Editor Eberhard Bort Hamish Henderson ...

Anent Hamish Henderson – Essays, Poems, Interviews

‘Scotland’s living tradition would have been very much poorer today were it not for Hamish Henderson (1919-2002) and his integration of folklore, literature, philosophy and politics.’ Margaret Bennett ‘A great favourite of mine was Hamish Henderson, he’s in the School of Scottish Studies in Edinburgh, he’s a professor. Hamish, I met him many years ago, he’s a grand chap to know – very, very clever chap Hamish, right enough.’ Daisy Chapman

Cover painting by Timothy Neat

www.gracenotepublications.co.uk

ISBN 978-1-907676-65-9

£15

Anent Hamish Henderson Essays • Poems • Interviews

Eberhard Bort

This is the fourth collection relating to the life and work of Hamish Henderson edited by Eberhard ‘Paddy’ Bort, who works in the Academy of Government at the University of Edinburgh and chairs Edinburgh Folk Club and its annual Carrying Stream Festival in honour and celebration of Hamish Henderson. The other volumes are Borne on the Carrying Stream: The Legacy of Hamish Henderson (2010), ‘Tis Sixty Years Since: The 1951 Edinburgh People’s Festival Ceilidh and the Scottish Folk Revival (2011) and At Hame wi’ Freedom: Essays on Hamish Henderson and the Scottish Folk Revival (2012) – all published by Grace Note Publications.

Anent Hamish Henderson

brings together more than twenty contributions ranging from fond memory to critical inquiry anent the late Hamish Henderson, Scotland’s leading folklorist of the twentieth century, remarkable poet and songwriter, and political activist.

Editor

Eberhard Bort

Hamish Henderson and Martyn Bennett

Hamish Henderson and Martyn Bennett: Conversations and Collaborations Margaret Bennett

M

ost folk musicians would agree that compiling a set-list is an important consideration for any gig. There are two basic points to pin down: How should we open, and how should we close? (We can fill in the rest.) There may be no folk club in Scotland where the night hasn’t ended with Hamish Henderson’s the ‘Freedom Come-All-Ye’. It may not have been what the 1997 Celtic Connections late-night Festival Club expected, however, as most of the punters had just been to a sell-out gig at the Fruitmarket. The ‘traddies’ may have given it a miss (is that folk music?) but the audience (or clubbers) had been wildly dancing for hours to the music of Martyn Bennett. Rumour had it that ‘the boy himself’ was headed to the Festival Club, but few may have anticipated that he would arrive on stage with a tall, grandfather-like figure. If the late-nighters had hoped for a second helping of the Fruitmarket, they may have been surprised. A quiet, unassuming young man stood there, smallpipes at the ready, and a broad smile that reflected admiration and affection. The audience had to hush to hear what was being said, as Martyn brought Hamish centre-stage, while blowing up the bellows and saying something about ‘the real man of the night’. On cue, with characteristic closed fist in gear, Hamish began: ‘Roch the wind in the clear day’s dawnin....’ At the end of the song, to a resounding applause, both left the stage, smiling and waving to the audience. BBC Scotland captured the gig for television, and in March 1997 telecast an hour-long programme compiled of edits, with clips of musicians who appeared at the festival. As time passes, the programme has become a record of the evolution of Celtic Connections, as well as one of the few pieces that illuminate the friendship between Hamish Henderson and Martyn Bennett. Television aside, it had been their own decision to appear

