Reflection paper
How Old Is Music? Author(s): Jeremy Montagu Source: The Galpin Society Journal, Vol. 57 (May, 2004), pp. 171-182 Published by: Galpin Society Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/25163800 Accessed: 10/01/2010 16:14
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JEREMY MONTAGU
How Old is Music?
ORIGINS No musical instrument can be created with
out purpose. Before an instrument can even
be envisaged there must be the concept of
sound and the desire to create sound. And so before we begin to consider the age of music and its
instruments, we must first look to that sound that we
call music.
Our search begins far away in time. Not perhaps so far away as the music of the spheres, but certainly to the times before mankind became human, for
song is inherent in nature, in the sense of the
vocalisation or other creation of sound combined
with the inflection of pitch or frequency. Dance, too, is inherent in nature in the sense of movement
combined with regular or repetitive rhythm. When did either of these become a conscious part
of human development is a question impossible to
answer but, on the basis of what we know of the
behaviour of the animal kingdom, one has to say that it was probably with homo erectus, from the
earliest time that hominids stood upright. Certainly
fellow-primates have been seen dancing, or so we
would call it if they were human, and accompanying the dance with movements which make more noise
than is necessary for locomotion.1
The progression from clapping paws, or hands, to
the use of a pair of sticks or a couple of stones is
surely the origin of musical instruments. When did
this take place? One could say with some confidence
'before the Palaeolithic Age' for it could well have
been precisely this act which led to the earliest phase of the Palaeolithic or, as it used to be called, the
Eolithic, or Dawn of the Stone Age. As stones are
clashed together, they are liable to crack, to split, even to shatter. The sharp fragments that fell could
have been the first tools.
Whether this scenario is true, or whether stone
tools came before instruments, no one will ever
know. If tools came first, then two flint knappers,
chipping in ear-shot of each other, could have been
the first musicians to produce rhythmic counter
point as they interlocked their rhythms, as smiths, and other workers such as those who use pestles and
mortars, do worldwide to this day. Many other such
theories are equally possible, but it remains likely that musical instruments began with the concussive
sounds of two objects struck together. These are instruments which are still in use today.
We use wooden sticks as the claves of Latin
American dance music, and in Australia they
accompany the didjeridu. Wooden shells are used as
castanets, similar objects of metal are used as
cymbals, large and small. All are common around
the world, many of them to accompany the dance, and the two most powerful influences on mankind, that may have led to music and to instruments, are
dance and ritual. Dance, as we noted above, is
inherent in nature, and we see such movements,
apparently instinctive, in the youngest of our own
children. Why it happens is a matter for studies
other than this. Why an impulse towards religion or
ritual is almost equally instinctive is again beyond our field, but we must accept that it exists,2 accept that it is often expressed in dance, and accept that it
is often, even normally, accompanied by sound, and
that that sound is what we can call music.
How, then, do we define music? That is something on which there is no general agreement. For me it is
sound?without sound there can be no music, even
though there can be no music without silence. It is
sound that is generated deliberately?casual and
accidental sounds are not musical, though they are
often created by objects which we call musical
1 Leonard Williams, The Dancing Chimpanzee: A study ofthe origins of primitive music (London: Andre Deutsch,
1967). There are many other similar records. 2 Whereas any inclination towards atheism or even agnosticism is the result of deliberate thought and decision.
171
172 The Galpin Society Journal
instruments.3 It is sound that is generated
deliberately to create emotion. What that emotion
may be is irrelevant. It can be pleasure (it usually is
today, especially if the creator expects remuneration
for its performance); it can be fear, even terror,
certainly awe; very often it is to impel movement.
From this it follows that any object which is used
to produce such sound can be called a musical
instrument. These are not only those tools which we
use to create the music of our concert halls, theatres, dance halls and other places where we hear music
today, but all the sound-makers, even noise-makers,
which extend and derive from them. The old
fashioned motor-horns, those with a rubber bulb, the hooters with which our children enjoy making sounds revolting
to our ears, these have the same
reeds as our church organs and so cannot be ignored as instruments. The ratchets whirled by football
enthusiasts, which indubitably reveal our jubilation when our team has scored a goal and so express an
emotion, and which are used by children to scare
birds from crops, just as they were used by the Watch
to scare those of evil intent from our streets, these
appear from time to time on our concert platforms,
and more frequently in our music halls. Anything with which people make sounds generated
deliberately to create emotion are grist to our mill, even more when we mill that grist with deliberate
rhythms. One further word of introduction. We shall use
frequently in these pages such phrases as 'in our
culture', 'in our music'. They are used in place of the
meaningless terms 'Western music', 'European
orchestras' and so forth. Possible alternatives are
'international culture' and 'international music', for
'our' music has become international. We cannot
talk of Western music when 'our' sort of music is
played worldwide, for how can we term the Tokyo Philharmonic western from where I sit? Nor can we
speak of 'European' when, since the seventeenth
century, even since the sixteenth south of the Rio
Grande, 'our' music has been composed and played in the Americas. When saying 'our', I write as
someone brought up in England and trained as a
musician first in America and then in England, but
it implies no value judgment?all musics are
music?it is only if 'Western' and 'European' are
without meaning in this context, that we must
have available some word for distinction between
'ours' and that of people brought up and trained
in different musics and different traditions from
mine.
VOICES There is a small number of instruments which have
their own voices. Most instruments need to be
played, but these merely to be moved or stroked, and
of themselves they will speak. One of our great frustrations in all studies of ancient times is to
wonder how on earth anybody could ever have
discovered that doing something produced a
beneficial or useful result. How did someone
discover that drilling a hole in the end of a piece of
wood or bone, tying a string through that hole, or
else shaping the end so that the string could be tied
securely round it, and then swinging that piece of
wood or bone in a circle on the end of the string,
produced a sound? Some actions and their results are obvious enough
? pick and eat a fruit from a
tree and the result is either pleasant or unpleasant and perhaps fatal. But something so elaborate as
this? Not merely the choice of the piece of wood or
bone, for too small or too large, the wrong shape, the wrong surfaces, even the wrong cord, render it
ineffective, but the fact is that it must be swung, that
it must rotate, and that it must spin on its own axis.
