On the 25th January, Scotland and many with Scots heritage will gather together to enjoy Burns Night. Usually that takes the form of a meal known as a Burns Supper. The rest of the world are probably shrugging their shoulders and asking “What is Burns Night?”

This is a key date in the Scottish calendar. Somewhere between the more low key Saint Andrew’s Day and the bonanza that is Hogmanay. Put simply, it’s a night to remember Scotland’s best loved poet, Robert Burns and has become a celebration of all things Scottish.

First, some history. Even before his death, Burns’ cottage at Alloway, Ayrshire, had been sold to the incorporation, or guild, of shoemakers of Ayr, one of whose members turned it into an alehouse. It was here, on 29 January 1801 (they got his birthday wrong) that soldiers of the Argyll Fencibles (militia) met to hear their band play – and to use the services of his cottage in its new role. 

The first recorded Burns Supper took place at Alloway in the same year, but on the anniversary of his death (21st July). This first supper was organised by the Reverend Hamilton Paul for a gathering of nine ‘honest men of Ayr’. For some years there was a question over whether a woman had been in attendance, as one of those noted had the Christian name Primrose, an uncommon name for a man. It involved a speech and multiple toasts; to eat there was haggis (which was addressed) and, a mercifully lost tradition, sheep’s head, but given the social status of those present, refreshment was probably wine and ale rather than whisky. From records, subsequent Suppers were mostly (sometimes militantly) all-male affairs until far into the twentieth century: a curious slant on Burns’ own life as well as on the first dinner. The ‘toast to the lasses’ was traditionally thanks for the cooking and an appreciation of the women in Burns’ life, only later degenerating into a sexist (often misogynistic) rant, and more recently, a numerous appreciation of Burns’ attraction to the fairer sex.

Celebrations were held twice yearly until 1809 when participants settled on January (25th), because this fell in a slack period of the agricultural year. Commercialisation of his birthplace did little to honour the memory of his life and work, and in 1822 the poet John Keats complained bitterly of how both the ambience and the landlord of the Alloway inn degraded Burns’ greatness.

Any group of individuals can hold a Burns Supper. These blend sociability and conversation, keynotes of the Scottish Enlightenment, with more universal practices such as commensality and drinking. Sociability was (and still is) more consistently promoted by associations. Set up in the early 1800s, Paisley (which has the earliest extant minute book starting in 1805) and Greenock vie for the title of first Burns Club, but after 1810 these associations proliferated. Popularised in the press, Burns Suppers and Burns Clubs were widespread by 1830 not only in his native Ayrshire, but also throughout Scotland. The great Ayr Festival of 1844 enhanced international awareness of the celebration, and the creation of the Burns Federation in 1885 brought together hundreds of Clubs worldwide. There are as many as 400 affiliated clubs nowadays. The first all-female club was founded at Shotts in Lanarkshire in 1920, and the Federation, now based in Kilmarnock, had to wait until 1970 for its first woman president.

Burns died at a time of profound economic, social and political change when writers perceived that Scottish identity was being lost. Romantic and anti-modernist, they found in him a symbol of an allegedly uncorrupted Scotland. Burns became a uniquely elastic symbol over time and space, as valuable to those who did not know his language (English or Scots) as to those who did; from laissez-faire liberals (nineteenth century) to radicals and socialists (twentieth century); from the urban middle classes to the rural working people from which Burns and his inspiration came; from Japanese to those of Anglo-Saxon stock; from temperance campaigners to generous imbibers; from nationalists to unionists. The cult surrounding him has been reshaped multiple times in the more than two centuries since his death. Identities have moulded representations of Burns as much as Burns has formed identities, but Burns has proved a uniquely enduring and accessible icon. Celebrating the centenary of his birth in 1859, the Boston, Mass. Burns Club, founded in 1850, affirmed that there had ‘never been any national, sectional, or other bar to membership’, other than a love of liberty, ladies and republicanism.

Representations of Burns mix the particular and the historically accurate with the general and the fabricated. So too with the Suppers that commemorate him. They have been appropriated to express bourgeois male solidarity and commercial needs as much as universality, though it is possible that the enduring popularity of these gatherings lies in their safely apolitical nature.

It is curious that an invented and reinvented tradition bearing Burns’ name should have become a powerful symbol of Scots at home and, even more, abroad, when another active contribution of his has been so little developed. This was his confident and skillful use of Country Scots. Burns was celebrated in the nineteenth century for preserving a dying language, and the use of Scots dialect is integral with the Suppers. Yet it is another surrendered or suppressed tongue, Gaelic, which has been resuscitated in the guise of an independent ‘national’ language in modern Scotland. This is despite never having been spoken by all Scots, even in the middle ages, and being now spoken by just 1% of Scotland’s population, most of whom live in greater Glasgow.

 — A traditional Burns Night menu

The first course is traditionally soup, either Scotch broth, cock-a-leekie or Cullen skink – all good Scottish recipes using fine Scottish ingredients.

Haggis is then served either as the main course or an intermediate course.

The haggis is accompanied by champit tatties (mashed potato) and neeps (mashed turnip). Sometimes carrot is mixed with the neeps, although this is not traditional. Many suppers now include a whisky sauce to accompany the haggis.

If haggis is the intermediate course, it’s often followed by a main of Scottish salmon, Scottish beef, a steak pie or game such as grouse or pheasant. This would be accompanied by potatoes and seasonal vegetables.

Scots are known for their sweet tooth, so “Puddin” is an essential part of the meal! It might be a traditional Scottish trifle or cranachan, a dish of oatmeal, cream and raspberries with a hint of whisky.

Finally, a cheeseboard is passed around, usually with a selection of fine Scottish cheeses such as Caboc, Arran cheddar, Dunlop cheese from Ayrshire (similar to cheddar) or a Lanark Blue, served with Scottish chutneys and oatcakes.

This can be accompanied by port or whisky and followed by coffee and tea, before the speeches begin.

 — What happens at a Burns Supper?

Most suppers start with a grace, most commonly the ‘Selkirk Grace’ attributed to Burns:

Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat and we can eat,
Sae let the Lord be Thankit!

 — Addressing the haggis

This has become a key part of all Burns Suppers and involves the Addresser, the chef, a piper and 3 glasses of whisky (drams). It’s likely that all guests will be given a dram at this point, if they don’t already have one.

The piper leads the procession of the haggis, carried on a platter by the chef. As they circle the room, guests clap in time to the music. The haggis is presented in front of the Addresser, who will then recite the ‘Address to the Haggis’.

After the poem, the Addresser gives a glass of whisky to the chef and the piper, and invites the whole company to ‘toast the haggis’.

The chef will then take the haggis and leave the room to plate this part of the meal, but sometimes the haggis is passed around the table for guests to help themselves, adding tatties and neeps from large bowls placed on the table.

 — Speeches and entertainment

After the meal, the speeches and entertainment begin in earnest, starting with a toast to the monarch, known as the Loyal Toast.

This is followed by the main toast of the night, to the Immortal Memory of Robert Burns. The Immortal Memory should be a heartfelt toast to his life and works. At more formal dinners this speech focuses on a theme of Burns’s works, ending with a toast where all guests are invited to raise their glass.

The next speech will be the Toast to the Lassies, a reflection of Burns’s ‘appreciation’ of women. Traditionally, this should take the form of a witty reflection on the relationships between Burns and his women, then expanded to men and women in general, ending with the men rising to toast ‘the Lassies’.

This is followed by the Reply to the Toast to the Lassies. Nowadays, this speech falls to a selected wife or girlfriend, who will be witty and seek to correct the previous speaker’s assumptions about the amazing creature that is woman, and their sorry lot to be the adult supervision of their men. The speech often ends with rousing applause from the women present, who then rise and raise their glasses to the men, toasting ‘the Laddies’.

At larger or more formal Burns Suppers, there may be further speeches that reflect on the guests and absent friends, Scotland and a formal vote of thanks.

The speeches are followed by entertainment – often including recitations and music, especially pipes and singing. The night should end with a rousing rendition of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ and three cheers, marking the end of a successful Burns Night before guests depart.

