Healing Music
Scots piper Ross Ainslie found solace in composing after the tragic death of his mentor
Pollar Pullar speaks to Scottish musician Ross Ainslie about music and mental health
MUSIC has the power to stir the most profound emotions, to invigorate or calm, to move us to tears of joy or sadness, and remind us of people, places, and events.
Martin Luther said, “My heart which is so full to overflowing, has often been solaced and refreshed by music when sick and weary.”
While Hans Christian Anderson wrote, “Where words fail, music speaks,” and from Plato comes, “Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything.”
When I first heard the young multi-talented Ross Ainslie playing whistle and pipes, some 15 years ago, I was immediately aware of exceptional talent. My emotions were overwhelming, for his playing carried energy and intensity that I had seldom encountered.
I grew up in an environment where most of the piping I heard were regimented competition pieces, and pipe bands at country shows. At the other end of the spectrum were the strangled efforts of boozy regulars on untuned pipes, in our pub in Kilchoan. It was hardly comparable. I realised I had experienced something a world apart.
Ross Ainslie is one of Scotland’s finest traditional musicians and composers, highly sought on the Scottish contemporary folk scene for his skill on pipes, whistles and cittern. He is an innovator, a member of numerous bands and plays as a duo – Ross and Ali, with childhood friend and equally outstanding piper, Ali Hutton.
He has forged other extraordinary duos with musicians including, Jarlath Henderson, and Tim Edey, and has made and contributed to a long list of eclectic albums.
“I was eight years old when I started to learn the
pipes,” Ross says. “I started having lessons with Norrie Sinclair in the Perth and District Pipe Band, but I was far keener on football and sport than music. It could have gone either way.
“Then when I was 11, Norrie encouraged me to join the Vale of Atholl Novice Junior band, and there, by sheer luck, I met the legendary Gordon Duncan. I started hearing the pipes with other instruments and witnessed what could be achieved.”
Piper Gordon Duncan was indeed a legend, and his astonishing improvisation and influential, ground-breaking style set him on a world stage. I only heard him play a handful of times, and on each occasion, I knew I was witnessing a genius. For Ross, as a piping prodigy,
Gordon’s influence would prove life-changing.
“The Vale of Atholl was a very sociable and exciting band,” Ross says. “There was always lots going on. Ali Hutton was in the band too, and Gordon took some of us away for training weekends, sometimes to places like Rowardennan where we had a brilliant time.
“He was a lovely guy and became my mentor. I learned to play small pipes and whistles too. Ali and I were inseparable, and in our late teens, Gordon took us on a tour around the north of Spain, where we played festivals in Asturias, Cantabria and Galicia.
“That was my first taste of touring. It was wild, just unreal. We didn’t feel like kids anymore. I learned so much from Gordon, not just piping but about other music, and the power of improvisation, and fusion. If it hadn’t been for him, I really wouldn’t be where I am now. He was a pioneer.
“I was always headstrong, but I knew I wanted to play full time. I went to college to do a traditional music course, but I didn’t pass exams, I was more interested in playing and started to write my own music. I love composing.
“I then did a degree course at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama – since renamed Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. I now teach other young
pipers there. The folk scene was very vibrant with sessions every night.
“It was exciting and wild – but there was endless partying and drinking. There are long periods that I really can’t remember at all.”
Alcohol and substance abuse is closely linked with mental health issues such as depression and anxiety and in recent years the music industry has recognised that it is dealing with a serious mental health crisis.
That it’s a potentially unhealthy and damaging scene is something familiar to many professional musicians. The toll can be disastrous.
In 2005, the revered Gordon Duncan took his own life. He was 41, and his premature death sent shock waves and deep sadness globally.
I had seen him play only a month before. Knowing he had had a long struggle with alcohol, which ended in a tragedy similar to my father’s suicide, brought back the misery our family endured with Dad’s alcohol addiction.
Did Gordon Duncan ever realise the esteem in which he was held?
After seeing the effects drinking can have, Ross gave up alcohol entirely and he’s still going strong.
“It’s not that hard to stop, but you have constant doubts and thoughts about who you are without that scene. You have to rebuild yourself because you don’t have the thing that blurs it all. It’s a long road.
“You ask yourself why you were doing it? It defines who you are and makes you think that maybe now you’re a different person.’
Ross is happiest when he is composing. It was a relief for him to discover that he could be incredibly productive without a drink. Exercise and being outside helps combat the lows that he still experiences, and he enjoys training for Half Iron Man competitions involving swimming and running.
For many musicians, the Covid-19 lockdowns proved disastrous. Gone were the practice sessions together, the camaraderie, the live events. Most are self-employed and their income vanished too.
For some, it provided respite from pressure, giving them the chance to re-evaluate their lives. Ross spent
“It was exciting and wild – but there was endless partying drinking” and
more time composing and took a job as a labourer in remote Knoydart.
“It is a beautiful place, I had never done anything like that before, but it was good.”
Ross is open and honest about his past relationship with alcohol. He recently contributed to Gaelic singer Mischa Macpherson’s emotive film on BBC Alba about musicians and mental health. He says that he hopes by discussing it openly, it helps others struggling, particularly the younger generation.
“Men are not good about talking about these things, but when you admit you cannot cope, you realise you are not alone. People come out of the woodwork.
“I have been going to India for many years to play with India Alba – we are two Scots and two Indian musicians. I love it there and find it inspirational.
“On my last visit I went to a wellness retreat, because I was totally burned out. It was an incredible experience, in a beautiful place where I could clear my head and relax totally. It was a turning point, and I long to return.”
Out of that spiritual journey emerged Ross’s latest poignant album, named after the retreat, Vana.
“I wanted it to be a follow on from the previous album Sanctuary, so the two could flow one from the other. Music is my medicine.”
When it comes to mental health issues, admitting there is a problem opens a gateway to a brighter future. While speaking to Ross Ainslie a quote by Spanish cellist and composer, Pablo Casals comes to mind – “Music is the divine way to tell beautiful poetic things to the heart.”
But sometimes it comes at a price.
“A head” beautiful place where I could clear my
For more on Ross’s music go to www.rossainslie.com