Rob MacKillop interviewed by Paul Roberts in 2010 - reprinted from banjocrazy.com

[This interview was conducted four years ago. Since then Rob has offered a prolific outpouring of music instruction books and CD's through Mel Bay, and has created many new videos.]

Rob MacKillop from Edinburgh, Scotland has played historical guitars and lutes for many years. He’s also a great blues guitarist and plays other stringed instruments. His current passion is 4 and 5-string banjos. Besides being a consummate player, Rob takes an in-depth scholarly approach to everything he does. Rob has many CD's to his credit and has done extensive music research, teaching and writing about the music that captivates him.

Mel Bay will be publishing six new books by Rob: four ukulele books and two banjo books. Centerstream will publish “The Scottish Guitar,” another of his books. Each of these seven books will include a CD by Rob, who also has a new CD coming out of 17th-century Scottish music on baroque guitar and viol.

Banjo-wise, Rob been exploring all sorts of styles: Early American Classic Banjo, The Development of Fingerstyle Banjo Technique in the 19th Century,  Scottish Tenor Banjo, and his own take on bluegrass. His website www.ClassicBanjoRM.com includes examples of his fine music and a free pdf of 25 tunes culled from Scottish lute manuscripts of the 17th century, which he plays on tenor banjo.

An Early Music specialist with eight CD’s a lifetime of performing, academic essays and numerous other musical accomplishments to his name, Rob is now bringing his amazing musical expertise to the banjo as he seeks out early instruments, repertoire and techniques.

There’s so much more to be said about Rob MacKillop - for instance top composers have written works for him and he composes new works himself. He's a man whose musical depth and dedication is a true inspiration. Having played banjos for a relatively short period of time, Rob's contribution to banjo music is already quite significant and is growing all the time. I hope you enjoy my interview with Rob MacKillop.

Paul Roberts: I'd like to start by finding out about some of your early musical experiences.

Rob MacKillop:

I'm Scottish. I was born in Dundee in 1959. My father was an amateur player of Scottish traditional tunes on the accordion and jazz on the saxophone, while my mother played a little piano. We had parties with the relatives - a large number of them - quite often, where everyone had to do their turn.

What else do you remember about do you remember about these family musical gatherings and how they influenced you?

Well, we didn't have a TV, so we made our own entertainment. I have three sisters, and we would put on 'productions', sing a song, act out our own mini play, usually half improvised. Some of the local kids would join in. Once practiced, we would perform at the family parties, where aunties and uncles, grannies, etc, would congregate, with lots of food, drink and laughter. Well, that's how I remember it. I even worked up a magic trick or two. There was a lot of dancing. Someone would start singing and we'd all stand in a circle clapping rhythmically. We'd then dance around while someone stood in the middle doing a solo dance or song. It was all very amateur and great fun. Later we got a cheap record player with some Jimmy Shand accordion tunes, and that replaced or augmented the singing. It's all getting a bit hazy I have to say. I heard a lot of traditional folk songs and ballads from my mother and aunties. My father was banned from singing as he was so awful, and I have inherited his talent! I really cannot sing a single note in tune. I know what it is meant to be, but my voice just doesn't connect with my ears.

Like any teenager, I went through a period of being embarrassed about it all, and started looking for something more cool. But now I am over 50 years of age, I look back with great affection for my family during that period. I didn't realise it at the time but I was learning very important lessons about heritage, tradition and sharing. I even remember performing 'Camptown Races' on the ukulele, with everyone joining in! It was all so natural that I just cannot bear to be at a 'put on' 'folk' event, with an audience. It is just not the way it is meant to be.

It sounds like you're implying that the folk tradition, as you experienced it, is based on participation, not performance. Do you feel that the conveyance of folk music through performance somehow diminishes it?

The key phrase is 'how I experienced it'. I would never criticize anyone for trying to play music on any level. I can only say in my experience, a concert of what we did in our family could not be reproduced in any way to an audience.

What was your first instrument?

My first instrument was the ukulele, a Gretsch, brought over from San Francisco by my father's father, who had moved to the States 20 years before. I taught myself with the Mel Bay 'Fun With' book, which gave me an early appreciation of a certain aspect of American folk music.