It is difficult to conceive ofthe action or purpose that
might accidentally have led to this discovery. And
yet the use of the bull-roarer is widespread round the
world, even, so far as we know, a universal
instrument that no culture, no people has been
without at some stage in its development.4 The bull-roarer is commonly an elongated oval in
shape, sometimes described as fish-shape, though
rectangular and other shapes are also seen. Often
one or both faces are carved with decorative
patterns and it has been suggested that it works
better if one face is flatter than the other, or more
deeply carved, so as to present greater or lesser
resistance to the air than the other face, though the
large number known whose two faces appear to be
identical suggests that this, while perhaps an
enhancement, may not be essential. What is certain
is that the sound is produced as the bull-roarer spins on its own axis while being swung in a circle round
the player, and that both rotary motions are
necessary, which suggests that some of the sound is
due to the passage of the string, and the bull-roarer,
through the air, and some to the perturbance of the
air as the bull-roarer spins. Certainly the sound
varies according to the size of the bull-roarer, the
length ofthe string, and the speed of rotation. Larger roarers, slower rotation, and longer strings produce a low muttering sound, threatening like distant
thunder, hence one of its names, the thunder stick,
3 The casual and accidental sounds from which musique concrete was created were not in themselves music: only
when a composer had manipulated and transformed them did they become music. 4
J. R. Harding, 'The Bull-Roarer in History and in Antiquity', African Music 5/3 (1973/4), 40?2.
Montagu?How Old is Music? 173
and hence perhaps its association, as the rhombos, with Zeus, the god of thunder. Smaller and faster
bellow like a bull, hence the name in English. Bull roarers smaller and faster still scream like a demon.
The French name, rhombe, comes from its' shape and derives from the Greek rhombos; the German name Schwirrholz, from its use: whirring wood.
Thus it is not surprising that it was so widely used as a ritual instrument, a spirit voice, and one that in
many areas was secret and known only to initiates.
Nobody, unless initiated and shown, could imagine that so simple an object could produce such a sound.
So it was used in the Dionysian mysteries in ancient
Greece, and as the voice of an ancestor, a spirit, a
god,
in the initiation rites of cultures from New Guinea,
Australia, Africa, and South America. It was used in
Palaeolithic times in Europe, for examples have been
found in Magdalenean sites in the Dordogne of
southern France, at Laugerie-Basse and elsewhere.5 It
must surely be of equal, if not greater, antiquity elsewhere?our knowledge ofthe Stone Ages is badly skewed by the accidents of where archaeological
work has been done and discoveries made. The fact
that the caves of central and southern France have
been well explored is not, in itself, evidence that
objects found there did not exist, were not used, or
are earlier than in other parts of the world whose
remains have yet to be investigated. The bull-roarer had in many areas a smaller
relative, called by Schaeffner le diable, the devil.6
This is a disk, often with dentations round the rim, with two holes each side of the centre, or sometimes a bone such as a knuckle bone with a hole across the centre of its length, on a loop of string. There is no
single name in English, for 'buzzing disk' excludes
the phalange or knuckle bone, and many other
things might be called a 'buzzer'. Cajsa Lund
advocated the Swedish term 'snorra' (strictly snorra), and this, with its almost onomatopoeic
sound, seems a better choice.7 One end of the loop is
held in each hand and the snorra swung like a
skipping rope to twist the string. An outward pull by the hands spins the snorra and, by relaxing the pull at the right instant, allows it to twist the loop again in the opposite sense. Repeated pull and release
produces a shrill buzzing, whirring sound, again
regarded in some areas as a voice, ancestral or
spiritual, protective or
menacing.
Few mysteries, few rituals are eternal. Things once secret become known, that which was sacred
becomes mundane. So it has been with the bull roarer and the snorra. People in many
areas use the
bull-roarer as a bird-scarer, using its sound and
perhaps its hovering flight, which some birds might mistake as that of a hawk, to frighten the birds and
animals from the crops. This is a task which is often
relegated to children, and thus it has also become a
child's toy, as has the snorra. Many of us have, as
children, swung a ruler on a piece of string or made
a bull-roarer from the bottom of a date box, a snorra
from a coat button or a piece of card. This has long been recognised as a classic cycle, the progression from ritual through mundane to toy. As Curt Sachs
observed, many children's toys had an origin in
ritual or magic.8 This is why many of us study and
collect musical toys, and why others collect and
record children's rhymes, songs, and games.
Another instrument with a voice of its own, a
voice of magic, though one much later in our history, is the friction drum. Although this is a drum in the sense that there is a skin stretched over a vessel or
shell (and thus requires the technology, perhaps as
recent as the Neolithic, to create the necessary vessel
and to prepare and securely tension the skin), the
skin is not struck, indeed frequently it is not touched in any way. With a few friction drums, the skin itself
is rubbed by a stick or a hand, as we rub the skin of a tambourine with the thumb in our orchestras, but
with the vast majority a stick stands in the centre of
the skin, or a cord passes through the skin, and the
stick or the string is rubbed by the hand or by a piece of cloth or leather held in the fingers (rubbing the
string with the bare hand can be painful). It is not the
stick or the string that sounds but the drum that
grunts or roars. So loud can the sound be that in our
orchestras, where it has been scored by composers such as Edgard Varese, the string friction drum is
known as the lion roar.
Henry Balfour, in what remains the most detailed and most comprehensive study of the instrument,
postulated an origin from the smith's bellows, which in turn would postdate the instrument further, into the Bronze or even the Iron Age.9 A common form of
simple bellows is a pot shape covered by a skin with a stick or a string in the centre, and a pipe leading from the base ofthe pot to the fire. The stick is pulled
5 Otto Seewald, Beitrdge zur Kenntnis der Steinzeitlichen Musikinstrumente Europas (Vienna: Anton Schroll, 1934), 13?18 and Taf. 1: 5, 6, and 7.
6 Andre Schaeffner, Origine des Instruments de Musique: Introduction ethnologique a Vhistoire de la musique
instrumentale (Paris: ?, 1936; reprinted Paris: Mouton, 1968), 132. 7
In personal discussion. 8 Curt Sachs, The History of Musical Instruments (New York: W. W. Norton, 1940), 43.
9 Henry Balfour, 'The Friction Drum', Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 37 (1907), 67-92 and plates
XII-XIV, specifically 80-3 and pi. XIV.
174 The Galpin Society Journal
up to fill the pot with air and pushed down to drive the air into the forge, or the cord is pulled up and the smith's feet push the skin down again to drive the air. In either case, sooner or later the sweating hands slip and slide on stick or string and it seems as though the
metal groans or cries as it flows from the ore, as a woman cries in her travail as she gives birth to a
child, or as the gods shout their approval ofthe work
of the smith. Of course this is hypothesis, but the
smith, as well as being a person of such importance in every locality that his name today is the most common of all surnames in English (and in other
languages also), has in many places been regarded as
the possessor of magical powers?how else could metal be induced to flow from the stone?
There are numerous varieties of friction drum.
That common in Flemish genre paintings of the
seventeenth century as the rommelpot was a pot
with a skin covering the opening and a stick tied into a pocket in the centre of the skin. It was then most
commonly a child's toy. Similar instruments were
used in Italy and Spain for the 'rough music', the
way in which a community expressed its dis
approval of the life-style of a neighbour. Some
peoples reverse this pattern by placing the stick
inside the drum, in which case it often pierces the
skin, a lateral peg through the projecting part of the
stick, on the outside of the drum, preventing it from
being pulled through the skin. In many places this
type of stick friction drum has been a fertility
symbol, the male stick within the female vessel being rubbed to produce its effect. The type with external
stick is also often a fertility symbol, again as the stick
is rubbed in the hand, perhaps fueled by the idea that
the male symbol of the stick is trying to push its way into the female hollow of the drum, or else the stick as the male organ emitting its sound from the scrotum of the drum.
