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Sue Massek Project - Blog #3 - Which Side Are You On and The Death of Harry Simms

“Well, that didn’t go how I thought it would,” is an apt statement to describe 2024. Back in October I started a multi-month cold, around the same time Sue lost someone very close to her, and the rest of the year felt like an uncontrolled tumble down a steep hill. With all that in mind, it’s not surprising I’ve felt a bit lost here lately. 

I’ve continued the work. Practicing, band rehearsals, dug out song lyrics, decided on new arrangements, etc. I haven’t done much songwriting, but it’s always never far from my mind. I’ve felt myself metaphorically grinding an axe, being deliberate in honing my craft, but to what end? What do I need to do? What *am* I doing? 

This past week I got a gentle reminder what it’s about for me. What I’m about. That I have a voice. And a banjo. I ain’t afraid to use ‘em. As we ramp up 2025, that work becomes critical. Right now, more than ever, folks are picking fights with each other. Folks don’t understand we’re all working class folks. Regardless of which side we choose, all we have are each other. 

I’m taking Cowan Creek Mountain Music School’s winter session, specifically “Songs of Kentucky” with Anna Roberts-Gevalt. This week, we got into some of the work of Aunt Molly Jackson and Jim Garland, specifically “The Death of Harry Simms,” also Florence Reece’s “Which Side Are You On?” and followed it up by watching a documentary on Sarah Ogan Gunning. Dreadful Memories, the story of Sarah Ogan Gunning by Mimi Pickering which I believe is available on YouTube through Appalshop. I had watched it fairly recently, but was ready for a rewatch and honestly, I could probably stand to watch it a few more times. 

It may be a little strange with this blog being about working with Sue, this coming up in Anna’s class, but Sue is my connection to the Garland family including Sarah Ogan Gunning, so it makes sense to me because I learned about so much of this from Sue. 

So let’s get to it. 

“Which Side Are You On?” warrants its own blog, but I think we can look more broadly at what was going on to create these songs which are painfully relevant today. Here’s a clip of Florence Reece talking about the song, writing it in 1931, and singing a little bit of it. J. H. Blair was the sheriff. 

For just the song as sung by Florence Reece, you can find that here.

“Which Side Are You On?” is one of the first songs I learned from Sue. She told us that Florence Reece’s house got shot up by gun thugs. While she was hiding under the bed, she pulled the calendar off the wall and wrote the song. 

Here are the lyrics as I learned them from Sue:

Come all of you good workers

Good news to you I’ll tell

Of how that good old union

Has come in here to dwell

Chorus:

Which side are you on? 

Which side are you on?

Which side are you on? 

Which side are you on? 

My daddy was a miner 

And I’m a miner’s son

And I’ll stick with the union

Till every battle’s won

They say in Harlan County

There are no neutrals there

You’ll either be a union man

Or a thug for J.H. Blair

Oh, workers can you stand it?

Oh, tell me how you can

Will you be a lousy scab

Or will you be a man?

Don’t scab for the bosses

Don’t listen to their lies

Us poor folks haven’t got a chance 

Unless we organize

You don’t have to search very hard to find modern artists performing this song with their own updated lyrics and I have no doubt it will get another face lift in 2025. In fact, I really like this version from Dawn Landes released in 2024 on her fantastic Liberated Woman’s Songbook album.

I couldn’t find a handy recording of Sue singing “Which Side are You On?” but here’s a clip of Sue performing Aunt Molly Jackson’s “I Am a Union Woman” which uses a similar melody. The video has it labeled as Join the NMU. This was part of a play Sue starred in about the life of Sarah Ogan Gunning. Her banjo treatment is just 🔥. 

Aunty Molly Jackson and Jim Garland wrote “The Death of Harry Simms” and the song was popularized by Pete Seeger, so I’m going to go ahead and link Seeger’s version if you want to listen before we get into it. 

So, what was happening to cause these songs? 

The University of Kentucky (UK) has a more detailed write up here about the mining strikes in Bell and Harlan County, Kentucky in general with some videos, but I will try to summarize a bit. You can access their page here though: https://appalachiancenter.as.uky.edu/coal-strike/background-coal-strike 

In 1931-1932, when these songs were written, things were a mess for the coal miners in Kentucky. Back then, coal companies ran company towns. Folks who worked in the mines lived in company provided houses, so when the coal industry went bust with the Great Depression (started in 1929), folks lost everything including their homes. People were starving because there wasn’t any food (the Dust Bowl started in 1930) and the miners went on strike trying to improve conditions. Times were desperate. 

Meanwhile, the coal companies hired a private militia who were then deputized by the local sheriff’s office or authority. These are the “gun thugs” in the songs and they had three primary functions. 1) It was their job to protect the mines and the scabs so the work could continue. 2) Because the coal company owned the houses when someone was fired or otherwise let go, it was the gun thugs job to run people out of the housing. 3) They were there to intimidate folks and try and make the miners compliant, such as by shooting up Florence Reece’s house. The second video on the UK page points out that deputizing the thugs blurred the lines between the private and public sectors. The coal companies, the gun thugs, and the sheriff’s office were all on the same side even though as Florence Reece points out, the scabs and the gun thugs are workers too.