I’ve heard it said many times that “I’m too old to learn to play bagpipes” or “I’m past improving my playing”.  I do not accept the validity of these two, or other similar, statements.  I believe that age is not the barrier to beginning or improving that we allow ourselves to believe.

I base this on both my own experience teaching pipers of various ages and stages, which was supported by a recent lecture I attended at the University of Western Sydney, delivered by The MARCS Institute for Brain, Behaviour & Development at the Bankstown campus.  The topic of the afternoon was “The effects of learning a musical instrument in later life”. The evidence states that learning is a process that starts at birth and ends at death. What startled me most was that the lecturers were able to demonstrate unequivocally that learning something as complex as an instrument actually improved mental and physical health in adults over a certain age. Not only did they enjoy the experience of making music, but their memories improved, their cognitive abilities and social skills were enhanced, and a lot of other benefits were shown - not relevant to this discussion, but you see my point. There is further support for my belief in a fascinating, very readable book, by Dr. Norman Doidge : “The Brain That Changes Itself”.  The ability of an aged brain to adapt, change and learn is often way under-estimated.

Lastly, I myself have experienced some elements of learning later in life, having taken 25 years away from touching a set of bagpipes, between my mid-twenties and 50 years old.  During that time, serving in the military, I suffered a traumatic brain injury - memory issues, lost fine motor skills and cognitive impairments and all - and essentially gave up on playing at all. A neuroscience worker at the VA when I retired persuaded me to pick up the practice chanter again, and while the process of relearning everything I’d ever experienced as a piper was not easy, progress was remarkable, and I absolutely changed my … tune. While I had a lot of mental pathways intact, I had a lot of work to do to relearn as an older musician.  I have felt that experience – and, might I say, been rather successful at improving.  I am now in my early 70’s and I believe I am currently playing better than I have at any time over the last 20 years, just not at the level I used to be at.

In my experience, there are a number of reasons why older learners and musicians don’t improve.  I’ll simplify my thinking a little here to make the points.  I’ll also ignore those players who aren’t bothered to try and improve, although I wonder how many are of that mind because they actually believe they can’t improve.

Of course, there is a little more complexity than this blog post will contain, because this isn’t a course in neuroplasticity of aging, but here are my opinions - your mileage may vary.

First and foremost, we believe that age stops us from being able to learn and advance. In fact, we have that reinforced by people around us all the time.   I have heard of a man in his 60s wanting to learn pipes being told bluntly “You’re too old to learn”. The sheer arrogance of that statement is astonishing, but it seems that people actually believe this. We see younger people learning quickly and conclude that our own slower progress must be due to age.  There is reason to believe that older minds learn differently and may learn new things at a different speed, but the belief that it is an obstacle is a major issue of itself, and is not supported by fact.

Older people don’t practise like younger people. The younger person that advances quickly typically does practise, even though it may appear not.  The trick is in the effectiveness of their approach to practice.  Everybody, young and mature, can gain significant advantage from practising in an effective way. 

Mature people are often distracted from practising by life events – one of the kids is sick, it’s Mary’s speech night at school, Johnnie’s doing his Master’s degree this year so he needs peace and quiet to study. These are life’s realities that restrict practice, but are not because of some characteristic of the older brain. If you practice, even in small amounts, and do it effectively, you can learn and improve, regardless of age. 

A fear of stepping outside of a comfort zone. I know more mature players who have been playing bagpipes for 40 years and upwards and show fear and doubt about trying to do something different.  By definition, if you ain’t changing, you ain’t improving.  If you’re prepared to trust your (presumably competent) tutor and make changes, you can get better. Another aspect of this mind set is when a highly advanced player joins the band, and suddenly you are all aware of how much more you have to do to improve. Accepting the challenge and asking for help goes a long way to making that adjustment - s/he might feel like s/he is unwelcome or out of place. We definitely need to be challenged, and jealousy isn’t useful or helpful in raising the standard of the group. Making challenges a positive experience shows maturity and allows us to grow as musicians.

Mature age people seem to want to build the house before the foundation slab has dried. This is a case of more haste, less speed.   A young person in my experience, will accept what their tutor asks them to do, and just do exactly that. Many pupils I have taught later in their lives are impatient to play and so don’t stop to take the proper foundation steps to learning and improving. As an example, I will ask a pupil to play the first bar of a tune and stop, so we can focus on and exercise particular things. So often, an older pupil won’t stop, will play the entire first eight bars, and the value of that moment will have been largely lost. Not surprisingly, in this manner, a rickety, unreliable, “not quite right” house gets built, and those baked-in habits are extremely hard to break.

Physical disability. The above points naturally assume a body that physically works.  Arthitis, crushed fingers, carpal tunnel syndrome and physical damage to the brain are examples of things that could hinder or even totally prevent someone from learning or improving.  However, too often I hear “My fingers don’t move as fast as they used to” and similar comments as reasons for not being able to learn.  Finger nimbleness comes mostly from the ability of the brain to send the right messages to the fingers, which is not as much of an age restriction as we often believe, but rather a lack of practice. Even an arthritic can play a tune on the practice chanter despite the physical issues of stiff joints, and doing so improves dexterity, mental awareness and all that stuff. 

Over the last fifty years or so, Bill Muzzy and I have developed our methodology for training our pupils which has proven to be very effective in overcoming many improvement obstacles, particularly relating to finger technique.  It is a particular way of engaging deeply with their brains during lessons, and which they can take away with them for their own practice, making it more effective in a shorter space of time.  Some of our pupils have laughingly nicknamed it “brain frying”, but I believe they would all now say they see the value of it.  Note that the methodology involves the tutor’s brain working as hard as theirs – so, a kind of a “mutual frying”.  This methodology is as applicable to the more mature brain as to the younger one.

To conclude this section, before you disrespect yourself by saying you are too old to improve, take note of what I have said and look for ways and opportunities to do exactly that.  And if anyone tells you that you are beyond it, treat them with the (lack of) respect they deserve.  Remember, your music is your hobby to enjoy your way, not theirs.

Making Sense of the Learning Process.

Learning any skill generally involves transferring knowledge and capability from someone else to you.  This can be direct as in face-to-face tuition, mentoring or coaching, or it can be indirect as in reading books or articles, listening to someone playing, or watching what others do.

However you learn, it is wise not just to accept what you see or hear as the correct thing to do, but to assess WHY it is the best thing to do.  In other words, whatever you learn, you should assess if it makes sense. The real question should be ‘does what you’re doing give you that “ahah!” moment, or is it merely going through the motions’?

I have seen many examples of pipers doing something because they have seen someone else do it.  By way of example, there has been a fad of playing D while adjusting drones.  Why?  Because some competent player overseas was seen doing it.  To me, this makes absolutely no sense.  The reason I recommend playing low and high A while adjusting your drones is to provide the least distracting note to be able to ignore its sound while getting the drone to set where the chanter needs it.  I can see my approach makes sense, but I can’t see how playing a D and tuning does, unless it’s part of a chanter riff to ensure the sound is pleasing to the ear. 

I have seen multiple unusual methods and logistics in tuning drones and in tuning bands.  I have seen some highly unusual ways of playing embellishments, as well as some unusual and surprising methods of practising exercises.  The question I always ask is “How does that action or sound make sense?”  Sometimes they do and I take away some new learning, but I invariably ask myself that question if I don’t get the reason right off the bat.

So, as one who is trying to learn new things, it’s good to understand not only WHAT to do, but WHY to do it that way.  When you know WHY you do it like that, you are understanding principles behind things and can then apply those same principles to lots of other situations.

We all need to learn from more experienced players, but always keep in mind that even the most knowledgeable or accomplished players don’t know everything and occasionally do things that actually don’t make sense.  I recently saw a world famous soloist tuning his drones by what I’ll call the “initial two drone” method (tuning a tenor drone while the bass keeps sounding).  While in this case it made sense to the piper, I don’t know whether he did it this way normally, or because he had a sore shoulder and couldn’t reach up to stop his bass drone. We shouldn’t assume the way others do things is necessarily valid; we should certainly always test why they make sense. Many great players achieve good results not because of how they do things, but in spite of them.

