Music

Not so long ago among musical instruments the double bass was classed as an ‘endangered species’. Here in Scotland bass players have a great camaraderie -they all seem to know one another and are generally on first name terms.  Members of this friendly coterie are invariably given to helping one another out – the borrowing and lending of instruments, stools, and bows is par for the course.

We have a spare room in our home which can variously function as a playroom, a dining room, or a spare bedroom.  Latterly, we’ve used it as a practice room for music. Although it’s not a big space we can just about squeeze in a group of amateur musicians and their stands, provided they leave their cases outside.  However, the floor space is severely curtailed if extra double basses come to stay.

In the summer months the city of Edinburgh is awash with music festivals – both classical and jazz.  Musicians participating in a series of concerts will often tag a Scottish holiday to the end of their work commitments.  Since they are already in Scotland, why not take advantage of that to go hill-walking in the Highlands, visit distilleries, or even island-hop in the Hebrides?  Their only problem is: What shall I do with my double bass?  Light bulb moment: Of course, I’m sure I can leave it with Andrew Robb!

So perchance, when I answer the doorbell, there is a polite chap on the doorstep, toting a large instrument in its padded case.  I vaguely recognise him as someone my son has stayed with in London when he travelled down for a gig one time but had nowhere to stay for the night.  The polite chap says:  I’m really sorry to trouble you but Andy suggested I might leave my bass with you while I travel up north with my girlfriend. I should be back next week.  Of course I invariably acquiesce- it would be churlish not to, and I’m aware of needing to return the favour. Besides, it’s good to know that Andrew has such nice friends.

If you look at the image featured for this blog, you’ll see what our practice room looked like after I had answered the doorbell to several more of Andy’s nice friends!

Jazz  bassists stand to play pizzicato, and in continental Europe classical double bass players also play standing up, often draped over their instruments.  British players, however  are usually seated on stools. The stool has its own problematic issues . For a start it needs to be taken to the music venue along with the instrument – massively inconvenient on public transport. Secondly, players can’t merely perch anywhere – the stool need to be of suitable height for their frame.  A petite female player will need a smaller stool than a tall, burly man.  Many players also nurse personal preferences – comfort padding, back-rest, easily foldable, etc., especially in their later years.

When our son Andrew started learning aged seven, his stool had to ‘grow’ with him. My  husband James had an ingenious solution: every year he would buy the same cheap tall bar stool from IKEA , bring it home and chop its legs down to Andrew’s height. Over the years this ploy saved us money, but resulted in our kitchen becoming the repository for time expired stools for which we had to find new homes.  Decades on, we continue to come across friends greeting us with a cheery, “Hey, we still have Andrew’s old 4ft stool in our garage!”

Sometime after we were married we lived for a year in Grenoble, France. James who is a keen amateur bassist  joined the local symphony orchestra.  I attended one of their informal afternoon concerts where the bass section was comprised of five Frenchmen who played standing, with James at the end of the line-up seated on his musician’s stool. During the performance the lady beside me pointed to him whispering, “I think it’s commendable that disabled people are being taught these big instruments”!

We are a family of double bass players.  My husband, son, and my son-in-law all play it, so as a non-player myself, I have gleaned a fund of quirky observations about it from the sidelines.

Large and unwieldy, basses spend much of their down-time lying on one side, or propped up in a corner against a wall. To a small child this biggest instrument of the string family parked in the middle of a living room offers endless possibilities for explorative play. They love to propel it along the floor, twang its strings, or try to mount it as if it were a horse…  One kid got the prize for imaginative endeavour by posting a miniature toy car through an ‘f’ hole.

The problem was its extraction.  Initial time-consuming attempts, such as poking the slots with knitting needles, inserting magnets, coat hangers,  or kebab skewers…all proved futile. At long last, three sturdy men manoeuvred the bass aloft, face down, and instructed to shake it gently in a synchronized manner from side to side, like sifting flour, while a brave soul with nimble fingers crouched on the floor beneath then directing operations. Eventually, after much puffing and panting, and not a few expletives, the offending toy was gingerly coaxed out.
Moral: Establish early ground rules!