Seeing the latest Scottish Book Trust writing project on favourite treasures got me thinking about what I would consider a treasure. I am not really a possessions type person. I am grateful for the good health I have, my greatest possession. Also grateful for my wonderful family and their good health too. And contentment I guess, I am a happy, content and positive person.
However, if I were to miss something, if for example, there was a fire and I could only grab one thing, what would I take? My fiddle is the one thing apart from photos that would be irreplaceable. My fiddle was handed down to me when my dad passed away. All I knew was that I wanted to keep this beautiful instrument that had been festering away in my parent's loft. I remember my dad bringing it down at Hogmanays past and the sad refrain of Oh Danny Boy. The sound of a fiddle has always had a haunting feeling to me. Not the harsh reels and strathspeys, but the slow airs and waltzes especially stir my emotions.
So the fiddle was almost sold along with dad's trumpet. But I begged, pleaded, offered to pay for it and eventually it was mine. One stipulation was that it was a good fiddle and I must learn to play it.
Having absolutely no musical background (was told at school that I was tone deaf), this was no mean feat. I embarked on one to one tutoring before joining classes at the Tolbooth Theatre, Stirling where I play alongside other like minded individuals. The fiddle is a difficult instrument to master as you have to learn the right way to hold the instrument, how to bow, and playing with no frets for positioning. I have been learning for years and still don't have great technique, getting better though. The other thing about the fiddle is that it is really difficult to play whilst nervous, the bow needs a relaxed hand and arm, so public performance is still something I dread!!
I did know that it was a good fiddle but didn't know it's history as such. Once I looked into it I discovered that my dad had inherited it from an uncle and that it was made in 1864 by a well renowned Edinburgh fiddle maker and musician. Many of Scottish and Irish fiddles have been passed down to family members throughout the years and many stories accompany them. This has prompted the question in me 'how did my great uncle come by the fiddle?.' Did he commission it? Did he inherit it? Did he win it in a bet? So now I plan to trace my family history to find out. This is something I have always wanted to do, but have put it off since I know both my parents are of Irish descent and that a lot of the Irish records are missing, somewhat patchy. However with all the resources available now through Scotland's People, Ancestry.com and records held with registrars, I can hopefully get a little further in my quest and trace not only my family but my fiddle's history.
However, if I were to miss something, if for example, there was a fire and I could only grab one thing, what would I take? My fiddle is the one thing apart from photos that would be irreplaceable. My fiddle was handed down to me when my dad passed away. All I knew was that I wanted to keep this beautiful instrument that had been festering away in my parent's loft. I remember my dad bringing it down at Hogmanays past and the sad refrain of Oh Danny Boy. The sound of a fiddle has always had a haunting feeling to me. Not the harsh reels and strathspeys, but the slow airs and waltzes especially stir my emotions.
So the fiddle was almost sold along with dad's trumpet. But I begged, pleaded, offered to pay for it and eventually it was mine. One stipulation was that it was a good fiddle and I must learn to play it.
Having absolutely no musical background (was told at school that I was tone deaf), this was no mean feat. I embarked on one to one tutoring before joining classes at the Tolbooth Theatre, Stirling where I play alongside other like minded individuals. The fiddle is a difficult instrument to master as you have to learn the right way to hold the instrument, how to bow, and playing with no frets for positioning. I have been learning for years and still don't have great technique, getting better though. The other thing about the fiddle is that it is really difficult to play whilst nervous, the bow needs a relaxed hand and arm, so public performance is still something I dread!!
I did know that it was a good fiddle but didn't know it's history as such. Once I looked into it I discovered that my dad had inherited it from an uncle and that it was made in 1864 by a well renowned Edinburgh fiddle maker and musician. Many of Scottish and Irish fiddles have been passed down to family members throughout the years and many stories accompany them. This has prompted the question in me 'how did my great uncle come by the fiddle?.' Did he commission it? Did he inherit it? Did he win it in a bet? So now I plan to trace my family history to find out. This is something I have always wanted to do, but have put it off since I know both my parents are of Irish descent and that a lot of the Irish records are missing, somewhat patchy. However with all the resources available now through Scotland's People, Ancestry.com and records held with registrars, I can hopefully get a little further in my quest and trace not only my family but my fiddle's history.