String friction drums are also widespread in use,
and not only in our orchestras Whereas the stick will
grunt, or roar at best, the string, if it is pulled fast, can scream as well as roar and grunt, all sounds that
can well be terrifying when used in mystic rituals.
On the string drum, the cord is most commonly outside the drumshell and may either be knotted
below the skin or pass in through one hole and out
through another, so that it is double.
A variant of the string friction drum, one that returns us towards the bull-roarer, is the whirled
drum, a small drum whose cord is tied to a stick. The
stick is usually smeared with rosin where the cord is
tied, so that the cord rubs on this to produce the
sound which would otherwise be provided by the
fingers. While this whirled drum is today thought of as a toy, the German name, Waldteufel or wood
devil, suggests some ritual element, the voice of
spirits or demons howling from the depths of the
sacred grove.
Recent publications have suggested that the locus or place may also have its own voice, and here we return again to the Palaeolithic period. Lucie Rault cites the work of French palaeologists in some of the painted caves of southern France.10 They have
discovered that different parts of the caverns have their own pitch and resonance, that certain notes
and overtones of those notes resonate in different
parts ofthe cavern, and that these parts are indicated
by specific markings placed on the walls of the cave.
The shaman or priest (for it is difficult to think of him as a musician who plays the cave) must first
make a sound, but need no more than whisper in some cases, and that sound is then taken up and
transmuted by the cave itself. Did Cro-Magnon man
in the Aurignacian period, some 15,000 years ago, make use of these phenomena? We do not know, but at least these theories make sense of some of the
groupings of figures and other details of the
paintings in these caves, and once these phenomena took place, and the slightest sound in the right place
would create them, it is difficult to imagine that they would not be used.
What follows on from the use of voices in the
painted caves is the suggestion in many of the same
references and in articles by researchers such as Lya Dams in the 1980s and Abbe Glory in the 1960s that
the stalagmites and stalactites, those curtains and
columns of stone, built up over aeons as calcite-filled water dripped slowly from the roof and petrified,
that these were struck as instruments.11 Some have
been broken off short, as though struck too hard, others seem to show marks of striking below the
later layers of calcite, and many of them have what seem to be deliberate marks of colour, black pigment and red ochre, as though to indicate which were the
best points for sound, the black overlaying the red, with enough calcite between the red and the black to
suggest that whatever these marks may mean, the
points that they indicate were of importance over
10 Lucie Rault, Musical Instruments: A Worldwide Survey of Traditional Music-Making (London: Thames &
Hudson, 2000), 14-24, referring to Iegor Reznikoff and Michel Dauvois, 'La dimension sonore des grottes ornees',
Bulletin de la Societe Prehistorique Francaise 85:8 (1988), 238-46. See also Michel Dauvois and Xavier Boutillon, 'Grottes et Lithophones' in Acoustique et Instruments Anciens: Colloque organise par la Societe Franqaise dAcoustique et la cite de la musique, 17 et 18 novembre 1998 (Paris: 1999), 215-23.
11 Lya Dams, 'Palaeolithic lithophones: Descriptions and Comparisons', Oxford Journal ofArchaeology 4:1 (1985),
31-46; Abbe Glory, 'La Grotte de Roucadour', Bulletin de la Societe Prehistorique Franqaise 61 (1964), 166-9, and further articles in subsequent volumes.
Montagu?How Old is Music? 175
long periods of time, centuries certainly, possibly millennia. Dams suggests that many ofthe chips and
breakages appear to have been made deliberately,
especially in such formations as 'curtains' of folded
calcite, and that the shorter such folds, the higher the
pitches produced, so that these might indicate
deliberate attempts to tune the formations. For such
details as this, of course, there can never be any
certainty, but the evidence adduced for musical
purposes seems so convincing that it would be very difficult to say, at the least, that these formations
could not have been used in that way. There appears to be a growing consensus that the deliberate use of
music and instruments is very much older than was
thought until recently, and that there is positive evidence that certainly goes back at least to the Late
Solutrean period of these painted caves, some
14,000 to 17,000 BC, and for at least some
instruments such as flutes and whistles, very much
earlier, into the Aurignacian.12
From the Upper Palaeolithic in the Ukraine,
roughly contemporary with the painted caves in
France, S. N. Bibikov published a musical ensemble
of mammoth bones.13 Again there can never be
proof, but certainly many of the bones show
undoubted signs of wear, mainly of striking but sometimes (though this is not mentioned in the
English summary but is apparent from the
illustrations) of striations similar to those of a rasp.
Considerably later, but still of high antiquity, we
have the lithophone from Ndut Lieng Krak in
Vietnam, now in the Musee de l'Homme in Paris.14
These eleven stone slabs were found while road
making but although Tran Van Khe has dated them to the early Mesolithic and others have suggested a
somewhat later period, in the Neolithic, they are
essentially undatable. Clearly they have been
worked and shaped and, like any other bars, whether of stone, wood, or metal, will produce a
pitch when struck and even perhaps, as alleged, a
pentatonic scale, but we have no idea of how, when,
why, or even if, they were used for musical
performance.
We are on much surer ground when we look at the
lithophones of our own time, for people still make
music from stones. Going back to where we began
this article, people still pick up stones from the
ground to strike together to accompany music or
dance, and Bonanni showed children doing it in Italy in the eighteenth century?we can surely accept this as something that has happened continually from
the beginning of humanity till today.15
Peoples in East Africa place a group of rocks of
different sizes on the ground, each producing a
different pitch. Peoples in northern England in the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (and who can
say how much earlier?) made instruments more
elaborate than, but similar to those of Ndut Lieng Krak. Peoples in China have for many centuries
played stone chimes, now associated with
Confucian ritual but known from archaeological discoveries to be very much older than Confucius's
time. Peoples in many parts of the world have played the percussion boulders which are somewhat
misleadingly called rock gongs, misleading only because they bear no resemblance to the discs of
bronze which we normally call a gong. The rock gong was first introduced to the
anthropological community by Bernard Fagg in
1956.16 He discovered a number of sites, many of
them associated with rock-paintings and painted caves. The instruments varied in size, from a
hundredweight or so to massive boulders weighing several tons. Some would produce a single pitch, others produced a range of pitches from different
points on the rock, with depressions showing where
they had been struck over long periods of time. Once
the first were found and recognised, others followed
fast, some because Fagg recalled seeing similar
depressions on other rocks and now realised their
purpose, others because, as word spread, their use,
previously unrecognised as anything important, was
now reported. Uses varied, many for ritual,
some for
signalling with sounds that carried for several miles,
many also for normal musical purposes, accom
panying singing and dancing. Musical practices also
varied, some being played by a single player at a
time, others by groups as
percussion ensembles.
