The mountain music… is compelling music in its own right, harking back to a time when music was a part of everyday life and not something performed by celebrities. ~ Ethan Coen
My favorite places to relax are in the Smoky Mountains. This may well be because my most pleasurable childhood vacations were there. We usually camped, not my fave activity, but the streams and the views more than compensated for lack of creature comforts. As I recall, we often stayed adjacent to one of the creeks, where chipmunks and all manner of other critters scampered around the campground.
Even then, Park personnel directed campers to safely store food, and we complied. Not that we had that much, anyway, but that’s fodder for a different blog. We did observe an incident that drove that directive home, though. One morning we ventured out of our tent and saw a neighboring camper checking out the damage to his vehicle. He had a case of motor oil in the back seat, unopened. Well, the cans were unopened until a bear considered the possibility that those cans contained food. He then opened them to find out, and the back seat had significant collateral damage. Point taken.
While there was plenty of entertainment close to the campfire, we also had the opportunity to soak up some mountain culture. Early on, that consisted primarily of visiting structures in Cades Cove and perhaps Elkmont, but on trips later in life we experienced the music. I was immediately captivated by the sound of the dulcimer, though I can’t say I really knew what I was looking at then. Ok. I didn’t know anything at all about that instrument, and that wasn’t remedied until last fall. At that time I was given the opportunity to take dulcimer lessons and began to learn more about the history of this unique instrument.
As it happens, though, the jury is still out on some of the details. That is, even the experts haven’t reached a consensus as to the mountain (or Appalachian) dulcimer’s origin. It may have been an offshoot of the English instrument, the rebec. The shape is similar, but it’s played with a bow and held as a violin would be. Others lean toward a zither (or zitter) origin, likely from Germany. Or at least with a German designer in Pennsylvania. Even Encyclopedia Brittanica jumps on that boat, contending that the mountain dulcimer is a zither. Could be, but the dulcimer is played differently, has only 3-4 strings and doesn’t sound the same. But you be you, EB. On to other possibilities.
If you research this for yourself, you may see references to a langeleik (Norwegian) or a psalmdikon or a hummel (both Swedish). None seem to bear much similarity to the mountain dulcimer. Well, the hummel looks like half a dulcimer, but the sound is different.
The German scheitholt may well be the mountain dulcimer’s ancestor. That said, the dulcimer shape contains gentle curves and the scheitholt is boxy. Also, the frets are mounted differently, but the sound is similar, as is the playing method. The scheitholt dates back to the 17th century, or at least that is the belief. However, the oldest one on record is from the late 18th century. At some point along the way that instrument was modified to produce the sweet sounds of the mountain dulcimer.
The oldest mountain dulcimer that has been found was owned by Paul Holbrook in Lexington, Kentucky. It appears to have been made by John Scales, Jr., in Floyd County, VA, in 1832. There are documents (inventories) that reflect the existence of dulcimers as early as 1816, but it doesn’t appear to be certain that the ones mentioned were mountain dulcimers. This is pivotal, since there are a number of dulcimer variations. The shape might be hourglass or tear drop, though at one time you might see an ellipse, diamond or rectangle. There might be differences in the width, the strings, the size of sound holes and the fret placement. And don’t ask about the implications of any of those factors. I’m out of my depth at this point. But back to modifications.
Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.”
― The Mountains of California
In this instance, there were good reasons for the changes. The immigrants from Scotland and Ireland who had moved to the Appalachian region preferred an instrument more suited to faster paced songs. That, and they used materials for strumming that were easily available: quills and flexible twigs. With the change in the fretboard positioning and the wider body, the instrument was more stable while strumming and the twig/quill/whatever was more likely to hit the strings than the body. Different sound. Different experience.
All that is interesting (I hope), but you may be wondering how on earth people who scraped a living out of the earth without mechanization or running water or electricity would have time to make music. I couldn’t find anything that specifically addresses this conundrum, but I can certainly speculate. It is my blog, after all.
My thoughts on this are that the lack of modern tools, utilities and entertainment are in themselves the reason people had time. I don’t mean to intrude, but how many hours a week do you spend gazing at your phone? Watching TV? Driving 10-20 miles for relaxation or pleasure? See?
That, and perhaps they knew what many of us might know, but don’t prioritize. Music can lift your spirits, make you forget about whatever is creating anxiety, AND singing helps you learn.
This mattered because people from centuries past valued their families’ histories the same way we do now. They didn’t want to lose theirs and they didn’t have iPhones to enable video and/or audio recordings.According to a WSJ article, memorization comes much easier with a song. Perhaps that’s why Mary Poppins used a song as she attempted to convince the Banks’ children to be useful and obedient. But, I digress.
Singing lyrics that incorporated family experiences would go a long way to ensuring that the younger generations would not forget their beginnings. Many Appalachian families had come from Germany, Ireland and Scotland. They left their countries, but they weren’t abandoning their ancestors. Music was (and is) a way to retain connections. Back to the dulcimer.
The appreciation of any art, whether music or painting or sculpture–is subjective.Traditionally (and sadly) in centuries past the dulcimer was relegated to the bottom of the barrel. Since the instrument, in whatever form, was portable and less costly than a number of other options, it was considered a low class form of music. Well, we all have an opinion. To me, the music of the mountain dulcimer sounds like home. Like the peace I find in the hills and valleys of East Tennessee. This instrument offers a gentle reminder of the pleasures of the past and a respite from the pressure of the 21st century. All I have to do is accept the offer.
You?
Note: Obviously I didn’t pull all of this out of my gray cells. Apart from what I’ve learned from GSMNP staff & volunteers (especially Jeanine Ferrence and Deb Butterfield), there were other resources. These were primarily Appalachian Dulcimer Traditions and The Story of the Dulcimer, both by Ralph Lee Smith. The content above contains but a fraction of available detail. Check your library to learn more.
Very interesting!
I’m looking forward to being invited to your first recital 😉
Thanks Gail, great stuff, I wasn’t aware of your blog until Mark mentioned it to me. I’ve always heard, and continue to tell folks that the mountain dulcimer is one of the few truly American instruments since the first ones were found here in the S Appalachians, makes sense to me, but you’d be surprised at what “makes sense to me” – Ken