The UK page explains that the miners and their families felt abandoned by the United Mine Workers of America (U.M.W.A.), which created an opportunity for the growing American Communist Party in the U.S. to send a representative of their own union, the National Miners Union or N.M.U. The song references recruiting people for the N.M.U. and getting volunteers for the Y.C.L., the Youth Communist League. So, the N.M.U. sent Harry Simms as a representative to try and help organize the miners. Simms stayed with Jim Garland who was active with the communist group. The UK pages point out that communism was viewed as a fresh idea and the Cold War hadn’t happened yet, which I think is important to remember. 

Things escalated considerably after Harry Simms arrived and Simms was killed by one of the deputized gun thugs. He was only 19 years old. 

Here is Jim Garland’s recording of the song with lyrics below.

Comrades listen to my story

Workers listen to my song

I'll tell you of a hero

Who’s now dead and gone

I'll tell you of a worker

Whose age was just nineteen

He was the strongest union man

That ever I have seen

Harry Simms he was a pal of mine

We labored side by side

Expecting to be shot on sight

Or taken for a ride

By a dirty capitalist gun thug

Who roam from town to town

To shoot and kill our comrades

Where e'er they may be found

Harry Simms and I was parted

At five o’clock that day

"Be careful, my dear comrade"

To Harry I did say

"Now I must do my duty"

Was his reply to me

“If I get killed by gun thugs

Please don't grieve after me"

Just remain a faithful worker, 

Dear comrades, do be wise

Remain a faithful worker, 

Dear comrades, do be wise

Help destroy this rotten system

Don’t fail to organize

He was walking up the railroad track

One bright sunshiny day

He was young and handsome

His steps was light and gay

He did not know the gun thugs

Was a waitin’ on the way

To take our dear young comrade’s life

That bright sunshiny day

Harry Simms was killed on Brush Creek

In nineteen and thirty-two

He organized the miners

In the good ol’ N.M.U.

He fought for the union

That was all that he could do

He died for the union,

Also for me and you.

Now comrades, we must vow today

That one thing we must do

We’ll organize all the miners

In the good ol’ N.M.U.

We’ll get a million volunteers for the Y.C.L.

And sink this rotten system 

In the deepest pits of hell

I can’t tell anyone how to feel about these songs, but I can tell you how I feel about them and what they mean to me.

I believe they're still incredibly powerful and there's so much going on today relevant to what happened back then. To me they’re a reminder of how quickly things can get bad. That whichever side we choose matters and that our actions have consequences. It’s a reminder that everyone has forgotten that we’re mostly all working class and should be on the same side despite our differences. But maybe I'm just an idealist. So, which side are you on? 

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Sue Massek Project - Blog #2 - Loving Nancy

Okay, we need to talk about “Loving Nancy.” When Sue asked me to apprentice with her, I’m pretty sure I awkwardly blurted out that I wanted to learn her version of this song. Sue recorded this song on her 2015 release, Precious Memories. The album utilizes songs she arranged for a one woman play she starred in on the life of Sarah Ogan Gunning.

I listen to music voraciously so I’m always cautious about saying I don’t know a song or when I first heard a song, but I remember doing a double take when I bought this album from Sue and this track played. The song was very strange to me because although it’s told from the perspective of the male, it’s a tragic song that acknowledges Nancy has no agency in the story it tells and as such, her heart breaks. While loving someone who doesn’t love you back isn’t unusual in ballads, the set up of this one just struck me as strange. There’s clear elements of being a work song and some of the ideas point to it being a very old ballad retrofitted into a new location. It's an odd 'I have a girl back home, but she probably hates me I don't care' kind of song. (Ballad experts feel free to weigh in here.) 

Have a listen to Sarah’s version before we go any further. This is on her album Girl of Constant Sorrow, available here: https://folkways.si.edu/sarah-ogan-gunning/girl-of-constant-sorrow 

Sarah’s version.

The album liner notes are available online here: https://folkways-media.si.edu/docs/folkways/artwork/FLG00026-LP.pdf  Thank you, Smithsonian Folkways. In particular, this is what the notes say about “Loving Nancy” on page 8:

Sarah, while very young, learned a number of songs from her mother, Sarah Elizabeth Lucas Garland, from “Lizzie’s” sisters, and their children. Such pieces were known to the Lucases for many generations and were brought directly from the British Isles or absorbed from other Anglo-American singers in Kentucky. This particular variant of “Loving Nancy” is not found in standard collections; however the text is transcribed (brochure) by Betty Garland from her own singing in her 1964 Folkways album.