In my teens, I discovered Muddy Waters, Johnny Winter (their 'Hard Again' collaboration is still a favorite) and taught myself blues guitar by playing along with the records, which was great for ear training. In my twenties I discovered Andres Segovia and Bach, and I taught myself classical guitar, later going to the Royal Scottish Academy of Music in Glasgow, where I won a scholarship to study in Venice. While there I had an accident while cutting bread - I chopped off the tip of my middle finger, left hand. I was told I would never play again, so I turned to research. I spent a year studying the Scottish lute repertoire for which some 500 pieces survive from the 17th century, mainly traditional tunes such as 'Flowers of the Forest' and 'Auld Lang Syne'. After a year the feeling returned to my finger. I said goodbye to the classical guitar and swapped it for a lute. I recorded eight CDs of early Scottish music for lute, cittern and 'guittar' (the mis-named English Guitar!). I toured Europe and went as far as Japan. I was given a Churchill Fellowship Award for my studies into Scottish medieval music, and the grant allowed me to study Sufi music in Turkey and Morocco. 9/11 put an end to that trip...

About seven years ago, I gave up performing and touring, and took a job as a Library Assistant at a small university in Edinburgh. I soon got bored with that, and gave a proposal to the Principal for a post of Musician In Residence, which I held for five years. I was in charge of all the musical activities bringing staff and students together - there were no music students, mainly nurses, medical staff, etc - and created several ensembles running from a medieval group to a Jazz Band, and also a traditional music group playing Scots, Irish and American OT tunes. I also taught improvisation concepts to Music Therapy students. Sadly, that job came to an end a short while ago due to 'the economic downturn'. I am now teaching privately.

So where is the banjo in all of this?

Well, 18 months or so ago I gave in to my long-time hankering for a banjo, but my knowledge of the banjo was very limited. In Scotland, we hear Irish tenor playing and Bluegrass, but I wasn't passionate enough about those styles to really get pulled in, which is why I had hesitated for so long. Then I discovered the ning minstrel banjo site (http://minstrelbanjo.ning.com/) and discovered the joy of low tunings and gut strings (although most people play with nylgut). I instinctively felt this was worth looking into, and it resonated strongly with the Scottish lute music I had spent so many years playing. From there, I was invited to the ning classic-banjo site (http://classic-banjo.ning.com/) and within a week I had my first banjo. I became obsessed! A week or two later I uploaded my first video, which went down well with the more experienced players, and through their encouragement I kept going...and haven't stopped.

I presently have over 60 videos and website (www.ClassicBanjoRM.com) devoted to the instrument. I recorded two CDs for editions, which Mel Bay will be releasing later this year or early 2011: The Early American Parlor Banjo, and The Early Irish-American Banjo.

You obviously bring a lot of your classical training and experience to your banjo playing. What is your perspective on this crossover from your lute family instruments to your approach to banjo family instruments?

As for dynamics, just look at the table of terms Converse supplies after the Contents of his Analytical Banjo Method of 1887 - every dynamic possible on the instrument. Remember, this was a dynamic but essentially experimental period in the banjo's history, and players like Converse were pushing the instrument to its limit in the same way the instrument makers like Stewart and Fairbanks were pushing the design of the instrument to extremes.

So, I would say that for the period 1860 to 1890 I already had the technique outlined in the tutors. It was only when I was playing music from 1900 onwards that I started reading a few dissenting comments: that I was too lyrical, the sound I made too mellifluous and nothing like the early banjo recordings, etc. To a certain extent, their protestations were justifiable. The recordings from the early decades of the 20th century are almost devoid of any sentimentality, are vibrant, often quite aggressive, and while I can admire the playing, these are not recordings I listen to often. However, I liked much of the music, and especially enjoyed working through the Emile Grimshaw exercises from his, 'How To Excel On The Banjo' (see www.ClassicBanjoRM/studies). It is thought that much of the aggressive sound of those pioneering recordings is down to the way they were recorded. It is known that such luminaries as Cammeyer played gently privately, but had to belt it out for concerts and recordings. Now, modern recording techniques and concert PA systems have developed somewhat, so I believe I am closer maybe to the way some of these players played to themselves while alone or with a few friends. So, despite the protestations I will continue to play the early 20th century music as I see fit. That said, however, I feel most kinship with the earlier period from 1860 to 1890.

