David Valdés

"Concerto for Percussion and Small Orchestra" (D. Milhaud)

Considered one of the first concerti for multipercussion, the Concerto pour batterie et petit orchestre op. 109, by Darius Milhaud, was written  between 1929 and 1930. An important work in the percussion repertoire, it is played very often by both students and professionals.

 

It is scored for triangle, suspended cymbal, cowbell (a small anvil according to an interview given by the composer to Michael Rossen in January, 1973), woodblock, two crashed cymbals, castanets, whip, ratchet, tambourine, snare drum, tenor drum, Provenzal drum, tam-tam, four timpani and pedal bass drum featuring a detachable cymbal.

Instrumentación del "Concierto para percusión y pequeña orquesta".
Percussion instruments as listed in the conductor´s score.

Leaving aside the relative difficulty of getting a tenor drum and a Proveçal drum (I have written already about these two instruments, I own both and you can get in touch with me if you need them), this work features an instrument that, because of the lack of knowledge on the History of Percussion, it is not well understood by performers: “grosse caisse à pédale avec cymbale décrochable”. It is that precise instrument the one that we will be dealing with in this article.

 

Our “mistery drum” is, literally a “bass drum with a detachable cymbal”, as already mentioned on the second paragraph. Because of their modern approach to this work (therefore out of context), performers resort to a hi-hat, a suspended cymbal, etc. All that makes very hard to find a “correct” interpretation of this concerto. None of the substitutes previously mentioned were requested by Milhaud, neither they provide the sound, character and timbre that he was looking for (also, they tend to make playing harder that it should be).

 

The part provides very precise instructions regarding the instruments to be used and their setup:

Disposición de los instrumentos.
Instruments setup

If we look closely, we can see that the detachable cymbal is mounted on the lower part of the bass drum, paralel to the head. Above, and on the bass drum, there is a trap table. On it, several instruments: suspended cymbal, castanets, triangle, slapstick, ratchet, woodblock and cowbell.

Pedal en la base del bombo.
Pedal and cymbal

That arrangement is not accidental. For those of you who like historical stuff, it is crystal clear that the composer is describing a trapset, an early form of drumset in use when this concerto was written (“traps” comes from “contraptions”, the various implements on the tray above the bass drum).

Trap set.
Trap set.

We have a perfect match in the photo above. The cymbal attached to the bass drum and the small instruments on a tray (exactly the same that Milhaud wrote for). This concerto was written with a very specific instrument in mind; so specific that it is precisely described and drawn in the part and the score. If we want to be true to the composer´s intentions (and, therefore, obtain the character and sound that Milhaud had in mind plus facilitate playing the part), we must use the same gear that he knew while composing the piece. That is no other than a clanger, omnipresent in trapsets of that period. It consists on a small metal “hammer” attached to the shaft of the pedal and a cymbal support attached to the counterhoop 

Clanger.
Clanger.
Portaplato.
Cymbal "rack"
Conjunto de bombo y plato.
The whole set together

This gear alowws playing the bass drum and the cymbal simultaneously, something very common at that time given the band and military origin of the trapset and the music for which it was used (marches, quicksteps, ragtimes, Charleston, etc.).

 

So using a hi-hat, although it was invented in 1926 (it was not featured on a record until 1931), is not correct, as Milhaud´s description is very clear. Neither is the use of a suspended cymbal, as it has nothing to do with the character and sound inherent to a clanger.

 

Why does the composer specifically request for it to be detachable? Easy… As you know, there are passages where the bass drum has to be played without striking the cymbal. The performer can move the clanger backwards during the rest bars so, when pressing down the pedal, the cymbal is not played. There is one more solution that facilitates things even more: using two pedals; one with a clanger, the other one without. Do you think that that is a very modern thing? Well, a two pedals arrangement is as old as trapsets:

Trap set con doble pedal.
Trap set featuring two pedals

Some performers prefer using a symphonic bass drum for said passages featuring only the bass drum (using conventional mallets), but I stay true to Milhaud´s intentions and I use a pedal bass drum with a clanger. This facilitates playing very much (not to say about logistics!) and provides the requested sound and character.

 

Clangers turn up on eBay from time to time. I strongly recommend you getting one not only for this concerto but for “Histoire du Soldat” and many other works. It is a super handy and convenient piece of gear. Mine is a Ludwig, a present from a colleague.

 

If you cannot get one, here is an easy solution. Attach a triangle beater to the shaft of the pedal as in the photo below. Use a boom cymbal stand as below and put the cymbal in a way so it is hit by the before-mentioned triangle beater. Not the real deal, but easy and convenient.

Pedal con varilla de triángulo.
Poor man´s clanger
Pie de plato.
Boom stand holding the cymbal parallel to the bass drum head

Now we know why Milhaud wrote what he wrote, the kind of drumset used at that time, how his writing was dictated by the available gear (or how he took advantage of the available gear), what a clanger is, etc.

 

Regarding this concerto, we could talk about the snare drum, tenor drum and Provençal drum parts (which some percussionists find confusing), but we better leave that for a future occasion.

 

How have you played this part? Now that we know the clanger, would you use it? I will be glad to hear you approach to this interesting part of the percussion literature.

 

 

…et in Arcadia ego.

© David Valdés