Since Nancy is a most common ballad name, it is difficult to place the “Lucas” variant in a specific ballad family. “Farewell Charming Nancy” (Laws K 14) has the hero steer his boat to the East Indies; Sarah’s hero street his boat to New Alena (Orleans). Jim Garland has suggested to his daughter Betty that Kentucky men who rafted logs out of the mountains sang “Loving Nancy.” Perhaps we see here an ocean voyage localized to a trip down the Ohio-Mississippi. Before this piece is placed directly in the “Farewell Charming Nancy” category, one must note that Sarah’s song ends with Nancy’s death by heartbreak, exactly like many heroines in “William and Nancy II” (Laws P 5). Normally one would assume Sarah’s song to be spliced out of these two ballads. However, her intervening stanzas contain commonplaces which appear elsewhere. I cite only the “write a fine hand” reference in Sharp’s “Pretty Saro” and the “salmon” reference in Creighton’s “Pretty Polly.” This latter figure suggests both the theme of animal disguises to escape pursuit in “The Two Magicians” (Child 44), and the imagery of chase and conquest in the amatory “Hares on the Mountain” collected by Sharp and others in England (Dean-Smith). 

Betty Garland, American Folk Ballads, Folkways 2307.

I’m going to travel the wilderness through,

Therefore, loving Nancy, I’ll bid you adieu.

I’m going to travel a many a long mile,

Therefore, loving Nancy, I’ll leave you for a while.

Down in New Alena my boat I will steer

And the face of many pretty girls I see on the shore.

But the face of a Spaniard I’d never adore,

Go back to Kentucky, try Nancy once more.

I wish I was a clerks man, could write a fine hand,

I’d write my love a letter that she’d understand.

I’d send it on water that’d never overflow,

Go back to Kentucky, try Nancy once more.

I wish I was a fisherman down by the seaside

And Nancy was a salmon come floating on the tide.

I’d throw my net around her and bring her to shore,

Go back to Kentucky, try Nancy once more. 

Loving Nancy, loving Nancy, I have returned home,

I always did love you and for your sake mourned.

We’re going to get married, I doubt for your sake.

I threw my arms around her, and felt her heart break.

Anyone else bothered that they called the narrator the hero? Yikes.

I looked up Farewell, Charming Nancy and the vibes seem quite different. The song is described as: "The sailor bids his sweetheart farewell. She does not wish to part, and offers to go with him. He tells her that she simply is not strong enough for life at sea. They part sadly. Some texts warn girls against trusting sailors[.]" You can read the notes here: https://balladindex.org/Ballads/LK14.html

Betty Garland’s version can be found here, if you’d like to listen:

Betty’s version remains available through Smithsonian Folkways here: https://folkways.si.edu/betty-garland/american-folk-ballads/music/album/smithsonian

Betty's version seems strangely optimistic to me after listening to Sue's version for so many years.

The liner notes say regarding this song: 

Lovin’ Nancy is an old mountain folk song, have no record of it ever coming out of England, it has been our family since before the Civil War and it has been considered by our family that it was composed by our grandfather Wilson Lucas or I should say my great grandfather or one of his songs who were all singers. This song although it says “my boat I will stir”, would be be more correct if it said, “down to the Ohio my log raft I will stir”, because these men who rafted logs down the Kentucky river sand this song and this was before there was any railroads in the mountains. Have never heard it sung by anyone but the Garland family and was handed down to me from my father Jim Garland and to him from his mother Elizabeth Lucas Garland who learned it from her father Wilson Lucas.

The notes go on to include the lyrics. I will note, the New Alena line is different. “It’s down to New Orleans my boat I will stir.” 

Sue’s version can be found online here:

Sue plays in a thumb lead 2 finger style, which she indicates she learned this style from Blanche Coldiron. Sarah Ogan Gunning borrowed from the melody of this song for her famous song “Come All You Coal Miners” which Sue’s band, Reel World String Band, does. In order to keep them separate, Sue plays “Loving Nancy” in a 2 finger style while she does “Come All You Coal Miners” in a clawhammer style. 

Here's Sarah singing “Come All You Coal Miners" if you'd like to compare melodies.

As the Smithsonian notes indicate, a quick search of “Loving Nancy” will get you songs more akin to other songs. Dock Boggs version reminds me of the “Waggoner’s Lad” or “Pullin’ Away” though there’s some overlap with the lyrics.

The full liner notes can be found here: https://folkways-media.si.edu/docs/folkways/artwork/FW03903.pdf

Dock says he got the song from a neighbor woman named Holbrook when he was living in Mayking. He changed the tune in 1965 which is what’s on the recording. 

The original text of this song was written on lined tablet paper headed ‘Ballad of Loving Nancy Aug. 22, 1904 Leslie (or Lester) Ky.’ Dock adds that he thinks Mistress Holbrooks’ grandmother (born 1878) sang this song.

In picking apart Sue’s version, I’ve been describing the structure as A, B, B, A. The A line is low and the B line is high. (I'm sure this is improper and I don't care.) It’s ultimately, just a few measures of melody. While the haunting sound of sawmill is apparent, Sue actually plays this song in standard G tuning due to the play. She wanted to avoid retuning on stage. 

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Sue Massek Project - Blog #1

I probably should’ve written all of this a month or maybe two ago. While I was very good at documenting my musical escapades prior to the pandemic… I’ve failed to resume that activity once the world started turning again. I did write a blog in 2022 about my first experience with Cowan Creek Mountain Music School, but instead of posting it I got COVID. I want to apologize because there’s been plenty to report all along. 

Photo of our class in 2022.

