Or at least than I, myself, think? Then I started to wonder: did I ever even have an opinion about the triangle? I really only knew of its association with “high brow” classical symphonic orchestras: true, not my main musical interest, but I was still intrigued by its high sound and function in the piece, as I was in most music, as such.
The latter increased over time, especially – and interestingly – after my whole trajectory through “the world of percussion” - esp. the last decennia - with an emphasis on Afro-Cuban, and African, especially Yoruba and Igbo instruments, though further varied geographically (later came also Afro-Brazil). Triangles are after all part of the “percussion family”, as they call it.
Tellingly, since the (like the triangle) metal “campana” (“cowbell” in Spanish) is important in Afro-Cuban music, I obtained that soon in that percussion trajectory: not long after conga’s and bongos, actually, Why suddenly “campana” must be used in this context instead of English “bell” or Dutch “bel”, I really don’t know, but many do. I understand it is fun to slip in a Spanish word, haha.
More metal instruments followed adter the campana/bell for me. My first “triangle”, however, I only bought recently. I encountered it by chance in a percussion musical instruments shop in outer northwestern Amsterdam, Netherlands, a shop called Pustjens. I always look out - in this shop and elsewhere - for small interesting percussion to add to my collection (with intent to use musically!), and this time there were also triangles of different sizes. The smaller ones were cheaper than I thought, so I bought one. I soon after took it since to some jam sessions in the city, and recorded it on songs.
In this post I will focus further on the question I opened with: is the triangle in reality cooler than we think?
I could have opted for a more ambitious essay or study of all “metal percussion”, but I try to control my megalomania (a common thread throughout my life, haha), or otherwise said: choosing in this instance “induction”, over “deduction”: starting with the small example, then widening/broadening its context (read: comparing with other percussion).
So first things first. How did I become more interested in triangles than I was before?
INTEREST
I use myself as example, not because I see myself as role model or some “leading guru”. See me in this case as an “experienced percussionist” as well as a “Reggae fan”.
Neither Afro-Cuban music, African music, or even Reggae, I always loved, are particularly known for the use of triangles. I rarely recall noticing it anyway, perhaps only on the song Road Foggy by Reggae artist Burning Spear (album Hail H.I.M.), without even realizing it was a triangle. And it was, in Road Foggy: a triangle hit on the One, every four measures. That high, clear sound did add to the song’s feel..
I associated the triangle as said with European classical music, but then was kind of surprised to recently find a “groovy” and “funky” use in Brazilian music, of multiple (African, Amerindian, and European) origin, namely the NE Brazilian Forró genre, some years ago. A cousin of mine, well into Afro-Brazilian culture, confirmed its groovy, rhythmical use in some Brazilian genres. That groovy use was to me then (only some years ago!) a pleasant surprise.
ORIGINS
Its “European” image notwithstanding, the earliest origins of the triangle, are clouded in history, but are most probably found in Ancient Egypt or the Middle East, connected with religious services. It first appearance in Europe was mentioned since the 14th c., first in Germany, but unlike other instruments we all know now: like the accordion, the harmonica, or tuba, it did not originate in the German-speaking world, or even elsewhere in Europe. It became more and more used, associated later with “Turkish” music, as some very vague “exoticism”.
The Islamic Turks (or Ottomans), conquering the Balkans and Greece since the late 15th c. were travelling conquerors, having taken also culture and aspects from other people. The metal and other percussion the Turks brought, were taken once from China, via Armenia, or other parts of Asia. Also the cymbals on our drum kits, have that ultimate origin (China), and cymbal making was also more a specialty of Armenians, rather than Turks, by the way. So the idea that Turks spread “their” music with the Ottoman empire – and other cultural aspects – to e.g. the Balkan region is too simplistic, since they took much from elsewhere.
Like the Arabs before them (who eventually converted the Turks to Islam), they switched from a nomadic focus, to conquering settlers, while taking cultural aspects from conquered peoples. The origin of the “guitar” is in Spain, but based on – they say – Persian models, Arabs took from Persia, to give a known example, reworked in what is now Spain, etcetera.
