Types
There are two types of bagpipe made and played in Wales. One species uses a single-reed (cal or calaf) in the chanter (Welsh: llefarydd, see image top right), and the other uses a double-reed (see image on right). The single-reed chanter is also furnished with a cow-horn bell. Both types of chanter may also be played un-attached to the bag; the single-reed type in the form of a hornpipe (Welsh: pibgorn pl:pibgyrn, see image below right), and the double-reed type in the form of a shawm. The double-reed type is characteristically louder, and can over-blow a few notes in the upper register. The single-reed type plays only an octave. The bagpipes may be drone-less or furnished with drones (byrdwn) via the bag (cwdyn).
The single-reed chanter is drilled with six small finger-holes and a thumb-hole giving a diatonic compass of an octave. Modern examples are generally pitched in D Major, or D Mixolydian; but historical instruments give a variety of pitch as well as musical modes. The double reed chanters come in a variety of pitches, and some of the instruments may be cross-fingered to give different modes. Some have a semi-tone leading note at the bottom of the instrument, others give a whole tone leading note.
Repertoire on both is contiguous with minor adaptations necessitated by the limitations of each particular instrument.
Read more about this topic: Welsh Bagpipes
Famous quotes containing the word types:
“As for types like my own, obscurely motivated by the conviction that our existence was worthless if we didnt make a turning point of it, we were assigned to the humanities, to poetry, philosophy, paintingthe nursery games of humankind, which had to be left behind when the age of science began. The humanities would be called upon to choose a wallpaper for the crypt, as the end drew near.”
—Saul Bellow (b. 1915)
“He types his laboured columnweary drudge!
Senile fudge and solemn:
Spare, editor, to condemn
These dry leaves of his autumn.”
—Robertson Davies (b. 1913)
“... there are two types of happiness and I have chosen that of the murderers. For I am happy. There was a time when I thought I had reached the limit of distress. Beyond that limit, there is a sterile and magnificent happiness.”
—Albert Camus (19131960)