Celtic Canons Craft and Craftsmen İn

Cinzia Yates British Forum for Ethnomusicology Conference 2008

Celtic Canons: Craft and craftsmen in Manx traditional music

This paper will explore the relevance of craft as a canon forming force in the traditional music of the Isle of Man. In particular, it will invoke William Weber’s conception of canon in the western art tradition (2001), a conception that places craft as one of the central elements in canon formation and that relates craft to the craftsmanship of highly accomplished but usually professional composers. However, in Manx traditional music ‐ where authorship is usually unknown ‐ it would appear that Weber’s connection of craft to composer is not directly applicable.

However, this paper will explore diachronically the relationship between craft and craftsmanship in the collection rather than in the composition of a relevant canon. In this respect, it will document the principal collectors and it will discuss the main arrangers of Manx traditional music. It will also look at the final stage of canon formation by focusing upon the folk revival where craftsmen were involved in the re‐ dissemination of earlier collected work. Further, the paper will consider the significance of craft and craftsmen for the modern Manx canon, paying especial attention to the role of connoisseurs in this matter. In sum, the paper will, once again, place craft at the centre of canon formation. In contrast to Weber, however, it will highlight the perception of craft and evaluate its meaning for a canonizing body.

Canon Any discussion of canon is wrought with difficulties as a single definition of canon has not yet been agreed upon. Although canons appear within a number of disciplines, each discipline brings its own set of distinct values to the discussion. However, a canon in its most basic form can be seen to be a nebulous grouping of discrete works, artefacts or ideas that represent a community. It is always very tempting to refer to ‘the’ canon as we tend to immediately think of the canon that relates most to our own discipline, and it is this tendency that causes much of the tension in canon debates. A canon can be seen as a moral ruling force; the implications of ‘canonisation’ are endless. The term canon is also regularly used in relation to the set of literary works seen to epitomise the achievements of writers throughout history, and firmly places

Shakespeare at the centre of this selection. Canon can also be used to describe the set of pieces at the centre of what is received as Western Art Music, with Beethoven as the central figure.

Due to the ruling or dominant connotations of the term, canon is often defined by the values of these three major canons of sacred texts, literature and music and all smaller or nascent canons are measured against these values. In musicology and ethnomusicology other canons are recognised, such as that of rock music by Carys Wyn Jones (2006), pieces used by the b‐boy or break dancing community in America as exposed by Schloss (2006), and in all forms of modern folk music by Bohlman (1988). Now we have becoming more comfortable with the concept of multiple canons it does not necessarily mean we should disregard what can still be learnt from the writings on the three major canons. In this way I will combine the ideas of Weber with regard to canon formation in Western Art Music, with Bohlman’s small group model of canon formation in folk music.

Craft in Canon Craft is the use of skill to create an object of both aesthetic value and also utilitarian purpose. The craft object has a primary function, while the aesthetic attributes are an addition which increases the worth of the object within the context of cultural and social values. Craft is the work of a craftsman, and a craftsman can only come by his or her skills through years of apprenticeship and then practice. Although craftsmen are often accomplished amateurs, the work of a craftsman exceeds the necessary level of the merely professional. The craftsman becomes a master of the tools of his trade, yet may not be skilled in all aspects of his field. Craftsmen often carry a hereditary element to their craft, learning from their fathers who in turn learnt from their forefathers. This can be seen in the use of terms as surnames in English speaking countries as crafts were honed and passed down through the family, eventually coming to identify that family within a community. Although there is an element of art to craft, it is more the artifice and role of the artisan than an abstract ideology that ‘high’ art often evokes. In many cases the term craft is used to delineate between abstract objet d’art and useful objects made beautiful.

Craft, however, does have other connotations. In some cases craft is interpreted as arcane knowledge, given to a person from outside the known realm. In this way craft can be seen to be related to talent, but it is also no coincidence that both free masonry and wicca are referred to as ‘the craft’. It is the ability to personally bend and control

seemingly immutable elements to your own whim that unifies these ideas of craft. This otherworldliness continues with the idea of craftiness; an undesirable trait by which it is your own will being crafted by a gifted individual. However craft is defined, be it physical, arcane or interpersonal, someone gifted in a craft, a craftsman, is almost always placed in high esteem by his surrounding community, his works are given high value, be that monetary, cultural or otherwise, and the works of a craftsman often set the standards for other craftsmen to emulate or develop.