Much “metal” percussion that came to Europe through the Turks, have thus their origins in the Far East, mostly China, although the triangle has – as said- more probably a historical connection with Egypt (that the Turks also conquered by the 16th c. AD.), but its presence in Europe by the 14th c. points at a different flow, and relations to the ancient Egyptian (lithurgical) “sistrum”, which was also “rattle-like”. Not uninteresting, as the “castanets” – becoming typical of Spain – also were said to have ancient origins in Egypt. Castanets, however, spread less outside the Iberian peninsula (still mostly associated with Spanish folk culture), while the triangle was found wider in Europe, even non-Mediterranean parts.
The basic characteristics of the triangle became over the centuries more and more standardized since then in Europe, including the open corner.
TODAY
Today, the triangle is still used in Coptic (Orthodox) Christian Church services in Egypt – usually with cymbals - , a bit comparable to the use of the “sistrum” in the Ethiopian (Orthodox) Christian Church (also today). The sistrum was already used in Ancient Egypt, probably being the only known forebear to the triangle, adapted over time.
The triangle thus had and has partly a lithurgical use, but in Western classical music it obtained a musical, if quite “ceremonial” function, e.g. marking transitions in classical music pieces: an announcing, often atmospherically used instrument, and a bit less rhythmically, in pieces that either way lend more on harmony and melody than on rhythm.
This being said, in classical pieces by e.g. Giaochino Rossini (the well-known Wilhem Tell Overture), Offenbach’s equally well-known Can-Can (from Orpheus in the Underworld), some works by Franz Liszt, Ludwig von Beethoven, Igor Stravinsky (in his composition The Rite Of Spring), and Johannes Brahms, the triangle is used quite rhythmically but selectively, as well as by George Bizet or Strauss.
Other composers like Bach, Wagner, Debussy, and Mozart seem to use the triangle more in an atmospheric sense (referring to festivities), though in line with the rhythm. Tchaikovsky used the triangle in his well-known piece the Nutcracker. The Ode To Joy by Beethoven is another better-known piece, with the triangle at some points.
Mozart’s opera Die Entführung aus dem Serail (1782) figures the triangle as well in relation to then fashionable “Turkish” music: again all-too-vague exoticism, although Turkish musicians could have picked the triangle up after conquering Egypt (under the Ottoman empire).
So, several examples of triangle use in (European) classical pieces can be mentioned, but its use tend to be sparingly and selectively, though often significantly for the pieces' atmosphere.
FOLK MUSIC
There are of course some European classical instruments that can also be found in less high-brow, and really popular “folk” music, that I personally tend to like more (while I still appreciate some classical music and composers, especially of the Italian school, like Puccini, further Manuel De Falla, and also some works by Tchaikosky I appreciate).
The tuba - low horn - is an example, being either of German or, as some say, Roman origin, at times the violin (though the fiddle is more common in folk music), and even the cello, having e.g. a place in Tyrolean and Trentino (Northern Italy) Alpine folk music, not just in the “posh” concert halls. Also, the harp, and clarinet-like instruments are since long part of Celtic folk music, beyond concert halls.
Reasonably - perhaps ideally - that European classical music reflects (surrounding) European folk culture, with different influences: French, German(ic), Celtic, Italian, Spanish, Slavic, and Turkish.
I think the triangle’s role in folk music came about later, after being used in more classical contexts. Despite its practical size, the triangle after all requires a specialized manufacturing with metals, including iron, and a shape.
Its use in European folk music is found in certain Eastern European folk styles (Hungary and Poland) - including in the festive polka, including by Roma in e.g. Hungary, and also dance-oriented, such as in the Hungarian Csárdás genre. It can be – or used to be - found sometimes in Alpine regions (Austria, Bavaria, Switzerland). It is found (still, I understood) in some Spanish folk music (e.g. in rural Aragón, parts of Castile, and on the Balearic isles), Sardinia, and in Celtic music.
OUTSIDE OF EUROPE
Even more interesting: the triangle is nowadays used in Thai folk music (such as Luk Tung), often in festive settings. And in the Americas, such as in Peru..
In the US, its use is most common and crucial in Cajun and Zydeco music, especially traditional Cajun, as it developed in Louisiana under French, but also African influences. The accordion, fiddle, and triangle were the main instruments of this traditional Cajun, that would influence Country music, being thus not so originally “white” or “European” as many suppose. The fiddle, and later the accordion, remained the main instruments in both Zydeco and Cajun overall, even as it modernized, with also quite regularly the use of a triangle (especially when other percussion/rhythmic instruments are absent).