In June of 2023, I was at Cowan Creek Mountain Music School again. Sue Massek asked me if I would be interested in being her next apprentice under the Kentucky Folklife program run by the Kentucky Arts Council. I agreed, we applied, and we were approved to proceed. We had our first meeting in July, which was some songwriting swapping, stories with Sue, and plotting. 

Jessie Northridge, Sue Massek, and me on the right.

I figured I should probably write up how I met Sue and since I’ve had some blogs travel farther than I expected, I’m going to start at the very beginning. 

***My Story***

I grew up in the Nashville, Tennessee area. When I was about 8 years old, my school got a Suzuki violin program. I brought the flyer home and asked permission. My parents came home the next day with a small violin. 

While we, of course, learned orchestral music, we were in Nashville. I learned how to fiddle as a child and we also learned about what we called string band music. I almost never heard the terms bluegrass or old time. Being in Nashville, we had professionals with the Nashville Symphony Orchestra visit us along with touring musicians who played in country music bands.

Me with my first violin. It was clearly a little big, but I grew into it.

***Appalachian Music***

It wasn’t until I was an adult I started to unpack the tangle of traditions I had been brought up in, musically speaking. I suppose I thought everyone got handed a mountain dulcimer at some point, and plenty of families had musical traditions that involved forming a band, and how those Appalachian traditions intermingled into *Nashville* itself. I'm not mountain folk. But I now see how interwoven Appalachian traditions are into what I learned as a child and what I do now as an adult.

***Moving to Kentucky***

I wound up in Kentucky when I went to Transylvania University to study Applied Music and Teaching Music. Unfortunately, I only got to teach music in the public schools a short while. The Kentucky legislature changed the rules while I was wrapping up my degree forcing teachers to get a masters degree. After two years my certification expired and the only way to renew it was to enroll in a masters program. The universities weren’t set up to support online learning yet or really working teachers. I had struggled with my true education classes, so getting a masters in education seemed very daunting, which was my only option as a working teacher. I also wasn’t keen on amassing more student debt, so I resigned.

***Finding a Place in Corporate Learning***

I took a part time retail job thinking I would do that while I figured it out and it wasn’t long before I was a corporate trainer. I had found a new niche. I didn’t play music for a while as it was so painful. In many ways I felt like I had failed, but looking back on things I’m outraged over how the state created their own teacher shortage. The state has since undone their requirement, but my thoughts on all of it are a whole separate blog.

I was a traveling trainer for a number of years and started playing music on my own. Once my travel winded down with corporate changes, I joined the Heartland Dulcimer Club which connected me with more Appalachian music circles. 

Photo of me playing with the Heartland Dulcimer Club in Elizabethtown, Kentucky.

In 2013, I started a masters degree in Training and Development with emphasis in eLearning through the University of Saint Francis. I did the degree program entirely online. At points I was working full time, a full time graduate student, and serving on two non-profit boards. (I tend to have fruitful and fallow seasons. I was clearly in a strong fruitful season.)

***Meeting Sue***

In 2014, I signed up for Kentucky Music Week which is a wonderful event every summer in Bardstown, Kentucky run by the amazing Nancy Johnson Barker. (If you are a mountain or hammered dulcimer player, you must go!) KMW offers 5 possible classes a day. I signed up for 5 classes and one of them was a beginning old time banjo class with Sue Massek. My husband had a banjo he didn't play, so I borrowed it and off I went.

For one of my university classes I had to do a research project and write a paper. I had selected Highlander Folk School as I’ve been past its current location in Tennessee and frankly, didn’t know much about it. It was a harder topic as there’s comparatively less published on the subject than say Dale Carnegie. 

***Highlander Folk School***

I was fascinated by what I learned. Highlander Folk School was founded by Myles Horton in 1932. Back in his day mountain folk were called highlanders. His vision was of a place where community members could come together to learn and work together to solve problems. Drawing inspiration from the Danish folk school system, Horton eventually organized workshops around topics so you had the right people in the room to work through problems together. Highlander Folk School was instrumental in the labor union movement and the civil rights movement. 

Sue had indicated on her artist bio that she had frequented Highlander Folk School, so I wanted to talk to her about it. We were already almost to the end of the week on Thursday when I got up the courage to ask. Sue had given us a moment to practice on our own which also allowed her a chance to help anyone one on one. Imagine a room with 15 or so banjo players all playing at once, but not in unison. While she was free, I asked Sue about Highlander Folk School. She asked me if I had been. I said no and explained my research paper. She looked thoughtful and said, “One time Rosa Parks was my roommate.” The room was instantly silent and I’ll never forget someone in the back said, “What?” While we all learn about Rosa Parks in school, what we don’t learn is that she was trained in passive resistance at a workshop at Highlander Folk School. Sue told us about her experience rooming with Rosa Parks. 

A few things happened that day. While I didn’t know much about Sue prior to that week, I started the process to learn more. I also went and bought an open back banjo because I was absolutely hooked on the instrument. 

Over the next ten years, I would take classes with Sue any chance I got. Each time I learn something new and she tells amazing stories about her incredible life.

Me, Sue, and Mr. Barrett after a KMW class in 2018.