The point of all this is to encourage you to increase your learning by making sure that what you learn makes sense as you go.

Bill and I very much take this approach in our music teaching. We teach the principles and the reasons - the how and the why - not just the required actions.  Understanding the reasons why one plays a grip or a birl a certain way, or plays a specific grace note on the beat rather than the sentinel note of a turluath in certain tunes (for example), enables our students to apply their learning to many situations without needing our frequent input.

After a long, intense competition season or a hard year of playing back-to-back events, do you ever feel a bit tired, bored or burned out? I know that I do. When you're deep into any passion, sometimes a breather feels necessary.

In fitness, it's a must – rest is a necessary part of exercise regimes to build strength and energy over time. In fact, if you go too long without rest during high intensity workouts, you risk injury! And in a creative pursuit like music, constant rehearsals, high-pressure performances, or a relentless practice routine can really suck the joy and inspiration out of what should be an enjoyable hobby.

So, should you take a break from your piping or drumming during the off-season?

The answer is yes... but also no.

Clear as mud?

After a demanding season of performances, you might crave a break from the intensity. I have done it this last year a lot, because it’s been a series of cruises and travel that has literally eaten about 6 months out of my playing time. But a total break is not be the golden ticket for everyone. From personal experience, skipping practice sessions for too long creates inertia, making it a challenge to return to your usual routine. Tunes get forgotten, fingers get slower and embellishments become sloppy. Your pipes themselves become inefficient without use, requiring increased maintenance and tuning. And the longer you steer clear of your instrument, the more intimidating it becomes to pick it up again. So don't leave it too long!

If you're finding the lure of TV on the couch, or a trip to the market, or anything else you use as an excuse for not restarting your daily practice, more appealing than picking up your instrument after a festive season hiatus... maybe you just need a bit of a break from the intensity and pressure, but not necessarily from making music. Play one tune. Remember the pleasure playing the pipes brings, and relax. Start slow, redevelop the routine, and be gentle on yourself - we are always our own worst critics, so just play for pleasure and leave the criticism for a week or so.

Use this time for lighter, less demanding music-related activities to reignite your interest. It could be as simple as taking ten minutes for practicing just one tune per day, exploring some new music, experimenting with another instrument, or even just listening to some great piping tunes. The off-season is also a great opportunity to reflect on your process, work on techniques, do routine maintenance on your pipes, or even watch YouTube videos of performances. If you feel so burned out at the end of the season that you feel the need take a complete break, ask yourself – why are you feeling that way? If high-pressure or constant performances have left you drained, maybe you need to adjust your approach during the season to reduce the intensity, so you're able to sustain momentum and consistency even after the big gig or contest is over.

We all need a bit of downtime now and then. But taking a total break for an extended time can make it much harder to get motivated again... if at all. It’s too easy to stop completely, but the effort of restarting is even more challenging. So take this time to reflect, relax, and strike a balance with lighter intensity, more creative pursuits that keep you connected to your passion while you enjoy a well-deserved rest from the high-pressure stakes of intense performance prep. Bagpiping and drumming, like any passion, should bring joy, not feel like a tiresome chore.

It’s that time of the year when basketball takes center stage. The NCAA Final Four will be front and center, and the NBA will rapidly get into the final push toward the playoffs. It's the perfect time to take on this question.

I’ve been wondering why descriptions of the music genre of the Chieftains, the Dubliners, the Pogues, Lugnasa, Brian O’Donovan’s Christmas Celtic Sojourn, or the singing group Celtic Women, pronounce the “C” in Celtic as a hard C, while the basketball team, the Celtics, say it with a soft C. Why is this, and which is correct?

For years, English speakers have pronounced the word Celtic with a soft "C" in all contexts. It’s how people in the United Kingdom said the word in the late 19th century when the famed Glasgow soccer team, Celtic [soft 'C'], was formed. It's also how people in the northeastern states of the US and - some say - into Canada, said it in 1947, when the now beloved Boston basketball team debuted. This makes all the sense in the world. The word Celtics [with a soft 'C'] just reflects the way that English normally approaches the letter 'C' before the letter 'E’. 

In English, when the letter "C" is followed by an "E," it’s pretty much always said like an “S": Think "cement," "cellphone," "race" and "dance." As for why that is, we have to go back — way back, to the time of gladiators, chariot races and the famed Roman orator Cicero, — or should I say, “Kikero"? Classical Latin spoken in Ancient Rome had 'C' always as 'Kuh’. So, if you saw classical Latin and it had the words that we would recognize, 'et cetera,' they would say 'et ketera.'

Latin would, over the course of time, form the basis for numerous other languages — like Italian, French and Spanish — known today as the Romance [yes, a soft C] languages. Along the way, the hard “C” began to undergo a transformation. It’s actually pretty hard on the mouth to go from that “kuh” sound immediately into a vowel like an "E" or an "I," and so, the "C" began to slowly soften.

Over time, sounds at the back of the mouth, like 'kuh,' will assimilate forward sometimes when you have a vowel after them at the front of the mouth. It tries to be a stop — 'kuh' — but then it says, ah, frick it. And it becomes 'chuh.'

This is exactly what happened as Latin became Italian. The word for "celebrate" in Italian, "cellebrare," starts with a “ce” but is pronounced CHEH-leh-bra-reh. And perhaps you’ve enjoyed a nice after-dinner limoncello (pronounced lee-mon-CHEH-loh) in the North End. French language takes it one step further. In French, it moved on and the 'chuh' became 'suh’. This is even easier for the mouth. Think "c’est la vie" (pronounced SAY-lah-vee) or the painter, Paul Cezanne (pronounced SEH-zahn). Both start with “ce" and are pronounced with a full-on soft "C" sound. And it’s the French that brought this particular linguistic quirk to the English language.  

One might remember that the French ran England for a little while. They had this little fight in 1066 when William the Conqueror came over. Not only did he invade and take over England, but for a while, he made Old French the official language of the land. This chapter of English history would permanently alter the still-developing English language that was being spoken there in numerous ways, including the adoption of a soft "C" before the letter "E."

But that French influence did not extend to the various other languages spoken around the British Isles, in places like Scotland, Ireland and Wales — languages of the Celts. In Irish and Scottish and Welsh and so forth, the letter 'C' is always “kuh” and Celtic is 'Celtic' [with a hard 'C'].

The same goes for Classical Latin. So, while the rules of the now frenchified English language suggest “Celtic” should be said with a soft 'C' — and for a long time, that was how English speakers said it — that has changed since the mid-20th century. We have gotten to a state of consciousness in English now where we try to pronounce words and names from other languages the way that they would have us pronounce them. 

But sports is a realm notorious for holding fast to traditions. And so, while we’ve adjusted our pronunciation of the word "Celtic" when talking about music, or language or culture, it should be no surprise that the two places the legacy of Celtic with a soft "C" live on is with a soccer team in Scotland and a basketball team here in the U.S.

So, in short, we moved from 'kuh' through 'chuh' to 'suh' to get Celtic [with a soft 'C'], but then, the Celts [with a hard 'C'] said, 'Hey, hey, hey, we never did that, it’s wrong, and we’re not going to do it.' So there you go. That is why we pronounce the Celtics with a soft 'C' but Celtic music [with a hard 'C'].

Before learning the bagpipe, it's important to set yourself simple and achievable goals and expectations for yourself. This will help you stay motivated and focused, and will give you a sense of direction as you progress. Some possible goals might include mastering a particular tune, playing in front of others, or joining a pipe band. It's important to set realistic goals and to be patient with yourself as you work towards them. The bagpipes can be a very hard instrument to learn to play well and takes some time to master, so working through things slowly and deliberately with a teacher, a supportive group of players and participating from an early stage is imperative. 

The learning process for the pipes involves mastering the fundamentals, such as holding the bagpipes, blowing into the bag, and playing basic notes and tunes. As you progress, you'll need to learn more advanced techniques, such as embellishments, tuning, and playing in different styles. The learning process can be broken down into several stages, and it's important to approach each stage with patience and dedication. 