171

172

Margaret Bennett together at the Festival Club, as this was (and still is) the place where performers and audiences unwind. That session, may, however, have given the TV producer the idea of an interview the following day. More of that anon, but before we switch on the TV, a brief background sketch may be useful: In 1995 Martyn recorded his first album, simply titled ‘Martyn Bennett’, which included one of Hamish’s poems. Despite all tracks being rooted in Scottish and Irish tradition, the CD did not exactly fit any given category, and it soon became apparent that record-shops found it difficult to classify. Before long, it settled into the World Music section, and young musicians on both sides of the Atlantic began to create their own versions of ‘anything goes’. (Some even sent Martyn cassette tapes.) This was one response from Martyn: The unfortunate term ‘World Music’ has given rise to many so-called alchemists who, I believe, do not actually understand the music they borrow, and unfortunately they tend to tout their works as being authentic, with no upbringing in any tradition whatsoever.1 Though the CD sleeve notes gave details about the voices (sampled or recorded) there was no room to explain the music. To some listeners and friends, it seemed clear that Martyn’s choice of samples was not based on a liking for the musical extracts, or even for the performers. Sometimes it was quite the reverse, being more a statement of his response to how Scots at home and abroad regard Scottish music. He deliberately reused a Harry Lauder sample for his third CD, and later rewrote the ‘Martyn Bennett’ CD notes (published online), hoping that more detail might make the point. There could hardly have been more of a contrast between tracks 5 and 7: Deoch an Dorus: A title of a song by 1930s Scottish Megastar, Sir Harry Lauder. Although I can’t say I particularly ‘like’ what Lauder did, he was as big in his day as Michael Jackson - and he was Scottish. I did a remix of this track on ‘Hardland‘ called ‘Harry’s in Heaven’. Up yours, Sir Harry!

1

Martyn Bennett, 1996, now on

Hamish Henderson and Martyn Bennett

Colin Ross and Martyn Bennett / Hamish Henderson and Martyn Bennett at Celtic Connections, 1997 / Martyn Bennett reciting ‘Floret Silva Undique’ by Hamish Henderson

173

174

Margaret Bennett Floret Silva Undique [All around the flowers are in bloom]: This lovely poem was written by Hamish Henderson. This exceptionally gifted man is, for many, the most important figure of the twentieth century in terms of Scottish culture. He has collected a wealth of Scottish folklore and written volumes on its heritage. He is also a great poet and songsmith, and has written such great songs as the ‘Freedom Come-All-Ye’ and ‘John MacLean’s March’. The poem I chose to arrange is concerned with procreation and the spring season, the same ‘spring’ that I hope we all see with traditional music in Scotland. No matter what he wrote, it was evident that the music world was divided. Time and time again he could be heard to say, ‘Folk just don’t get it!’ Though the album was top of the USA worldmusic chart for nearly a year, at home, some older ‘folkies’ who had heard him play in his early teens seemed disappointed he hadn’t lived up to expectations. As Brian McNeill later suggested, however, the best way to understand his music, or find out what he was about, would be to talk to Martyn about his views on Scottish music: I first met Martyn in the early nineties at the Tønder festival in Denmark … He wanted to know what made me tick, musically, and he proceeded to grill me. I don’t remember much about my replies, but I do remember knowing – immediately – that my answers mattered, that I had to be honest with this wise old man of half my age. … We agreed that the old fogeys weren’t the problem, it was the young ones you had to watch out for … The next time I met him was at Danny Kyle’s funeral in Paisley. By then he was a recognised force … I congratulated him on the CDs and told him that I couldn’t understand all of his music. He didn’t even pause to think. ‘Could I react to it?’ When I said I could, he assured me that was more important, even if my reaction was negative.2 2

In 2005, when Brian was Director of Scottish Music at the RSAMD, he included this anecdote in a speech at the graduation ceremony, when a posthumous Doctrate of Music was conferred on Martyn. A fuller version has been published in It’s Not the Time You Have…: Notes and Memories of Music Making with Martyn Bennett. (2006): Grace Note Publications.

Hamish Henderson and Martyn Bennett The same year as the CD was released (1995), BBC Schools Broadcasting was recording a new series for students and teachers of ‘Standard Grade Music’, still a relatively new subject on the Scottish education curriculum. Several producers were already familiar with Martyn’s work as, from the age of fifteen, he had collaborated on a variety of media productions. The aim of this new series was to trace music in Scotland through the centuries, and Martyn’s music would take the time-line to the end of the twentieth century. The last in the series of six 19-minute programmes, his programme title was ‘Sampled Tradition’. The remit was to select one of his own compositions and explain why, and how, it had been composed, giving as much detail as possible while demonstrating at each stage.3 The piece he chose was ‘Floret Silva Undique’, which, by that time, had already been released. As the entire programme had to fit the 19-minute slot, the basics are distilled to give the essentials and there is no time to go into the sort of detail that truly gives the inside story. And so, at the risk of giving a background to the background, it may interest Hamish’s readers to discover how this poet got involved with a maverick young musician. Though their first meeting was at a Traditional Music and Song Association (TMSA) festival in the late 1970s, the friendship between Hamish and Martyn began in 1984. Martyn was thirteen and we had moved to Edinburgh when I was appointed lecturer at the School of Scottish Studies. He had played at several TMSA festivals, and showed considerable promise on bagpipes, while at school he studied classical violin, viola and piano and all areas of musical theory. Often on his way home from school he would stop in at the School of Scottish Studies, to ‘see the techy guys’ (the late Fred Kent, ex-BBC sound-recordist, and Neil MacQueen, who was up to speed with the world of audio-technology), or the photographer and photographic archivist (the late Ian MacKenzie, who shared his love of mountains). He got to know others too, and it was in that setting that Hamish invited both of us to our first Edinburgh poetry-reading. It was to be one of many for, in the eighties and nineties, Edinburgh seemed abuzz with poets and folk musicians. Some gatherings were to celebrate ‘milestone birthdays’, which seemed to be regular events – in 3

