![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Up in Oxford for a rehearsal yesterday, I walked by a large, smiling group of people having their picture taken in Christ Church Meadow. Nothing extraordinary there, except that they were all holding serpents.
Not the reptiles, you understand, the Renaissance wind instruments. The very rarely played Renaissance wind instruments. I did not know there were as many serpents in the world as I saw that afternoon in the meadow. I said as much to one of the merry crowd; he replied "Oh, we've had more in the past." It turns out that once every two years, in the month of May, a Gathering takes place of serpent players from many nations. Yes, I had stumbled upon Serpentarium 2007-- and they were headed to the Music Faculty to rehearse, as was I.
The serpent is a strange beast: it's got a brass instrument's mouthpiece, but finger holes like a woodwind. Its sound is similar to a modern euphonium, but with more treble, a bit like a nasal voice: it's got that strident, in-ya-face quality we associate with early wind music. Plus, it looks cool-- wicked cool. Carrying a serpent officially makes you an early-music badass. Those fluffy-haired lute players are not going to fuck with you, lest you unleash the wrath of George.
The typical period band contains only one or two serpents. I sat down in the foyer to wait for my accompanist, and watched 40 or so serpents of various sizes file past into the rehearsal hall. Then they started to play. I quickly learned two essential facts about serpents:
1. They are very loud.
2. No two are tuned at exactly the same pitch.
My accompanist was late-- very late. By the time he showed up, I was beginning to acquire a new understanding of why the serpent had seen such extensive use in war.
Guy and I rehearsed for quite awhile, but as we headed for the door, the serpentists were still hard at it. Let me just say that you haven't lived until you've heard a roomful of serpents playing the 1812 Overture.
OH LOOK, HERE'S A FREE DOWNLOAD. I love the internet.
My encounter with the brave band of serpenteers only strengthens my theory that early music geeks are the best geeks. May they march into the future with their weirdly-shaped horns held high.
In conclusion, let me give some love to a few other period wind instruments: the sackbut, the zink and its cousin the lizard, the shawm, and my personal favourite: the krummhorn. Enjoy!
EDIT: the twisted path I took through the Web to get the links for this article brought me to a wholly new instrument: the Hosaphone. Go for the sound samples, stay for the FAQ.
Not the reptiles, you understand, the Renaissance wind instruments. The very rarely played Renaissance wind instruments. I did not know there were as many serpents in the world as I saw that afternoon in the meadow. I said as much to one of the merry crowd; he replied "Oh, we've had more in the past." It turns out that once every two years, in the month of May, a Gathering takes place of serpent players from many nations. Yes, I had stumbled upon Serpentarium 2007-- and they were headed to the Music Faculty to rehearse, as was I.
The serpent is a strange beast: it's got a brass instrument's mouthpiece, but finger holes like a woodwind. Its sound is similar to a modern euphonium, but with more treble, a bit like a nasal voice: it's got that strident, in-ya-face quality we associate with early wind music. Plus, it looks cool-- wicked cool. Carrying a serpent officially makes you an early-music badass. Those fluffy-haired lute players are not going to fuck with you, lest you unleash the wrath of George.
The typical period band contains only one or two serpents. I sat down in the foyer to wait for my accompanist, and watched 40 or so serpents of various sizes file past into the rehearsal hall. Then they started to play. I quickly learned two essential facts about serpents:
1. They are very loud.
2. No two are tuned at exactly the same pitch.
My accompanist was late-- very late. By the time he showed up, I was beginning to acquire a new understanding of why the serpent had seen such extensive use in war.
Guy and I rehearsed for quite awhile, but as we headed for the door, the serpentists were still hard at it. Let me just say that you haven't lived until you've heard a roomful of serpents playing the 1812 Overture.
OH LOOK, HERE'S A FREE DOWNLOAD. I love the internet.
My encounter with the brave band of serpenteers only strengthens my theory that early music geeks are the best geeks. May they march into the future with their weirdly-shaped horns held high.
In conclusion, let me give some love to a few other period wind instruments: the sackbut, the zink and its cousin the lizard, the shawm, and my personal favourite: the krummhorn. Enjoy!
EDIT: the twisted path I took through the Web to get the links for this article brought me to a wholly new instrument: the Hosaphone. Go for the sound samples, stay for the FAQ.