Multi-tasking, or, How to Balance a Pendulum Clock

I’ll spend my 15 minute tea-break writing this – it won’t be a long read! Thinking about all the things I’ve got to do, the metaphor came into my mind of a pendulum. It’s supposed to swing in two dimensions – an arc, not an ellipse. But my mind is full of so many different ideas that it swings all over the place.

I’ve got a book to finish – but that’s when I have my Researcher hat on. I try not to think about it when I’m busy being a librarian.

I’m also promoting an international congress for my professional association – something else I do in my ‘spare’ time. So this morning, before I got started with the day-job, I took a photo of the mascot and dashed off a tweet.

Back to the day-job. I know what I intend to do this morning, and I open the websites and spreadsheets that I need to use. But incoming emails are inevitably a distraction – aren’t they always? Especially when we’re offered a book that relates to the topic of my book. It’s being offered to the library, not me personally, but as a researcher, oh how I’m bursting to see that book. Quick – check the catalogue, dash off an email …. Phew! The book will be ours. Then there’s mention of another conference … relevant? Or a distraction? No, I haven’t got time at the moment. I haven’t got time to attend, not whilst I have a book to finish!

But I’d better get back to the task in hand.

So I look on my list, look in the catalogue, look in commercial catalogues and at composers’ own websites, and check to see if they’re on Twitter.

The task in hand involves looking up works by the women composers who I’ve got on a long list, and seeing if they’ve composed anything for under-represented instruments. So, music for tuba, bagpipes, accordion, bassoon, double bass … because my goal at the moment is to provide plenty of good music by women composers, for our students to explore and incorporate into their repertoire. But if there’s not much for their instrument, that will be problematical. It’s my job to find it! (Well, not for every individual student, I hasten to add, but I do want to ensure there’s material in the library for them to find – and, more crucially, perform.)

(Oh, Twitter! says my overactive mind. Has anyone responded to the library recently? to the professional association’s conference site? Have our sponsors posted anything interesting?)

I metaphorically slap my own wrist and go back to the list of women composers. The woman composer I was looking up doesn’t seem to have a Twitter account anyway, so there won’t be anything informative about her there. The trouble is, it’s all very well finding out what they’ve composed. From my point of view as a music librarian, it’s whether we can buy the performance materials! Yes, some of it could be hired for a performance, but that’s not within my remit. What I want is scores on library shelves, accurately catalogued.

I Googled, “Balancing a pendulum”. I was being metaphorical, but of course Google took me literally, and told me how to balance a clock. Which doesn’t really help much! However, I do know that removing distractions is a good way to aid concentration. I’ll post this, close a few windows, and do some cataloguing to give my eyes a rest from spreadsheets.

Report of Conference: Reading and Book Circulation, 1600-1800

(Libraries, Lives and Legacies Festival of Research), University of Stirling, 17-18 April 2023

I wrote a report for the conference that I attended in April this year, thanks to an LIHG Bursary. This report has just been published in the latest LIHG Newsletter for Summer 2023 , Series 3, no. 53 (ISSN 1744-3180), pp.7-10.

I thought I’d share excerpts of the report here, too.

The conference resonated strongly with the research topic of my 2017-18 AHRC Networking Grant, Claimed from Stationers’ Hall, when we were investigating surviving music in the British Legal Deposit libraries of the Georgian era.  Although my network was interested in books rather than music, I had immersed myself in the Georgian borrowing records of St Andrews University Library, and had taken a particular interest in the music borrowing habits of women of that era, so the opportunity to hear more about what people borrowed apart from music was irresistible. 

On the subject of borrowing records, the opening introduction to the ‘Books and Borrowing 1750-1830 project’ and demonstration of the digital resource by Katie Halsey, Matthew Sangster, Kit Baston, and Maxine Branagh-Miscampbell was fascinating, offering so much data for investigation.

The following panel on Reading Practices in Non-Institutional Spaces was just as interesting, with Tim Pye’s ‘Had, Lent; Returned: Borrowing from the Country House Library’, along with Abigail Williams speaking about non-elite book use in rural settings, and Melanie Bigold’s paper about women’s book legacies. Whilst my own interest has been in formal library borrowing, ‘my’ borrowers took music away for their leisure-time enjoyment, and these papers served as a reminder that musicians were probably just as likely to have borrowed music outwith the more regulated library environment. Similarly, the concept of the Sammelband is very familiar to me – that was how libraries kept their legal deposit music. Sam Bailey invented a useful new verb, ‘Sammelbanding’, during the course of their talk on ‘The Reading and Circulation of Erotic Books in Coffee House Libraries’ – a topic far removed from my own research.

