The first lesson happened shortly after finishing yesterday's blog entry, you know, the one where I started off saying how things are going to change with the blogging, worried with the stretching, and all that stuff.
Shortly after finishing the blog I found myself sitting on the couch waiting for others to be ready to go, and considering playing a bit of Candy Crush. Yes, Candy Crush. We all know it, and we likely all have mixed feelings about the thing. I play it from time to time, and this was looking to be one of those times. Then I asked myself: If you have time to play a game, why don't you have time to stretch? Well, I said, because... Because... Well, because...
Ya, exactly. So I stretched. Which wasn't actually as easy as it sounds. Once my head had told me that I didn't have time for it then I no longer wanted to do it. Frankly, I never want to do it. So to discover that there is time, and actually use it well, actually took some effort given what I had convinced myself of.
Turns out I had more time to blog too. Ah well.
The next lesson was one on the history of Cape Breton music, or, as Donna-Marie at the Celtic Music Interpretive Centre in Judique, Cape Breton refers to it, Scots music.
Right, we're in Cape Breton now. Much of the day was spent driving. Man this country is gorgeous.
At the Celtic Centre Donna-Marie gave our group of five (Philip, Heather and Meara being still on the road as they had had to make a detour) a history lesson on scots music. Sitting in this cozy office, Donna-Marie sat with her fiddle and played us through the various types of fiddle tunes such as marches, strathspeys, reels, jigs, and the list continues. She explained the differences in meter between them, how the first three I listed are often grouped together when performed at a Ceilidh, how the fiddle music originated from attempting to play music that had, until then, been being played on the bagpipes - hence the second string drone you hear from time to time with the fiddle music. We learned some of the history of Cape Breton with the Scots coming over in the 18th century having been essentially forced off their land so the English could raise sheep. It was a great 20 minutes. Yes, all of that in 20 minutes.
The next lesson was one I had already learned years ago. I love Cape Breton. No, I have never been here, and honestly don't know a lot about it, but for some reason, I have always loved the place and have wanted to be here. And so far, so good.
We checked in to our rooms at the Mabou River Inn. It's a nice place, and conveniently located a short walk, or even shorter drive if you're not sure where precisely you going before you set out, from The Red Shoe Pub in Mabou.
The Red Shoe Pub is owned by the Rankin family. Look them up if you don't know them. Fantastic family of musicians. Though I think that pretty much sums up Cape Breton. Between the MacIsaac's, the MacMasters, the Barra MacNeils. This list goes on. Again, look it up. The amount of musical talent coming from this little island per capita puts the rest of us to shame. You might think it's in the water, but it's in the kitchen. Music here for many people is part of growing up. It's engrained in how they socialize with their family and friends.
Anyway, we got a taste of this and a whole lot more at The Red Shoe Pub. Why? Well, because, this is where we spent the next five or so hours, eating good food, enjoying good beer, and listening first to Maggie Beaton and friends play:
and then watching the Monday night jam session unfold:
Watching them all play together was amazing. Not everyone knew all the tunes being played, but you could see them watching and listening intently and figuring it out, and you could see whoever started the tune staring intently at the ones learning, almost willing them to know the music, as if they could just push it into the other players brains and fingers.
Much of this comes about from learning by rote. As I learned from Margaree (hope I'm spelling that right), one of the fiddlers/pianists (yep many people play them both really well), many of the fiddlers do not read music, in fact, many of the composers of Cape Breton music do not read music. You see it in some, and they're seeing it in the younger musicians, but it is mostly an aural tradition.
This is actually how I taught myself how to play the piano. First, at a very young age sitting beside my Dad on the piano bench tinkling (playing not peeing) away on the upper octaves as he played Scott Joplin, Fats Domino, and other ragtime greats; and then as a young teen, sitting at a piano in the auditorium at my school for countless hours every day (yes, skipping class) with headphones on listening to my favourite songs of the day and trying to piece them out on the keyboard, and then finally making up my own tunes.
And then this, my latest piano lesson, last night with Margaree at The Red Shoe Pub.
Like I said, I love this place.
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