***Apprenticeship***

I think everyone else who has apprenticed with Sue over the years was aspiring to be a professional musician, which is not the case with me. I have a day job that I love, but I am active in the musical community. While I’ve been on hiatus from the Heartland Dulcimer Club for a few years now (I missed them!), I’m currently serving on the Louisville Folk School board and will likely seek somewhere to start teaching group classes again once I finish my apprenticeship. I've also been aspiring to record an album, something I've willingly slow walked as more time means more original songs to work with.

For the project, I have a number of songs I want to learn from Sue that we've somehow missed over the years. I'm also digitizing some of Sue's personal recordings from over the years so we can make them available. I expect I'll be blogging about them here as I get them uploaded. Sue is an amazing songwriter, so songwriting is in the mix too.

[hessbynum]

Homer Ledford Dulcimer Festival August 30-31, 2019

I never met Homer Ledford, though he was still around when I lived in Winchester, Kentucky. It was several years later that I found my way into dulcimer circles. But, having sat next to Bill Johnson in many banjo workshops it was impossible for me to remain unaware of Mr. Ledford’s legacy. His artistry as an instrument maker is apparent and those who knew him speak lovingly of him. I’ve been aware of the Homer Ledford Dulcimer Festival for a few years. I’ve always had a scheduling conflict, but this year I was able to attend. You can learn more and follow updates on this festival here: http://homerledforddulcimerfestival.com

We had a rough drive in, but made it in time for Don Pedi’s presentation at the Bluegrass Heritage Museum Friday evening. Don shared a bit of his journey from growing up near Boston and the path that led him to where he lives now in North Carolina. He shared many of his influences, how he approaches the dulcimer, and his dedication to preserving traditional music. He talked about learning by jamming, his preference to ‘work with constraints,’ and learning tunes. After the talk, we were wiped out from the drive in, so Erik and I got some dinner and went back to the hotel. There were several videos posted of the jams that evening on Facebook.

Having never attended, I wasn’t too sure what to expect. My goals were simple though. I wanted to see as many different teachers I’ve not taken a workshop with as I could. I wanted to get some dulcimer time in and hope for progress. Since I’m teaching ukulele classes, it’s a good time to attend workshops to get new ideas. (I become conscious of how self taught I am on ukulele sometimes.) And I wanted to sing.

First I attended John Keane’s blues for ukulele class. He taught 12-bar blues, which I’ve not messed with on uke. It fits beautifully and the class worked well for a variety of levels. I enjoyed John’s approach.

Next I attended Sarah Morgan’s ‘Things I Wish I Had Known As A Beginner’ for dulcimer. In the midst of walking us through different discoveries she’s made on her journey, we learned “Down the River” by ear. Sarah is just one of those people you want to be around. She puts you at ease and we did one exercise one playing an octave up that Molly McCormack does similarly. She also walked us through her decision to try different picks and why she landed where she did.

I was holding my breath a bit when I walked into Don Pedi’s Intermediate ‘Play By Ear’ session. I’m a novice dulcimer player, but I’ve struggled with some of the beginning classes I’ve taken because of the tab and numbering is odd to me after living in a chromatic world. I’ve faked my way through dulcimer sessions before, so I mustered my bravery for this one. It was exactly what I needed though. Don’s approach nicely mirrors what I do on fiddle. Right hand first - find the rhythm. Next, feel where the melody is going, up or down, preferably by singing. Once you feel the melody’s landscape apply the left hand and GO. He had us retune rather than capo and I was like, “Ah ha!” I will be keeping Don’s retreats on my radar.

Truth be told, I didn’t know much about Don Pedi aside from seeing him perform at other events before this weekend. Dulcimer players often mention his name to me in a hushed tone that he learned from fiddlers as if this makes him a mystical dulcimer wizard. (Maybe it does.) I’ve heard his approach to the dulcimer spoken of as if it’s impossible. That all seems a bit silly to me now. I talked to him a little about my struggles to fiddle with dulcimer players and he validated my sentiments. He also took the time to suggest some artists, so I have my homework.

After lunch, I ran into Bill Davenport and joined some jamming. There wasn’t any bass, so I used my low tuned banjo for a few songs before heading to the next workshop.

Robert Tincher hosted a coal mining sing along. We recognized each other from OVG. We also had a bonding moment over mutual admiration for Sue Massek as my pick was “Which Side Are You On?” which I learned from Sue. This was a really great session. We sang and chatted and just had a wonderful time. Robert is a fine ballad singer and puts the sweetest dwells in his interpretation. The classes I’ve been taking at the Louisville Folk School helped me as I was able to pick out some harmony notes here and there. I felt so satisfied after this session I considered calling it a day and heading back to the hotel.

I decided to press on and headed to Karen Keane’s melody playing for ukulele session. I do quite a bit of flat picking on uke, so I was hoping this was a finger style class and it was. I’ve got some tunes I’m trying to arrange, so it was helpful to learn how Karen approaches it. We spent the hour working on her arrangement of “Spanish Fandango.” Both of the Keane’s are highly skilled music teachers.

I’ve previously taken workshops with Dave Haas, so the only instructor I missed was Stephen Seifert. I already keep track of what Stephen’s up to, so I have faith I will find myself in one of his workshops soon.