Kelsey Jackson Williams’ hands-on session with books from the Leighton Library, in an exhibition curated by Jacqueline Kennard, was the perfect after-lunch session, offering the chance both to stretch one’s legs on the way there, and to inspect some rare selections from the Leighton.

Parallel sessions meant tough choices, but I opted to hear Angela Esterhammer talk about John Galt’s various publishing ventures – an intriguing history – followed by Cleo O’Callaghan Yeoman’s ‘Still my ardent sensibility led me back to novels’.  (I reflected that St Andrews’ first music cataloguer, Miss Elizabeth Lambert, had read a wide variety of books, and whilst her reading included travel accounts, religious books, and books on botany and conchology, she certainly wasn’t averse to reading a good novel, too.)  Next came Amy Solomon talking about Anne Lister’s considerable book collection at Shibden Hall, and how she had made an inherited collection her own, as well as keeping commonplace books, diaries, and reading journals. I regret having missed seeing the films about her diaries, and the two more recent ‘Gentleman Jack’ series on the television.

The first keynote paper was given by Deidre Lynch, on ‘The Social Lives of Scraps: Shearing, Sharing, Scavenging, Gleaning’.  I am sure I was not the only delegate pondering as to whether any of my own ‘scraps’ would survive to intrigue future readers, but more importantly, Deidre’s paper reminded us that proper ‘books’ are only a small proportion of the vast amount of printed material still surviving, often against the odds and far from their original context. 

On the second day, the opening plenary roundtable chaired by Jill Dye addressed borrowers’ records across Scotland, and I heard from several people with whom I was already acquainted, three of them through my own AHRC Networking project. 

We heard about the library of Innerpeffray, the National Library of Scotland, and Edinburgh, Glasgow and St Andrews’ University Libraries. I was interested to hear about the bigger picture, so that I could place my own special interests into the wider context.

For the third panel, I opted for the panel on Readers, Libraries and Loss.  Jessica Purdy gave a fascinating talk on ‘Libraries of Lost Books?’, speaking about chained church libraries, and the fact that their tight security and still pristine condition suggest that the books might as well have been ‘lost’ as far as most of the local residents were concerned.  Elise Watson, too, made us reflect upon just how many publications of Catholic devotional material had been published, even if they were so ephemeral that there are now ‘”Black Holes” of Ephemeral Catholic Print.’

For the fourth panel, I attended the panel on ‘Education’, hearing Maxine Branagh-Miscampbell talking about the Grindlay bequest and ‘Childhood Reading Practices at the Royal High School, Edinburgh’.  The Grindlay bequest was valued sufficiently that it was all added to stock, even though some material was never going to interest young or teenage boys.  Mary Fairclough gave an interesting talk on ‘Barbauld’s An Address to the Deity and Reading Aloud’.  I have recently encountered Victorian publishers appropriating evangelical hymns for magic lantern shows, but had not considered that poetry might also be ‘trimmed down’ and repurposed.

Duncan Frost’s paper did have a musical subject: ‘Bird Books: Advertising, Consumption and Readers of Songbird Training Manuals’.  Who would have thought that so many books were written about catching and training songbirds to sing in captivity?!  The most intriguing aspect of this genre of books was in fact that, despite many pages dedicated to all aspects of caring for and training your bird, there was significantly little information about the kind of tunes that you might want to teach it.

The second and closing keynote lecture was delivered by Andrew Pettegree, on ‘The Universal Short Title Catalogue: Big Data and its Perils’.  Professor Pettegree was at pains to underline not only what the USTC had achieved, but also its shortcomings, or rather, what it was not.  We were also reminded of some aspects that I have encountered in my own work: that books in libraries were not the only copies of these titles; they would have existed plentifully outside libraries, and so might other books which we can now only trace by, for example, publisher’s catalogues and advertisements. Moreover, library catalogues can conceal different editions, or show duplicate entries, depending on minor differences in cataloguing approaches.