While it's possible to learn to play the bagpipes on your own, having a good teacher can be incredibly beneficial. The teacher can provide guidance on proper technique, offer feedback on your playing, and help you progress more quickly than you would on your own. They can also provide motivation and accountability, which can be especially helpful when you hit a plateau or encounter challenges. Joining a local band can help by creating a learning environment with other students, hearing tunes played in a group session, learning maintenance and tuning, and providing a teacher and lessons you can do from home at your own pace.

However, in far too many band halls around the world, traditionalist teachers and pipe majors expect beginners to learn the positions of fingers on the chanter for each note, learn all the embellishments, learn tempo and timing and learn to read music, all at once. Students then must memorize a certain number of complex tunes in full before they're permitted to even touch a set of bagpipes.

This method is the traditional way of the bagpipe, but can take months, if not years, for some students. That long wait is not only demoralizing but, in my opinion, it’s also counterproductive, setting them up for a bigger fall. 

Incorporating simple tunes on the full bagpipe from the beginning while simultaneously addressing finger position and timing/accuracy is paramount to someone starting out. Mastery of such tunes as “Scots Wha’ Hey” and “Gin I were a Baron’s Hier”  on the pipes proper introduce simple embellishments, and recording at the table is invaluable for addressing mistakes without frightening or bullying the student. 

Once my students have a couple of tunes locked in on their practice chanters, I introduce the bagpipe.  I cork off the student’s chanter at the reed seat (these are tiny corks, but you want the student to get the feel of the whole set right up front) and have him/her air up and strike in, so they just sound one drone, the other drones corked, and while they keep the drone sounding, I tune it to my chanter. I will then play the tune alongside the student with my companion drone corked off so they get to hear how their drone mixes with the drones on my pipes, as well as hearing the melody. As their stamina and control expands, I’ll uncork their second drone, cork the companion drone on my own pipes, and then progressively the third, finally playing the melody on my chanter only as the student holds the drones. 

That’s when the student gets introduced to the band practices. They learn to strike in on command, cut off on command and maintain pressure and steady tone on the drones as the rest of us play the tunes. Once I am comfortable that the student is comfortable playing drones, I ease him or her into playing a tune or two with the rest of us at events. That gets the student participating in a very real way while ensuring they have as little stress as possible as they get experience with the tuning, the tunes and sets we play. Immersion is a wonderful thing, because it encourages them to finger the tunes along with us without the fear of ruining the tune. 

The next transition is a reversal of roles, where the student plays their chanter with their drones goosed, while the instructor sounds the drones. Obviously, ensuring the student plays accurately and melodically is paramount here, and expanding their repertoire on practice chanter and pipe chanter helps them hear this. Once they have the technique, we reintroduce a drone a a time until they can strike in, play several tunes in unison with the band, and cut off. 

This progressive method builds confidence, teaches basics quickly and helps encourage mastery early. The expression of delight on the student’s face when we all play in unison is what makes teaching such a pleasure, because too many beginners hit a brick wall when they attempt to transition to the bagpipes – it just seems too much to handle. Sadly, only a few outliers successfully stick with the traditional method, leading to an unfortunately high attrition rate among beginners.

And even amongst those who transition successfully, juggling all those skills at once can lead to some terrible habits becoming ingrained...

So should our goal be to only foster bagpiping outliers? Or to find a way to make bagpiping as straightforward and accessible as possible for anyone who wants to play?

Of course, we want the latter. Though outliers are always welcome, the goal is to help every student, regardless of their skills find joy, satisfaction and worthwhile progress in their bagpipe journey. The fastest and most successful way is to get them playing the full set progressing as they develop lip and skill, allowing the beginner to hear their pipes in unison with the band, and allowing them to progress at a comfortable rate to themselves.

In conclusion, getting started on the bagpipes involves mastering the fundamentals with a good teacher, choosing the right instrument, finding a suitable practice space, and setting appropriate goals and expectations for yourself. While it's possible to learn on your own, having a good teacher can be incredibly helpful in speeding up the learning process and providing guidance and feedback. With dedication and practice, anyone can learn to play the bagpipes well, and experience the joy of this unique and powerful instrument.

Ever heard of "unconscious competence"?

It's when you can do something on autopilot, flawlessly and effortlessly.

We had a guest piper join us this Sunday, from Wisconsin, but working in Wiggins, who drove an hour to us just to play with us in the Marshall Park Rotunda. We were definitely outclassed, even if he claimed his bagpipe sounded like he hadn’t played in a few weeks (which he hadn’t, but you’d never know because he was just THAT GOOD.) What got me was not that he slipped into our sets flawlessly and easily, like he’d been with us for years, it was his musicality. It was “unconscious competence” and a beautifully tuned bagpipe.

Often, when we think of pipers who can play with total, enviable unconscious competence, we might picture our favorite famous piper. You know the one – they make it look easy. 

But unconscious competence isn't always about peak performance. At its core, it's mostly about just doing things automatically.

It's like riding a bike or driving a car – like Yoda says, you don't think, you just do.

Ever heard the saying "You don't rise to the occasion, you fall to the level of your training"?

When you start juggling too many things at once – or adding the nerves of performance to an already stressful situation – chances are you won't miraculously perform better under the pressure (despite what every Hollywood blockbuster told you!).

When your brain is taxed by additional things draining your bandwidth for concentration, you will most likely regress to the level of skill, memorization, or playing ability that you're unconsciously competent at.

That doesn't just mean being able to do something really well. It means being able to do something really well but on autopilot!

To quote another well-known saying: "Don't practice until you get it right – practice until you can't get it wrong."

And I'd add to that – practice until you can't get it wrong even when you're distracted and nervous!

With the Festival at Harrison County Fairgrounds coming, I can no longer use excuses to fudge my playing by using my performance as a practice - I MUST practice daily so that my unconscious competence during my playing carries me through the fair and prevents me from ruining a great set of music. 

One more quote for you, since I am pushing them - “Practice does not make performance perfect - PERFECT practice does.” 

In other words, get it right, every time, so that error is not habit. Practice perfect tunes, and let it become unconscious competence.

Today, bagpipes are most closely associated with Scotland. But did you know they can be traced back to an entirely different continent?

Think of bagpipes, and you probably picture a piper wearing tartan kilt, feather bonnet, and the three-tasselled horse-hair sporran, playing ‘Scotland the Brave’, or perhaps ‘Skye Boat Song’. While Scotland undoubtedly has the strongest bagpiping tradition today, early evidence suggests that the instrument’s origins actually lie much further afield in place and time.

The bagpipe as we know it today consists of a pipe that is blown into (to fill the bag with air), at least one drone, and a chanter – a reeded hollow pipe with holes that allow the piper to play a melody. 

The history of the reed pipe goes back over a vast period in time to the third millennium B.C. Pipers played on reed sounded pipes and not flutes, and these stretch back unbroken for five thousand years. The earliest specimens of the reed sounded pipe have been found in Babylonia and ancient Egypt. Pipes excavated in the tombs of Egypt had actual reeds of straw, some with uncut straws beside them for their replacement. Straw reeds have been found in position in the pipes and protective cases also found with spare straws for cutting into reeds. Reeds found in the pipes have been identified as barley straw.

The earliest known specimens of reed pipes and the earliest depictions of them are all of the double pipe. These were two duplicate pipes of cylindrical bore, bound together, each sounding its own reed. Finger holes corresponding in position in each pipe indicate that each finger covered the same holes in both pipes and produced the same note by means of circular breathing, a technique familiar to Scottish bagpipe teachers and the Aborigines of Australia. Both pipes were intended to play the melody simultaneously. These pipes obviously produce twice the volume of sound that a single pipe would. They have been identified on a relief as early as 2700 B.C. But in other illustrations,  some of these parallel pipes seem even to have been fitted with only a single reed.