After the first publication in Man, the newsletter as it was then of the Royal Anthropological Institute in London, many reports came from other Fellows
12 For a very recent survey, see David Lewis-Williams, The Mind in the Cave (London: Thames & Hudson, 2002),
with a specific discussion of music 223-7. 13 S. N. Bibikov, The Oldest Musical Complex Made of Mammoth Bones [in Russian with English and French
summaries] (Kiev: Institute of Archaeology, Academy of Science, Ukranian SSR, 1981). 14 Paul Collaer, Siidostasien, Musikgeschichte in Bildern 1:3 (Leipzig: Deutscher Verlag fiir Musik, 1979), 10 and Abb.
1 and 2; Tran Van Khe, La Musique Vietnamienne traditionelle (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1962), 11. 15
Filippo Bonanni, Gabinetto Armonico (Rome: 1723); all the engravings reprinted, but much reduced in format,
with new captions by Frank LI. Harrison and Joan Rimmer, as The Showcase of Musical Instruments (New York: Dover,
1964), pi. 96. 16 Bernard Fagg, 'The discovery of multiple rock gongs in Nigeria', Man (1956) 17-18; published also in African
Music 1:3 (1956), 6-9.
176 The Galpin Society Journal
of the Institute, often associating the rock gongs with rock slides, frequently a part of women's
fertility rites. Examples are now known over much
of Africa and far beyond. Catherine Fagg has
continued her late husband's research and, as well as
those from Africa, has published examples from
Canada, California, Brazil, Colombia, India,
Thailand, Australia, France (with, medieval, mega
ithic, and palaeolithic examples), and indeed much
of Europe, with the suggestion that cup-marks, which are a frequently found feature of megalithic monuments of the Neolithic and Early Bronze Ages,
may well be indicators of their use as rock gongs.17 Such sites are today, at least in Britain, legally
protected against damage, and anyone striking such
marks to see whether they ring may well find
themselves in serious trouble.
Smaller lithophones, portable slabs, as one might
say, are also used in Africa, one player with a group of five or so slabs of rock of different sizes set on the
ground in front of him. So far as we know at present this pattern of lithophone seems to be confined to
northern Togo in West Africa. According to Francis
Bebey, every family among the Kabre people has its
own set of stones, which are used to mark the
agricultural seasons ofthe year.18 Another use which
seems restricted to one area only is the Ethiopian, where a slab, often just one, is suspended at the
nodal points close to each end from a tree or other
support and is used instead of a church bell. This use
is reminiscent of that of the Greek church, and of
other churches in Muslim lands where churches are, or have been, forbidden the use of bells. There the
semantron, a wooden, or sometimes an iron bar, is
suspended horizontally so that it can be struck for
that purpose. So far as one knows the Ethiopian
Coptic church has never been the subject of such a ban, but it may be that bell-founding is not a
local practice and these rocks are therefore used
instead.
Suspended stones go back several millennia in
China, and many sets have been found archaeo
logically in recent years, for example in the tomb of
the Marquis Yi.19 This set of thirty-two calcareous
limestone slabs covers a fully chromatic range of
three and a half octaves, but the markings on their
storage boxes, all dating from the fifth century BC,
make it clear that they were used to play pentatonic scales. The reason for a complete chromatic set in
our terms is that a five-note scale could then be
started on any note desired. The shape of these
stones is more curved than L-shaped, but the L, with
the angle more obtuse than a right-angle, is the
shape more commonly seen, with a suspension hole
in the bottom left-hand corner of the L so that the
slabs hang down with the longer side lower than the
shorter. Those of the Marquis Yi were certainly used
for general musical purposes, for they are associated
with an enormous bell-chime, but both bells and
stones came to have a special role in Confucian
ritual music. This, of course, is.no longer a feature of
mainland Chinese life but it survives in Taiwan and
particularly in Korea.20
Stone chimes have also been used in Britain, but in
only one area. It was found that stones on a certain
part of Skidaw, a mountain near Keswick in the Lake
District; rang when struck and, in the late eighteenth century the earliest of the surviving instruments was
built.21 This is in the form of a single-row diatonic
xylophone covering a range of two octaves plus
one
note.22 Whether there was any earlier use of these
stones in unknown; it is possible, but seems unlikely, that Peter Crosthwaite, the builder of this instru
ment, was the first to notice their sounds. Certainly it was not the last, for another, also in the museum in
Keswick, covers five chromatic octaves and the
array used in 'Richardsons' Original Monstre Rock
Band' [sic], in the mid-nineteenth century, was even
larger (as well as giving a very different meaning to
the term Rock Band from that which we know
today), though the present whereabouts of that
instrument is unknown. Nor were they the only such
band, for Daniel Till and his sons were also well
known and, according to Blades, their instrument is
preserved in the museum in Orange, New Jersey.
Another is in the Horniman Museum in London, but
that is a simpler version of twenty slabs, similar to
those of the eighteenth century.
Although it was long before the xylophone was to
become a regular member of the orchestra,
Crosthwaite's lithophone in that shape was built at
just about the time that the wooden instrument, which had certainly been known in Europe since the
sixteenth century, when Agricola and Holbein drew
17 M. C. Fagg, Rock Music (Oxford: Pitt Rivers Museum, 1997). 18
Francis Bebey, African Music: A People's Art, translated Josephine Bennett (London: Harrap, 1975), 91.
19 Jenny F. So, ed., Music in the Age of Confucius (Washington DC: Smithsonian Institution, 2000), 54-6.
20 Chang Sa-hun, Korean Musical Instruments (Seoul: 2nd edn, 1976), 305 in English, and with more detail in
Korean, 115-18. 21
James Blades, Percussion Instruments and their History (London: Faber, 2nd edn 1975), 82-4. 22
'Lithos' is Greek for stone, and 'phonos' for sound, whereas 'xylon' is Greek for wood. Thus one can speak of
instruments in any material as being 'in xylophone shape', but 'a stone xylophone'
or 'a metal xylophone' can only be a
nonsense.
Montagu?How Old is Music? 177
it, began to be taken seriously in Vienna.23 The
German name of Strohfiedel, which arose from the
type illustrated by those artists, with the wooden
bars lying across hanks of twisted straw, strongly
suggests a derivation from East Africa, where the
bars normally lie across banana stems or some
similar soft material, rather than upon the wooden
frames more often seen in West Africa. No one could even begin to assess the age of the
xylophone in Africa, nor in South East Asia, where it
is also endemic, but one could venture to say that it
would seem unlikely that instruments of stone, such as that from Ndut Lieng Krak, were earlier than
simpler, and more easily carved and tuned, instru ments of wood. Wood, however, does not survive
burial in the earth for as long as stone. If we may return to the beginning of this article, when we
mentioned the use of concussion sticks, as soon as
there was any perception of pitch at all by early man, it must have been recognised that two different
sticks produced two different pitches, even that one
stick, when rotated 90 degrees in the hand,
produced two different pitches (a problem known
today to claves players, who often mark their sticks to show which side should be uppermost in the
hand). Thus the date at which anybody first laid out two or more sticks, and struck them with another, is
open to the widest speculation. The simplest form of
xylophone, still found both in Africa and South East
Asia, has two or three bars (seldom more for reasons
of space) laid across the outstretched legs of a player seated on the ground?whether this was the earliest
we can never know.