So what is the relevance of craft to canon? In his article, Weber revisits the perception of the classical music canon recognising that the centrality of the canon to the study of musicology poses problems for an objective attitude to the discipline:

Musicologists have been slow to recognise the problem of canon because it is so embedded in their assumptions about music. (Weber: 2001, p.337)

Weber recognises three phases of canon formation, scholarly, pedagogical and performance. The scholarly canon, first to form, contained pieces most regularly studied and discussed and is perceived as an academic canon. The pedagogical canon then formed with the advent of sacred polyphony and is most linked to teaching and composition, often characterised by students emulating a generation before. Finally developed the performing canon, the canon with which we are most acquainted. This, as the name suggests, grew out of organised repertories of older works performed in a public context.

Using this tripartite framework Weber further identifies four aspects vital to the formation of these canons; Repertory, Criticism, Ideology and Craft. Repertory would seem the most obvious, but remains the least studied. Pieces can only enter the performing canon if they are performed, but to study the relationship between repertories and canon through programmes, collections, anthologies and other records of performances is not the usual path of musicology. Criticism is seen as a major aspect of canon formation in literature as well as music, but not necessarily in the same way. For a musical piece to enter the canon there must be some discourse surrounding the piece. From its place as repertoire this does not mean only reviews of performances, but also critiques, histories, oral and written opinions. The surrounding culture, both academic and popular, must give the piece authority through criticism. Ideology is the most outward looking principle of canon, and the canon both contains and reflects the

ideology of the surrounding culture and time. The canon can act as an ideological force within culture, whilst also being dependent on the culture’s ideology for a work to obtain an authoritative position.

Craft then is central to the formation of canon. Whether scholarly, pedagogical or performing, the pieces chosen for study, emulation or performance have to be deemed good enough to bother with and as we saw earlier, craft is the ability to create something deemed to be of worth or value. Craft links the canon of creators with the canon of works in an intricate, almost symbiotic, relationship. The canon is as much dependent on the reputation of canonical composer as craftsmen as their role of craftsmen relies on the level of craftsmanship evident in their work.

Manx Music and Arts and Crafts Although not the composers of the music, or even necessarily musicians, the role of Dr. John Clague, W.H. Gill and his brother J.F. Gill as craftsmen and specialists within the collection and dissemination of Manx traditional music can not be underestimated. During what Maddrell (2006) describes as the first wave of cultural revival on the Isle of Man from 1880 to 1920, the brother’s Gill and Dr John Clague embarked on a mission to rescue the fast disappearing folk music and song of the Isle of Man. At the same time antiquarian and polymath A.W. Moore embarked on a similar mission with the help of T.E. Brown, Manx national poet and champion of the newly coded Anglo Manx dialect. It is not surprising that these missions were begun in the climate of an overall arts and crafts movement, similar to that in England and America. The folk crafts of the simpler 18th and 19th century, pre industrial revolution, were being usurped by the urban and modern, and in particular on the Isle of Man, the English, and so it was the responsibility of the social elite to preserve and promote these crafts. Other members of this elite included Sophia Morrison, a supporter of Manx Gaelic, folklorist, collector and collaborator with A.W. Moore in the Dictionary of the Anglo Manx Dialect and also Archibald Knox, famed Manx artist who was to incorporate elements of the Manx landscape and abundant Manx carved crosses into designs for Liberty, London, alongside other artists of the Arts and Crafts movement such as William Morris. This social elite comes together in the Magazine Mannin edited by Morrison, with designs and articles by Knox, as well as regular contributions from Moore, the Gills, Clague and Brown on a number of Manx cultural subjects.

W.H. Gill himself, states in Mannin (1916) that the missions of Moore and his own efforts differed distinctly and were not in competition. Moore was more concerned with the

antiquarian, historical and linguistic elements of the culture and was aspiring to create a source for the library, the scholar and the academic. Gill and Clague, however, were more concerned with re‐popularising the pieces for the masses. As he put it ‘one book for the learned few, the other for the unsophisticated many’. Clague and Gill’s efforts were to form a tripartite project; first to collect and preserve from the original sources, then to arrange and disseminate to the general population and finally to develop by creating new pieces with new words within a similar idiom. The result of the first wave can be seen in the Clague and Gill manuscript collections held at the Manx National Heritage Archive, the second in the form of Manx National Songs and Manx National Music, and the third in the three volumes of Songs of my Fatherland.