Since my own networking grant, I have had to reflect upon the benefits of the work, and the impact the research has had.  One of the outcomes that I identified then, was that library history research created effectively a ‘third space’ where librarians and academic scholars – and those like myself, straddling both library and research worlds – could meet and beneficially share our insights and learning.  I realise that at this recent conference I had experienced exactly the same kind of meeting of minds again. Similarities of approach and a common interest in library and book history meant that I felt I had an underlying understanding enabling me to benefit from their fresh insights.

I am grateful to the Library and Information History Group for enabling me to attend this wonderful and thought-provoking conference.  Besides having such a rich array of papers to listen to, I certainly did benefit from the opportunities to talk to other delegates.  It was a treat to be able to take two days out of normal routine in such a beautiful setting, giving plenty of food for thought for the future.

Image: Image by G.C. from Pixabay

Hooray! My contributed chapter had minimum edits …

Now, this doesn’t concern my own book. Oh no! This was a chapter I wrote as a guest contribution for an essay collection.

To understand my jubilation fully, you have to know that my last contributed chapter (different publisher, different editor) had HUNDREDS of edits requested. So today, I opened an email relating to another contributed chapter, with some trepidation.

But all was well – the most minimal changes were required. Blink, and you’d miss them. Ten minutes later, they were done ✔️

I expect the finished product will appear well before my own monograph – which is good, because on the face of it, I’ve published very little recently. Book-writing is all-consuming when you can’t do it every day!

A Milestone

Early 20th century postcard. Caption, "I have arrived at the conclusion". Man in a motor car driving into a ditch.

This morning I read through Chapter 7 of my monograph again, tweaked it minutely, then opened a new document: the conclusion! (And 33 days to go until my submission deadline. The work ahead of me might just exceed that.)

Up to that point, I really hadn’t much idea what I would write there. A summary of all that I’ve written about, obviously. I was once told, in connection with public speaking or lecturing, that what you have to do is:-

  • Tell them what you’re going to tell them
  • Tell them it
  • Tell them what you’ve told them

It sounds glib, but it’s actually a pretty good reminder of how to structure a piece of writing.

Today, since this is my second monograph, I added an extra bit at the beginning. My first book was about song-collecting, but it wasn’t the end of the story. The present book has continued from that point – albeit with a slightly different slant …

I still have a few things more that I want to read, before revisiting the last chapter. And then comes the editing. Getting rid of a few words. Finishing the introduction. Checking the formating of the endnotes, and deciding what goes in the bibliography. However, seeing that “Conclusion” and a few hundred words beneath it already?

Priceless!

Countdowns!

You know the story of the shoemaker and the elves? He goes to bed, exhausted, and wakes to find the little elves have done all his outstanding work? Oh, I wish!

Technically, my book is meant to be finished by the end of July. I’ve written quite a bit of the last chapter, but it goes without saying that that’s not the end of the process!

  • Writing the conclusion;
  • Tidying the introduction;
  • Checking the whole thing – for content, and also against the style guide;
  • Converting footnotes to endnotes;
  • Sorting the bibliography…

I’m also handling the comms for an international congress – it begins on 31 July.

Of course, there’s also the day-job to be done! And domesticated things don’t just stop. Garden hedges grow regardless of everything. Aargh!

And I have a whole magazine issue to proofread ASAP. (This task was accepted on my behalf – literally nothing to do with me!)

Daily Countdown

Now, the book deadline has been engraved on my brain for a long time. I’ve also known the congress date quite a long time. But believe it or not, it’s only just dawned on me that both dates coincide, and that therefore 38 days’ countdown for one thing would be 38 days for the other. Strange how the realisation suddenly makes it all the more stressful! All I can do is keep doing what I can. A colleague asked me the other day, what were my plans for this summer … ?

‘Finish a book’, I whispered. One way or another!

Alas, I don’t feel indomitable today. More like, a bit hopeless, faced with the mountain in front of me.

On Either Side of the Divide: Classical v Trad

Fence with road on one side.

Just a quick reflection, today.

