|
|
The Other View |
||
|
Issue No.9 Summer 2002
By John Nixon In Armagh we called them the batteries. Drummers would assemble in the gaol square and beat out what seemed to be an incessant barrage of monotone. Like migratory cuckoos they appeared and left at certain times in the year. From the thresholds of Orange halls and across roaring hills the Lambegs beat out litanies of defiance, anger and hate. They heralded the approach of the marching season and the mad month, a time when protestant neighbours turned cold shoulders to catholic neighbours. The sound of the batteries invoked this subliminal Jekyll and Hyde character of northern protestants. Today it seems the beating is harder. The noise is louder. But these days Lambegs are not just throttled at interfaces by fat men sweating. After reading Rina Schiller's book The Lambeg and The Bodhran there is more to the Lambeg than meets the ear. Rina is an ethnomusicologist who has studied Irish drums for years. Her book describes every aspect of Lambeg and bodhrán traditions; their construction, the myths and history behind them, how they're played, their relevance and meaning to each community. The Lambeg and the bodhrán are the only native drums played at present in Ireland. The book is heavily illustrated and this is an asset. Four chapters are devoted to 'the various layers of meaning ascribed to the two drums within present day society'. Other chapters focus on the technical processes of construction, the commonalties and differences and of course their significance in folklore story and song. It is dedicated to the traditional musicians of Ireland. My perception of the Lambeg has changed because of it. Familiar names from both traditions
crop up. Richard and Roly Sterrit from Markethill, the Mecca of Lambeg drumming
competitions. The Sterrits are synonymous with Lambegs as Loughgall is with
apples. Like many drum makers they combine elements of joinery and woodwork and
craft. There is a devotion to the tradition and opportunities to compose verse
in its praise: My earliest recollection of the bodhrán being played is due to the Vallelys of Armagh. The Vallely family are synonymous with music and arts as the Mournes are with granite. They have built solid foundations on which many reputations have been built. Brian and Dara are accomplished musicians. Dara is member of the Armagh Rhymers and a recognised authority on masks and drumming. In terms of gender the Lambeg is exclusively a male domain but that could be as much due to its size and shape than tradition. There is only one woman drummer in Ireland and she is Caroline Stewart from Armagh. Where else! As Rina points out Ireland is a 'gendered society, and the musical activities of women have indeed been left out of the historical records for a long time'. But times are changing. Most bodhrán players are male and there has been a proliferation of them at fleadhs and sessions that some of the more puritan and refined types tend to turn a deafened ear to them. A difficult feat. But there is no single or double time drumming with the bodhrán. If you hear the 'The Old Sow's Trot to The Perterhole' in Lambeg single time and 'The Hens March to The Midden' with bodhrán backing you'd certainly know the difference. Lambeg is derived from the Irish
meaning 'small hand' and the word bodhrán means 'deafener'. Rina interestingly
points out that in terms of gender the drum is seen as female, like a ship, and
aspects of virility are associated with playing techniques, which from
experience is very much the case; some men play it some men beat it. When it comes to good drumming tone
and sound the goatskin can't be beat. In myths and tales the goat has its own
mysterious symbolism and you can see that in Ireland at the Puck Fair in Kerry.
So it only fair to finish with some goatly aspirations enshrined in the
following ranns by Brian O Rourke from Galway: |
|||
|
|
|||