SYMBIOSIS
Almost all musical instruments require some human
intervention but in only a few of them do the cavities
of the human body form a part of the sound chain.
Two of those few are the trump or jews harp and the
simplest form of the musical bow, the mouthbow.
With each, the player uses the mouth cavity to
resonate overtones of the fundamental provided by
the instrument, and to produce the music that is a
sequence of these overtones or harmonics.
It has long been accepted that the musical bow is
the earliest of string instruments. In Greek legend, it was Apollo, the sun god, who was inspired by the
twang of his sister Diana's bow string as the divine
huntress's arrow sped from the bow; in India the
bow was invented by Shiva, again a god; and in
Japanese legend the music played on a group of
bows tempted the sun goddess Amaterasu, who had
hidden herself deep in a cave, plunging all the world
into Stygian gloom, to come forth and thus restore
light to the world. These legends, and many more, are cited by Henry Balfour in what is still the most
comprehensive survey of the instrument, The
Natural History ofthe Musical Bow.24 Such legends are surely true in essence, that the bow was the
earliest of the string instruments, but what we can
never know is whether the archer's bow inspired the
musician's, or whether the musician's use of a bow
led to the archer's. Just as the technologist can claim
that flint-knapping came before the musical use of
stones, the toxophilist can claim that the archer
preceded the musician, but we, as organologists, have the equal right to claim that the musical use
inspired the mundane.
The most common playing technique with the
bow is to tap the string with a light stick, and while
this could have been an arrow in the archer's hand,
equally it could have been a stick in the hand of a
musician who saw a target, tempting him to launch
the first arrow. In the same way, the ground bow, a
flexible stave with one end planted in the earth, and a string running from the upper end to a plate of
wood or bark over a resonating hole in the ground, could have inspired the snare, and equally easily the snare could have inspired the ground bow.
In neither case shall we ever know the answer, for
the archer's bow must date back to the Mesolithic or
even to the later Palaeolithic times, which are when
the first arrowheads appear in the archaeological record, and the ground bow is probably even earlier. If this origin for the musical bow is true, it means
that string instruments are comparatively late in
human history, the last group to be developed, save
perhaps for membranophones, the skin drums and, of course, the electrophones, which were developed from the earliest years of the twentieth century, with
wind instruments probably a good deal earlier and
the idiophones, the hard percussion instruments, the
first of all. The archer's bow is simply
a wooden stave,
flexible enough to be bent, yet rigid enough and
strong enough always to resist such a bend and to try to revert to the straight. It is normally thinned
somewhat towards the two ends, and this is true of
the musical bow also. Balfour cites as his first
example, the bow of the Damara people of South
West Africa, for this is one which was, when Francis
Galton was travelling in that area around 1850, still
used for both purposes.25 A hunter would:
23 R. M. Longyear, 'Ferdinand Kauer's Percussion Enterprises', Galpin Society Journal XXVII (1974), 2-8.
24 Henry Balfour, The Natural History of the Musical Bow: A Chapter in the developmental History of Stringed
Instruments of Music, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1899). 25
Balfour, Musical Bow, 5-8, citing Francis Galton, Travels in S. Africa (1851) and other authors.
178 The Galpin Society Journal
while away his spare time in strumming upon his
improvised instrument... When required for music, all
that is done is to add a little string bracing towards, but
not at the centre of the bow, drawing the bow string to
the bow. This not only tightens the bow-string and
raises the notes producible, but also divides it into two
unequal lengths giving different notes, which can be
elicited by tapping rhythmically with a small stick.
This account describes the technique used on a
wide variety of mouthbows. Most have a string braced and divided in this way, then by tapping one
half of the string with the striking stick one obtains
the overtones of, for example, C and on the other
half those of D or whatever the equivalents may be in the local scale system. The same is achieved with an unbraced string which is stopped near one end by
raising a knuckle against it or by stopping it with a
short stick?both techniques are known, and either
gives enough notes for any simple melody. A few
combine both techniques, to provide a third
fundamental and thus a fuller sequence of available overtones.
The player holds the bow between the lips or the
teeth, or sometimes the string between the slightly parted lips, and, by altering the mouth-shape as one
does when forming the different vowels, a, e, i, o, u, and moving the tongue to alter the mouth-capacity,
produces overtones of the fundamental. These are
drawn from the harmonic series. However, C. J. Adkins has shown that in the case ofthe trump some
of the overtones are non-harmonic, and it would
seem probable that this applies also to the bow,
though that instrument has not yet been studied in
the same scientific detail.26
The bow is widely known from Africa and many
reports have been published, in addition to
Balfour's, particularly those by Percival Kirby and David Rycroft.27 Shapes and patterns vary some
what. Most stick fairly closely to the archer's pattern
though, particularly in East Africa, a somewhat
elaborated pattern is found. This has a rigid
cylindrical central section, sometimes quite short,
15 centimetres, 6 inches or so in length, sometimes
twice that or even more, with an arm at each end
only half a centimetre (a quarter of an inch) or so in
thickness, continuing the line of the outermost part of the cylinder. Very commonly one arm is more bent
than the other. A complex variant of this is the three
part bow: the central cylinder with a hole bored in
each end to receive a flexible arm.
The normal material for the stave is wood, though cane is sometimes seen. With those bows which were
both archer's and musician's, the string would
normally be of gut or sinew. For bows of strictly musical purpose, more fragile 'strings' were often
used, of reed and other vegetable matter. Since the
advent of commercial materials, wire has often
replaced those of natural origin which require more
preparation, as has common string and, more
recently, monofilament nylon.
Most bows are, as we have noted, tapped with a
light stick. Few if any have the string plucked, for
this would on the whole be a less-effective method of
performance. Some have notches cut in the bow
stave, usually near one end, and these are then
rubbed, or rather rasped, with a stick. The sound is
then a combination of a musical rasp and of the bow
string and its overtones, for rasping the stave makes
it vibrate and that vibration is in turned passed to the
string. More rarely the string itself is rubbed, as
Rycroft recorded.28 Some bows are blown, though this seems confined to the lesiba of the Xhosa people and the Igor a of the Korana, both of South Africa.29
These have a bow string which is attached to the stave at one end but at the other is attached to a strip of quill which is, in turn, fixed to the end of the stave.
The player blows forcefully on this quill, which
makes the string vibrate.30 These are the only known
mouth-resonated blown bows, though aeolian
bows, attached to kites, were widely used in China.
