I am finishing up my graduate degree at Oxford, after having spent ~6 months there prior to the coronavirus outbreak. Upon arriving in late September, 2019, I was elated to find the Bate collection of Musical Instruments, a wonderful two floors of historical musical instruments aplenty- over the previous four years I had been cultivating an extensive interest in harpsichords and clavichords to the point where I could distinguish between French, Flemish, German, and English instruments by sound alone, although I had only had the opportunity to play a single harpsichord, and not a single clavichord, up until the moment I walked into the Bate Collection. The three weeks I spent playing the Bate collection instruments were absolutely wonderful- I played my fill on the harpsichords and clavichords, and even the fortepianos of the collection. The bulk of the keyboard repertoire which I had learned was from the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book, a collection of English keyboard music predominantly from the 16th century, music that was perfectly suited to the instruments at my disposal in the Bate collection. I had a stupendous time giving tours to anyone who would listen, and experimenting with the baroque tonalities of the centuries-old instruments. My experience was amplified by the presence of two paintings with which I had acquired some familiarity prior to my coming up at Oxford, one of Dr. John Bull, and the other of Orlando Gibbons, which are found on the lower floor of the Bate Museum. The latter painting can be seen on the right side of the frame in this video. Those magical three weeks came to an unpleasant end when, after giving a 45-minute upper floor tour to a Brazilian student, I wandered downstairs and began to demonstrate the virginal and harpsichords on that level. Andy Lamb, the man in the video, was sitting behind the front desk, as Graham, the normal occupant of said position, was apparently at a rock concert. Graham and I had built a good, humorous rapport- I suppose my enthusiasm and appreciation of the historical value of the instruments showed in my attitude. Andy and I, however, had not had many interactions- upon first meeting him, he quipped "I don't like talking to people," which I took as being sarcastic- I would soon find out that this was not the case. In a generally goofy and experimental mood, amplified by my being surrounded with glorious keyboard instruments, I waltzed over to the table of wind instruments, free for anyone to play, and picked up a serpent- a long, curved bass wind instrument with a foundational resonance like unto a didgeridoo. And, like unto a didgeridoo, a serpent is especially well-suited to circular breathing, as I found out- in my present attitude, I decided to start honking, and maintained a long hooooooonk on the lowest bass note- it filled the lower floor, which was empty other than the Brazilian student and Andy Lamb- while walking around the instruments. I noticed that Mr. Lamb was ogling my activity with what I interpreted as an inquisitive expression, so I walked over to his desk and stood, perhaps a meter or two away from him, and continued my tenacious hooooooonk. It was quite silly, and after I walked away and did a few more rounds around the lower floor, I put the serpent back, sat down and played a harpsichord for a few minutes, and bid Andy farewell. The next Monday I walked into the Bate collection, ready to play to my heart's delight, but was stopped by Graham, who wistfully said "I'm sorry, but you're persona non grata here. Andy told me that you were rude to him, and you've been banned." I was dumbstruck- I asked if I could appeal, as surely, I thought, this misunderstanding could be put behind us, and Graham said that I could come in the next day, when Andy would be present. I did just that, offering as good an apology as I could muster- it was of course not my intention to offend him, and I believed that promising never again to behave in such goofy a manner on the grounds of the Bate collection would suffice. Suffice it did not, and Andy Lamb informed me that I had been banned permanently from playing the instruments of the Bate Collection. I was quite torn, and sought counsel from the head monk of my college, St. Benet's. Later on I was promised by the Master of the college, Richard Cooper, that he would personally contact Mr. Lamb to appeal my ban, and he did- but Mr. Lamb did not reply, a move that Dr. Cooper described as "most discourteous." Fortunately, Richard Cooper is far more tolerant of goofiness than Andy Lamb, and he took my various threats to shave off his eyebrows (the source of his power, like unto Samson's locks), lest he forget to send another email to Mr. Lamb, with good cheer. However, once Covid hit I unfortunately had to leave Oxford, leaving behind the various musical ensembles of which I had become a part- ringing tower bells at St. Giles Church, playing in the Oxford University Ceilidh band, and playing in the Gamelan Society. I would have liked to have played the Bate collection instruments for the full 6 months of my time in Oxford, rather than merely the first three weeks, but Andy Lamb stood in my way. I had many good interactions with good people in Oxford- it was overall a marvelous experience, and I grew as a person and as an academic, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I also had a few bad interactions- some people took displeasure at my American boisterousness, or were weirded out by my sensibilities, or were generally rude for no clear reason. The final interaction which I had with Andy Lamb, in which he laid upon me a permanent ban from my favorite place in Oxford, was the most unpleasant interaction which I had in my time in the UK. In spite of the major bummer that this represents, my family and friends enjoy the story that I tell, the long form of which is contained within this comment, the short form of which is "I got banned from a harpsichord museum for being weird." And if I may add one final remark, I really must say that the title of this video is misleading. Andy Lamb has absolutely NO hornpipe skills.
