gcaplan

Hi folks You could add me to the "Scottish players not resident" section, I guess (Geoff Caplan, Devon) Playing quite a lot these days: there's a lively session scene here. Its very eclectic, as you'd expect, but I still manage to play a good deal of Scots stuff. Though when I headed south I never expected to be playing a St George's Day gig in front of a huge St George's Cross (but even then we managed to sneak in a few Scotch tunes..) By the way, ECs don't have the same rarity value down here: I'm often in local session with 3 or 4 others and a couple of Anglos to boot. Darn it - who wants to be common? Add in all the !@?@ melodeons and the odd accordion and the average Devon musical soiree can be just a wee bit heavy on the free reeds...

Sorry - here's a link where you can see a thumbnail without logging in: http://browse.sothebys.com/?q=concertina

Thought Duetists & historians might be interested in this: http://www.sothebys.com/app/live/lot/LotDe...ot_id=159332517

Other advantages of Transcribe: - the sound quality is significantly better than the alternatives that I've tried - you can play directly off the CD is you want, without having to rip the track to disk. A nice piece of software - well worth the modest outlay.

Thanks Wes - this all makes sense. I didn't realise that the ledgers are so inconsistent and that the interpretation is so problematic. Sounds as though this is something that will get done in its own sweet time. And with Stephen being so generous with his knowledge on this board, we know we can get help in the meantime.

Hi folks. I'm selling a Holmwood Tenor-Treble English by Hamish Bayne (ocagonal, 56 brass keys, 6-fold brown bellows, raised mahogany ends). For anyone who doesn't know, Hamish is one of the few modern makers of quality English concertinas. This is a serious instrument of traditional construction with hand-made concertina reeds. It's an early one - around 20 years old - but Hamish has always said he feels it's one of his best. It's got a sweet and pleasing tone - ideal for song-accompaniment - and I've lost count of the number of people who have complimented its looks... At the moment it's on its way to Hamish for a full service. It's been pretty much trouble-free: it's only been up to him a couple of times to have the tuning touched up. But I've asked him to re-do the bushing, tidy up a couple of minor issues with the action and check out the bellows, plus anything else he spots that needs attended to. So I'll be selling it in first-rate playing condition. It's been played regularly, so cosmetically there are the usual little chips around the purfling, but nothing more than you'd expect in a working instrument of this vintage. Once it gets back, I'm planning to offer it on eBay. But if you'd like to get it without all the stress and uncertainly of an auction, you could make me an offer I can't refuse :-) . (For newbies, you can email me by clicking on my name at the top-left of this post). As far as I know, this is the first Bayne to come on the open market, so the price is a bit of an open issue. Hamish's price these days is 4000 UKP (around 7000 USD) if that's any help, though obviously I'm not expecting that kind of money. Please let me know what you feel it's worth. If you're seriously interested, I'll be happy to send detailed photos and sound samples as soon as I have it back. Meantime, you can see Holmwoods here: http://hmi.homewood.net/bnick/eng2.htm and here: http://www.d-and-d.com/dnichols/DoN.html . My Holmwood is rather similar to Don's on the second link, except that the mahogony on mine is less strongly figured. Given that the last Holmwood on eBay wasn't entirely kosher, I would arrange with Hamish that you could call him and verify its credentials before the sale was finalised. I'm selling reluctantly: I have a health problem that affects the strength of my hands, and I'm increasingly finding the Tenor-Treble too heavy for comfort. You should be aware that the Holmwood has been built for reliability and is relatively heavy. So I've found myself a nice Aeola Treble, and need to sell to cover the cost. The instrument is in the UK (Midlands), but I'd be happy to send it overseas provided we can come to an arrangement we're both comfortable with. [Editied to clarify pricing]

Well, in that case, maybe an ad hoc approach where people post their queries here is the most practical. Certainly, you have been exceptionally responsive and helpful!

Yep, interpreting them can be extremely difficult, there are still many mysteries, and perhaps there always will be ... Maybe I should write something about it (other than in my various posts on the subject to this forum) ? <{POST_SNAPBACK}> Once again, thanks for the info! Given all the effort that's been put into making the ledgers available, my personal feeling is that an article on the Horiman site explaining what is known about interpreting the entries would be a logical step. Clearly, you are one of the experts - I'd imagine that Steve, Neil and others must have some insights as well. Has anyone ever collated all this expertise and put it into writing? It would surely be a worthwhile project. And publishing it beside the ledgers themselves would make a lot of sense...