Whilst there was only a limited amount of craftsmanship necessary in the first stage of the Clague and Gill project; some musical knowledge was necessary to note the simple tunes down, and it was their role as specialists within the community as doctor and Deemster (a judge within the Manx judiciary system) that allowed them to collect as much as they did, it was the undoubted craftsmanship of W.H. Gill as an arranger as well as the craft involved in creating new lyrics to the newly constructed Manx National Songs that brought these pieces back to the fore in the ‘little Manx nation’. Although this may seem in many ways unfair on A.W. Moore after his sterling efforts, it cannot be denied that merely collecting and reproducing the material did not re‐popularise Manx folk song in the same way that crafting them into something relevant to the contemporary and more urban Manx and Anglo Manx population did. The music of Manx National Songs and Manx National Music went on to permeate every aspect of Manx culture for many, many years to come. The tunes were often used by local musicians for traditional Manx dances, the songs were used in schools and in many cases still are, and to a vast majority of the population and particularly the Diaspora Manx National Songs IS Manx music. One piece from Manx National Songs, ‘Ellan Vannin’, became so synonymous with the Manx identity that is very nearly became the recognised Manx national Anthem, only to be pipped to the post by a third adaptation of ‘Mylecharaine’, an amalgamation of versions from Manx National Songs and Manx National Music arranged and with lyrics by none other than W.H. Gill.

It is worth noting that Songs of My Fatherland with music by W.H. Gill and words by either Gill himself or Cushag, Josephine Kermode, a Manx poet who chose to use the Manx national flower as a pseudonym, did not enjoy the same success. In fact it is now little known and the pieces are rarely performed, if ever. It would appear that in the case

of folk and national music too much craftsmanship can be a bad thing and places the music in a different realm. Gill’s role as a craftsman in a Manx context went on to gain him substantial notoriety as a collector and arranger of folk song, with many of the Manx pieces as arranged by him being published as part of a folk song and also choral series by Boosey, along with Sol‐fa versions. He also went on to collect music in England, from Horsham, West Sussex and Clapham in London, eventually culminating in the publication of Songs of the British Folk in 1917. Whilst the ability to craft a folk music certainly aids the tradition itself, it seemingly does not do the craftsman any harm either.

Crafting the Canon Due to the socio political changes on the Isle of Man in the late sixties and early seventies, once again Manx identity was brought to the fore. An influx of English and Irish workers benefiting from the new tax laws, the death of the last officially recognised Manx native speaker, Ned Maddrell, in 1974 and similar revivals in England and Ireland, inspired a number of musicians, political activists and linguists to come together to revive the folk crafts of the Isle of Man (Woolley: 2002). Central to this was the development of a session of folk musicians who met weekly at ‘the Central’ in Peel. One of their number, an English folk and Jazz musician, Colin Jerry, and a few others went in search of real Manx folk music. Manx National Songs and Manx National Music were still prominent and a number of other sources including Songs of My Fatherland and Mona Douglas’ Manx Folk Songs were available, but this was not deemed truly authentic due to the additional crafted elements of arrangement. After some searching, Jerry and his cohorts stumbled upon the original collection of Dr. John Clague in the Manx museum library.

This source of music was to form the centre of a revival and canon forming moment that is still informing Manx traditional music today. Jerry, as a musician and teacher, took on the task of making this music accessible to everyone by rationalising the pieces, in the main transposing them for common folk instruments (penny whistle, accordion, guitar, harp) and transcribing them to create Kiaull yn Theay or the famed ‘Red and Yellow books’. First published in 1978, Kiaull yn Theay was an attempt by Jerry to recreate the music as collected by Clague and Gill. The tunes were repatriated by Jerry into the correct context, not that of the parlour and concert hall but of the folk session, with no accompaniment or harmony. Jerry attempted to re‐marry the texts in Gaelic collected by A.W. Moore with tunes collected by Clague and Gill and to translate lyrics found only in English. These pieces from the Clague and Gill collections are accompanied by pieces

collected by Douglas, Moore and occasional pieces recently composed by the new folk musicians. The Victorian songs and settings are not included. English lyrics are in the main, excluded.

Jerry’s role as a musical craftsman, both as a musician, music teacher, Manx speaker and instrument maker once again placed him in the role of specialist within the musical community to make decisions over what is and is not included within the representative canon of Manx traditional music. His role as craftsman counteracted his status of ‘comeover’ and allowed him to enter the canon forming community despite his recent immigration from London. Once again, and not coincidentally, the music revival was part of a wider revival of the traditional and Celtic arts and crafts. Manx dance underwent a resurgence, with a return to the original manuscripts collected by Mona Douglas. The Manx Gaelic also experienced a resurgence in interest, both on and off the island, some would say to the detriment of Anglo Manx. Most visible was the revival of Yn Chruinnaght inter‐Celtic festival in 1978, which was a revival of the more Eisteddfod style Yn Chruinnaght Ashoonagh Vannin of the 1920s. Borne out of Ellynyn ny Gael or ‘Arts of the Gaels’ movement, Yn Chruinnaght provided a format for all forms of Manx craft from stone carving, to sculpture, pottery, music, dance and recitation for both adults and children.

