The Drama of the University’s Secret Harp

Music and culture are crucial components of society. We pursue them for joy. We pursue them because we can. And yet, for students at Edinburgh University, it seems this source of wonder, and essential part of culture, is being gate-kept.

Harp music plays a crucial part in Celtic culture – not just Irish (although I’m sure the Guinness logo is quick to come to mind) but also Scottish. The instrument can be found engraved on 8th Century Pictish stones, and their beautiful ethereal melodies have run through Scottish music for centuries. Yet, these instruments are far from practical. You can’t just lug them around the place, or take them with you to uni. Where do you store them? Is there a place for you to play? How do you feasibly move one of these giants? 

So, when Emily moved to Edinburgh, she was keen to see what arrangements could be made. Upon inquiry, she found that the University owns just one harp, reserved exclusively for Music students. As a Religious Studies student, she didn’t fit the bill. The School of Music cited their responsibility to “reserve access and monitor the condition of the harp”, presumably to keep it safe for Music students.

Intrigued and undeterred, Emily tracked down the single Music student specialising in the harp for performance, seeing if she could get access to the instrument. The student was obliging but it transpired that she too faced heavy restrictions: it was only recently that it was moved to a accessible practise room, after a long stint sitting half-forgotten in a room off the staff piano room. The music student faced further obstacles as she wasn’t allowed to move the instrument into Reid Hall, the University’s music venue, for performance lectures – a crucial part of her degree. It seems that by focusing so heavily on protecting the harp, the use and enjoyment of it has been left blurred and forgotten in the background.

After another attempt at arguing her case, stating her qualifications and noting the music student’s support, Emily’s attempts were once again met with a resounding ‘no’ from the Music Department. 

As well as cumbersome, harps are also expensive and fragile, so an emphasis on its protection is not misplaced. But how can we balance this need for looking after it, whilst continuing to celebrate it? This is, in many ways, a question that lies at the heart of so many arguments about our past and its relevance in the modern day: how can we protect our heritage, whilst also allowing it to be reinvented and enjoyed in the present? Does doing one stop the other?

Stuck between these two options, it seems the University has chosen to place emphasis on protecting the past. Whether in the future all students at the University of Edinburgh will be given the opportunity to play the harp remains to be seen.

Harp” by James Jordan is licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0.