Stephen Very helpful reply - many thanks! You're right about the model number - I missed that. I assume that 17 is the Aeola treble? It's an 8 sided instrument, as you can see, and with raised ends, so I'm assuming that this is the model. The odd thing about the Horniman site is that despite the fantastic job they've done in digitising the ledgers, they don't give you much help with interpreting them. Or am I missing something?

I was at Dave Townsend's workshop on practising. I found it a real eye-opener - I've been mucking around with the instrument for years, but never made any real efforts to develop a decent technique. I've been to a few Whiteneys, and the emphasis is normally on the music rather than the instrument itself. Dave has obviously thought deeply about this whole area of developing technique and communicates it well. You only have to listen to his playing to appreciate his mastery of the instrument. It's inspired me to get down to some real technical work... The only criticism was that there was too much information to remember, and that some kind of cheat-sheet would be useful. I'd taken extensive notes and offered to put something together, and Dave said he'd post it on the website. I sent him a copy for revision some time ago, so if anyone is keen to get their hands on this, perhaps you could give him a gentle prod! I'll stick a post here when he's approved it. Simon's workshop on Scottish music was inspiring as well, though the huge gap between his viruoso playing and musical invention and the efforts of a plodder like my good self does raise some flutters of concertina envy...

Hi folks. Can someone help me interpret this rather cryptic entry for a 1922 treble Aeola: N.P. Octo 48 Keys S.V. W.S. Are these initials or some sort of code? If initials, does anyone know the names of the makers they refer to? It would be rather nice to know who made the beast... I'm no expert on Wheatstones, but Neil Wayne's history history suggests that the 1920's were pretty much the golden period for the Aeola. Is this the general view? It's certainly a nice playing instrument.