Also in Cuban music and salsa, it is said that the triangle is used sometimes, such as in Cuban Son and its precursors (such as Changüí), often adding to the clave or rhythmic foundation. It is however hardly a main instrument in most Cuban genres (rather string instruments, hand drums, cowbells, shakers, timbales, etc.) though, rather exceptionally used, although it has a musical function even in some folk contexts.
I have witnessed/attended quite some (mainly acoustic) live music performances in Cuba, especially Santiago de Cuba, - outdoors and in clubs - but do not recall seeing a triangle anywhere: “campanas” (cowbells) on the other hand often..
For these reasons, I could not really find online examples.
What I vaguely assumed seemed thus confirmed: one of the few genres outside of Europe – or in the Americas – where the “triangle” is really crucial musically – is in NE Brazilian Forró. The very genre that triggered my personal interest for the triangle in the first place.
FORRÓ
While Forró is I find very interesting, also historically, there is not much use in repeating what the Wikipedia article writes about this Northeastern Brazilian music genre. In short: Forró combines European/Portuguese influences with Amerindian and African ones, and knows several subgenres (e.g. Xaxado).
Very superficially – for people less knowledgeable about Brazilian music – Forró has some similarities with what became known as Lambada. Well danceable, and accordion-driven, with a nice, meandering rhythmic flow.
I became most intrigued with how the triangle became so basic in most Forró subgenres. It is also used in some other Brazilian genres, like in Bossa Nova or Samba, by the way, though hardly as standard as in most Forró.
The accordion (originally German, by the way), the Zabumba drum, and the Triangle, are all basic and standard in Forró, with sometimes variations or additions (fiddles instead of accordion, in some subgenres), yet the triangle seems to have secured its fixed place in Forró. This makes it probably nowadays the folk music genre wherein the triangle is most important, world wide. Interesting development for a probably Egyptian origin-instrument, in time Europeanized and “Turkified”, now relatively most common in rural (mixed-raced) NE Brazil.
For this reason, it was very easy to find nice examples of Triangle use in Brazilian Forró: bands performing, but also quite some instructional videos can be found online, as on Youtube (“playing triangle in Forró or Samba”, for instance), especially in Portuguese.
Some fellow-musicians I know dismiss such “online instrument lessons” as disguised ego trips of insecure men, but I find that a bit too strict. Sometimes an ego trip, yes, but sometimes it can also be a child-like enthusiasm getting the better of these adult instrument players, which I find more “cute” than annoying.
At the very least, even such online triangle playing lessons for Brazilian music, point at a living culture of the triangle instrument in Brazil, much less present in Europe now.
Triangle is in Portuguese written as Triângulo. Unlike Spanish (having accents only for emphasis indication), Portuguese has that â – a tiny roof on the Letter A – not for emphasis, but for pronunciation, like in French.
African retentions are there in Forró, in the big (low) Zabumba drum – marking the beat/rhythm - , in the general syncopation and polyrhythms, and also the triangle has a role in this, maintaining a steady pulse, similar to the cowbell or woodblock in other African or Afro-American genres.
Its role in Forró can further also be compared to that of the “rhythm guitar” in Reggae: a steady pulse in between the drum and bass, rendering similarly a syncopated groove.
For all these reasons I got to like the Brazilian genre Forró over time, though later than other Brazilian genres like Samba or Bossa Nova, partly also because of its intriguing – and original! -, “groovy” use of the triangle in it. It adds to the nice groove, in most Forró I heard.
Most triangles I see and hear used in Forró tend to be bigger than the one I have, but never mind that.
I am therefore willing to argue that, in answering the question I opened with: Brazilian Forró made the triangle “cool”.. At least for people who are into Black music, I imagine.
REGGAE
Not that the triangle is totally absent from other “Black” genres, including my beloved Reggae.
There are also examples of uses in Jazz, Soul, and other genres, adding to the whole mix. Stevie Wonder’s Love’s In Need Of Love Today being a fine example. Also artists like James Brown, or Isaac Hayes, tending to prefer several percussive layers, occasionally used the triangle in the mix, at times quite audibly.
