Navigating the Dulcimer

A few years ago, having finally figured out what was making that gorgeous drone on some of my favourite recordings, I bought a dulcimer. Now, technically the instrument I own is called an Appalachian dulcimer. Despite the name, I was quite surprised to discover that the instrument's origins lie in the United States, though its antecedents can be traced back to Europe. Moreover, there's a vast tradition of American dulcimer music with which I'm entirely unfamiliar. Why? One, I'm not big on old-timey country and bluegrass, and two, the favourite recordings mentioned earlier all emanate from the UK. So, dear Americans, forgive me for believing the dulcimer was a British instrument used to play British folk music—and for continuing to write and perform broadly within that tradition. (And if you think that's blasphemy, I present one of your own: synth-pop dulcimer diva Cyndi Lauper. Who knew?)

The dulcimer is one of the easiest stringed instruments to play; it's also one of the hardest to find, unless you live in rural Appalachia. I live in a big city with big-city music stores that sell banjos, mandolins and ukuleles galore. But only one had a dulcimer, a Romanian knock-off that a bit of research told me was best avoided. I soon realized that to get what I really wanted (a pickup, 6 1/2 and 13 1/2 frets, and a well-made instrument), a field trip either to Tennessee or a local builder was in order. Fortunately, Hugh Hunter of Midnight Special Instruments was a two-hour bus ride away in the town of Rockwood, and I was all set. (I think he's since moved, and I'm not sure where. Still in Southern Ontario, I believe.)

Here are a few basics to start. Unlike most stringed instruments, the dulcimer is played in your lap. Also unusual: the lowest string is farthest from you. Strings are typically strummed or plucked with a pick, though some players are finger-pickers. In its standard construction—as many variants exist as folks who want customized instruments—the dulcimer has four strings: a bass string, middle string and two melody strings. There are many possible tunings, some of which are listed here. I use DAdd, low to high, primarily because as far as I can tell it's the tuning used in those haunting British folk songs that got me hooked in the first place.

The two melody strings are tuned in unison and are so close together you can't fret them separately anyway, unless you're the Django Reinhardt of the dulcimer. As a result, you need a considerable wingspan in terms of finger movement, because 95% of your melody is being played on that one pair of strings. Fortunately, my stubby bass-player fingers and their extended reach have helped in that regard. (Which is nice for a change; they're a liability on the mandolin and sometimes the guitar, too.)

The dulcimer's frets are arranged such that they create a diatonic scale. This means two things. First, it's nearly impossible to play a wrong note. You'll pretty much get a pleasing tone no matter where you put your fingers. Second, certain notes in the chromatic scale are simply unavailable. I'll use an example to illustrate:

• First four frets on the D string of a guitar: D#, E, F, F#
• First four frets on the D string of a dulcimer: E, F#, G, A

So, if you want to play (let's say) an F on a dulcimer, you need to re-tune. Simple as that. Using a capo won't give you more or different notes, but it does make things quite interesting in other ways. When I bought my dulcimer Hugh had no capos in stock, so I ordered one from a guy in Ohio named Ron Ewing.

As you can see, these handsome devices would never be mistaken for guitar capos. A dulcimer neck is far thicker than that of a guitar, so a guitar capo wouldn't fit at all.

Once you capo a dulcimer, all bets are off. Because the instrument is diatonic, putting a capo on it changes not only the key but the scale itself. When I first started out, I couldn't figure out how those UK folk-rockers were getting brooding minor keys out of their dulcimers, as mine seemed resolutely stuck in D major. Well, slap a capo on the first fret and presto: you're now in E minor or E-aeolian. If the song you're playing is in C minor (like "Witchwood" below), just keep your capo on and tune down two whole steps. As you might guess, capoing further up the fretboard produces new scales (and modes) every time. I haven't yet figured out what they are, but thankfully Steven K. Smith has.

I'd be remiss if I didn't point you in the direction of those haunting British folk songs, so here goes. Some feature electric dulcimer, which only adds to the fun:

• Strawbs, "Witchwood," "Benedictus" (the solo isn't a guitar but a dulcimer through a fuzz box!)
• Fairport Convention, "Genesis Hall," "Flowers of the Forest"
• Pentangle, "A Maid That's Deep in Love"
• Steeleye Span, "One Night as I Lay on My Bed," "The Lark in the Morning"

Cleanup Time

My album is now about three-quarters complete, and before I move on to the last trio of songs I'm cleaning up some earlier recordings. In some cases this simply involves remixing; in others, I'm revisiting songs I recorded as far as two years back and redoing parts that didn't pass muster. I've also added a few embellishments to one song that needed a bit more fleshing out.

Make no mistake: recording an album by yourself, though great fun, is hard work. One of those "simple" remixes took 19 tries and much cutting and pasting of drums and percussion before it finally came together. All the while, I'm slowly gaining basic proficiency on the new instruments in my palette—dulcimer, violin and recorder.