The ordinary mouth-resonated musical bow is by no means confined to Africa, though it survives there
more widely than elsewhere. Examples are known
from India and Melanesia and Polynesia. These are
sometimes differently shaped, the stave a flat
wooden lath, thin enough across the width to be
flexible. The fact that in those and many other areas
gourd-resonated bows are known suggests that
26 C. J. Adkins, 'Investigation of the sound-producing mechanism of the Jew's harp', Journal ofthe Acoustical Society
of America 55:3 (March, 1974), 667-70. 27 Percival Kirby, The Musical Instruments of the Native Races of South Africa (London: Oxford University Press,
1934); David Rycroft, Zulu, Swazi en Xhosa, (Tervuren: Musee Royal de l'Afrique Centrale, in conjunction with the
Belgian Radio and Television, nd). 28 David Rycroft, 'Friction Chordophones in South-Eastern Africa', Galpin Society Journal XIX (1966), 84-100. 29
Kirby (Musical Instruments ofthe Native Races) devotes a whole chapter to descriptions and photographs of these
instruments, 171-92. Henry Balfour also devoted a separate paper to them, 'The Goura, a
stringed-wind musical
instrument of the Bushmen and Hottentots', Journal of the Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Northern
Ireland XXXII (1902), 156-76 with plates XII-XIV. 30
How he at the same time alters the mouth-shape to produce different pitches I do not know; neither Rycroft nor I
were able to get any sound out of his or my examples, which inhibited investigation.
Montagu?How Old is Music? 179
mouthbows may well have existed there once. One
problem with the mouthbow is that the sound is very
quiet; it is an instrument primarily designed for the
player's own enjoyment. Another is that if a player wishes to sing
to their own accompaniment, they are
then reduced to the two, or at most three, funda
mentals ofthe bow-string, as evinced in a number of
Rycroft's recordings. The use of a gourd or other resonator solves both these problems, and the use of the gourd bow is as we said above much more
widespread today than that of the mouthbow.
Meanwhile, there is one problem that we should at least outline, and this is the vexed question of
whether any string instruments existed in the Americas before the arrival of Christopher Columbus
and his successors. Certainly there have been no
archaeological discoveries of string instruments on
the American continent, nor has any evidence been
adduced for their existence in any of the ancient
cultures. Many instruments appear in the Mexican
codices, many others on Mochica pots, but none of
them are stringed.
The peoples of North America were certainly archers by the time that the Europeans arrived, and
arrow-heads have been found there from much
earlier periods. And yet it is normally held that there were no string instruments known in pre-Columbian times, and certainly there is no evidence for their
presence. The Brazilian gourd-resonated bow, the
birimbao, is believed to derive from those made by African slaves. There is a very simple bowed tube
zither known from the North American Plains,
always referred to as the Apache fiddle, but nobody has ever produced any definitive evidence for its
origin or date.31 It would seem surprising if there were archers but no musical bows, but at present no
more can be said than that.
The bow is not a difficult instrument to make,
though a suitable piece of wood has to be found, cut, and shaped, and a string of some material must be
obtained and prepared. With the advent of trading stores, it may well often have been easier to pay a
few pence for a ready-made instrument which
would play the same music. The resemblance
between the mouthbow and the trump was noted by several of the early travellers, who would describe
an instrument which was new to their readers in terms of one with which they were familiar. One
writer cited by Balfour, a German, even referred to
the bow as 'die Maultrommel', using the German name for the trump.32
This was our second example above of a
symbiotic instrument: the trump or jews harp. The common English name is a stumbling block, and
nobody knows its origin.33 The modern form, in our
culture, has a metal frame with two parallel arms
which lie closely to each side (the closeness is
acoustically important) of a flexible steel tongue, which functions as a reed. One end of the reed is
fixed rigidly to the back of the frame and the other is turned up in a right-angle so that it may be plucked
with a finger; the end is usually rolled over, or at least
bent, so as not to scratch the finger. The instrument is played with the frame against the teeth, and as the reed is plucked the overtones of its sound are
selected and amplified by movement of the tongue and alteration ofthe mouth capacity, exactly as with the musical bow. The sound of the reed provides a
constant drone just as does that of the bow string. Where the trump originated is unknown but the
relationship between it and the mouthorgan in
South-East Asia is so clear that one would suggest with some confidence that it is likely to have been
somewhere in that area. Each instrument will only function if, fitting closely in a frame, there is a reed
which is free to vibrate to and fro within that frame, which is why such instruments as mouthorgans, reed
organ, harmoniums, concertinas, and accordions, are
called free-reed instruments. The pitch of each reed
depends on its length and its mass, and it is quite common to see the free end of the reed loaded to
increase its mass and so lower the pitch. Many South-East Asian varieties have reeds cut integrally in a piece of bamboo. Those for the mouthorgans are small enough to respond to blowing by the
player's mouth; the trumps are too large for this to
work and therefore they are plucked, but just by looking
at them one can see that they are the same.
Others are cut in a piece of thin metal sheet, and
again the same resemblance is apparent. All these are idioglottal, the reed or tongue being cut in the same piece of bamboo or metal as the frame.
31 David P. McAllester, 'An Apache Fiddle', Ethno-Musicology Newsletter 8 (September 1956), 1-5.
32 Dr Oscar Baumann, Eine Africanische Tropen-Insel, Fernando Poo und die Bube (Vienna: E. Holzel, 1888), 99. 33 Jew's trump is the oldest English name, according to the Oxford English Dictionary (p. 1508 in the compact
edition, p. 579 ofthe relevant volume in the original), in a reference to the rates of Customs charges from 1545. The first
reference to a Jew's harp is fifty years later. Various writers have pretended that jaws is the original term, into which Jew's has been modified by folk etymology, but there is no lexical justification for this; the earlier name is Jew's, but why nobody knows. Frederick Crane has rightly suggested in his editorial, that in these days when people are liable to take
offence from perfectly ordinary, or traditional, language, the instrument would be better referred to as the trump tout
court. See Crane, ed., Vierundzwanzigsteljahrschrift der Intemationalen Maultrommel-virtuosengenossenschaft 4
(1994), 5-7.
180 The Galpin Society Journal
Heteroglottal trumps and mouthorgan reeds are
also known from the same area.
Genevieve Dournon-Taurelle and John Wright go into far greater morphological and typological
detail than we have space for.34 It will probably suffice here to introduce three main types: the flat,
mainly idioglottal examples such the above, which are characteristic of Eastern and South-East Asia,
made usually of bamboo, metal, bone, or ivory; those partly circular in section from New Guinea
and other parts of Oceania, mainly Melanesia,
always of bamboo; and those of metal, always
heteroglot, a metal frame with an inserted reed, most commonly steel, used from India and western
Siberia through to Europe and, subsequently,
beyond. The simplest of these are the Melanesian.35 These
are made by slicing a section of bamboo longi
tudinally, usually retaining part of the node at what
will become the hinge end, and forming the body into a narrow, elongated almond-shape, coming
to a
point at the distal end. A narrow tongue is cut or
abraded down the centre line of the body, usually
stopping just short of the distal end. This end is
separated into two points, which are tied together with thin cord to aid structural stability; the cord is
knotted between the points to hold them far enough apart to allow the reed to vibrate freely, yet close
enough together for acoustical linkage.36 A hole or
projection at the hinge end has a cord attached and
the player holds this cord, partly to jerk the hinge but
partly as a measure of length so as to knock on the
reed at the correct position and aid its vibration. The
instruments may look clumsy to our eyes, though
they are often elaborately decorated with incised and
stained, or burned, patterns, but in skilled hands they are as efficient as most other patterns.