Working on my final chapter, I encountered a composer about whom I knew comparatively little. However, when I discovered he was friendly with one of Scotland’s significant 20th century poets; that the two of them had corresponded extensively; and that the composer set lyrics written by the poet, I thought I ought to know more about both men. I consulted the Oxford Dictionary of Biography. On Amazon, I ordered a poem considered one of the poet’s greatest works. At work, I borrowed a score and a textbook. I also sent out an email, basically asking (in more scholarly terms), ‘is this composer any good?’ (And ‘would you put his songs in your music case, if you were filling it with your favourite repertoire?’)

The outcome was very interesting. I was directed to a singing tutor and a student who had worked on this repertoire. Both sang the composer’s praises – indeed they were enthusiastically generous in their praise.

I also had a response from a traditional music expert: their assessment was quite the reverse. Indeed, it reminded me of what happens when I introduce the songs of Marjory Kennedy Fraser to traditional music students. Looks mingling caution, boredom and blank incomprehension, steal over faces that were only minutes before quite animated and interested.

I’m a musicologist from the classical music tradition, working with supposedly ‘traditional’ folk song collections. Well, commercial collections of ‘traditional’ national songs. I really am stuck in the middle! It’s an interesting place to be.

Why study history?

There are lots of arguments on social media about why we should, or should not study history. I freely admit – I think we should! I really liked a blogpost by someone whom I follow on twitter, George Harris (@HistoryLecturer):-

What is the Point of Studying History?

History Lecturer, Wednesday, 5 June 2013

I’ll be adding this link to my Zotero bibliography, ready to fire at anyone who dares suggest that studying history is not worthwhile!!!

The Gentle Art of Bibliography: a Footnote

Title slide for my talk, The Gentle Art of Bibliography. No image, just an abstracct grey background.

My talk for the Scottish Graduate School of Arts and Humanities was incredibly well-attended. It was lovely to be able to talk about one of my specialisms to people who were genuinely interested. My thanks to you for attending, if you were one of those people! At least one individual had just started their bibliography, so hopefully I was able to share some useful tips.

I’ve uploaded my PowerPoint and text to my Conservatoire Pure account – our institutional repository – please click here.

If anyone tried to sign up, but experienced a problem getting into the meeting, please contact me via the SGSAH Summer School organisers.

Thank you Karen for a fantastic talk

😊
An attendee

It was such an excellent and helpful session!

Another attendee

Chat GPT (part 3) I asked it to define ‘Scottish’ music!

I think you know my main thoughts about what counts as ‘Scottish’ – I posted about it only last week. However, having just played ‘Highland Cathedral’ as a crowd-pleaser at church this morning, I wondered what Chat GPT thought about that kind of thing. I always feel a bit guilty in two ways: purists quite rightly say it’s not by a Scottish composer, but there I am playing it all the same – whilst people who just like the music don’t want to feel they’re being put down by being ‘educated’ about the fact that it isn’t actually Scottish at all.

Here was my question:- “I’d like to write about the different ways a piece of music can be considered Scottish”

Chat Open AI responded accordingly. This is the link to their answer:- Scottish music explained.

It’s really not a bad response. But of course, I forgot to ask about ‘Highland Cathedral’, which as we all know is not remotely Scottish in origin – it’s just called a Scottish piece and is often played on bagpipes! So I tried again.

My next question:- “Why do some people say that the musical composition, ‘Highland Cathedral’, is not really Scottish?”

I can’t share the same link again, so I’ll show you what Chat Open AI actually said:-

The musical composition “Highland Cathedral” is often associated with Scotland due to its name and the use of bagpipes, which are strongly linked to Scottish music and culture. However, it is true that some people argue that “Highland Cathedral” is not genuinely Scottish in origin.

The composition was actually created by two German musicians, Ulrich Roever and Michael Korb, in the 1980s. It gained popularity as a bagpipe tune and has been performed by various Scottish pipe bands and military bands. The melody and arrangement evoke a sense of Scottish musical traditions and are often heard at Scottish-themed events, including Highland games and military ceremonies.

Critics argue that because the composers are German and the composition was not created within the traditional Scottish musical framework, it does not qualify as an authentic Scottish piece. They contend that “Highland Cathedral” lacks the historical and cultural context typically associated with traditional Scottish music, which often has deep roots in Scottish folklore and history.

