|My favorite whistles! Made by Hildegard Schemehl, who can be found on the interwebs here.|
Traditionally, Easter Monday corresponded with the celebration of the Guild of Potters that used to take place outside of église Saint Michel, and there is a 1827 document that references a market in front of the church, and recommends that it be moved to marché aux poissions, but there seems to be no reference to the bird whistles being particular to that market at that time (more info). The modern market is huge, spilling out of Fëschmaart into Kneudler and the streets surrounding them and Place d’Armes, and it lasts all day, so since I live downtown, I hear the chirping whistles from dawn to dusk, which I think is quite lovely, even if it does prevent the full enjoyment of a holiday Monday afternoon nap.
The whistles are called péckvillchen, and I’m told that the more typical one is a water whistle, that is has a vessel that is filled with water and sounds like a chirping songbird, though it seems that most of the potters today seem to make ocarina-like coucous, that are played dry and have a couple of tones.
I met a potter once on Vancouver Island, I forget his name (edit: I think it was Victor Dufffhues of JoVic Pottery in Chemainus, and wether it was him or not, I have a mug of his that I love to pieces), but when I told him I work in glass, he told me that that he though that all potters are frustrated glass artists… I think the inverse applies to glass artists, at least to me, and going to stuff like this makes me feel it all the more. So I should probably learn to use ceramics. Then I will say I’m an artist who works with fire, which would be awesome.