Then we come to Reggae. Though not many sources refer to it, I found (from experience) some use of the triangle in several Reggae songs. Mostly “by ear”, as in album or song credits/liner notes, “percussion(s)” is seldom further specified.
Very good and noticeable use of the triangle is used in the song Road Foggy by Burning Spear, as released on his critically acclaimed (1980) Hail H.I.M. album. It really helps “shape” the song and its (rhythmic) flow, almost subconsciously..
More subtly (softer) in the mix, there is a triangle in Bob Marley songs, like Satisfy My Soul, Sun Is Shining, and Jamming, though you have to listen well. On Sun Is Shining (the Kaya version) it is most noticeable.
On occasion, in the “golden era” of Roots Reggae – roughly the 1970s and 1980s - , with artists like Culture, the Wailing Souls, Pablo Moses, Israel Vibration, Dennis Brown, Gregory Isaacs, Mighty Diamonds, and many others, the triangle in some songs can be heard somewhere in the mix, as part of percussion, sometimes quite deeply buried in the mix, as on the mentioned Bob Marley tunes. Also on some Linton Kwesi Johnson songs I seem to hear the triangle; maybe even on the classic song Street 66, though I am not sure whether the crucial metallic sound in this song is a high bell, or a big/low triangle.
Later Reggae songs by later artists, such as by Everton Blender (e.g. Backra), Mykal Rose, Sizzla, Tarrus Riley, Protoje, Luciano, or Richie Spice, occasionally added a triangle in the percussive whole, mostly to nice effect. This means that also in New Roots – as it is called – modern post-1990s Reggae, a triangle is often part of the percussionists’ set, and sometimes used. Mostly subtly accentuating the rhythm, and at times atmospheric. Sometimes it’s audible, other times you need a specialized headset or speaker system to catch it, but it’s high metal tone has a function in the piece.
In Road Foggy it emphasizes the One, after every 4 drum measures, - in an interesting interchange with the rattle/vibraslap. A similar role it had in other Reggae songs..
Overall, the triangle is used much less when compared to much more commonly used, almost “standard” percussion instruments in Reggae, such as the cabasa shaker, the vibraslap, tambourine, scrapers, wood or jam “blocks”, cowbells, and of course hand drums. Even the tubular metal bar chimes (in many standard percussion sets, nowadays), while not overly common in particularly Reggae, are heard relatively a bit more than triangles.
There are of course enough exceptions to this rule within Reggae, of even songs with audible and functional triangle use in Reggae Riddims (instrumental parts), such as on Mykal Rose’s recent song Tribal War, with the high brilliance of the triangle nicely woven throughout this song.
Another example of a song I liked, in which I did not even notice the triangle at first, is Bushman's Creatures Of The Night, even quite steadibly and audibly throughout the song, subtly adding to the flow. The rest of the song and its groove (and percussion) is already good, but the triangle certainly adds texture to this Bushman song.
It further shows that triangles are used with different types of lyrics, also within Reggae: both "merry" or "mellow" songs like Sun Is Shining, as more "protest" or "lamentation" tunes like the mentioned Mykal Rose (Tribal War), and Bushman (Creatures Of The Night) examples.
Percussion use differs of course from Reggae album to Reggae album, which is interesting by itself, as they seem to relate to both artistic choices, and practical ones: the triangle is - resuming - not very common among it, but neither absent.
ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM
This brings me to the proverbial “elephant” in the room we were dancing around: the sonic characteristics of the triangle. This is after all the reasons for its use, or eventual added value (or not). What does the specific sound of the triangle (high, clear) add to other percussion instruments, especially metallic ones?
Especially that high, clear sound, and unspecified note/tone. Melodically you cannot do much with it, rhythmically and “atmospherically” all the more. The latter we find in mentioned pieces by some renowned European classical and symphonic composers (Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Bach), but also in some Reggae songs, where the rhythm and percussion is already quite full, but adding atmosphere, such as on Bob Marley’s Sun Is Shining on the Kaya album.
Other Reggae artists use the triangle also more rhythmically. More rhythmically, but also adding to the feel, it tends to accentuate drum patterns, especially its starting, therefore mostly on the One of the measure. Often not too regularly (every 4 drum measures, mostly), yet playing a role. This might be precisely because of its high, distinctive, “clear” sound – cutting through other sounds -, within the whole, compared to other instruments.