As other posters have already pointed out, the great Wilkie Collins probably played the English and featured it in "The Woman in White". I am currently reading another of his "Big 4" novels, "Armadale", and there is an extended passage featuring the concertina that is so delightful I can't resist quoting it at length. Apart from being a great read, it also throws light on the social context of the concertina in Victorian society. Some background: "Aramadale" was written in the 1860s and set in the early 1850s. The action takes place on a pleasure trip to the Norfolk Broads (at that time, the back of beyond). I have copied the text from the online edition published by the University of Adelaide. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The last mellow hours of the day and the first cool breezes of the long summer evening had met before the dishes were all laid waste, and the bottles as empty as bottles should be. This point in the proceedings attained, the picnic party looked lazily at Pedgift Junior to know what was to be done next. That inexhaustible functionary was equal as ever to all the calls on him. He had a new amusement ready before the quickest of the company could so much as ask him what that amusement was to be. “Fond of music on the water, Miss Milroy?” he asked, in his airiest and pleasantest manner. Miss Milroy adored music, both on the water and the land—always excepting the one case when she was practicing the art herself on the piano at home. “We’ll get out of the reeds first,” said young Pedgift. He gave his orders to the boatmen, dived briskly into the little cabin, and reappeared with a concertina in his hand. “Neat, Miss Milroy, isn’t it?” he observed, pointing to his initials, inlaid on the instrument in mother-of-pearl. “My name’s Augustus, like my father’s. Some of my friends knock off the ‘A,’ and call me ‘Gustus Junior.’ A small joke goes a long way among friends, doesn’t it, Mr. Armadale? I sing a little to my own accompaniment, ladies and gentlemen; and, if quite agreeable, I shall be proud and happy to do my best.” “Stop!” cried Mrs. Pentecost; “I dote on music.” With this formidable announcement, the old lady opened a prodigious leather bag, from which she never parted night or day, and took out an ear-trumpet of the old-fashioned kind—something between a key-bugle and a French horn. “I don’t care to use the thing generally,” explained Mrs. Pentecost, “because I’m afraid of its making me deafer than ever. But I can’t and won’t miss the music. I dote on music. If you’ll hold the other end, Sammy, I’ll stick it in my ear. Neelie, my dear, tell him to begin.” Young Pedgift was troubled with no nervous hesitation. He began at once, not with songs of the light and modern kind, such as might have been expected from an amateur of his age and character, but with declamatory and patriotic bursts of poetry, set to the bold and blatant music which the people of England loved dearly at the earlier part of the present century, and which, whenever they can get it, they love dearly still. “The Death of Marmion,” “The Battle of the Baltic,” “The Bay of Biscay,” “Nelson,” under various vocal aspects, as exhibited by the late Braham—these were the songs in which the roaring concertina and strident tenor of Gustus Junior exulted together. “Tell me when you’re tired, ladies and gentlemen,” said the minstrel solicitor. “There’s no conceit about me. Will you have a little sentiment by way of variety? Shall I wind up with ‘The Mistletoe Bough’ and ‘Poor Mary Anne’?” Having favored his audience with those two cheerful melodies, young Pedgift respectfully requested the rest of the company to follow his vocal example in turn, offering, in every case, to play “a running accompaniment” impromptu, if the singer would only be so obliging as to favor him with the key-note. “Go on, somebody!” cried Mrs. Pentecost, eagerly. “I tell you again, I dote on music. We haven’t had half enough yet, have we, Sammy?” The Reverend Samuel made no reply. The unhappy man had reasons of his own—not exactly in his bosom, but a little lower—for remaining silent, in the midst of the general hilarity and the general applause. Alas for humanity! Even maternal love is alloyed with mortal fallibility. Owing much already to his excellent mother, the Reverend Samuel was now additionally indebted to her for a smart indigestion. Nobody, however, noticed as yet the signs and tokens of internal revolution in the curate’s face. Everybody was occupied in entreating everybody else to sing. Miss Milroy appealed to the founder of the feast. “Do sing something, Mr. Armadale,” she said; “I should so like to hear you!” “If you once begin, sir,” added the cheerful Pedgift, “you’ll find it get uncommonly easy as you go on. Music is a science which requires to be taken by the throat at starting.” “With all my heart,” said Allan, in his good-humored way. “I know lots of tunes, but the worst of it is, the words escape me. I wonder if I can remember one of Moore’s Melodies? My poor mother used to be fond of teaching me Moore’s Melodies when I was a boy.” “Whose melodies?” asked Mrs. Pentecost. “Moore’s? Aha! I know Tom Moore by heart.” “Perhaps in that case you will he good enough to help me, ma’am, if my memory breaks down,” rejoined Allan. “I’ll take the easiest melody in the whole collection, if you’ll allow me. Everybody knows it—‘Eveleen’s Bower.’ ” “I’m familiar, in a general sort of way, with the national melodies of England, Scotland, and Ireland,” said Pedgift Junior. “I’ll accompany you, sir, with the greatest pleasure. This is the sort of thing, I think.” He seated himself cross-legged on the roof of the cabin, and burst into a complicated musical improvisation wonderful to hear—a mixture of instrumental flourishes and groans; a jig corrected by a dirge, and a dirge enlivened by a jig. “That’s the sort of thing,” said young Pedgift, with his smile of supreme confidence. “Fire away, sir!” Mrs. Pentecost elevated her trumpet, and Allan elevated his voice. “Oh, weep for the hour when to Eveleen’s Bower—” He stopped; the accompaniment stopped; the audience waited. “It’s a most extraordinary thing,” said Allan; “I thought I had the next line on the tip of my tongue, and it seems to have escaped me. I’ll begin again, if you have no objection. ‘Oh, weep for the hour when to Eveleen’s Bower—’ ” “‘The lord of the valley with false vows came,’” said Mrs. Pentecost. “Thank you, ma’am,” said Allan. “Now I shall get on smoothly. ‘Oh, weep for the hour when to Eveleen’s Bower, the lord of the valley with false vows came. The moon was shining bright—’” “No!” said Mrs. Pentecost. “I beg your pardon, ma’am,” remonstrated Allan. “‘The moon was shining bright—’ ” “The moon wasn’t doing anything of the kind,” said Mrs. Pentecost. Pedgift Junior, foreseeing a dispute, persevered sotto voce with the accompaniment, in the interests of harmony. “Moore’s own words, ma’am,” said Allan, “in my mother’s copy of the Melodies.” “Your mother’s copy was wrong,” retorted Mrs. Pentecost. “Didn’t I tell you just now that I knew Tom Moore by heart?” Pedgift Junior’s peace-making concertina still flourished and groaned in the minor key. “Well, what did the moon do?” asked Allan, in despair. “What the moon ought to have done, sir, or Tom Moore wouldn’t have written it so,” rejoined Mrs. Pentecost. “‘The moon hid her light from the heaven that night, and wept behind her clouds o’er the maiden’s shame!’ I wish that young man would leave off playing,” added Mrs. Pentecost, venting her rising irritation on Gustus Junior. “I’ve had enough of him—he tickles my ears.” “Proud, I’m sure, ma’am,” said the unblushing Pedgift. “The whole science of music consists in tickling the ears.” “We seem to be drifting into a sort of argument,” remarked Major Milroy, placidly. “Wouldn’t it be better if Mr. Armadale went on with his song?” “Do go on, Mr. Armadale!” added the major’s daughter. “Do go on, Mr. Pedgift!” “One of them doesn’t know the words, and the other doesn’t know the music,” said Mrs. Pentecost. “Let them go on if they can!” “Sorry to disappoint you, ma’am,” said Pedgift Junior; “I’m ready to go on myself to any extent. Now, Mr. Armadale!” Allan opened his lips to take up the unfinished melody where he had last left it. Before he could utter a note, the curate suddenly rose, with a ghastly face, and a hand pressed convulsively over the middle region of his waistcoat. “What’s the matter?” cried the whole boating party in chorus. “I am exceedingly unwell,” said the Reverend Samuel Pentecost. The boat was instantly in a state of confusion. “Eveleen’s Bower” expired on Allan’s lips, and even the irrepressible concertina of Pedgift was silenced at last. The alarm proved to be quite needless. Mrs. Pentecost’s son possessed a mother, and that mother had a bag. In two seconds the art of medicine occupied the place left vacant in the attention of the company by the art of music. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I always suspected that Klingons were barbaric. The fact that they don't distinguish between concertinas and accordions proves it beyond all reasonable doubt!