Thanks to Dr Jonathan Kemp of the Music Department of St Andrews University, who advises students to study this piece, it is now available on Youtube:

175

176

Margaret Bennett 1984 William Montgomerie turned 80 and George Bruce 75; the following year Norman McCaig was 75; 1986 marked Sorley MacLean’s 75th birthday; and in 1989 Hamish turned 70. Thanks to Joy Hendry and fellow-poet and editor, Raymond Ross, from the age of fourteen Martyn spent a significant time with elder statesmen of the poetry world.4 Both Joy and Raymond, as well as Hamish, regularly invited him to contribute music to these gatherings. Thus he got to know William Montgomerie (1904– 1994), George Bruce (1909 – 2002), Norman McCaig (1910–1996), Sorley Maclean (1911–1996), Iain Crichton Smith (1928–1998), Edwin Morgan (1920–2010) and Duncan Glen (1938–2008), not to mention the ‘younger generation’, Liz Lochhead, Aonghas Dubh MacNeacail, George Gunn, and others. The circle became wider as prose writers were also part of the scene, adding to inspiration and discussion – Owen Dudley Edwards, Alan Spence, Angus Calder and John MacInnes were among the regulars. As Aonghas Dubh remarked one night in the Queen’s Hall, ‘If the roof were to cave in, God forbid, it’ll completely wipe out Scotland’s twentieth-century literary scene, not to mention a few singers and musicians, including Flora MacNeil and a very young musician, Martyn Bennett.’5 It was at a poetry reading that Martyn first heard Hamish recite ‘Floret Silva Undique’. He was about fourteen, and though he made no mention of it, something must have impressed him, as he spent time browsing through poetry books. I have a vivid recollection of the sound of youthful, wild enthusiasm, 4

Some became his friends, and he got to know them in a way that few might imagine: for example, he liked to visit William and Norah Montgomerie, as he was also drawn to their work with children’s rhymes and stories, as well as Norah’s drawings. When William died, and Norah was in a care-home, he would bring her recordings, or (as the staff told me) he would arrive with his fiddle or whistle, and play by Norah’s bedside. He visited Sorley and Rene in Skye, returning home with amusing anecdotes about conversations (told in a Sorley voice). In 1998, Martyn was clearly affected by the news that Iain Crichton Smith had been taken to hospital in Oban, so visited him there not long before Iain passed away. Flora talks of conversations with Martyn, as do Raymond, Joy, George, and Liz.

5 These gatherings also date Martyn’s association with Sorley MacLean, Ian Crichton Smith and many of the younger poets. It also marks the beginning of a long friendship between Flora and Martyn, which later inspired one of the final pieces he composed, ‘Grit’, with samples of Flora’s voice.