The flat East and South East Asian variety has
been described above and differs from the trump that we know also by being plucked at the hinge end
rather than at the free end ofthe tongue. This is done
either by plucking directly with the finger on the
body at that end or again by jerking a cord tied
through a hole at that end. In either way the reed is
made to vibrate.
The third type, with an iron frame, is seen in
Nepal and the Indian sub-continent in general. It has
been suggested that it travelled thence into Europe where it was known by late Roman times.37
Medieval examples are common in collections and
show that the instrument was known and used
throughout Europe. An important centre of
manufacture in historical times was, and remains, in
the Austrian Tyrol, centred on the town of Molln.38
It was produced, certainly in England and probably elsewhere, for export and trade to Africa and other
colonial areas. This European form of the
instrument was generally adopted in Africa, where
there is no known earlier indigenous form, probably
partly because it was a common article of trade
goods from the sixteenth century onwards, carried to Africa for exchange for gold, ivory, and other
products of greater value, and partly because it
formed a cheap and ready-made substitute for the
musical bow, whose music it could play and whose use it could supplant. As a result, instruments
copying the European form were made by African
blacksmiths, especially in the western areas such as
Nigeria. In Mongolia and Siberia there is a tradition of flat,
idioglottal instruments, often made from bone and
similar materials, but today they have adopted vari ants of the European model, often somewhat larger and heavier than the norm, and of much better quality than most others save perhaps the Norwegian. In
both areas there is a strong tradition now of skilled
craftsmen making individual instruments to order.
Elsewhere in Europe, and America, there seems to be more
emphasis on
mass-production, excellent for the
amateur and for the increasing popularity of the
instrument, which has begun to appear once again on
the concert platform and frequently in the studios, but
less suited to the virtuoso.
In many areas the trump was used for magical
purposes, especially love magic. It is believed that it can speak and certainly in some traditions both
players and hearers purport to hear and understand
the words it sounds as well as the music. It is also
used for dance music and, particularly in Indonesia, in groups somewhat orchestrally. In many
areas
34 Genevieve Dournon-Taurelle and John Wright, Les guimbardes du
musee de Vhomme (Paris: Institut d'ethnologie,
1978). 35
Hans Fischer, Schallgerdte in Ozeanien: Bau und Spieltechnik?Verbreitung und Funktion (Strasbourg: P. H. Heitz,
1958), translated Philip W. Holzknecht and ed. Don Niles, as Sound-Producing Instruments in Oceania (Boroko:
Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies, revised edn, 1986?the first edition should be avoided), 27-29 (in the
translation, 47-52) and figs 107-113. 36
Dournon-Taurelle and Wright, figs. VII, 1-5 and 14, pp. 45-50. 37
Dournon-Taurelle and Wright illustrate Gallo-Roman examples, p. 103, which will also be found in Le Carnyx et
la Lyre (Besancon-Orleans-Evreux: 1993), 20-1, nos 3-7. 38
Karl M. Klier, Volkstiimliche Musikinstrumente in den Alpen (Kassel: Barenreiter, 1956), 71-7.
Montagu?How Old is Music? 181
trumps are made with more than one tongue, or
several trumps may be used together, as among the
Naxi in Yunnan and Sichuan in southwest China, where three are held to the mouth together.39 Heinrich Scheibler's invention of the Aura, which
had up to ten trumps clamped together, so that the
player could modulate from one key to another, was
an extreme form of this.40
We said just now that the trump was used in
Africa as a substitute for the musical bow. There are
some areas which have produced a substitute for the
trump. One is in New Guinea where, among the
Tifalmin, often as a boy's plaything, a beetle may be
held against the mouth, its wings buzzing furiously to produce the fundamental pitch which is varied
by altering the mouth capacity.41 Lajos Vargyas described a Mongolian substitute to the Nineteenth
Conference of the International Folk Music Council
in Ostend in 1967, introducing for the first time to many of us the phenomenon now usually known as overtone or multivoice singing.42 The musician
sounds a vocal drone and, by manipulation of the
tongue and the vocal tracts, sounds the overtones of
that drone. A detailed study of the techniques
employed to achieve this, and the acoustical
phenomena involved, by one performer, Tran
Quang Hai, has been published by the Institut de la
Voix in Limoges.43 This technique is widespread in the eastern parts
of what was once the USSR, especially among the
Tuva, the Bashkir, and their neighbours, and there is a number of recordings of its use. Tran Quang Hai
and his followers have taught many people in our
culture how to do it, and it is beginning to be heard
with some frequency in our own music. The basic
technique is not difficult to acquire?it consists of
humming (but with open lips) a sound similar to a
nasal 'ill' or 'ell' at the back of the mouth, with the
tongue curled up towards the roof. Far more diffi
cult, the result of long practice (it has been suggested not all of it good for the physical well-being) is to
produce a clear, flexible, singing overtone sound
with a minimum of obtrusive drone.
A recently published study by Mark van Tongeren goes into this technique in considerable detail,
describing the use in many parts of the world,
including by composers such as Stockhausen and
many references to recordings where it may be
heard, as well as its own CD of folk use and
demonstrations of how it is done.44
A rather different technique is cultivated in some
parts of Tibet. Here the drone, instead of being
generated at the back of the mouth, comes, it would
seem, from the depths of the stomach, though in
practice probably no lower than the base of the
throat, resembling the sound of the long trumpets so widely used in that culture. To see and hear a
group of monks producing these eerie sounds,
accompanied by cymbals and alternating with the
long trumpets, is indeed impressive, but how the overtones are
produced I cannot say.45
We said at the beginning of this section that with
only a few instruments does the human body
provide part of the sound chain, but this may be
because conventional scientific acoustical analysis of instrumental sound concentrates solely upon the
instrument, usually divorcing it from the player, and
generating its sound by mechanical means in order to keep it as constant as possible, well separated from the vagaries of
a musician's input. However,
this is not how instruments are played. Every teacher
knows that the player's posture, and thus the access
to the player's inner spaces and organs, has a very
considerable impact on the sound produced. To take just one very clear example, when
a
trumpet player fills the lungs and then holds that
39 Helen Rees, Echoes of History: Naxi Music in Modern China (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 62-4 and
CD, track 6. 40
Leonard Fox, The Jew's Harp: A Comprehensive Anthology (Lewisburg: Bucknell University Press, 1988),
translates Scheibler's original article from the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, 30 (24 July 1816), as 'The Aura',
87-95, and also Wilhelm Ludwig Schmidt's booklet in praise of the instrument (Quedlinburg: Gottfried Basse, 1840), as 'The Aura or Mouth-Harmonica Presented as a Musical Instrument', 97-152. He also provides a translation of
Klier's chapter on the trump, noted above, 65-83.
