Ringers, Clangers and Tailors

In the 1998 movie "Bad Manners" (David Strathairn, Bonnie Bedelia, Saul Rubinek and Caroleen Feeney), a musicology professor finds, from a computer-generated collection of random tones, a clear quotation of Martin Luther's hymn melody "Ein' Feste Burg." That's not the story, but a small platform from which we shall leap to bell ringing in England. Ignore the vertiginous transition!

Legend has it that Dorothy Sayers (author of the Lord Peter Wimsey novels) wrote 'The Nine Tailors" after coming across a brochure backgrounding change ringing in England's churches--the practice of making music by following prescribed patterns to ring various bells, each controlled by an individual at the rope.

This sounds easy until you consider the size of the bells and the anticipation required to get things moving in advance of the clapper actually contacting the bell.

The tradition is rich and deep, and continues to this day. It all seems to hark back to an initial printed work by a man name Troyte, whose name is far from forgotten among those who study and practice this arcane art.

The 8 bells in the tower at Fenchurch St. Paul are in fact salient to the Sayers story; the Nine Tailors refers to a sequential ring of one bell--Tailor Paul, the tenor bell, and the largest there--announcing the death of a parisioner. Tailor Paul, according to the novel, is a 41 cwt (over two tons I think that would mean) bell tuned to C. Paul's companion bells have intriguing names, some cast, as Paul, by John Tailor in 1887: Gaude, Sabaoth, Dimity, Jubilee, John, Jericho, and Batty Thomas.

Seen through a wide angle lens, music came to and has remained, in large part, not a random product. But does that automatically exclude random tones, never repeated, from the realm of music?

The photos above are from my back yard. Parts came from junk shops and thrift stores. The tubular, tranditional wind chimes were made to formulas found on the web. The longest tube is 40 inches.

The "cymbals" are former diamond saw blades, 18" in diameter. The welded rings which "play" them are some kind of fine steel; they ring beautifully when struck.

The large chrome chime, with three clappers, is an aluminum planter, 19 inches tall, 18 in diameter. It shall forever be known as Tailor Paul.

They ding gently in the smallest breeze. When gusts cataract through our east-west back yard, it's metallic anarchy. And strangely musical to my ears! Random patterns, never repeated, joyfully chaotic but so pleasant that invariably smiles result.

I have not yet heard a snippet of "A Mighty Fortress..." and I have not intentionally gone out and struck Tailor Paul nine times, following with one strike for every year of the deceased's life.

But it is music, found, and it makes a life richer.

Find some music of your own today. Let it lead you somewhere new.

Eight Minutes and Four Seconds of Fame

Oregon Public Broadcasting (Television): Oregon Art Beat. Each week the two hosts, KC Cowan and Jeff Douglas, profile three artists from our state. Last week was our turn. The clip lacks the hosts' introduction, but KC appears in the shop segment. And Wanda, our pound hound, does a little backside cameo.

Tell us what you learned, and didn't. Comments always appreciated.

Barker Bass on Oregon Art Beat

From Treachery to Triumph

Do you know the song "Perfidia"? Its whole tale is told in Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perfidia

Note the last line, indicating it was used in the off-Broadway show "Forever Plaid." In rehearsing for that show (as bassist) I saw, for the first time, lyrics I had hummed to through many recordings (though I'd forgotten The Ventures) on the Wiki list. And I had never got it.

I somehow linked it with "Poinciana", (The Song of the Tree) which can be played with the same slow latin beat. Both tunes exist in instrumental and vocal versions, and both, to belabor a point, start with the letter P and aren't words of everyday use in my world.

The opening:
To you, my heart cries out "Perfidia," for I found you, the love of my life, in somebody else's arms.


Pretty good so far--the singer calls the object of his/her affection by name (I thought) and is obviously crowing about the theft from another.

But things are going a little sideways now:

Your eyes are echoing "Perfidia", forgetful of our promise of love, you're sharing another's charms...


Our singer gets reflective through the bridge:

With a sad lament my dreams have faded like a broken melody; while the gods of love
look down and laugh and what romantic fools we mortals be...


And turns resolute:

And now, I know my love was not for you, and so I'll take it back with a sigh,
Perfidious one, goodbye!


Perfidious one? Well, "perfidia" is Spanish for "treachery." You can take it from there. Perfidia is not a name at all!

Shallowly, I thought it was a song of love. Well it is, but it has a surprise ending.

Hear a snippet, bridge to close, here:
http://www.mtishows.com/show_detail.asp?showid=000152

And I have a new word to try to use 7 times today.

Ginner Gets an Upgrade

The new purple abalone knobs came from Qparts (q-parts.com) with the express intention of doing a quick and subtle upgrade to #99, Ginner, described in an earlier post.

The knobs are labeled "black" but I knew that it was not the coal black, but the silver black they were describing, and that matches exactly the tuning machines on Ginner.

But alas the knobs were too big, too much girth.

Tim, my business neighbor, guitar player and laser genius, took a look at my quandary and said, "Brass, sure, I can do that!" and in about 20 minutes he had all three turned down on his little mill (see illustration). That shoulder allows the knobs to fit into the counterbore that is one of the hallmarks of our design.