Hamish Henderson and Martyn Bennett bursting though the kitchen door: ‘I’ve found it! Listen to this! This is fantastic!’ Whatever he had been looking for had been anybody’s guess, though it was not unusual for Martyn to be so preoccupied. Book in hand he began, ‘Floret silva undique …’ and reading on in measured pace, with intonation echoing Hamish’s voice. I have no recollection of ensuing discussion, and perhaps there was none. The reading had given pleasure to both of us, and that, as far as I understood, was the point of searching for the poem. Largely due to these poetry-readings and to Hamish, Martyn developed a great love of the spoken word, and, perhaps not surprisingly, several of his compositions were inspired by the voices of poets. And so to the TV documentary that aimed to explain to young musicians how, and why, a composer uses sampled sound-recordings. There is no script, and Martyn speaks directly to the camera, conversational style: Folk music is important. All music is important, but especially folk music because it’s indigenous. It’s not affected by anything artificial, it’s all completely natural. In the kind of thing that I write (in this idiom), I tend to use a cross-over: ethnic musics and indigenous cultures then, for example, hip-hop… The composition I’ve chosen has two melodies that I’ve written for a friend of mine, Hamish Henderson, who’s a poet. The piece was written after hearing his poem, ‘Floret Silva Undique’, meaning, more or less, ‘all around the flora is in bloom’. Basically it’s about springtime in Edinburgh, with everything coming alive in the Meadows, right next to where Hamish lived.... The piece has three musical sections, played on flute, fiddle and pipes, reflecting Hamish’s life. What I do is, I listen to how the piece goes, Hamish recites the first verse [21 seconds]: Floret Silva Undique The lily, the rose, the rose I lay. Floret silva undique Sweet on the air till dark of day. The bonniest pair ye iver seen Play chasie on the Meedies green. Floret silva undique The Lily, the rose, the rose I lay.

177

178

Margaret Bennett I improvise while listening and add ‘voices’, so, we have the introduction, the ambient section on the flute, setting the atmosphere, with occasional sounds of bells … a gong… a tabla … voices that don’t sound Scottish, like a Muslim chant – Hamish spent time in North Africa. Then over this I recite: Floret Silva Undique The lily, the rose, the rose I lay. Floret silva undique Sweet on the air till dark of day. The bonniest pair ye iver seen Play chasie on the Meedies green. Floret silva undique The Lily, the rose, the rose I lay. Then the next section is a fiddle tune, which has an Irish feel to it, because Hamish spent a lot of time in Ireland. It goes like this [he plays the tune, explaining]: The rhythm is fairly laid-back, it’s got a swing to it... So that establishes the rhythm [of the piece and also the pace of the recitation]. And I use a break-beat and add that to establish a beat6, then come the percussion instruments the tabla, which suits …and I wanted a ‘sparkly’ sound, so we have tiny cymbals, and then I’ve added a gong, (for occasional, distant, dull sound). So that’s the second section and [he demonstrates]. At that point I bring in the poem, the first verse of Floret Silva Undique … 16 bars reciting the poem: I come out of that to the middle section of Hamish’s poem, where I whisper the poem… [and here there are elaborate descriptions in musical terms that weave in and out of the whispered verse] Flora is the queen of lusty may The Lily, the rose, the rose I lay. 6

As this programme was directed at senior school pupils, he did not explain that he used a break beat so that their generation, and his generation, would listen to Hamish’s poem, or Sheila Stewart, and the real voices of Scottish tradition. ‘This might be the only way they’ll ever hear it,’ and, as he once said to Sheila, ‘I want people all over the world to hear you singing – they’re not going to come to a wee folk festival.’

Hamish Henderson and Martyn Bennett Floret silva undique Sweet on the air till dark of day. The bonniest pair ye iver seen Play chasie on the Meedies green. Floret silva undique The Lily, the rose, the rose I lay. Then, because Hamish is quite a lad, I’m going to shout the poem, as loud as I can [as if I’m in the Meadows, where all this is going on]. Tell-tale leaves on the elm-tree bole; Reekie’s oot for a sabbath stroll. Sma’ back pipes and they dance a spring. Over the grave all creatures sing. The sun gangs doon under yon hill Jenny and Jake are at it still. Reekie, tell me my true love’s name. Floret silva undique. I’ll change the mood and bring in sounds we haven’t heard, some pipe-drums, a base line in fifths – I like fifths…. The poem is spoken over the pipes. And a new section for one final verse of the poem, and there you have it. Floret silva undique The lily, the rose, the rose I lay. Floret silva undique The rocker, the ring and the gowans gay Floret silva undique Sweet on the air till dark of day Flora is queen of lusty May, The lily, the rose, the rose I lay. As Martyn put it, ‘And there you have it.’ Listening again to the original track, which opens with Hamish’s solo voice (recorded, not sampled), may not, however, prove that he collaborated with Martyn. Might that verse not have been recorded at a poetry reading and used with permission? Anyone searching for the evidence will easily find it, as the verse is not exactly from the original poem but is an adaptation of Hamish’s 70-line poem.

