Discovering the Neolithic shell trumpets of Catalonia
By Miquel López Garcia
Since I was a child, a large conch shell has sat in our bathroom. Its purpose? Purely decorative. And its place? Naturally, the most “aquatic” spot in the house — so the shell could feel at home. I never really wondered about its story, and I certainly never imagined it could make music… until I started learning trumpet at music school when I was seven years old. That’s when my father casually mentioned that people used to use shells like this to “play music”.
At first, I failed spectacularly. My technique was terrible, and of course, the shell was nowhere near as comfortable as a modern trumpet. But after much practice and effort, I managed to coax a sound — and eventually a proper tone — from it. In fact, it was so loud that my parents quickly realized letting their child practice freely on this horn might not have been their best idea ever…
The shell trumpet that I first played as a child.
This little story connects directly to what I want to share in this blog: my research on Neolithic shell trumpets from Catalonia, carried out with ICREA Research Professor Dr Margarita Díaz-Andreu during the final year of her ERC Artsoundscapes project. First, I had to learn how to play these ancient instruments. Second, it was the shell in my bathroom that first sparked my curiosity. And third, realizing so late that this “decorative” shell could actually produce sound — even be played as a musical instrument — reminded me of what so often happens in museums. Objects like shell trumpets, once powerful sound-makers, are too often neglected, misidentified, or simply left in silence.
The research on the Neolithic shells of Catalonia builds on the discovery of two Charonia lampas shells in the Neolithic mines of Gavà, found three decades ago and identified as trumpets (Villalba et al. 1986). More shells were uncovered in the years that followed. The idea of experimenting with how they might have sounded emerged in the 2000s, but it wasn’t until 2014 that serious work began. Dr Jordi Nadal, along with researchers from the Museu de la Música de Barcelona, Museu de Gavà, and the Vinseum, initiated the project. Unfortunately, despite the great efforts put in at the time, the project could not be completed and remained unpublished. Changes in software, computer systems, retirements, and other setbacks led to the loss of some of the results
In 2021, Jordi Nadal approached Margarita Díaz-Andreu and shared the details of the unfinished project. Marga tells me how amazed she felt — what an incredible opportunity for her ERC Artsoundscapes project to connect with local archaeology! Due to Covid-related travel restrictions, fieldwork was difficult, so the project had temporarily shifted its focus to studying sound and music as expressed in rock art. As a result, the project produced several articles on dance and musical instruments in Levantine art (in Zephyrus and OJA) and in Southern Africa (in Azania, Telestes, and JMA).
The potential of investigating musical instruments from the time when the Levantine paintings were created in the Eastern part of the Iberian Peninsula quickly became clear. However, for her finding the right person to lead this part of the project wasn’t easy — and this is where I came in. With permission granted by the original research team, contacted through Jordi Nadal, we were able to move forward and begin our work.
Playing a shell trumpet from Mas d’en Boixos at the Vinseum (Vilafranca del Penedès). Photograph by Margarita Díaz-Andreu.
Half of the twelve known Neolithic shell trumpets come from the Gavà Neolithic variscite mines. On our first visit to the Museum of Gavà, Josep Bosch — the museum curator and one of the scholars who knows the mines best — showed us the various fragments stored in the museum attic. Sunlight streamed through the windows, highlighting the warm colours of the shells. To be honest, I was a little nervous. Imagine being a trumpet player allowed to play an instrument that could very well be the great-great-grandparent of yours — a privilege and a responsibility at the same time. After the first sounds, made under Dr. Bosch’s supervision, staff from nearby rooms — and eventually the museum director — came to see and hear what was happening. The same thing happened later at the museum in my hometown, Mataró, where I tested a remarkably well-preserved Iberian shell trumpet.
Josep Bosch (left) and Miquel López (right) during the first examination of the shell trumpets at the Museum of Gavà. Photograph by Margarita Díaz-Andreu.
Examining the shell trumpets and possible fragments in the new facilities of Vinseum (Vilafranca del Penedès).
The second group of previously known trumpets, from Mas d’en Boixos, are kept in the recently renovated Vinseum, a museum in Vilafranca del Penedès (which, despite its name, holds archaeological and ethnological collections, as it began as a municipal museum before later shifting its focus to wine). Jordi Farré, the museum curator, welcomed us warmly and proudly showed off the fantastic new research facilities. On my first visit, he invited me to see the permanent exhibition—only for a blackout to strike just as I entered the second room. So, the permanent exhibition tour is still pending. At the Vinseum, as in Gavà, we organized three visits: first, to inspect the specimens; second, to examine them under a microscope; and third, to carry out the acoustic measurements, the main focus of our project.
For the acoustic tests, we needed a controlled environment with minimal echoes and background noise. That meant avoiding noisy activities and visitors, and finding the perfect spot inside the museums. At the Vinseum, this led to us clapping and singing our way through every room — I’m pretty sure more than one staff member thought we’d lost our minds.
Removing the display case protecting the shell trumpet from Cova de l’Or at the Museu Municipal de Molins de Rei.
Similar expeditions took place at our faculty, for the Cal Pere Pastor shell trumpet, and at the Museu Municipal de Molins de Rei, for the well-preserved specimen from Cova de l’Or. At the latter institution, we needed the help of specialists from KuanUm to remove the delicate glass cover of the exhibition stand. In this case, as in Mataró, the best recording spot was also the least visually appealing: storage rooms full of old displays, computers, and cleaning supplies — perfect natural sound absorbers. We didn’t face this issue at the Museu d’Història de Barcelona (MUHBA), where Núria Miró helped us study the Espalter I trumpet, since it couldn’t be played due to a large breakage.
Testing the shell trumpet from la Cova de l’Or at the Museu Municipal de Molins de Rei.
But probably the most extraordinary recording session took place over two days in three of the mining galleries at the Archaeological Park of the Mines of Gavà. Realizing we had an incredible opportunity to play original Neolithic instruments in an original Neolithic space, we decided to test how audible the shell trumpets were inside the mines and whether they might have played a role in mining activities. We conducted the experiment under the supervision of the museum staff. Playing the instruments there was simply breathtaking. The experience of entering those dark, humid galleries reminded us how vital sound must have been in extractive work during the Neolithic era. Although the galleries aren’t suitable for people with vertigo and some members of our team felt a bit uneasy, the visit itself was spectacular, with dramatic shafts and rock formations.
And yes, my neighbours may not be thrilled — my renewed interest in practising the shell trumpet at home has brought back some very loud mornings — but I promise I’ll restore the peace and quiet once this research is over.
The first outcome of this project is now available in an article in Antiquity.