A second type of pipe has been found, and it also illustrated in similar fashion to the parallel pipe. These were the divergent pipes. Two separate pipes, held in each hand, and not bound together which were fitted with separate reeds. Since each pipe was fingered separately, many of them have been found with four holes in one pipe, (probably the right hand pipe) and three holes in the other, probably the left. The oldest set of pipes ever found, those of Ur, are divergent pipes. These were made of silver, indicating a highly developed instrument. They were found in the royal cemetery of Ur, around 2800 B.C. (Now in the university museum, Pennsylvania) unfortunately without reeds.

A common alteration to both types of pipes was found where one of the pipes had all its holes except one, altered by the application of resinous material, probably wax. This enabled one of the pipes to sound a different note from the other. This would result in a continuous drone sound or harmony against the melody pipe. In some cases, this drone note was varied when two of the holes of the drone pipe were left open. Thus, the drone sound could be lowered or raised at will to produce a greater harmony without difficulty. Some pipes have been found with a hook arrangement inside the pipe, extended from a chain, for the purpose of extracting the wax.

The status of the ancient world piper was held in great esteem, as judged by the grave of the piper in the Royal Sumerian Cemetery at Ur, and the ancient Greek statue erected to Phronomus, (the inventor of the ring stops.) Aside from his silver pipes, the Ur piper had the greatest number of offerings, more than any other burial in the cemetery. You guessed it, we have real evidence of a rich piper!  

During the last thousand years B.C. double pipes were known and played all over the old world of the Near and Middle East. The divergent type was to prove more popular than the parallel type, according to archeological finds, which show them more numerous. From Ur in Sumeria, the divergent double pipes can be traced right up through Mesopotamia and Arabia, to the Eastern Mediterranean and the countries of Israel and Phoenicia, to Troy and the Hellespont, right to into Greece and Rome. The divergent reed pipes were (by numbers) supreme in the ancient world - or they were so unpopular they were dumped in their thousands - piper’s spouses probably have an opinion here. However, the literature of both Greece and Rome indicate that the pipes were one of the facets of everyday life in both countries. The chain of development seems to have been Sumeria, Egypt, Phrygia, Lydia, Phoenicia, Greece, Rome and Rome's colonies.

The Greeks likely acquired the reed pipe early on from Egypt and from Asia Minor (Lydia). The first mention of the pipes in Greek literature is in the Iliad of Homer, and Greek tradition holds that reed pipes came to them from “Asiatic neighbours”. The Greeks used only divergent pipes, and could change the pitch of one or two of their pipes while playing by shortening the length of the reed held in the mouth (which the introduction of the bag would quickly end.) Greek pipes were intricate and sophisticated as was their method of blowing by nasal inhalation, using the cheeks as a reservoir, a method called circular breathing. Greece and Rome produced a golden age of piping which produced actual solo piping contests at Delphi and Pythia. A special pipe music known as the Pythian Nome, a musical form of five parts or movements was devised for these competitions.

The Romans claimed that their pipes had come to them from the Greeks. However, the Romans liked their pipes bigger and louder. From court records regarding noise complaints in Ancient Rome, we note the sheer volume of Roman sound had increased immeasurably from the ancient Greek aulos. In Rome, a piper's guild was formed where the use of pipes was a recognised accompaniment to religious ceremony by law. The law also provided for the use of pipes at funerals, public games and the theatre. These pipers were employed by the state permeating life in the city of Rome. Even Gaius Julius Caesar recounted that the vision of a piper beckoned him to cross the Rubicon. 

In Rome, stronger and stiffer reeds came into use, and street bands of pipes, drums, and cymbals became a familiar sight where, according to Ovid, pipers dressed up in fanciful garb. A procession of two hundred pipers was organised in 284A.D. at the Roman Circus by Carinus. However, it is with the Emperor Nero, in the first century A.D. that we have the first definite mention of a bag applied to reed pipes. His use of a bag is actually confirmed by Dio Chrysostom, who mentions Nero's use of the bagpipe in the second half of the first century A.D, as a means of avoiding 'the reproach of Athena' (distortion of the cheeks) caused by using the cheeks as an air reservoir. We know that the application of a bag was a new novelty during the first century A.D. because the Roman general Martial, not knowing what to call it, borrowed the Greek name for the pipes, aulos, and added the Greek word for a bag, askos, to it. He thus invents the word askaules to describe a bagpiper. The tibia utricularis was simply an adaptation of the bag principle to the Roman tibia, the drone and chanter version of the evolving double reed, divergent double pipe.

The divergent double pipes were also in ancient Britain before the Romans came for good in 43A.D. They are shown on ancient British coins long before the Roman invasion. The second century altar to the god Atys found at Gloster depicts a rudimentary bag blown drone which would seem to indicate that the application of a bag was not too long in being adopted in Britain. In his book "The Bagpipe", Francis Collinson does not allow this conclusion, but this line of reasoning is not easy to understand. We know the instrument flourished in Gaul and Britain after the Romans left. Scottish lowland mercenaries served with the Roman Legions in the Danube campaign. The Roman occupation lasted for some three hundred and sixty years and we all know, all roads of culture led to Rome, because we know for a fact that the Latin army introduced the bag. By the time the Romans left, the instrument with bag, one drone and a chanter flourished in Britain, Northern Spain and Gaul (modern-day France). There’s even a fascinating oral tradition about this passed down among Northern Italian bagpipers to this day.

According to the oral record, when Caesar invaded Britain, he hid his bagpipers from the mounted Celtic forces who opposed him. When the cavalry moved in, Caesar ordered the pipes to sound. The unexpected nasally drone and the wailing chanter spooked the Celts’ horses, causing them to lose to the Romans. Understanding the reason for their defeat, the Britons came to worship the instrument for its magical qualities. Whether there’s any truth to the myth, we’ll likely never know, but it’s ironic to think Caesar may have defeated the Britons with bagpipes, though. No matter the case, they remain a staple of Celtic culture in Scotland and Ireland to this day.

Bagpipes in Medieval Europe

The earliest bagpipe artefact discovered in Europe is a chanter, found in Rostock, Germany, in 1985, and dated back to the late 14th century. There are, however, several depictions in art and sculpture that suggest the instrument existed in Europe at least 100 years prior.

An illustration in the Cantigas de Santa Maria, a 13th century book of poems set to music, quite clearly depicts two bagpipers, with visible pipes, bags, and chanters. A similar illustration can also be found in a manuscript from northern France, dated around the same time. The following century, a passage from Geoffrey Chaucer’s magnum opus, The Canterbury Tales (1387-1400), describes the bagpiping proficiency of Robin the Miller: “A baggepype wel coude he blowe and sowne, And ther-with-al he broghte us out of towne”.

In some 15th and 16th-century European churches, you’ll find miniature sculptures of bagpipes – often played by animals – carved into the wooden choir stalls. The invention of the printing press in the mid-15th century led to more and more written descriptions of musical culture and, importantly, music which had previously been passed on in the oral tradition began to be written down.

In 1581, John Derricke published The Image of Irelande, with illustrations that clearly depict a bagpiper, and William Byrd’s My Ladye Nevells Booke (1591) includes a piece of music called ‘The bagpipe and the drone’, written for harpsichord.

Thanks to a strong culture of passing down music by ear, the first piece of music written down for the bagpipes may not have appeared until the 18th century. A document from the 1730s known as the ‘William Dixon manuscript’ – now kept in the A.K. Bell Library in Perth, Scotland – is the oldest known instance of pipe music being printed.

The history of Scottish Highland bagpipes

The history of the Bagpipe in Scotland is not easy to trace. The Scots seem always to have played it and mastered it at an early date, almost as if they had contact with those Greeks of divergent pipes fame. The Scots are a quiet race, simply getting on with it and have never made any outlandish claims that they were the first to play a pipe or that their pattern was the best. Consequently, a start date is all but impossible.

The non-performing community is obsessed with the thirteenth or fourteenth century as a start date. The dangerous thing about the non-performing community is that they are almost as bad as incurable romantics as are the performing community. The one thing common with both communities is that they both dwell in Scotland, a land that created Hollywood and continues to ridicule much of piping history, holding it out as the music of the amadan or fool. One thing is for certain is that Scottish piping tradition seems to have come up out of England, likely dragged there by the Romans. Another is that Scotland is much embarrassed by the Bagpipe. So let us take a look at some of the myths and facts of Scottish piping and draw our own conclusions. Keep in mind that both communities have never been able to break with Victorian romance and that the accepted way to verify piping history in Scotland is the usage of the expression "said to have been" and "may have been," especially if said by a judge of the Indian high court.