Though I’m sure some post concert jamming occurred, the festival culminated in a concert. The Backroom String Band opened up the set. Bill Johnson talked a bit about Homer Ledford and played the bluegrass banjo that Homer Ledford had made for him. My husband had never gotten to hear Bill play banjo, so that was a treat.

The concert was stellar. Several artists shared their connection and admiration of Homer Ledford. Robert Tincher performed on his Homer Ledford dulcimer. He played in the noter style. I find myself drawn to the older style of playing. I had taken a noter workshop several years ago and didn’t like it much, but maybe I need to revisit it. Sarah Morgan performed an original song that was so beautiful I had to wipe tears from my eyes. Sherri Reese and Joe LaMay also performed and the gentleman with New Harmony Dulcimers performed. The Keane’s sang a song about bacon, which Dave Haas clapped back at by incorporating ‘If you’ve been eating bacon, you better quit eating bacon’ into his performance of “Reap What You Sow” backed up by Bill Johnson on guitar. The concert culminated with Stephen Seifert’s performance, which was a lovely show stopping medley as only Seifert can deliver.

Overall, the Homer Ledford Dulcimer Festival was a delight. It’s a small festival that is sure to grow. It hits all the right spots, while serving as a fitting tribute to the legacy of a fine dulcimer maker. Having lived in Winchester before, I already knew that it’s a place with much to offer and look forward to returning.

[hessbynum]

Kentucky Music Week 2019

Another Kentucky Music Week came and went. KMW is extra fun because my husband comes along. He tours distilleries, hikes, and otherwise runs around Bardstown, KY while I spend my days playing music. In the evening, we meet up. We’ve run the schedule many ways. This year, I anticipated that I would want a lighter schedule when I registered. I was right. Having just traveled all over, I was fatigued. I only took 3 of the possible 5 sessions and I was cautious about doing much more than that knowing how drained my batteries were.

 

I originally signed up for a chord/melody class for beginning dulcimer with Tull Glazener (1st session), songwriting with Steve Smith (2nd session), and then a recording class with Matt Dickerson (4th session). As excited as I was about the 4th session class, I was reluctant about the schedule this gave me as the 4th and 5th sessions are just really hard on me. I don’t want to sit still in the afternoon. I also was hesitant because I’ve kind of done some recording previously, but it’s been a long time. I went to the first class and I could immediately tell Matt’s session was going to be great, it definitely hit the right spots, and he was heading in the right direction… but it was likely my imposter syndrome that had led me to sign up. Ultimately, I decided just needed to not be a baby about this and get my stuff together. I also felt a bit frustrated because day 1 the only playing I did was in the beginning dulcimer class, which was not enough. I switched to Danny Shepherd’s Carter family ukulele class (3rd session), which was a better fit for my needs. This schedule also left me free in the afternoon.

 

I can see why Tull Glazener is a popular dulcimer instructor. It’s hard to image anyone who plays the dulcimer as not having a gentle nature, but Tull’s approach is soft spoken and, well, gentle. I always feel out of place in a dulcimer class, like I’m hiding in plain sight. I took this class because I understand the concepts of chord melody methods. I’ve got the music theory. My goal was to connect that idea to the dulcimer, which likely made me a unique participant in the session. This was also a novice level class, so I knew the pace was going to be rather slow for me. I’ve learned tricks to help me get through this. Obsess about tone, attack, really concentrate on what this hand is doing, what that hand is doing, etc., and make myself slow down and really reflect on all the little things. Once we had moved through the different chords, I did have a challenge with the culminating song Tull used for the purpose of bringing all the chords into one song. The exercise was effective.

 

Steve Smith’s songwriting class was a godsend. I have been absolutely stuck for a long time (years) on an idea. Stuck. After Steve’s class I understand why I got stuck, how to get unstuck, and what I need to do to resolve the stuck-ness. I also have a ton of ideas to help keep me from getting stuck again. This class was also a gem because I discovered my friend Sally has been holding out on me. She wrote a fantastic song and we spent some of our ‘free’ time during the lunch break working on it. It’s one of those tunes I want to crawl inside and listen to until I’m tired of music and then listen again. More to come on this, I’m sure.

 

This was the first time Danny had taught the Carter family ukulele class. Basically, he went through and tabbed out how to Carter scratch the ukulele. HE FIGURED OUT THE CARTER SCRATCH ON UKULELE! *hyperventilating* It had never occurred to me to try… and now I cannot stop. Danny’s approach always clicks with mine, so all the recent work I’ve done to prepare to teach my own ukulele classes made this one a hit with me. Plus, we also sang the songs, which was super fun. Yay!

For many folks, KMW is also about the jamming, but I have learned I don’t really like big jams. I like small jams, where I can hear everyone. The exception is a ‘vocal jam.’ Since I have some issues with my singing, a big crowd for a vocal jam is tolerable. I was just too pooped to participate in any of the vocal jams this year, which is a bummer. Larry Wayt led some singing sessions that I would’ve liked to have attended, but I knew I was already pushing my limits.