41 Described, with a recording, by Professor Anthony Forge at
a meeting of the Ethnomusicology Panel of the Royal
Anthropological Institute in London in the early 1960s and, according to Gilbert Rouget (in Dournon-Taurelle and
Wright, 6) by B. Juillerat at a seminar of the Departement d'ethnomusicologie in Paris in 1971.
42 Lajos Vargyas, 'Performing Styles in Mongolian Chant', Journal of the International Folk Music Council 20
(1968), 70-2. 43 Institut de la Voix, Dossier no 1: Le Chant Diphonique (Limoges: Institut de la Voix, 1989). 44
Mark C. van Tongeren, Overtone Singing: physics and metaphysics of harmonics in east and west (Amsterdam:
Fusica,2002). 45
So often in any research, descriptions depend on being able to do something oneself, and I have tried this without
success. The technique was first brought to general notice by David Lewiston with his recording Tibetan Buddhism:
Tantras ofGyiito: Mahakala (New York: Nonesuch Records, 1973), recorded in the Gyiito Tantric College, Dalhousie, Himachal Pradesh.
182 The Galpin Society Journal
posture and that lung expansion with the muscles of
the chest as the lungs slowly empty of air, this will
produce a far brighter and stronger sound than
when the chest is allowed to fall as the lungs empty, even though playing at the same dynamic level. In some way, the air cavities of the chest are providing resonance chambers for the sound, even though that
sound is being produced far above, at the contact
point between lips and mouthpiece. The trumpet cannot be alone in this, though my
experience has been in teaching brass instruments
and not in woodwind or strings. Clearly, this is one
of the many reasons why no two players ever sound
the same, even if one hands the instrument to
another, and thus why, as we just said,
no
mechanically induced acoustical experiment can
ever tell us the truth about any instrument. With
wind instruments, as with the voice, it is all the parts of the vocal tract, from the diaphragm up to the
cavities of the sinus, that affect the sound.46 A more overt use of the vocal tracts with an
instrument is humming while one plays. This is how
horn players produce chords, for example in
Weber's Concertino; one note is played, another is
hummed, and a third, sometimes a fourth, just appear as resultant tones. Put simply, if one plays the
5th harmonic and hums the 3rd (on a fundamental
of C these are E and G respectively), the 2nd will
result as a difference tone (5 minus 3) and the 8th as
a summation tone (5 plus 3), each an octave of C, but the effect is by no means restricted to those overtones. It is also one of the ways by which
modern wind players produce special effects called
for by various modern composers. More impor
tantly, within their own culture, this is how Turkish
and Balkan, especially Bulgarian and Romanian, flautists produce a drone to accompany their
instrument. Characteristic of both the kaval, the
long end-blown flute, and the dilli kaval or fluierul, the duct flutes, Turkish and Romanian, the drone, often referred to as the ison, which may also be
varied into a slow-moving true second part or
harmonic bass, is an essential part of the music. As
well as being an ideal accompaniment, the hummed
drone has a drastic effect on the tone quality. The sound of a flute tends to be a very pure and
simple one, with very little harmonic content. The moment one begins to hum, this changes. The tone
quality becomes narrower, more
reedy, with a strong
hiss and the semblance, at least, of a fuller harmonic content. Just why this
occurs is not clear. Laurence
Picken, whose study of Turkish folk instruments is
beyond compare, says only 'The possibility of
producing a vocal drone while blowing depends on
the throat being relaxed, which in turn has a decisive
effect on the character of the air-stream and the
generation of the edge-tone.'47
We have come full circle, from instruments which
represented voices, to a use of the voice which
replaced an instrument and another which enhanced
the sound of an instrument. How old are any of
these techniques? We do not know, we cannot know.
The flutes with which the player hums are little
different from those found in the caves of
Magdalenian France, and others of equal or greater
antiquity. What we can do with the passages of our
vocal tracts, the Cro Magnon could do with the
passages of their caves. What homo habilis could do
with a pair of sticks, we can do in our dance bands.
What pre-hominids could do on a dancing ground, we can do in our dance halls today. How old is
music? Surely the only answer we can produce is
'older than we can ever imagine'.
46 This also is the apparatus with which overtone singing is achieved.
47 Laurence Picken, Folk Musical Instruments of Turkey (London: Oxford University Press, 1975), p. 399. He gives
one extended musical example of this technique, on pp. 401-11, showing during its course all three uses, the drone, the
varying harmonic bass, and the true second part.
- Article Contents
- p. 171
- p. 172
- p. 173
- p. 174
- p. 175
- p. 176
- p. 177
- p. 178
- p. 179
- p. 180
- p. 181
- p. 182
- Issue Table of Contents
- The Galpin Society Journal, Vol. 57 (May, 2004), pp. 1-280
- Front Matter
- Editorial [p. 2-2]
- William Lander (1763-1843), Mere, Wiltshire. A Forgotten Musical Instrument Maker Rediscovered [pp. 3-18, 195-203]
- Orphicas: Genuine, Less Genuine and Fakes [pp. 19-45, 204-205]
- The Musical Enigma of Longman and Broderip's Monochord, c.1790 [pp. 46-52, 206-207]
- Renaissance and Early Baroque Flutes: An Update on Surviving Instruments, Pitches and Consort Grouping [pp. 53-61]
- Woodwind Instruments of Boosey & Company [pp. 62-80, 208-214]
- Three Early Transposing Two-Manual Harpsichords of the Antwerp School [pp. 81-116, 215]
- The Pace Family of Musical Instrument Makers, 1788-1901 [pp. 117-126]
- The Musette de Poitou in 17th-Century France [pp. 127-145]
- The Importance of Cane Selection in Historical Bassoon Reed-Making [pp. 146-149]
- Franz Jakob Spath and the "Tangentenflügel", an Eighteenth-Century Tradition [pp. 150-170]
- How Old Is Music? [pp. 171-182]
- Stradivari's Viols [pp. 183-194, 216]
- The Evolution of the Baltic Psaltery: A Case for Phyloorganology [pp. 219-230, 217]
- The Piano Maker Adam Beyer, a German by Birth [pp. 231-235, 216]
- 19th-Century Amateur Music Societies in France and the Changes of Instrument Construction: Their Evolution Caught between Passivity and Progress [pp. 236-245, 218]
- Instrument-Making in Oxford [pp. 246-251]
- Correspondence [pp. 252-255]
- Reviews
- Review: untitled [pp. 256-258]
- Review: untitled [pp. 258-259]
- Review: untitled [pp. 259-260]
- Review: untitled [pp. 261-263]
- Review: untitled [pp. 263-264]
- Review: untitled [pp. 264-266]
- Review: untitled [pp. 266-267]
- Review: untitled [pp. 267-269]
- Review: untitled [pp. 269-270]
- Review: untitled [pp. 270-272]
- Notes & Queries
- A Register of Early Reeds: A Bassoon Reed in the Edinburgh University Collection [p. 273-273]
- Back Matter