Lowland Scottish Town Drummer and Piper

The English used their pipe mainly as an outdoor instrument as the Romans had done, building roads, bringing in harvests and forming town waytes or musical watch men. A town crier put to music, these were armed bands, accompanied by musicians whose function was to march through a town announcing the start of a work day and its close, etc. The concept of these English wayte or watch bands was copied with passion by the Lowland Scots and ere long, each town in the Lowlands had its own (wait for it …) PROFESSIONAL (i.e. PAID) town piper. From that point, piping in Scotland really took off on its own. How it spread to the Highlands is anyone's guess, but anyone thinking that there was no communication between the Lowlands and the Highlands would be just playing into the romantic hands of both communities. Spread to the Highlands it certainly did, the Highland style exceeding in all of Scotland. An even stranger thing happened in the Lowlands. Here the hereditary piper seems to have been born. Not only would the role of town piper pass from father to son, but some towns actually provided housing for their pipers, a custom not unnoticed by the chieftains and their ilk in the Highlands. By 1700, the Reverend David Kirkwood advised that "Pipers are held in great Request, so that they are train'd up at ye Expense of Grandees & have a Portion of Land assigned & are design'd such a man's Piper."

We must mention another romantic community forced on us, the Irish. Not content with the realization that they had no interest in mastering the pipe, they decided to claim, after giving it up, that it was they who introduced the mouth-blown pipe to the Highland Scots. We know that by the mid-fourteenth century, the Irish had finally absorbed the Anglo Norman piping tradition (slow learners, IMHO) and began to branch out on their own. They certainly had very strong connections with their Highland cousins so this claim may actually have some possibility. The only problem is that there is not a shred of music, piping or fingering evidence to support the Irish claim. There is evidence of harp music but we must not confuse two instruments.

Opinions differ as to how, or when exactly bagpipes arrived in Scotland. One clan claims to own a set of bagpipes that was carried at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314. We know for certain that they must have been there by 1400, as records of the Battle of the North Inch in 1396 describe ‘warpipes’ being played.

Bagpipes were commonly used as rallying instruments at war, as a French historical document notes their distinctive sound ringing out at the Battle of Pinkie in 1547. The 16th century Scottish historian George Buchanan even wrote that bagpipes had replaced the trumpet on the battlefield as the symbolic sound of battle.

It’s likely that the Scottish Highland bagpipe began with just one drone, with the second added during the mid to late 1500s, and the third introduced in the early 1700s.

Throughout this period, the ceòl mór, also known as pibroch – tunes for battle, marches, gatherings of friends and family, martial salutes and laments – became established as the core bagpipe repertoire. This time also saw the rise of piping families, which included the MacCrimmons, MacArthurs, MacGregors and Rankins.

Bagpipe-playing suffered a decline after King George II passed his 1746 Act of Proscription, in an effort to gain the Scottish Highlands for his own empire. The act weakened the legally recognized powers of clan chiefs, destroyed land ownership in common and caused a mass emigration out of Scotland.

Although it is often said that the Act criminalised the possession, or playing, of bagpipes, no evidence actually exists in the writing of the act, nor in any prosecutions under the act. Through weakening Scotland’s culture, clan system, and independence, however, use of the instrument did decline.

Some popularity returned during the expansion of the British Empire, as Highland regiments were at the forefront of many of the British military invasions. Pipers were also included amongst the troops of both world wars.

Today, the bagpipes are frequently heard during military occasions and formal ceremonies, including at the funeral service for Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on 19 September 2022.

They are also the official instrument of the World Curling Federation, thanks to the large influence Scots have had on the sport.

Despite all its Scottish connotations, it might be surprising, therefore, to hear that the world’s largest producer of bagpipes is not Scotland, but Pakistan, whose bagpipe industry was worth almost $7 million in 2010. And we all know how much of that is for bagpipes that actually work.

Burns’ Night is usually celebrated on January 25th, and if you attend a supper you will encounter the national dish of Scotland. Is 2023 the year of haggis?

An infamous dish

If you’ve never tried haggis before, you’ve almost certainly heard of it. Detractors and supporters alike are equally outspoken about the Scottish national dish. Despite how you may feel about this food, its presence in Europe has been recorded for more than 500 years, so there must be something special to have kept it around for so long. I had wanted to write a simple blog post about this long-lasting dish and its history with the Scottish-American community, but the story of haggis in the U.S. is more complex- and recent- than I’d originally thought.

Haggis is traditionally a mixture of minced sheep’s pluck (organs including the heart, lungs, and liver) mixed with onions, suet (animal fat), salt, spices, oatmeal, and broth or blood; then cooked (usually boiled) encased in a sheep’s stomach. The resulting mix is traditionally served with mashed potatoes and mashed turnips, or neeps and tatties. All of these were considered poor food, because potatoes and turnips were usually fed to cattle as a supplemental. No self-respecting laird would have considered such a diet.

Haggis never dies

In North America the dominant culture doesn’t typically consume animal organs as part of our main diet. - the vast majority of us have never been that poor or our culture has not included organ meats in it’s daily consumption, so “offal” or organ meats tend to be regarded as low foods, suitable only for pet food. So, the average reaction to hearing about haggis for the first time is probably a bit of a gulp and a cautious grimace, at best. And yet no Burns Supper would be complete without The Haggis. It makes you wonder: what is the secret to this dishes’ popularity?

Originally, many theorize, during the clearances after the fall of the Scottish throne to the conquering English, haggis was a food concocted by poverty-stricken working folks out of necessity. Sheep are livestock commonly raised in Scotland, and you can see their mark across the culture, including the wool that traditional Scottish tartan is made of. A sheep in its first year is a lamb and its meat is also lamb. The meat from sheep in their second year is hogget. Older sheep meat is mutton. After harvesting the good cuts of meat of the sheep for sale and barter, workers would have been given access to the inexpensive & unwanted offal. They found that it could be conveniently kept in another part of the sheep (the stomach) for traveling. Boiling, and with the addition of salt, spices and oats, it made quite a tasty and nourishing meal which could feed hungry folk for a week. So, haggis’ endurance as the national dish of Scotland isn’t just because it’s appetizing - it is. It’s also because through it, people reconnect with their hardworking Scottish roots.

Another theory that parallels this one is the highland practice of “toe to tail” butchering. In other words, using a butchered animal as thoroughly as possible so that nothing is wasted. This is a custom that might strike some as a thing of the past, but the need to efficiently use animals has had a lasting impact on other signature cultural foods worldwide. Think of oxtail in Jamaican food, chitlins in the American south, or Aqutak, an ice cream made of animal fat and oil by Indigenous Alaskans. All things considered, haggis isn’t a terribly unusual dish. So why does it have such a reputation? After all, it’s outlawed in the U.S.

The 50-year haggis controversy

Maybe that’s a little hyperbolic. The dish itself isn’t illegal, but in 1971 the use of sheep’s lung in products meant for human consumption was banned by the USDA. This meant that, effectively, the import and creation of authentic Scottish haggis was now also illegal.

I did some research to understand why this was the case. Lungs, known as “lights” in butchering, are a difficult organ to properly clean. It’s possible for fluid and matter from the stomach to make its way into lungs during the slaughtering process. Understandably, this turned some heads at the USDA. The next decades would see a UK outbreak of scrapie, a neurodegenerative disease found in sheep. This was the nail in the coffin; scrapie has not been proven before or since to be transmissible to humans through eating meat, but there was a desire to be safe rather than sorry.