 

The only special session I made it to, was the tribute to Cathy Barton Para. Dave Para joined us for this and even performed a couple songs. It was a very nice tribute concert and several of the instructors shared tunes, stories, and tears. It was very healing. I felt Cathy’s absence more so at Midwest Banjo Camp than KMW, but it was meeting her through dulcimer events that I inevitably followed her to Midwest. I left the session feeling much more whole as it reminded me that we carry her with us and share her with others through music. It was also therapeutic to see Dave Para. I have missed him as well, though I’m not sure he’d even remember me. I find how he shares his grief journey not just inspirational, but aspirational.

 

For as great of a party as KMW is, the truth is, that my husband and I originally weren’t planning to attend. We budget and plan carefully and there are other things we want to do too, so choices must be made. 2018 we had a rough go of it. It rained all week, we were dealing with car trouble, we ran over budget, and we just didn’t have as much fun as we have in the past. 2019 wasn’t without its own hiccups, but overall was much smoother. My husband was quite ill the first day. Our neighbor passed away, so we had to head home for a visitation. I was just wiped out from all the recent travel. I also found myself marveling at how large the festival has gotten. There were nearly 600 attendees this year and I’m not sure how many instructors, but it was big. It’s amazing how well they keep it feeling intimate for as big as this event has gotten, but it’s not a small event. Nonetheless, we had a great time.

 

Several folks asked me if I was teaching/what I was teaching/why I wasn’t teaching, etc. It happened so many times that it began to sting and each time stung a bit more than the last. I have offered to teach and would love to teach, but I get it. I’m not a well-known name. I’m not trying to make my living as a musician. I’m not selling method books or albums. I’m not a contest winner or a title holder, etc. And I’ve already been burned plenty as a ‘professional’ musician, so I’m very cautious about who I agree to do what with. I’m also a bit hesitant to use my precious vacation leave to go work another job, but it’s a reality of who I am that I’m going to do that. I need be careful about making sure my intentions are clear and good, so I don’t feel taken advantage of in the end as that can easily happen. The questions and comments definitely triggered my imposter syndrome to tell me I don’t belong, I don’t fit in, I’m not worthy, even as a participant, I can’t do this, etc. Nonetheless, I’m a happy participant.

 

As for what 2020 will bring, it’s hard to say. There are several events on my radar, and we’ve talked about visiting some places further away from home. Nonetheless, Kentucky Music Week always delivers and Bardstown, though close to home, is always a treat.

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Midwest Banjo Camp 6/6-9, 2019

Another Midwest Banjo Camp is in the books. Four years ago I attended my first MBC. I felt I needed more instruction, more immersion, and maybe less tab. After a chat with Cathy Barton Para about MBC, I registered and was on my way. The experience was transformative and I returned home feeling my playing and technique had improved dramatically. I have continued to attend and each year is a new experience with new takeaways to work on when I get home.

(Riley Baugus, Lukas Pool, Ken Perlman, and Jane Rothfield getting ready for a demo on fiddle tunes with blues or ragtime influence.)

This was the third year of the 19th century banjo program and an interesting one at that. Greg Adams is the anchor of the program and this year Jake Blount joined him. Jake helped to contextualize many of the things we worked on. He’s especially insightful regarding what was life really like? Greg has an intense enthusiasm that is contagious. His passion for banjo history is infectious. Several of us returning campers have also been doing our own work and research on the matter. Whether it’s researching a particular artist, this or that, applying original lyrics to a 19th century song, or my own fragmented discoveries, we were more than just participants this year. We contributed and it gave the experience something new.

I’m always astonished at how smoothly these classes go. There’s usually a mix of modern and low tuned banjos, clawhammer players and bluegrass style banjo players, inevitably a guitar player shows up with a banjo, skill levels and proficiency run the spectrum. Somehow it all comes together and goes smoothly. I occasionally switched to fiddle in situations when I felt like I had a good handle on the banjo technique and saw an opportunity. I’m not sure if I further complicated the mix or not, but everyone seemed supportive enough.

There’s so much repertoire to work through, I find the 19th century track helpful to give me something to focus on. I get overwhelmed on my own sometimes. A highlight was working through Murph Gribble’s “Altamont.” My finger-style is terrible. I have some ideas for how I can use some of what I learned in other tunes, which will help me improve the technique. We also spent some time on “Koromanti.” I have some ideas for what to do next with this one on my own.

(Jake Blount, me, Greg Adams, and M’lou Brubaker)

Joe Newberry taught a Cousin Emmy class. A true highlight of this was how many people in the class had never heard of her, which was most folks. Joe and I were nerding out throughout the class as we shared our Cousin Emmy fandom. I didn’t ask him which songs he was teaching, but I was optimistic it would be among the more well known. I’ve been working on some of the less remembered songs. Joe taught her version of “Lonesome Road Blues” and then we worked on “Ruby.” Of the latter, Joe went around the room and had some folks make it theirs. I was strongly encouraged to work on this one next.

Back to the woodshed to get ready for next year.