I took a picture precisely 1/3 through the installation so you can see the difference between the two knob designs.

It is reasonable to explore the possibility that the new ones do not protrude enough for rapid deployment. I'll know in a week or two. Because of the Stellartone retrofit, the pot shafts middle and lower are shorter, so the knobs sit down in the counterbores a bit more than the stock knobs, which are taller to boot. As a result, the top pot has to be lowered in the cavity a little bit--requiring an extra nut and washer. If your B1 is stock, it will need three extra nuts and washers (which I can furnish for you).

Meantime I am feeling like a 50's kid (and I am one) that just got a new set of hubcaps for his '51 Shoebox Ford DeLuxe Coupe with torched springs in front and Fingerhut seat covers. (I don't have one.)

One note if you choose to go this way: the knobs are packaged individually. Of my three, one was in perfect condition but the other two were abraded on the abalone surface. They had a dull, not shiny look. I noticed this too late, and rather than return them I had to fix them. About a half hour with Micro-Mesh abrasives and a little water, and all three shine like the sun off a just-thawed pond on a late winter morning.

In retrospect, it's just a little gift I gave myself. Excuse me, I've got to go write a thank you note now...

Dignity

It started with a regular citizen who knew our town had a fairly new city commission charged with placing art in public places and all that surrounds that.

At the outset, that commission spent nearly a year creating its own policies and procedures and then set itself to its mission: enhancing the lives of Redmond citizens via the addition of art that all can share.

The first two works can be seen at www.gregcongleton.com . Click on "installations" and then eagle and the cowboy. They're called "Air Traffic Control" and "Western Swing." Greg is a longtime friend--his family and mine were in the same babysitting coop nearly 30 years ago--and his art is powerful on a number of levels. Enjoy a tour of Greg's work.

A few weeks ago, in a lovely ceremony on a warm early winter day, a crowd gathered to unveil the art commission's latest triumph: a bronze called "Dignity." Pictures attached.

Rodd Ambroson grew up in our town. His journey to art is beautifully written on his web site: http://www.roddambroson.com/index.html where you can see the range of his work.

Back to the citizen mentioned at the beginning of this: Bob Vancil was aware of Rodd's work and suggested it to a member of the commission. From that beginning came the reality of this expressive artistic statement gracing the entrance to the Redmond Chamber of Commerce and Economic Development offices. It could be your first impression of Redmond.

In his remarks at the unveiling, Rodd said she reminds us to "dress up, show up, and do the next right thing." Let it be an inspiration to us to find our own road to dignity. Wonderful things will happen and all will benefit.

Stellartone Tonestyler Revisited, and Hello to Ginner

Back in October, 28th to be precise, I said "in a week" I'd post pictures of this bass. It's been a long week, but here they are. #99. Called "Ginner."

Since completing this assembly and setup, I have played this bass twice weekly at church.

Something's new there: Little post-its on my music that say things like B-4 or M-0 or N-1.
They're reminders to roll to the bridge or neck pickup or the center detent which is both. This is the middle knob.

The lower knob is the Tonestyler. The numbers in my top secret alphanumeric code refer to clicks from the most bass position, which would correspond to "off" on a volume knob. (The top knob is a master volume.)

The amp stays set the same, no preamp fiddling, no foot pedals, just click and go. Sounds sort of like some kind of kitchen floor cleaning gizmo, but it's not. It's an astounding upgrade to a Barker Bass.

A word about Ginner. I had targeted that bass to be my own from the beginning. There was a flaw in the body--not easy to find, but I knew where it was. It couldn't go out the door as a typical representative of the marque, so it stayed around, its future marked boldly: "For Lee."

One year at NAMM we met some delightful men from China who were vending instrument hardware. They were our neighbors across the aisle. We became friends, and they were intrigued with the Barker Bass. On our last day there, they insisted I take a set of their tuning machines. I graciously accepted, out of a sense of diplomacy as well as professional curiosity about less expensive instrument hardware. The machines went into the same figurative drawer as the marked body.

And there was that endpin that Rod, my welder (really, that's his name) missed--the plate a little askew from the shaft.

And Stew at Nordstrand had been gently reminding me that he thought a set of split coils would sound really good in a Barker. I bit on that one. More in the drawer.

And there was this orphan neck. It was not quite "right" but I knew that I could make it work for me.

It looked like an ideal platform for testing the Stellartone.

In fact, I could test the Tonestyler on any Barker B1--it leaves no marks or scars--but I was convinced, from Will Witt's experience with his B1-5 and my playing the Brio here, that this was going to be right down my teacup.

I like it a lot. Ginner will be around a long time.

She's named after my mother, who died in mid October. Mom survived the Depression by getting by. She was a saver: "You never know when you might need one of these..." She was genius at making do. She would appreciate that I built in her honor not a perfect, top-o'-the-line bass, but one characterized by the triumph of using what's at hand. #99. Unique. Of humble origins. Stands tall.

Unretouched Photos

December 9, 2008: I stepped out the shop door last night, headed home, stepped back in and grabbed my camera. Enough said.