Adventures in New Instruments

The latest addition to the family is this mountain dulcimer, lovingly handcrafted by Hugh Hunter of Rockwood, Ontario.

Mine is a bit darker than the model pictured here (the wood is cedar instead of spruce) and has a couple of extra sound holes as well. It looks great, feels great and sounds great, and because it's diatonically tuned you almost can't play a wrong note. In fact, I learned my first song by accident in less than five minutes: The Rolling Stones' "2000 Man." If you capo a dulcimer—and you need a specialized capo; guitar capos won't fit—the tuning and mode change. At Capo 1, for instance, you suddenly find yourself in a minor key. Standard tuning for the four strings is DAdd, the latter two being an identical "melody" pair. It's a haunting, mellifluous instrument and I'm blessed to be a proud owner.

Meanwhile, the fine folks at The Twelfth Fret were setting up and repairing my Nonno's Strad-O-Lin (mandolin), and they did a fabulous job. It's now eminently playable: I just recorded with it today, and even capoing at the 4th fret didn't throw off the intonation one bit. The repairman estimated the instrument to be of 1950s vintage, and though the tuning pegs are still rather stiff, it sings like a bell.

And finally, remember the violin I bought last October? I made my first recording with it today, and with help, my playing is approaching musicality. By "help" I mean that through the marvel of multitrack recording, I stitched together a nice-sounding accompaniment by playing only a few notes at a time, all on the same string. Huzzah! The fact that the song was in B certainly didn't make things easier, I'll tell you that. As you may know, learning the violin can be tough sledding. Tone, pitch, timbre and to a lesser extent timing are all hit-or-miss propositions for me at this point, and to get a decent take I have to nail all four simultaneously. Sometimes, I can do it ... for a few notes at a time.

Oh, and I've recently posted some sample music on my web site: studio recordings, an open stage appearance, plus a live-off-the-floor living room session recorded a few weeks ago. Come have a listen!

Fiddler on the Goof

You'll recall my quasi-bluegrass tune, "Year of No Tomorrow," in which I quoted the opening bars of Coltrane's A Love Supreme on my virtual keyboard fiddle. Upon further reflection I loved the part, but the tonal qualities of the patch were wanting. In short, it sounded like a cheesy keyboard fiddle. I tried EQ'ing and remixing, but no avail. So, guess who's bought himself a fiddle for his birthday? Yup. Mine is the blue one:

It's a Stentor student violin, it cost me under $200, and no, I don't know how to play it. Yet. But I'm confident I will eventually. You see, many birthdays ago, circa Grade 8, I played violin in school, and I recall that after the initial screechy period I was able to produce some quite musical sounds. As for how I'll learn, I won't be entirely on my own because these days, all the violin lessons a beginner could want are available online for free (hooray for YouTube; pity the out-of-work violin teachers).

Sure, I could have hauled in a professional to play the part, but I'd rather do it myself. It's a bit of a goof, a lark, a fun challenge. My neighbours will hate me, but hey, a practice mute should mollify them. And I don't envision my fiddle as a one-shot deal: I have my eyes on a dulcimer next, and armed with a dulcimer and  fiddle I'm seeing some lovely British folk music in my future.

Does Humour Belong in Music?

Sorry, Frank, had to add the "u." It's a Canadian thing, you understand.

I just finished a song that's turned out to be a country/bluegrass number, complete with two tracks of down-home knee slappin' to drive the rhythm along. Despite the setting the lyrics are hardly standard country fare, and one line in particular begged for something a bit special on the instrumental side:

And this nagging voice says I've taken the wrong train
Yet your whistle cuts through like sheets of sound by John Coltrane

I've got a keyboard fiddle sawing away on the right side of the mix, and I thought it'd be so cool (and funny) if my virtual fiddle could somehow quote a bar of Coltrane over that last syllable, ideally something recognizable and not too far out. To my utter delight, the opening phrase of "Acknowledgement" from 'Trane's masterwork A Love Supreme fit like a glove, transposed into the right key, of course.

So my virtual fiddle and I answer Zappa with an exuberant "yes," and this is one of the many reasons I love making music. A love supreme indeed, y'all. Yee-haw!

Oh, and I used my Nonno's mandolin on this track. It's a Strad-O-Lin, 50 years old at least, and sounds terrific but I'll need to take it in for some serious intonation work. I could only get one chord in tune at a time, so had to record the part on six different tracks and stitch it together.

In other news, I'm saving up for this dulcimer. I tried it out at the store a few days ago and it sounds as gorgeous as it looks, all dronish and shimmering. Apparently the dulcimer is prominent in certain streams of American country music, but I'm more familiar with it in the context of British folk (e.g., Steeleye Span), and that's how I intend to use it. Not that I know how to play it, but that hasn't stopped me yet...