This is all very fair, but the ban still stands after 50 years. Scots have been eating haggis for those 50 years without issue (although some wonder once they meet a Scot, but that’s beside the point.) Many North Americans (fine, *I*) feel that it’s high time to reevaluate. Some argue that the impurities found in the lungs are no different than what we might consume anyways eating meat and living as we normally would. After all, the USDA allows a certain percentage of bug parts in hot dogs, for example. There have been reported talks as recently as January 2022 regarding the U.S. government’s stance on the ban, and it would appear that progress is being made. That progress, however, is slow. If you’re a fan of haggis or want to try it for the first time and you live in the U.S., what is to be done?

New Recipes

In the 500 years it’s existed, haggis has flexibly changed according to what people need. Scottish residents can now obtain a gluten-free haggis, a vegetarian haggis, a kosher haggis, and a halal haggis. The variety is endless as butchers strive towards a national dish that can be enjoyed by all. Naturally, not all these variants contain sheep’s lung, sad to say. Stahly’s and The Caledonian Kitchen both create haggis within the U.S. that follows the USDA regulations. Modern haggis worldwide now incorporates a variety of meats and meat substitutes other than just hogget, mutton or lamb, and obtaining a haggis inside North America is now easier than it’s ever been. Purists, however, insist that sheep’s lung is essential in order to give the mixture a lighter texture. To them, U.S. haggis is an affront to the real thing. There is one more option, if you’re hardcore: a black market has sprung up around those who need their haggis made by the original recipe. For the rest of us, though, the substitutes will just have to do.

“Is it good?”

Well, it’s all a matter of taste, really. When you get down to it, haggis actually isn’t much distinct from sausage in ingredients, just in scale. But even celebrity chef Alton Brown balks at eating haggis after demonstrating how to make it. Others on vacation in Scotland try haggis for the first time and wonder what all the negative press is about. Like any other dish, the final product varies in taste and texture depending on who’s making it, so perhaps that accounts for the polarization. Served with whisky, however, it’s something to be appreciated as distinctively ours. Real Scottish fare. Good and wholesome, like bridies and pasties.

Here in Ocean Springs, we are haggis appreciators! We usually buy a US-produced sheep’s haggis that comes well reviewed: “like corned beef hash, but with 1,000 times more flavor!” Positive reviews of haggis compare it to some recognizable foods: soft, crumbled sausage, or somewhere between a pate and a meatloaf. If you’re curious, though, the best thing you can do is try it yourself.

And if you already know how good haggis is, why not show it off and ``? After all, the more enthusiasts there are, the more likely we will get an even greater variety of haggis available here in the states!

Ith gu leòir! (“Eat plenty!”)

Scottish Proverb; 12 highlanders, one bottle of whisky and a piper make a rebellion.

As with any instrument, anyone can learn how to play the bagpipe. I have successfully taught people of different ages and abilities, and no one is incapable of learning. It all depends on your own personal work ethic. Your own goals will play a part in the kind of practice you need to perform. Your teacher should be aware of the goals you have set for yourself and should be able to help achieve those goals with the right type of instruction. For example, you shouldn't be focusing on learning heavy open-grade competition music if your goal is to play in your local St. Patrick's Day Parade. Your goals will be able to tell you what you need to focus on.

Generally, these steps will be apparent upon practicing. Books and videos are very helpful, but it's best to have a teacher in a one-on-one or class setting to tell you where your faults are. Even the best pipers have a mentor who will critique their playing - the feedback improves playing by catching simple mistakes before they become ingrained habits.

Practice daily, even if it’s only for ten minutes. You should be seeing improvement over time. Your progress won't show overnight but more over weeks and months. Yes, there will be times where you feel like you aren't moving forward, but stick with it. Having a healthy amount of faith in yourself and your teacher will keep you going on your journey to learning the bagpipes.

So, the question “how do I learn to play the bagpipe?” does not have one simple answer. First let us consider the following points.

The Realities of Learning:

1.  Playing a Full Set of Bagpipes is Physically Taxing:

The Great Highland Bagpipe is far and away one of the most difficult instruments in the world, both in terms of technique and physicality. Apart from the memory work involved in learning tunes and the often complicated finger techniques required to play, one must be reasonably physically fit in order to be able to play the instrument. While a normal set of bagpipes weighs about 5 to 6 pounds they can feel incredibly heavy after a 30 minute practice session.

The very beginning stages of learning will be the hardest. Many beginners experience light-headedness after a few minutes of blowing, but with practice, this will go away. Unfortunately, headaches from the effort and back pressure in the sinuses can be frequent and annoying, but staying hydrated will aid your short term endurance.

You will definitely sweat. A LOT. You might experience pain in the arm, shoulder and elbow that is used to squeeze the bag since you will be using muscles in your arm that have never been used in this way before. Older pipers sometimes complain about the joints in their fingers and cramping in their hands as they age out of very fast and complicated tunes.

Your lips will also begin to give out after a short while of playing but this does go away as practice is steady and consistent. Playing the bagpipes is like a full time gym membership, but instead of counting reps, you'll be counting minutes.

2.  No One EVER Begins on the Actual Bagpipes, Despite What is Claimed on YouTube:

To further add to the difficulty of this instrument, you shouldn’t begin learning on the actual highland pipes. You'll want to invest, first, in a good quality practice chanter. This is a small, family-and-friend-sanity-saving  practice tool that lets you practice the fingering and basic gracenotes without the loud sound of the highland pipes. Usually made of plastic and involving no bag or drones, this small instrument doesn't sound like a bagpipe nor is it as hard as one.

Every decent piper has begun their career on a practice chanter and, while this is a beginner's tool, you’ll never stop using it. Bands, teachers, and experienced competitors continue to use the practice chanter for the rest of their lives on a daily basis. Why? For the same reason mentioned above, that you can practice the fingering and melody without the volume factor and there is virtually no stamina required to play it.

After you have learned the basic embellishments and your first handful of tunes, you should be ready to move to the highland pipes, at which point you'll feel like you're starting all over again. This phase can take anywhere from a half a year to upwards of 2 years.

3.  They Are VERY Loud: 

No one really understands how loud the bagpipes can be until they are practicing at home, indoors. The bagpipes were made to be played outdoors but doing this in your backyard today might result in some upset neighbors. One solo bagpipe can range at about 110 decibels (about as loud as a vacuum cleaner or a motor cycle) while a full pipe band will range at about 130 decibels (about as loud as a jet engine taking off). All players should begin with wearing ear protection as repeated exposure to these loud volumes can result in deafness over time.

The frequency range of the bagpipe chanter is also quite high. Most normal orchestral instruments tune their concert "A" to 440 hz while bagpipes tune their "A" anywhere from 470 to 486, resulting in a much more shrill and high pitch. You may want to think about where your practice will take place as many public places have noise ordinances, and the pipes may disturb others around you. If you live in an apartment, you might be able to practice in a park. Sometimes churches will allow you to use their spaces for a short while, but you should always ask. 

4.  Practice is VERY Time Consuming:

As any musician will tell you, perfect practice makes perfect, and the bagpipes are no exception to this rule. Either on your pipes or your practice chanter, the time it takes to run through a good practice should take some effort. Only through intense, accurate and honest practice will an individual be able to progress normally onto their pipes which can take up to another several months or several years to become fully competent.

A normal practice session with the practice chanter should start at ten minutes a day and increasing as fingers settle into pattern, tunes become less like work and familiarity allows speed with accuracy, but by six months practice on the practice chanter should last at least half an hour daily. Pipers who are serious about their craft will practice for an hour a day plus half an hour on their pipes, so dedication, persistence, accuracy and physical fitness all make a champion piper.  

Beginners who transition to the pipes struggle to keep the instrument going for more than 5 (or so) minutes while many advanced players attend weekly band practices lasting an hour or more. Again, through regular practice, your endurance will improve. I have taught many beginners of all ages and a surprising number of them just quit because of the practice requirements this instrument demands.

If you have issues with time commitment and/or don't have patience to sit and practice, you will struggle to improve at the rate your day allows. The rule of thumb here is just do it.