I am finishing up my graduate degree at Oxford, after having spent ~6 months there prior to the coronavirus outbreak. Upon arriving in late September, 2019, I was elated to find the Bate collection of Musical Instruments, a wonderful two floors of historical musical instruments aplenty- over the previous four years I had been cultivating an extensive interest in harpsichords and clavichords to the point where I could distinguish between French, Flemish, German, and English instruments by sound alone, although I had only had the opportunity to play a single harpsichord, and not a single clavichord, up until the moment I walked into the Bate Collection.
The three weeks I spent playing the Bate collection instruments were absolutely wonderful- I played my fill on the harpsichords and clavichords, and even the fortepianos of the collection. The bulk of the keyboard repertoire which I had learned was from the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book, a collection of English keyboard music predominantly from the 16th century, music that was perfectly suited to the instruments at my disposal in the Bate collection. I had a stupendous time giving tours to anyone who would listen, and experimenting with the baroque tonalities of the centuries-old instruments. My experience was amplified by the presence of two paintings with which I had acquired some familiarity prior to my coming up at Oxford, one of Dr. John Bull, and the other of Orlando Gibbons, which are found on the lower floor of the Bate Museum. The latter painting can be seen on the right side of the frame in this video.
Those magical three weeks came to an unpleasant end when, after giving a 45-minute upper floor tour to a Brazilian student, I wandered downstairs and began to demonstrate the virginal and harpsichords on that level. Andy Lamb, the man in the video, was sitting behind the front desk, as Graham, the normal occupant of said position, was apparently at a rock concert. Graham and I had built a good, humorous rapport- I suppose my enthusiasm and appreciation of the historical value of the instruments showed in my attitude. Andy and I, however, had not had many interactions- upon first meeting him, he quipped "I don't like talking to people," which I took as being sarcastic- I would soon find out that this was not the case.
In a generally goofy and experimental mood, amplified by my being surrounded with glorious keyboard instruments, I waltzed over to the table of wind instruments, free for anyone to play, and picked up a serpent- a long, curved bass wind instrument with a foundational resonance like unto a didgeridoo. And, like unto a didgeridoo, a serpent is especially well-suited to circular breathing, as I found out- in my present attitude, I decided to start honking, and maintained a long hooooooonk on the lowest bass note- it filled the lower floor, which was empty other than the Brazilian student and Andy Lamb- while walking around the instruments. I noticed that Mr. Lamb was ogling my activity with what I interpreted as an inquisitive expression, so I walked over to his desk and stood, perhaps a meter or two away from him, and continued my tenacious hooooooonk. It was quite silly, and after I walked away and did a few more rounds around the lower floor, I put the serpent back, sat down and played a harpsichord for a few minutes, and bid Andy farewell.
The next Monday I walked into the Bate collection, ready to play to my heart's delight, but was stopped by Graham, who wistfully said "I'm sorry, but you're persona non grata here. Andy told me that you were rude to him, and you've been banned." I was dumbstruck- I asked if I could appeal, as surely, I thought, this misunderstanding could be put behind us, and Graham said that I could come in the next day, when Andy would be present. I did just that, offering as good an apology as I could muster- it was of course not my intention to offend him, and I believed that promising never again to behave in such goofy a manner on the grounds of the Bate collection would suffice. Suffice it did not, and Andy Lamb informed me that I had been banned permanently from playing the instruments of the Bate Collection.
I was quite torn, and sought counsel from the head monk of my college, St. Benet's. Later on I was promised by the Master of the college, Richard Cooper, that he would personally contact Mr. Lamb to appeal my ban, and he did- but Mr. Lamb did not reply, a move that Dr. Cooper described as "most discourteous." Fortunately, Richard Cooper is far more tolerant of goofiness than Andy Lamb, and he took my various threats to shave off his eyebrows (the source of his power, like unto Samson's locks), lest he forget to send another email to Mr. Lamb, with good cheer.
However, once Covid hit I unfortunately had to leave Oxford, leaving behind the various musical ensembles of which I had become a part- ringing tower bells at St. Giles Church, playing in the Oxford University Ceilidh band, and playing in the Gamelan Society. I would have liked to have played the Bate collection instruments for the full 6 months of my time in Oxford, rather than merely the first three weeks, but Andy Lamb stood in my way.
I had many good interactions with good people in Oxford- it was overall a marvelous experience, and I grew as a person and as an academic, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I also had a few bad interactions- some people took displeasure at my American boisterousness, or were weirded out by my sensibilities, or were generally rude for no clear reason. The final interaction which I had with Andy Lamb, in which he laid upon me a permanent ban from my favorite place in Oxford, was the most unpleasant interaction which I had in my time in the UK. In spite of the major bummer that this represents, my family and friends enjoy the story that I tell, the long form of which is contained within this comment, the short form of which is "I got banned from a harpsichord museum for being weird."
And if I may add one final remark, I really must say that the title of this video is misleading. Andy Lamb has absolutely NO hornpipe skills.
Blowing one's own trumpet? lol 🤣