Being a Scot, I have not been raised in the English banjo tradition, or in any of the varieties of American banjo traditions. This could be seen as both a negative and a positive thing. Some people take exception to 'their' music being played differently (I've had a few abusive emails telling me I can't play the banjo at all and am ruining the culture), but thankfully I've had many, many more emails from other players saying I have inspired them to look again at this historical repertoire. But the emails I treasure most are from those who have been inspired by my videos to actually go and buy their first banjo. For my own part, I remain a student of the instrument, learning something about it every day.

It sounds like you're applying a historical approach to the banjo, as you've done with classical music. Do you also compose new works for the banjo? What about improvisation, like I've seen you do on some of your videos, when you're playing blues on the guitar?

I have not composed anything yet for the banjo, but I'm sure it will come. I want the instrument to teach me first of all what it likes to do, rather than impose something on it. As for improvisation, I do sometimes add little changes here and there as I go through a piece, but that is nothing like improvisation in a blues or jazz sense. But maybe that will come too. I've been playing blues guitar for a few decades, so that helps! I can make things up, for sure, and have done so while accompanying students, but I haven't developed it yet.

I have four ukulele books about to be published by Mel Bay, one of which consists of twenty studies for the development of fingerstyle technique on the uke, and most of them were worked out through improvisation. There again, I've played the uke since I was a child. The time will come when I can treat the banjo so freely, and I look forward to that day.

Tell me about your work in the field of music therapy and your take on the role music in the healing arts.

I once found myself unemployed. I hitchhiked to Spain and started busking, sleeping rough, eating what I could. One day in Cordoba, an American started listening to me, and suddenly he burst into tears. I mean he just fell apart completely. I've never seen a man lose it so much. He went away embarrassed. Later that evening he saw me and took me for a drink. He said he had worked in the nuclear industry for 35 years, worked long hours, and had no time for anything else. He was obsessed with his job. His wife insisted they take a holiday to Europe, and they came to Spain. He felt it was a nice country, nice food, pretty women, etc. But then he heard two notes from a guitar, which just punctured his entire world, did something to him which he had never experienced before. Now, I know I'm not THAT good a player, so there was something else going on.

Another story. My dad became a major alcoholic, which affected all our lives. He just couldn't cope with family, work, life. He fell apart completely, became a tramp and died on the streets. It's a tragic tale, but a not uncommon one. Years later his sister told me about something that happened to him when he was 19. He was obsessed with the sax, especially Charlie Parker. He saved some money and flew to the States. After some time doing I don't know what, he decided that he wanted to hear the purest note he could. So, what did he do? He hitchhiked to the Mojave Desert so he could play the sax surrounded only by the sounds of the desert. Some people found him a few days later, starving and exhausted.

Music is immensely powerful. It can tear people apart; it can make them do crazy things. It can also bring them an inner peace, which they can't find through anything else. It can be disturbing. It can be liberating. And it doesn't have to be a Beethoven symphony. It can be just two notes.

There was a time only a year ago when I needed some music therapy. I was sitting on an airplane before take-off. The plane reversed a few feet, and I stopped breathing. I had had no build up of tension. It just happened in a second. Picture the scene: doctor, ambulance, oxygen mask, etc, etc. They saw I wasn't dying of a heart attack, and, once breathing had been restored, they just sent me on my way. When I got home, I grabbed the first instrument at hand, which happened to be a fretless bass. So what did I play? Would you believe C major scale? Yes, over and over - maybe 500 times - up and down, up and down, quite slowly, feeling each note as I went. It brought order to the chaos. The room stopped spinning. It brought calm.

I've been working at a university as Musician In Residence, and one of my jobs was to teach improvisation studies to Music Therapy students. I wasn't there as a Music Therapy teacher, as I know practically nothing of the science and intellectual discipline that goes with it. But I was aware of what an amazing bunch of people the students were - deeply sensitive, and engagingly curious. But as they had all been given a classical music education of the limiting kind, they knew next to nothing about improvisation. So we spent many hours trying to free them from their shackles, to get back to the sound of one note, then two, and so on. I insisted that my classes not lead to an exam. I wanted them to experience but not intellectualize. There are two ways to do that. Either engage in something so simple that the mind has nothing to do, or make it so complex, the mind gets overwhelmed and gives up. We tried both approaches. I'm very pleased to report that almost all the students stayed the course, despite not having to for their exam results. And, of course, I am the one who learned most.

