Originally published in FoT Issue 101: Oct-Dec 2004
An interesting discussion on sessions unravelled in uk.music.folk recently - indeed may be unravelling still. Chris Rockcliffe started the ball of yarn rolling with the following question: “We’ve been quite successful with the local folk and roots club at getting musicians in a mixed-bag acoustic night to play together, collaborate on tunes and songs and have fun but, no matter how hard I try, I am unable to get very many of the local traditional tune session and melody instrument players here to participate in, or even come as listeners to, any other type of folk and roots music evening. I’m talking about nights where the performance is shared with, by and for an audience - that is either a come-all-ye type session; a local freebie concert slot with just beer money on offer; or even a properly advertised and paid support slot to an appropriate ticketed concert. I like all kinds of music and thoroughly enjoy listening as well as playing - although when I go to some better tunes sessions, I’m often just a listener by preference. The inclusion of many Celtic style, traditional - diddly - musicians from local sessions would really add to the mix of local folk and roots music; create all kinds of collaborations. Many are very good or at least adequate musicians indeed - playing English, Scots, Irish with also bits of eastern European, klezmer, old-timey, gypsy jazz, western swing and bluegrass in there too. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m flogging a dead horse (no jokes please) to even try. I’ve been trying to understand the mindset(s). I can understand the need to have different kinds of nights - singer’s sessions and tune only sessions. But all I’m trying to do is to create one or two interesting additional evenings and get the two distinctly different groups of musicians mingling just a little more. The Monday session here which used to be a real mix and fun, has now turned into a purist early-evening tunes - eastern European and broadly Celtic - bash (and leaving to go who knows where) with other elements of old-timey and jazz, which used to be mixed-in, taking the late-evening slot. The Thursday session here - a tunes-only do - is really very serious and never seems to get past the warming up and ticking over stage. Somehow it seems to be a rather po-faced running-through-the-motions rehearsal in front of pub regulars who don’t take a blind bit of notice and who - when they do comment - can be very scathing. Some people are impatient only wanting to play themselves - all evening - (there’s always someone who hogs the limelight isn’t there?) and not quietly listen to others. Some don’t support any music evening which has any kind of entry charge applied to it; some are music purists who don’t want to listen to much else but their own narrow perspective. There is some musical snobbery there - I’ve heard it first hand, but many of the participants are also singers. So where’s the logic? Why the stand-off by those who play melody instruments? Maybe someone can explain it to me.”
Roger Gall was first to respond with these thoughts: “As a contributor to all of the events you describe, I will try. The tune session (in the UK anyway) is the rarer beast. Ones devoted to particular types of tunes are even rarer. It is really just for the musicians to trade and learn tunes in public, where anyone can drop in, than for the entertainment of any non-participants. It may sound and look like performing but it is not that, the main object is to play tunes together, not to play so fast or to find obscure tunes to blow everyone else away - but that can and does happen, sadly ... The singing events can be similar but are more a collection of individual performances and of waiting one’s turn. Some singing events are open to everyone joining in (at least the chorus) but not all welcome any instrumental help. Some indeed are very anti-instruments. The tune session is less a stand-off by melody players than them choosing to attend (the rarer) events where they will know there will be a welcome and they will be able to join it all night - if they know or can contribute to the tune being played. It is sad that attempts to keep tune sessions to that, in the face (sometimes) of many singers who insist, or are encouraged by non-participants, to ‘give us a song’, are seen as being a stand-off. Similar attempts to inflict session tunes upon a singing event, would probably not be made but if they were - would also not be met with general approval.”
David Kilpatrick followed on from Scotland with the encouraging observation that young musicians within his experience are approaching singers wanting to learn songs, and vice versa: “They are equally able to suggest to guitar-toting singers that they ‘give us a tune’ - not a song - because the same is happening in reverse. Young folk/trad guitar/zouk/etc players are learning decent tune repertoires as well as accompaniment and singing it they do it. Newcastle University folk music degree course, Dundee’s courses, and the Royal College in Glasgow are all helping with this because the ‘performing arts’ aspect forces the students to do a lot of different things. The kids can go and do their degrees and get permanent careers in music from a trad-folk background, which is a relatively new development. In the process they are being prevented from taking a narrow view.”
Roger Gall makes another important point: “What occurs is simply the nature of the event that has been suggested to the licensee and accepted by them for that night, in much the same way as a request for a darts evening or a quiz night. If the casual non-participants in these kind of pub events were to demand something else from the participants rather than respecting that arrangement, it would be thought bad-form.”
Paul Burke made an interesting comment: “I don’t like mixed song/tune sessions usually. For a satisfactory tunes session, you need to get a head of steam going, so the tunes and ideas start to flow. When each tune (set) is played in isolation, it’s as though you are starting from cold each time. Remember, a session is NOT a performance, it’s a co-operative.”
But David Kilpatrick also had a valid counter-argument: “Songs can be just as much an inspiration for the next tune as a tune can be - and vice-versa. They don’t have to involved stopping, clearing the throat, mumbling for two minutes and then singing something which breaks the pace or changes the key. A good singer can fit into a fast session.”
And Jon Freeman added: “I think the problem is that it can take time for players, even those who play together regularly, to start fitting in well together. If you get too many interruptions, the tune side may never reach this point. The difference is perhaps not noticeable to a singer or a listener but the musicians know and feel when the session is as Paul Burke describes as ‘in full flow’.”
I’ll let Paul Sullivan - in the past a regular musician from the Buxton scene from which this thread emanates - enter the fray with some perceptive comments: “Funny thing is, I seem to be singing all the time... The session is not about arrangements and finer detail, but about immersing yourself in the isolation tank of the trad tune continuum. As someone has pointed out elsewhere in this convoluted set of threads, when it’s really working well the players know it, and there are very few musical thrills to compare. Maybe the central point is that the session players don’t mind if it’s a full room or an empty one - the atmosphere is (nearly) always generated by what happens amongst the musicians. I’ve seen several not-too-hot players come up with wonderful stuff when the mood is right. Personally, I’ve sometimes surprised myself by rattling through tunes that I didn’t realise I knew, only to find the intricacies fled the following day. It’s a very modest piece of magic, the session. It’s also like a drug, and I’m not making this point lightly. Sessions are terribly addictive. They’re not always particularly sociable, either - I don’t entirely understand why they play such a central role in my life. Perhaps its as simple as this - the musicians who attend come-all-ye nights and clubs want a generous and sharing night of social intercourse, whereas session players are inherently anti-social, and play largely to avoid the intricacies of conversation. They hide behind their instruments until the beer has numbed their senses enough to re-emerge into the outside world. I say this as a form of catharsis, you understand.”
Admittedly this column has been distilled from some more than 70 messages posted to the newsgroup, and perhaps not distilled enough for the editor’s requirements, but I hope it gives some idea of how much food for thought newsgroups can give. It’s not all swapping insults, Viagra and kiddie porn, honest!
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