However, it’s important to note that the concept of musical authenticity can be subjective, and the definition of what constitutes “Scottish” music may vary among individuals. While “Highland Cathedral” may not have originated from traditional Scottish sources, it has undoubtedly become strongly associated with Scottish culture and is beloved by many as a representation of Scottish musical identity.

Ultimately, whether or not “Highland Cathedral” is considered genuinely Scottish is a matter of personal interpretation and cultural context.

At this point, I’m quite impressed! My essential argument, that Scottishness is a subjective concept, is right there. And it even named the composers – not bad, Chat Open AI!

Another researcher threw out a challenge: Why do some people say that the musical composition “Farewell to Stromness”, is not really Scottish? Now, this is a classical piece by Peter Maxwell Davies. (I played it as a voluntary before the service at church, as it happened!) I was curious to see what Chat Open AI would say. It didn’t exactly muddle things, but there was really no need to talk about traditional music, because this is not traditional!

The musical composition “Farewell to Stromness” is a piece written by the British composer Peter Maxwell Davies. It is part of a larger work called “The Yellow Cake Revue,” which Davies composed in 1980 as a protest against uranium mining in Orkney, Scotland.

While “Farewell to Stromness” was inspired by the Scottish town of Stromness and its local music traditions, some people argue that it is not a traditional Scottish composition. The main reason for this view is that the piece does not adhere to the typical structure and style of Scottish folk music. Traditional Scottish music often features specific rhythmic patterns, melodic ornaments, and instrumental arrangements that are characteristic of the genre.

“Farewell to Stromness,” on the other hand, is a contemporary classical composition that incorporates elements of folk music. It is written for solo piano and has a more modern harmonic language and structure. The piece is often performed by classical pianists and is appreciated for its lyrical and reflective qualities.

While it may not fit the mold of traditional Scottish music, “Farewell to Stromness” is still associated with Scotland due to its thematic connection to the town of Stromness. It is important to note that music, like any art form, evolves and takes on new forms over time. The composition represents a creative interpretation and expression of the composer’s feelings and ideas, which is a common practice in music composition.

Well, I argued back just a little: This music is a classical piece, not a traditional folk tune. It is not a traditional tune from any country!

Chat GPT is so polite in its debates, as you can see:-

You are correct, “Farewell to Stromness” is a classical composition and not a traditional folk tune from any country. I apologize if my previous response was not clear on that point.

As I mentioned earlier, the piece was written by the British composer Peter Maxwell Davies as part of a larger work called “The Yellow Cake Revue.” It was composed in a contemporary classical style and is typically performed by classical pianists.

While the composition was inspired by the town of Stromness in Scotland, it does not adhere to the traditional structures and characteristics of Scottish folk music. It is a unique creation by the composer, and its style falls within the realm of contemporary classical music rather than traditional folk music.

Thank you for pointing out the distinction, and I apologize for any confusion caused by my previous response.

I don’t know if my correction would be incorporated into a subsequent answer, though, since Chat GPT is experimental and based on a snapshot of the internet at a certain point in time. Still, it’s an interesting thing to play with!

Image by Nikolaus Bader from Pixabay

Define ‘Scottish’ without a Scotch Snap (human asking human!)

OK. We’re thinking about ‘classical’ music. 🎶

Art music, if you like.

If you’re a serious classical composer, wanting to convey your Scottish identity – but also aspiring to avoid clichés – how do you do it?

  • No ‘Scotch snaps’
  • No ‘modes’, flat sevenths, or gapped scales
  • No Scottish song or fiddle melodies
  • No titles derived from Robert Burns or Walter Scott’s literary output
  • Oh, okay, you can have a clarsach, fiddle, whistle or pipes if you absolutely insist!

Why am I asking you this riddle?

I read in an old newspaper that a certain composer had truly captured ‘Scottishness’ in his music. I didn’t know the piece they were referring to. Did he evoke Scotland in his soundscape? How?

We say that Sibelius’s music evokes Finland. To be truthful, many of us have probably just accepted that it’s a ‘Finnish sound’, making us think of steep valleys, tall pines, and vast echoing lakes. Fair enough. We’ve heard something, and learnt to associate it with a set of visual images.

So what would evoke Scotland? Can we look at some Romantic-era tone-poems and point to elements that sound Scottish, or could only be Scottish?

What are your thoughts about this 🤔