Music is most effective when there is balance. That is, in one sense, balance between melody, harmony and rhythm - the three principle modes of music. But in another sense, it has much to do with the state of the player as well. I learned that from Bach. You have to be calm before you can his music. But for many of us in this hectic, often maddening world, that is a tall order. But music can help us get there. And it could be just one solitary note.

That’s a lot of meaningful stuff. Let’s shift to another subject and talk about banjos.

Banjos! Love em all. My first was a Thompson and O'Dell 'Artist' from c.1890, a nice banjo with a good pop. An SS Stewart Orchestra, a fretless model, which was a great looking banjo, followed this but I found it a bit thin. Plus, all the 'frets' had side-position dots - every one - and it was very difficult to know where you were once you ventured above the fifth-fret area. Both those instruments were sold after I got my first newly made instrument, an early Fairbanks copy by Luke Mercier (http://www.lukemercier.com/), to which he had added a Dobson tone ring. I can't tell you how much I love this banjo. Everything about it is perfect, but perfect for a specific area of music, although I'm sure it would also sound great in other contexts. As my understanding of banjo history and repertoire developed, I wanted an instrument that had some of the old minstrel banjo qualities, but was looking to the future, so from about 1865 to 1890. I call it the perfect parlor banjo, and for me the word 'parlor' carries no negative connotations. Something that is of a high quality in craftsmanship, though without any ostentatious inlay, coupled with an intimate voice, with great depth and subtlety. It remains my number 1 banjo.

I decided I needed a banjo for the English repertoire of Grimshaw, Morley, etc, and found a very good instrument by Parslow, with a neck possibly by Temlett. These are names maybe unfamiliar to American readers, but they are highly respected in England, and equal to the finest American models. It's a great instrument but is currently for sale as I have moved away from that repertoire. It is solid enough for steel strings, and on reflection I would not be upset if no one bought it!

I have a banjorine by Cole, which is great fun to play. I just wish I had a banjo ensemble to play it in. I also have a flush-fret English minstrel banjo, which originally had seven strings, now six. I feel there is a really good instrument in there, but I haven't given it the time yet to do the necessary restoration. I have a cheap fretless modern banjo for my tentative exploration of clawhammer. It's not a technique that comes easily to me, and the instrument doesn't get much play.

I'm very much looking forward to receiving the Boucher minstrel banjo currently being made for me by James Hartel (http://www.minstrelbanjo.com/) as I'm very interested in playing the earliest fingerstyle banjo music on it. In 1865, Frank Converse printed one of Tom Briggs' jigs. Now, Briggs' tutor of 1855 is arguably the most important Stroke style tutor (stroke playing is similar to clawhammer), but Converse indicates very clearly it is to be played fingerstyle, or what he calls 'guitar style'. So, the Boucher will aid me in my exploration of that area. It should arrive in my hands mid September, 2010.

I should state as clearly as possible that I do not at all believe in Progress, especially when it comes to music and musical instruments. Plastic heads and nylon strings are not an improvement on good-quality skin heads and good-quality gut strings. If Converse had had a modern high-tension banjo, he would have written different music. By recreating or restoring instruments to the what the composer used, then sitting down with his publication, using the technique he describes, you will get a very different effect from playing with a modern set up, using nails on nylon strings and plastic heads. Some people seem to be opting for convenience over tone, but that is not a musical choice. I also get a bit uppity when people try gut strings for a week or so, then take them off saying the strings are dead, or break too easily, or don't sound any different to nylgut. It took me about five years of playing gut strings on lutes and 19th-century guitars to fully appreciate the quality of good gut, how to touch it to get the most out of it, and only then after my fingertips had developed the suppleness to play them in an appropriate way. Gut strings are not for everyone. You need to live with them for a long time. Eventually, hopefully, you will learn, as I did, that there is a reason people played them for millenia. So, ultimately, I'm looking for respect for the instruments, techniques and composers of the 19th-century banjo. We wouldn't be playing banjo today without their creative energy.

Tell me more about your present musical pursuits and your musical aspirations for the future.

At the moment, I spend my days teaching privately from home. I have a good bunch of students, with a wide variety of interests and instruments, and that keeps me on my toes. My own research is with 19th-century fingerstyle gut-strung banjo, and the more I dig the deeper it gets. I have a new lute arriving in the spring of next year, with which I shall be exploring German baroque music, especially the music of Silvius Leopold Weiss. But I think that banjo will remain my first instrument for the foreseeable future.