5.  REAL Bagpipes are EXPENSIVE:

In all honesty, who can blame someone for wanting a good deal on their first set of bagpipes? You will see prices online for a full set of “highland” pipes for as little as $200. Before eagerly heading to the checkout page you should be aware of some things. Especially, beware of pipes from Pakistan. These instruments, while cheap, are not made to be a functioning musical instrument; rather a decorative piece to hang on a wall or above the fireplace, but that is not stated in the descriptive information! Just don't purchase this instrument thinking you will get a quality set. When in doubt, always check with another more experienced piper to make sure this is a real instrument. 

With today's internet, there are lots of online forums and Facebook pages available to someone who is looking to identify a set. Decorative pipes like the Paki pipes are usually made of junk woods like pine and cottonwood. The internal dimensions and fittings are poorly cut and bored, and the fittings are cotton string and cheap nickel. The bags are usually poor quality, uncured goatskin, and the cane reeds are dreadfully cut and of poor quality. Assembled, they may look real, but tuning and playing them is fruitless and frustrating. Avoid these so-called sets if you want to play the instrument. 

A good set of real pipes made of African Blackwood or cocobola can be purchased for as cheap as $1,000 while a more inexpensive set made of Polypenco or Acetyl Plastic could be as low as $700. Both are good instruments but there are differences in tonal quality and stability. A typical beginner will most likely want a new set of pipes, but sometimes you can get a hold of a used set which could be cheaper. You'll always want an experienced piper to check these items for authenticity and playability. Ask your teacher for assistance - he or she can guide you as can members of the band who service pipes.

6.  Finding the Right Instructor:

Learning the bagpipe requires instruction, since the nuance of the music and the instrument are difficult to learn from a book, and having a set of experienced eyes and ears correcting errors before they become habits is essential, not just for the pipes. That said, good players who can teach well are few, so many people find it difficult to get a hold of a teacher. Often times you can start with a teacher by going to your local pipe band. Most bands will teach you the basics if you are willing to join the organization once you are competent enough to play.

7.  What if there aren't other pipers close to you, or any that are willing to teach?

This is a bit tricky. I do not recommend tackling the bagpipes on your own. Trying to "teach yourself" will bring about bad habits which will cause problems in your technique and, over time, amounts to the instrument not sounding like it's supposed to. This is what gives the instrument a bad name - a badly played oboe is blamed on the player, but a badly played bagpipe is ALWAYS blamed on the instrument. I cannot understand or explain that, but there it is.

Obviously, then, you will need some kind of instruction with either a live person or - if in person is simply out of the question - an online lesson. With the fantastic online resources today, you should be able to find someone who would be willing to teach you through Skype or other video lessons. You'll want to do your research on the types of teachers you want to take tuition from. There are even online piping schools which employ multiple instructors who have years of playing experience. It is truly amazing what an online search will do for you.

You definitely want someone reputable who will honor your commitment to learning. Private teachers usually give lessons that can last an hour. A reasonable rate is anywhere from $25 to $60 for an hour. Remember, you are paying for someone's time as well as the years of experience they've had playing this instrument. 

Beware the "price-point" teacher. Most self respecting pipers who are decent players will refer you to a good musician for lessons. However, there are those who are willing to take your money and keep you sounding terrible so you keep coming back for lessons. Most beginners aren't aware of the skill of their teacher, but the simple way to avoid this is to listen to the teacher play.

By and large, you get what you pay for. Do your research and be smart about who you choose for tuition. As both a piping teacher and student, I know the value of having someone who is both knowledgeable and practical in their teaching style. Music reading and experience playing other instruments help. If you are already a musician, whether a novice or professional, the skills you’ve already learned will greatly help you learn the bagpipes.

Hopefully, you now have an inkling about what you’d need to develop as a bagpiper. And as mentioned before you will have to learn how to blow and squeeze the bagpipe to produce sound. At least that will be easier though if you can transition some of your music skills to learning fingerwork.

Lastly, you only get out of piping what you put in. Slow and steady improvement and practice wins the race. So if you practice, you will progress. However, if you are a skilled musician who is too lazy to practice, you may not progress much, as I have seen with some musicians. So pick up the chanter, and come and see us! 

At my first bagpipe lesson, this is what my instructor called the thing. He even denied it was a musical instrument at all - there were no rests, no dynamic range, a single key signature. Yes, he was just making a point, but at the time, I was appalled at his complete disregard for his expertise and talent on this amazing, historic and incredible instrument.

I have also met bagpipers (usually people who've never touched another instrument) who declaim it's the pinnacle of difficulty and expression in music. Clearly these people have never seen a pipe organ or an Irish fiddle (or the Uillean pipes!) played! But over the last thirty years, I realized my first instructor WAS right - that the bagpipe is really just a nine-note party favor, but one that comes with a very colorful (and sometimes, especially in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, very hot) costume.

The nine notes of the bagpipe form a simple Mixolydian scale with a flattened 7th on top and bottom. We write these notes G, A, B, C, D, E, F, G, and A. I boldfaced the first A because it's the tonic, and the note we tune our drones to. There’s a chart in an earlier blog post if you need to review the fingering of these notes, but I digress. Now, strictly speaking, the C and F are sharp, but for some reason it's suppressed in printed pipe music. Don't be fooled! Add two sharps in your head when you're looking at tunes in pipe collections.

Old pipe music was largely dual-tonic; that is, often it would have a phrase in A, followed by a phrase in G (think "The Devil in the Kitchen"). Sometimes this role was reversed (G Lydian mode, like "The Bob of Fettercairn"), or the two keys would be in B minor and A (like "The Ale is Dear").

The scale of the bagpipe is ideal for this kind of music, but it is pretty limiting to the modern ear.  Recently, more and more music has been written for the bagpipes in the key of D major, forcing a retuning of the chanter's D (which used to be sharp relative to most intonation systems).

 So every bagpipe tune you see will have these nine notes. If you see a tune with more than these, it's already been adapted for fiddle. Similarly, tunes and songs adapted for the bagpipes will be "squished" to fit this scale. Many is the tune in A major that saw its G# (e.g., "Highland Whisky") flattened to fit the pipes. And others saw a high B turned into an ornament, or a low F-sharp turned into a low G. 

But wait! I've been lying to you, because though pipe music is written as if it's in the key of two sharps, it's now played somewhat sharp of three flats! So our scale really is 25 cents sharp of Ab, Bb, C, D, Eb, F, G, Ab, Bb.

 Why do we write it one way and play it another? It is because the pitch of the instrument has been rising in the last couple of centuries relative to most other instruments. When Joseph MacDonald - a trained violinist who studied the pipes as a young adult - wrote his manuscript on the Highland pipes in 1759, he felt the scale of the bagpipes was close enough to call its tonic "A." But A drifted pretty high in Victorian times.

With the Scots Guards "Queen's Hall" standard in 1799, A became more than half-way to what we now call Bb. When it drifted back down, during the late 1880’s, the Highland pipes stayed up there. For a while, then, it was in vogue to play with brass bands, so Bb was a perfect key for the instrument. But that fell out of fashion at a time in the 1970’s when competition judges and pipe majors were looking for a "brighter" sound for bands. So, mistaking "sharp" for "bright," up the pitch climbed again, almost to halfway between Bb and B.

Sanity has once again crept over the community in the last few years, and now it's just sharp of Bb now. At the same time in the 70’s as folk music drifted into mainstream and celtic tunes became popular, a movement to "play in A" began, a tragedy of perception, so you're now seeing a few weird solo and "Celtic" pipers having chanters made in concert A to be more fiddle friendly (think “Red Hot Chilli Pipers”). Sorry we can't do more about the volume!

One more slight exaggeration must be revealed about the bagpipe scale. It's really not nine, but more like eleven and a half notes. Many current polypenco (plastic) chanter/reed combinations, with much creative fingering and blowing, can play a note close to C-natural and F-natural as well, and a very few can play something close to G#, with an alternate and heretical cross-fingering. Even fewer can play a high B! But the tuning on these notes is usually suboptimal, even with yards of tape and hemp, so they're better for passing tones than notes one holds on.

Realistically,  formal bagpipe music never uses these notes; woe upon you if you actually play "Lochiel's awa' to France" in a proper A minor in competition. We purists will seize your nine-note party favor and break it.