The photograph conveys an impression of pleasing informality. I came across it in The Book of the Bagpipe by Hugh Cheape, p. 36. Showing a robustly dressed middle-aged gentleman sitting on the wooden post of a gate, his boots placed on a barrel lid. He is playing a chabrette, a tobacco pipe hangs from the corner of his right mouth and an open bottle (presumably red wine?) with a drinking vessel stands in front of him. The rustic, handcrafted furnishings and the uninhibited presence of stimulants lend the scene a special kind of serenity. According to the caption, the photograph was taken in France in the early 20th century, and the context in which it was taken is described as ‘a local festival’.
The picture derives its appeal above all from a series of contrasts that flow together here in a concise manner: precision and coarseness – hardship and cheerfulness – intoxication and understanding – dirt and art. It is these tensions that tell of a more complete and therefore more interesting life, one that is not about feigning perfection and flawlessness.
You are always at your best
When you don’t really care
sings the German rock band Die Ärzte in their Lied vom Scheitern (Song About Failure). The wit of these lines: The willingness to fail is a good prerequisite for success. Positive outcomes are thus transformed from frantically pursued goals into nice side effects, without which it is possible to live well. Admittedly, not an easy exercise. But perhaps a promising one. Not just for your own music. So, to the barrels!