Next year is a big year for me in terms of output, although all the work has already been done. I have four ukulele books being published by Mel Bay. One is of arrangements of music by the Spanish baroque composer, Gaspar Sanz. Another is of Celtic tunes. Another is of arrangements of banjo tunes from Tom Briggs' book of 1865, which sound great on the uke. And another is of my own compositions, 'Twenty Fingerstyle Studies for Ukulele', which deliberately puts the uke into unusual musical styles from Minimalism to Serialism, as well as blues, jazz and folk music. It really covers a lot of territory. There has been a lot of interest in the uke in recent years, and I'm hoping that some of those players would grow tired of strumming pop tunes and look to playing fingerstyle arrangements. We shall see.

I also have the two Mel Bay banjo books coming out: The Early American Parlor Banjo, and The Early Irish-American Banjo. Each book has a CD of my performances on the Luke Mercier Fairbanks/Dobson banjo, strung of course in gut. And I have an edition called The Scottish Guitar coming out with Centerstream, again with a CD of arrangements in DADGAD, Open D and Open G tunings. So, seven books/discs coming out. I also have a CD coming out on the French Early Music label, Alpha, of Scottish music from the 17th century, played on baroque guitar (me) and viol (Jonathan Dunford). A viol is like a cello with frets and gut strings. I'm really pleased with this recording. The melodies I chose are so beautiful.

It's strange to think that all that is coming out, the work having been completed already. I'll have to think of some other projects to occupy myself with. I thought of doing online teaching via Skype, if there is enough interest. I don't play gigs any more. I can't fly - am terrified of airplanes. I can't even go near an airport. So, sadly, I will not be coming to the States, unless I can find funding to go by cruise ship, but that is very expensive and time consuming. So I reach my audience in cyberspace via videos, and sites like Banjo Hangout and the two Ning sites. These are very important to me, not just from getting my own stuff out, but for learning from others and enjoying their friendship. I have said before, and I'll say it again, I would not be playing banjo if it were not for the Ning classic banjo site, which opened up a new world for me. I have many friends there, and on the other sites too. My problem with BHO is that what I do doesn't fit neatly into any of the discussion categories. It's not Old Time. It's not Clawhammer or Bluegrass. It's not even Classical. And it's not jazz. Nor is it Minstrel. What it is is wonderful banjo music! File under Soul Music!

Regarding teaching, I have taught in schools but ran into problems with Heads Of Departments. Most of them, in fact all of them, have come from a classical music background of the worst kind. I was told in numerous schools to stop teaching improvisation, the reason being they couldn't examine it. I just cannot cope with that kind of mentality. It did me no good to point out that Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, etc, spent every day of their lives improvising. So in my private teaching I introduce improv from day one. It is fundamental. Imagine only being able to converse in quotations from great literature? It would be funny for a while, but ultimately frustrating, no matter how expert the writers were. At some point we would want to utter something of our own, and thankfully we do from the start.

So I would have to sum up by saying I am quite happy at this point in my life. My wife writes dictionaries (!) and our daughter is a wonderfully positive 13-year old. I have enough students to make a basic living from, but not so many that I don't have time to play music myself. The banjo is absolutely central to my life these days, in fact I probably play three hours or so every day. I guess unlike most people, I came to the banjo from BEFORE its awakening in America (by playing lutes and early 19th-century guitar music first), whereas most people who get interested in 19th-century banjo work backwards from bluegrass and clawhammer. Consequently, I feel I am a student of the banjo, and I'm sure I always will be. I go to sleep hearing the sounds of the banjo in my head, and wake up early wondering what I will play on it that day. I'm reminded of how the creator of the Silver Bell tone ring, Henry C. Dobson, ''went to bed nights, and found it almost impossible to sleep, for the mellow notes of the banjo were continually ringing'' in his ears. Ah, The Mellow Banjo. That might be the title of my next CD!

Now I'm going to stop chattering, and will go play some banjo! Thanks for taking the time to interview me.

Thanks, Rob. This has been a great way to get to know you. Thanks for sharing your wisdom, insight and experience.

©2010 banjocrazy.com - reprinted with permission

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