popped into Sean Ryan and Pat Conneeley’s little Sunday afternoon session recently for a listen and was invited up to give a set (one of those invitiations you simultaneously crave/dread). Took a punt on a set of jigs I’d had in my head but hadn’t played before, however all went well enough and to much applause. Anyway, the local wag and story teller comes over later to compliment on the playing and says, ‘sure it was lovely, like listening to two butterflies dancing’.
On the one hand I’m thinking that’s probably the nicest whistling compliment I’ve had; on the other hand I’m thinking so we weren’t playing anywhere close to the same settings then!
My worst compliment was from a lady waiting to be served in the chip shop, who had heard me playing whistle and willow-flute in the park while she was walking her dog.
“It sounds very difficult,” she said.
“Am I that bad?” I asked her.
It might have been a day when I was practicing a difficult tune, or a day when they wind was gusting in all directions. It knocked a hole in my confidence anyway, even when she said she enjoyed it.
The other one is when I’ve been asked to play and I’ve played something traditional and they ask “Did you make that one up?”
Wife after I finished playing the latest tune I learned, “wow…you are getting better…I am not cringing nearly as much when you first started to learn whistle”.
That and I have noticed that the local wildlife is starting to visit again…so I guess it is getting better.
The most memorable compliments have been when other musicians have asked me to perform with them.
OTOH, nothing makes me feel better about my playing then when I see people moving in time with what I’m playing
I was berated once in a slow session (at a certain week-long summer workshop) for starting a Bothy Band tune! That was memorable as well. The broader point was that listening to older, more traditional players is important - and it was a good point to make.
On a warm summer day with all the doors and windows open I was playing along with some tunes on the Amazing Slow Downer. I finished and stepped out the front door to read awhile on the front porch and I was surprised by an ovation from my neighbors and their friends who were sitting on their front porch. (Our houses are only about 20 feet away from each other) “We didn’t know you could play a tin whistle like that,” they said. Needless to say, they didn’t hear all the mistakes I hear while I’m playing so I felt pretty good. I went inside, grabbed the whistle and gave them an impromptu demonstration.
Mike
I was on a trip once, and got a cabin in a small campground for the evening. After settling down for the evening I pulled out my whistle and played a few slower tunes as a way of winding down the day.
The next morning I heard a number of fellow campers at breakfast discussing their attempts to find the “flute thingy” they’d heard. By the time they’d wandered over by the cabins I was done, and they apparently searched for quite a while.
I mentioned it was me, and they thanked me for the music.
That’s the best, I think…when you play for yourself and other people are pleasantly surprised at the gift of music.
Best:
When a fellow musician said, “O, O, O, play this song with me.” And they got totally bummed when I didn’t have a flute that covered the range for the key the song was in.
Worst:
“How long you been playing?”
I think sometimes the best compliment is when you walk into a group of really good players, pull out your whistle, and join in on the chunes. And afterwards they say … nothing. As if it were the most natural thing in the world for you to be playing with them. Maybe a few smiles in your direction, or a friendly bit of craic.
Subtle compliments can be the most satisfying.
Worst compliment: “Wow, that sounds just like Lord of the Rings! Makes me think of Hobbits!”
OK, this was a few years ago when the LOTR movies were big. And cheers to Alan Doherty and Joanie Madden, whose fine whistling actually graces the soundtrack. But, you know …
We live in a townhouse community and houses are very close.
Worst: A few years ago my wife shut the front door so the sound wouldn’t drift to the neighbors.
Best: I play virtually every night and my neighbors (music professors and professional musicians) can’t help but hear the music because of the way the houses and windows are situated. They say they like my music. But the best was that their nine year old daughter told them “I’m glad we live next door to someone who plays the flute.”
I go to my favorite Bed and Breakfast, relax and play my whistle because there is usually no other guests. I’d just sit outside on the hill and play. In July I went back again and there was a small group of ladies there also. The owner asked if I would play the whistle while they had breakfast.
I actually got a ,“More, More,” the other night when I played a tune for a group sitting around a camp fire. But ‘bless him, it was me or that bleedin’ digerdoo again.
I was amazed that so many people were there and so very few had any tunes or even a song to sing.
Worst comment? Of late it’s probably been something along the lines of, “That whistle is very loud on the top notes,” which I take to mean, “That thing is piercing me to the very core and if by chance you should fail to hit the right note I’m going to kill you,”
Best: There was a visiting priest at Mass last week. For one reason or another, the rest of the folk group bailed on us. This left my wife (singing) and me (guitar and singing) and before Mass, some meditative songs on my crystal flute. After Mass, the visiting priest, a missionary, who was interested in music, asked a lot of questions. When I said we lost a member of our folk group, he asked if we would hire a new member. I said, “No, we’ll pray for a new member.” He thought we were paid musicians.
Worst, from neighbors: “We heard you playing, but we thought it was the ice cream truck!”
Very Worst, near a knitting shop where my wife was looking for yarn. I was playing outside, and a woman walked in, saying, "Do you know there’s someone playing outside on the street? [Implied: Aren’t you going to stop him?]
Best: “That was beautiful.” --A woman walking out of a restaurant where I was playing a Gen Bb on the patio.