MATERIAL
From a “material” perspective it is also interesting to point out, that “metal” is a broad term: you have iron, copper, brass/bronze (most Asian/Chinese gongs), aluminum, and steel, being an alloy of iron), with all distinct sonic characteristics.
Brass - in essence an alloy of copper with zinc - is of all the metals the most used in musical instruments. We know brass from its use for trumpets and other horns. Brass is however also used relatively a lot in percussion, due to its bright, often warm and resonant tone, and possibilities. Steel is - besides for steel guitar strings - however also used in some metal percussion: of course the "steel drum", but e.g. also in the double bell the Agogo (Yoruba/African, Afro-Brazilian) Even "iron", though with less sonic possibilities, is used sometimes. "Bronze" (an alloy of copper, with tin) is more durable than brass, and is for instance used for cymbals, as is even sometimes silver..
This is mostly in instruments manufactured in the Western world, which in this time also includes originally African instruments made in Western factories (with tropical materials), as the djembe, or Afro-Caribbean instruments like the Conga and Bongó (both in origin from Cuba, with Central African precursors), in which the “big” US-based percussion company LP (Latin percussion) was and is important.
African cowbells, locally made, can also be made of steel, but also from forged iron or metal scrap, but still adapted for flexibility regarding musical demands.
The topic of this post, the triangles, tend mostly to be made of steel and brass (often combined, emphasis on steel), resulting in a high, brilliant sound, cutting through other sounds, but with medium-length resonance: often longer resonance than pure iron or steel, yet less than brass.
I now dived like the Yoruba deity Oggun (of a.o. metallurgy and “iron”) into metallurgy and metal use. In a recent musical piece by myself, about that deity, I added for this symbolic reason to the drum patterns associated with Oggun (or Ogun) the triangle, to complete it. I kept this particular composition relatively sober and empty, so you hear well how my trangle sounds.
Such rhythms in (African) Yoruba-related belief systems (also in “the West”: Cuba, Haiti, Trinidad, and Brazil), serve to evoke the respective spirit/deity, by the way, making them musically, and for some maybe even spiritually interesting.
An interesting question is when this sound is appropriate in a musical piece. This question is however unanswerable, as it is up to each individual artist’s choices. Classical composers like Mozart or Debussy used the triangle atmospherically and a bit transitional/rhythmic: not really throughout or intensely. Soul, Jazz, or Fusion artists tend to combine those feels (atmosphere and rhythm), “filling up” the whole, so to speak.
In Reggae its use tend to be rhythmic, especially in an accentuating, pace-setting way. Other metal percussion instruments are used more to “embellish” or for atmosphere in Reggae songs, notably the flexatone or bells.
CONCLUSION
What can be concluded – or “induced” – from all this? Well, that the triangle has made an interesting journey in this world: Westernized toward orchestral classical music by European composers, yet probably adapted from an (Ancient) Egyptian origin. The triangle left some traces in certain European folk music genres, most standard in Hungary, but elsewhere too, in some Asian ones, such as in Thailand and Indonesia (at times connected to Gamelan ensembles), but most notably in the Americas, in the Cajun genre (French Creole-influenced) in Louisiana, the US. Cajun influenced in part Country.
Even more so, and with a more basic, standard role, in parts of Latin America, especially in the Forró genre in Northeastern Brazil, and genres influenced by it in Brazil (on occasion Samba or Bossa Nova).
In the “pop” or “rock” world (incl. Soul, Jazz, Reggae, Country, Funk, Hip Hop) etcetera, its use is present, yet exceptional, and differing per artist and album, preferences and choices of (added) percussion, and there are examples of triangle use in certain songs by well-known artists like the Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Herbie Hancock, or Joni Mitchell (her “hit” song Big Yellow Taxi: with the sampled line: “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone..”).
The problem is that liner notes of albums or songs rarely go into more detail, by specifying the type of percussion, so one has to find out “by ear”.
Either way, the triangle has gained a steady place in “world percussion”, and while seemingly “Westernized/Europeanized” in some stage, it did become over time convincingly “multicultural” (as much other percussion), and crossed boundaries.
The genre wherein the triangle nowadays is used most, as a standard, or even “carrying” instrument, is - after all - Brazilian Forró, mixing European, African, and Amerindian influences into a “groovy” whole.