179

180

Margaret Bennett In Martyn’s piece, we hear four 8-line verses, but anyone who presumes that it was simply a matter of lifting those out of the original will have missed the point that, as poet and musician, they worked closely together. They discussed the text at length, producing a seamless re-creation that pleased both artists.7 The following is the sequence on the CD: Verse 1, recited by Hamish: line(s) 1, 2, 11, 48, 13, 14, 19, 2 Verse 2, recited quietly by Martyn: same as verse 1 Verse 3, recited by Martyn: line(s) 69, 46, 29, 48, 65, 14, 64, 2 Verse 4: shouted by Martyn: line(s), 3, 4, 49, 50, 51, 52, 60, 68 Two years later, the Celtic Connections Festival Club was a memorable gig for both of them. We return now to the interview that was televised the following morning. The meeting place was the bar, which was entirely empty, apart from Hamish and Martyn who were seated by a table with a couple of glasses of whisky – the absence of people suggested it was a television set for an impromptu conversation about the previous night: the Fruitmarket gig and the Festival Club. Verbatim transcriptions convey their discussion, though the printed page can only give a pale reflection of the dynamics of the interaction between Hamish and Martyn. The camera turns to Martyn who is responding to a question about the Fruitmarket gig: We have to be mindful that, with all this technology we could lose the culture, and the things that are organic … Celtic Connections has fused these things together so that, yes, we can do this, but let’s not forget what happened by the fireside. Martyn picks up his small-pipes and turns to Hamish, and, facing each other, they smile and begin to play and sing the ‘Freedom Come-All-Ye’. The song fades (BBC style) and while the tune continues and Hamish speaks: ‘The Freedom Come-All-Ye 7

See Hamish Henderson: Collected Poems and Songs, edited by Raymond Ross, (Curly Snake Publishing, Edinburgh), 2000, pp. 140-141. For this paper (as Martyn used to say) I had to ‘listen and listen and spend a lot of time working it out for myself!’ I had not, however, fully appreciated how much had gone into these discussions between poet and musician.

Hamish Henderson and Martyn Bennett expresses that human beings everywhere should be united …’ The camera picks up the expression between them, at ease in each other’s company, reflecting that this is no studio interview, but the spontaneous conversation between long-time friends and an opportunity to speak to a wider audience. Hamish continues: It seems to me that, from the times of the early People’s Festival, just after the war, when the Labour Movement got together, they decided that, whatever the high heid yins decided, with respect to the big festivals, we were going to create something else, the People’s Festival Ceilidh. And I think you can trace one line from the early period to right on to now [Celtic Connections]. If I give it a Scottish flavour, it’s because Scotland has a long history in it, right from the 18th century, through Robert Burns, to the present. As he finishes his statement the camera shifts to Martyn, and Hamish picks up his whisky glass. A quiet sip, and he nods, inviting Martyn’s response: This is where it came from… You have to know where music comes from, before you can develop it. Yes, you can do a lot with the expensive technology we have today, but then that’s not what happened by the fireside. We mustn’t forget that. There is a lot of discussion going on about classical, jazz and rock. It’s not all about hip-hop, or Islamic dub or [Hamish nods again while taking another sip, but soon has to suppress a cough that catches him by surprise. Martyn realises what happens and breaks into a smile, completing his statement over Hamish’s attempt to recover]: It’s not about all that beat stuff, it’s about – coughing and spluttering in your whisky! They both burst out laughing, like old friends. The camera cuts to the previous night’s session to the point where Martyn had been asked to play. On stage in front of a packed house, he brings Hamish up to centre stage, the small pipes strike up, and Hamish sings the ‘Freedom Come-All-Ye’. When the song ends, the audience is ecstatic, which is exactly what Martyn had hoped might happen. ‘Let’s not forget where it all came from…’

181

182

Margaret Bennett

Margaret Bennett at Edinburgh Folk Club (photo: Allan McMillan)

Eberhard ‘Paddy’ Bort at Edinburgh Folk Club (photo: Allan McMillan)