Well, Chris - I am a Scot, and it would be nice if I could dictate how the international postal system works. But as I can't, I guess it's best to just go with the flow. The Swiss Cantons (to take just one example) are also proud if their identity, but if you were to address a letter to "Glarus" instead of "Switzerland" ... Anyway, enough of this off-topic rambling

With respect to Chris, the correct international address for the UK is "United Kingdom". In these days of automated processing, your letter will have a better chance if you use the proper country code. Scotland and England are still in the same country, for the time being at least!

Spotted this amongst the other Corbis concertina photos: U1079445 (Rights Managed) Burl Ives with Accordion Original caption: During one of his trips to Italy, Burl Ives was approached by a Navy officer to give a performance for the men aboard his ship. Ives went along and sang for hours for the seaman who cheered loudly after each song. As a token of their appreciation, the sailors gave Burl this rare ivory encrusted 17th Century Concertina. Previously the men had received it as an expression of gratitude form an Italian community. Date Photographed: March 4, 1955 A 17th Century concertina! "Rare" indeed!

I used to know Hamish and bought one of his early boxes. I have also been in his Edinburgh workshop and seen how he put things together. Chris Timson is right - he did make use of CAM machines, in areas such as the reed-pans. His aim was to focus his time where handwork was critical, particularly the reeds. So far as I recall, he made everything himself, even the screws! The reeds are high-quality hand-made traditional concertina reeds, not Italian imports. It's a very decent instrument with a good tone and action. The main drawback, as Chris says, is the weight. Hamish felt that he would be selling them around the world and wanted them to be trouble free, so they are over-engineered compared to an Aeola. It seems to have worked - my instrument has been reliable. And so long as your hands are reasonably strong, you get used to the weight soon enough. Last I heard, Hamish and Freda have moved from Edinburgh to the Orkneys, though I can't reach him there and I suspect he isn't active at present. Someone told me he is sailing round the world, but I have no idea if this is true!

Another name that comes to mind is Peter Hall of The Gaugers, with his fine song accompaniments. Sadly, he is no longer with us, but there is a mini-revival of interest in the band and much of their output is still available.

Hi folks Just spotted this thread. I've been exiled from Edinburgh for a few years, but remember a thriving concertina scene. In the first rank, apart from Norman Chalmers, Hamish Bain and Stuart Eydmann who have already been mentioned, there was the precocious talent of Simon Thoumire. Simon is a respected player and teacher with his own publishing company: Footstompin Records. For anyone who doesn't know his work, Simon's concertina recordings are outstanding and well worth checking out. Plus there were a number of more workaday players, myself included. It was not at all uncommon to find 2 or 3 concertinas at a session. But it must be conceded that the concertina is pretty marginal in the overall traditional scene. In comparison to Ireland, there is nothing approaching an accepted style for Scottish music on the concertina. The plus side is that this allows for a lot of creativity - so we get Norman's pipe-influenced West-Highland style contrasting with, say, Simon's more jazz influenced style. Both wonderful players, and both entirely different. Why no Anglos? I think the answer is pretty straightforward: Scottish traditional music (especially the East Coast tradition) has more of a classical influence than Irish, and is played in a wider range of keys. So a fully chromatic instrument is more convenient. By the way, if there is anyone playing Scottish music on the English in the West Midlands please drop me a line if you'd like to get together sometime...