Craft in Manx Music Today The role of craft in the modern Manx musical tradition is a double edged sword. As Bohlman recognises in Folk Music of the Western World (1988) the individual folk musician can have a substantial impact on a tradition and this is very true on the Isle of Man. Composers and arrangers of Manx material are placed paramount within the tradition and their craftsmanship and role as a specialist allows them to decide what is and is not played; what is hot and what is not! The craft of composing in a Manx idiom, as Gill attempted, keeps the tradition vital and is recognised as such in the Arrane son Mannin (a song for Mann) and Yn Chruinnaght competitions. Those most well respected and influential of the modern Manx musicians are actively encouraged to nurture their craft, more often than not obtaining well recognised qualifications in general musicianship. This is not to say that musicians do not play the old and the less interesting material both out of responsibility to the tradition and more often than not because the dancers demand it, but the craftsmen create the music that enters the canon and have a role in popularising certain pieces placing them closer to the centre. It is also their role as musical craftsmen that earn these musicians the opportunity to perform Manx music to a non‐Manx audience, further strengthening the

Manx canon in an attempt to authentically ‘represent’ whilst still impressing a foreign audience.

This is not to say, however, that Manx traditional music is not prone to the same problems of any other canon. Just as in the literary and classical music canons that are bound irretrievably to Shakespeare and Beethoven at their centre, the Manx canon is very much bound to the Clague and Gill collections as their yardstick. Mona Douglas, a great collector of music and dance throughout the 20th century is often accused of inventing and creating her material, and yet this is not often heard of Clague and Gill. Pieces from off island are well recognised as foreign, and are kept on the periphery of Manx music, or go to create an overlapping inter‐Celtic canon, yet pieces from the Clague and Gill collection now known to be of non‐Manx origin are not ejected. If Clague and Gill deemed them Manx, they must be.

Becoming more evident at this time is the mythology surrounding their informants both created by Clague and Gill and the later Manx musical community. Clague and Gill purposefully travelled to collect from rural, peasant, uneducated elderly Manx men and women, and rejected any ‘composed material’. How uneducated, rural or even Manx these people were is questionable, but as a result any music contemporary or even earlier that shows any hint of craftsmanship is therefore rejected as non‐folk. This myth suits the modern musical community as it adds authenticity to their music in the face of the post‐Riverdance popularity and dominance of Irish and Scottish music, but is limiting their resources. There does exist a number of private music manuscript books belonging to jobbing musicians, predominantly from rural areas, in particular the north of the island, dating from the early to mid nineteenth century. As working notebooks these contain the music actually played by the people Clague and Gill were keen to meet, but as they contain not only non‐Manx material, but some classical excerpts and are written in western art notation, they are not deemed Manx as they are at odds with the ideology of the Clague/Gill centred canon. It is the evident status of the authors of these books as craftsmen that excludes them from the Manx canon. Yet they contain original material, often for dancing, that is inescapably Manx and as close to traditional as we will ever find. This rejection of the craftsman as musician within the traditional context can be seen in the work carried out on these manuscripts to date; a tendency to treat the manuscripts as classical or sacred manuscripts by musicologists and west gallery specialists. It is hoped that a continuation of the work begun in this paper, with special

attention given to these manuscripts, will go some way to redress the balance and give the Manx canon an opportunity to swell.

Conclusions It can be seen then that the role of craft within a traditional music canon is dependent on the contemporary values of the canon forming community and thus the ideology creating and created by the canon. On the Isle of Man the earliest canon, still to be fully examined, of the early 19th century was repertoire driven with craft sitting squarely within the realm of the composer, often non‐Manx and classically trained, for entry into the repertory and the musician for performance and therefore popularisation. The later nineteenth century saw craft fall within the realm of the collector and arranger, the values of the canon reflecting the wider arts and crafts movement, and in the latter twentieth century craft fell once again to the musician, the folk artist in music, to re‐authenticate the music according to the values and ideology of a wider Celtic revival. Finally it is the repertory driven canon that we now see influenced by the accomplished amateur musicians who become craftsmen in their field, often influenced by professionals from the wider folk community, and therefore reflecting the modern ideology of folk music as a form of popular music.

The role of craft in a traditional music canon is very similar to that outlined by Weber in his article, but with a difference in size of surrounding community and the ideologies relating to the community’s dominant culture causes craft to negotiate a differing set of values. Craft is not in composition, but in crafting the tradition itself to best suit the wider international ethos experienced by the community. Unlike Weber’s canon formation, canon is not dependent on large institutions or published criticism, but is dependent on the individual, the craftsman therefore can be seen to be the mediator between the centre and the boundary of the small group canon, as posited by Bohlman. Craft is not only a value of the traditional canon, but a defining, driving force instrumental in its formation and development.