship is not of a professional (classical) standard and is constrained to some extent (not totally) by what is commonly played and the keys that the commonly played are played in most frequently. I wonder if that describes a large proportion of sessioneers?
There is certainly a class difference between professional musicians who can whip a tune around the cycle of fifths without blinking and arrange an augmented or diminished finish on the fly, and the rest of us who tend to pick up tunes as they are played, in the key they are played - in the old style of the oral / aural tradition I guess. Should the two mix or is it a recipe for disaster?
The Session Diary is read widely as you know, not just here in Kent but further afield like Sussex and beyond. Rumours circulate that it is read abroad as well.
When I first envisioned the diary, I thought of a cross between the Archers and some comedic writer with more talent than I, such as Terry Pratchett or Douglas Adams. For the laws of dramatic effect, ironic narrative and post-neo-reconstructionist chuckles sometimes the situations are exaggerated. Just a tad. I also make a point of only naming where praise is due, never when foibles are being exposed - we all have them. Don't we?
But it does raise an interesting question which I've mentioned before. I have only played in sessions for 10 years and have a limited experience of the full gamut of sessions although I have been involved with Folk in varied capacities (Morris, Longsword, Rapper, Folk Clubs, Country Dance) for some 36 years. My musicianship is not of a professional (classical) standard and is constrained to some extent (not totally) by what is commonly played and the keys that the commonly played are played in most frequently. I wonder if that describes a large proportion of sessioneers?
There is certainly a class difference between professional musicians who can whip a tune around the cycle of fifths without blinking and arrange an augmented or diminished finish on the fly, and the rest of us who tend to pick up tunes as they are played, in the key they are played - in the old style of the oral / aural tradition I guess. Should the two mix or is it a recipe for disaster?
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