THE QUESTION:

Dear Mr. Kerchner,

I’m a lifelong drum corps fan and feel I have been very patient through the years with all the changes DCI has made but enough is enough.

I saw the quarter finals in 2019 at the movie theatre and was astounded first by the costuming, the incredibly poor sound effects, singing, and, believe it or not, a violin solo. (I believe I saw this on Youtube.)

And then the programming. When did DCI become WGI? The costumes were atrocious. The recorded music and sound systems made me sick. Trombones do not belong in drum corps. When did the visual become king? Would there be a place for the likes of Hy Dreitzer or Truman Crawford today?

I can’t picture you or Drietzer or Crawford going along with some visual “expert” as he or she suggests taking the last 8 bars of music out at letter A because a visual would really work in that segment.

I don’t want to research the shows and music for the corps that I love. If I wanted that, I’d go to Symphony Hall and research BSO and the composers.

The alumni corps seem to get what the crowd wants but the talent can’t compare with DCI’s finest.

Sorry for venting. Any comments or suggestions? Or is it time for a new hobby?

Richard O’Brien
Lincoln, MA

THE ANSWER:

Dear Mr. O’Brien,

I’m sorry you’re feeling at the end of your rope regarding the many changes in DCI (and I assume drum corps in general?). While some of the changes you cite have taken place in the recent past, it took an estimated 100 years to unfold and to reach its current state.

The most laborious part of this evolution occurred in the first 50 years, when the wheels of change moved at a snail’s pace. Actually, a snail’s pace is an Olympic 100-yard dash when contrasted with the actual time it took to institute any change whatsoever. Sisyphus had it easy compared to changing drum corps competition rules. At least he didn’t have to try to reason with the boulder he was forced to push up that hill for eternity, nor did he have any deluded expectations that his job was going to be easy.

For example, do you think that any drum corps member or even instructor today can relate to having to march at a tempo of between 128 and 132 beats per minute, and any fluctuation from that four-beat range would be penalized? Or that the entire corps had to stand at attention in a straight line while a judge inspected every member, one-at-a-time, and that the tiniest thread or hair on a uniform, or if a drop of spit flew from your horn when you snapped it up to be scrutinized for dirt or scratches, or if, God forbid, your shoes weren’t shined and your feet weren’t at a 45° angle, with your heels together and perfectly aligned? There was an untold amount of minutia that made up drum corps beyond haircuts and flying spit, but ironically, most of it wasn’t music or instrument-related.

For the purpose of illustration, and since it’s my area of expertise, I’ll give you a thumbnail sketch of brass instruments’ evolution in drum corps: They started with half the horn line playing no-valved G instruments and the other half playing no-valved D instruments. Consecutive pitches that comprised melodies were played by whomever had those particular notes on whichever horn he played (the same principle as a handbell choir). Then somebody had the idea of putting the G and D lengths of tubing together into one horn by using a piston valve to switch back and forth from one key to the other. For whatever reason, the valve was attached horizontally and had to be played with the thumb. Some say it was to fool the powers-that-be by making its existence less obvious. Others claim it was so the horn could be held and played more easily with one hand, just as its no-valved predecessors were. This allowed for the all-important left arm swing!

(Mind you, piston-valved brass instruments had been around since 1815, but this marked drum corps’ odd quest to reinvent the wheel, albeit in a cruder, less logical fashion, because as soon as valves became a “thing” for brass instruments, it didn’t take long to discover that it took at least three of them to be able to produce a full chromatic scale in multiple octaves.)

Some judging associations or contest sponsors approved this “new-fangled” valved horn and some didn’t, so a lock-like device was used to force some players to play only the G side and others to play only the D side when the rules prevented the use of the valve, which was either locked in the UP position or the DOWN position depending on your function in the musical jigsaw puzzle.

