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More Subtle Than Any Beast of the Field
12 September 2005
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| © M·A Recordings |
Adolphe Adam (1803-1856), composer of O Holy Night,
once observed, “In Paris, at the hub of the arts, one cannot enter a
church without being followed by one or sometimes two serpents.”
Most believe the bewitching instrument he was referring to was invented
around 1590 by French priest Edmé Guillaume of St. Steven Auxerre
Cathedral to add a fuller baritone/bass voice to his choir. The serpent
consists of a wooden tube carved as two half-rounds, glued together and
then firmly wrapped with a coil of veal skin or other leather to make it
airtight. The most common version needs to be about six feet long, so in
order to make it compact enough to hold they give it several crooks.
Classically there are six holes for the fingering and an angled metal tube
ending in a wooden or ivory cup-shaped mouthpiece similar to that used for
a trombone. Indeed, people taking up the serpent nowadays are more often
than not trombonists or other low-register brass players. It emits a
rounder, more organic tone than a metal instrument, somewhat bassoon-like
yet also rather human. It’s fiendishly difficult to play in tune, plus you
need exceptional dexterity to negotiate its holes swiftly and unerringly.
As musical
instruments go, the serpent enjoyed a distinguished career — about
300 years — until it was phased out first by the ophicleide (a less
zigzaggy version made of metal and employing keys rather than simple
holes) and then finally the euphonium and tuba by the late nineteenth
century. George Frederick Handel employed the serpent in his Royal
Fireworks Music (1749), Beethoven in at least one of his marches, Berlioz
in Messe Solennelle (1824 but lost until 1991), and Wagner in his opera
Rienzi (1842). Christopher Monk, Alan Lumsden, and Andrew van der Beek
founded the London Serpent Trio in 1976, which continues to perform in a
wide range of musical genres to this day with a newer generation of
players.
Aside from the Trio, two of the serpent’s strongest exponents are
currently Douglas Yeo and Michel Godard. Yeo has been a bass trombonist
with the Boston Symphony since 1985 and a hands-down authority on the
subject, but when it comes to virtuoso serpentry he’s clearly a Man on a
Mission. Check out his newest CD Le Monde
du Serpent (with free MP3 excerpts). Says Fanfare Magazine,
“It’s obvious Yeo meant to entertain as well as to educate, and this
lively CD succeeds at doing both brilliantly. The performances are expert
and loving, and the production values demonstrate the utmost in care and
discernment.” Michel Godard's CD, Sous Les Voûtes le Serpent, is a
different reptile entirely but intriguing in its own way, featuring
selections such as “Tuba Chant” and “A Black Dust Cloud
and Stars Embedded in Gaseous Nebulosities (For Carl Sagan).” I'm
afraid Garrison Keillor won't be standing in line for either of these,
though, having said of the serpent, “The urge to perform is not a
sign of talent.” To each his own, I guess.
© Peter Blinn 2005
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