Eventually, G-D horns were universally accepted and that became the standard until 1968 (I think), but along the way, someone had the idea to sand down the main tuning slide so it moved freely and use it to add the keys of F# and C# by pulling it out and extending the tubing (like a mini-trombone, except weirder). This was often called a “slip slide,” and I’m sure it went through an “illegal” phase like all of the convoluted solutions to the “anti-notes” mentality that permeated the activity. Those same PTB (powers-that-be) wanted corps to play music, but they wouldn’t allow them to have the notes to do so. (I didn’t say any of this was logical!)

The next advancement is attributed to a gentleman from Boston, named Scotty Chappelle. He replaced the “slip slide” with a rotary valve, which allowed the horn to be extended by the same amount of tubing as the slip slide, only in a mechanically easier way. How did he get away with THAT, you ask? He brilliantly befuddled, bamboozled, and hoodwinked (aka, conned) the PTB by calling it a “rotary slide” instead of a valve, which is what it was. Yep, from that moment, drum corps had 2-valved horns – one piston valve and one rotary valve. But because they were two different kinds of valves, the activity deluded itself by using terms like “valve-rotor horns” or “piston-rotor horns,” as if a “rotor” weren’t a valve, and only a “valve” is a valve, when in fact, a “rotor” is a rotary valve, which is a valve, and a “piston” is a piston valve, which is also a valve. I think it was Shakespeare who said, “A valve by any other name would smell as valve oily.” I believe he played valve-rotor sackbut in the Stratford-On-Avon Cadets before he became a poet and playwright. He was always singing, “I’ve been a puppet, a poet, a pirate, a pauper, a pawn, and a king!” A very annoying guy from all accounts.

But I digress . . .

The next “innovation” was when the tubing on the D side of the horn was shortened to produce the key of F instead of D. It didn’t look like much of a change – it was still a 2-valved horn, still called “valve-rotor,” and still played with either two thumbs or a right thumb and a left finger. But this single change, going from G-D to G-F, was the change that made all the difference, because now the two valves of the 2-valved horn had the same function as the first two valves of a “legit” 3-valved horn. Now, if only those two valves A.) were the same kind of valve, and B.) could be played with two fingers on the same hand instead of thumbs and fingers from two different hands . . . Enter the 2-piston horn! With two piston valves that were upright – vertical instead of horizontal. “Wow! What a concept!” (Said a sarcastic 1815 trumpet player from beyond the grave.) After that, it was “in for a penny, in for a pound,” and Voila! – the coveted third valve joined the party! So did A-flats, E-flats, Ds, C-sharps, low A-flats, Gs, and F-sharps! So did alternate fingerings, chromatic scales, and seven valve combinations instead of four! Take that, 1815!!!

So for decades, it was like trying to swim the English Channel with your wrists handcuffed behind your back. Yet somehow, drum corps folks made it work and the activity plodded forward like molasses in January, and the wheel was finally reinvented! Halle-frickin’-lujah!!!

You may have noticed that I never used the term “bugle.” That’s because the cylindrically-bored instruments used in drum corps were never really bugles – just G trumpets (until the flügelhorn, which is a true bugle because of its conical bore). I’ll stop here because my almost life-long crusade of touting this and the use of three valves will take me to a place even more annoying than my “valve” rant!

The point of this whole tale (which really is merely the tip of the iceberg, considering the number of details I left out of every facet) is to point out the many many years that were spent grinding, like tectonic plates, to a point, a platform, from which new creative concepts could spring. And like a spring that had been slowly wound over time, the activity was ready to take all that pent-up energy and, when released, explode in all sorts of new directions. Good ones. Bad ones. Successful ones. Unsuccessful ones. Like them or not. But once that threshold was crossed, change happened exponentially, and it happened in all facets of the activity. I only explored a sliver of one!

So if, in exploring new creative opportunities, the drum corps you knew and loved seems to have disappeared, try looking deeply into it and see if you can’t find it in there, then tie it all together, because if it weren’t for the trials and tribulations of the past, coupled with the strong will and never-give-up work ethic of thousands of drum corps pioneers, today’s activity would probably not exist and certainly would never have flourished. Call it drum corps, call it marching arts, call it what you will, but as Shakespeare said, “A rose by any other name . . .” (He said that after his “valve” speech!)

Sincerely,
Larry Kerchner