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Bones Fest XXIII - May 2-5, 2019

May 2-5, 2019, in Clarksdale, Mississippi rhythm bones players from all over the world gathered for the 23rd annual Bones Fest which is put together by the Rhythm Bones Society. (You can learn more or join at https://www.rhythmbones.com .) This year’s event was hosted by Randy “Da Bones Man” Seppala and took place at The Shack Up Inn, Hambone Gallery, and Ground Zero Blues Club featuring The Organgrinders as the house band. The focus of the event was the bones and the blues, which made Clarksdale the perfect back drop.

(Official Bones Fest photo by Steve Wixson)

The event itself was organized, but relaxed. Schedules shifted slightly as things ran ahead or fell behind, but the flexible schedule certainly fit with the relaxing environment. Workshops offerings included the following. A Beginner’s workshop with Steve Brown. Steve gave some great tips and straightforward demonstration. Next up was Blues Rhythms and Bone presented by Vgo. This session was both a demonstration and discussion of the evolution of the blues among other things. Vgo ably performed on several instruments incorporating the demonstration portion. After lunch, Bill Vits set up a drum set and had a play along demonstration of Bones Playing with Drums. As principal percussionist with the Grand Rapids Symphony he provided a succinct explanation of foundational percussion techniques as they relate to the bones. Using his drum kit, he incorporated the bones in several different ways offering a series of approaches to blend. The next day’s workshops included Randy Seppala’s New Rhythm Bones Players workshop. I don’t recall much of what Randy said, but I definitely felt more confident in my playing. Whatever he did coaxed something out of me and I feel like I have much to build on. Skeffington Flynn gave a workshop on Rhythm Bones Playing Techniques that got into rhythms that come up in different song styles. This session was over my head, in terms of skill, but the musical concepts were familiar having approached teaching similar concepts on other instruments. I sat and observed and gained more understanding of the bones.

In order to prepare for the evening showcase, The Organgrinders played some different songs to demonstrate different types of blues. Along with The Organgrinders, the Rev, Libby Rae, Vgo, myself and a few others offered to accompany anyone. Much of the afternoon on Saturday was free to prepare. Mary Lee Sweet and Frank Sweet kindly asked me to join them. They were performing Port Lairge and The Wearing of the Green. I don’t play much Irish music, but I was able to put something together quickly on fiddle. We also prepared Oh, Susanna which they had me start on banjo and had worked out Camptown Races, but didn’t perform it. It was very kind of them to ask me to play with them. Several of the bones players took the stage in the evening and gave some very memorable performances. New bones players are encouraged to participate, but it was a harder sell in such a public venue.

Before the evening showcase at Ground Zero, there was a Rhythm Bones Society board meeting at the Shack Up Inn, which I didn’t attend, followed by a member meeting. I missed the beginning of the member meeting, but I caught most of it. They discussed plans for next years bones fest and other business. There was also discussion of a member who passed recently which led into discussion of Clif Ervin. His daughter donated his rhythm bones to the Rhythm Bones Society. The RBS board decided the best course of action was to get them into the hands of bones players, so they drew names and handed them out.

Clif "Ambassador of the Bones" Ervin passed away in 2008. My discovery of him was inevitable as he played with some musicians I'm fond of and so his name became familiar to me. You can find him on YouTube. Of course, I never met him though. He was gone before my discovery of him. I never imagined I would have a pair of Clif Ervin bones. I'm not well known to the RBS members and am an introvert to boot. As I was marveling at this remarkable gift another member asked me if I understood the guy who made them died. I said, "Yes. I understand.” Although they had enough bones that almost everyone received a set, if not everyone, it just felt really special. I’m honored to say the least.

On a good day I’m a novice bones player, so my hope was to get some instruction. I feel equipped to get where I want to be after attending. I’ve learned enough instruments that doing the work isn’t so bad. The hard part is determining the approach, understanding technique, and connecting where I am to where I want to go enough to recognize the difference between a viable path and a bad habit. I rolled a variety of video clips to help me remember what to do next.

I learned so much from many folks, but one moment that stands out is a discussion I had with Ron Bruschi. His play style is unique in his delicate, precision movement. Ron plays with tremendous control. I asked him about it and he focuses his practice on controlling volume so that he is able to blend into different groups. Having participated in jams where percussion was not allowed, I can see great value in this approach. Skeffinton Flynn also talked a bit about this in one of the sessions and offered some different techniques to help blend into the group, such as shortening the length of the anvil bone.

The other golden bit of advice I got from Ron was to practice while walking. The pro tip is to practice when sitting in traffic. If you live in the big city, this makes tons of sense. I drove around with my bones for about 6 months before I gave up. I just don’t sit in traffic. I have a short commute or I’m on the interstate. In both cases it’s very rare that I sit, so the opportunity wasn’t there. Walking though... makes total sense.

I’m not sure why, but I was also surprised that almost everyone played two handed. I would’ve thought one handed bones playing, considered Irish style, was more common. I’m not terribly interested in Irish music, but it’s wildly popular amongst folk circles, so you would think that would influence play style decisions. I also considered it may just be that individuals interested in that style are either less likely to attend Bones Fest or perhaps just a blues themed Bones Fest. Nonetheless, my logic is to get proficient with one hand before I try to add the other. I may find this to be a mistake later on, but I expect in many situations I will likely have another instrument to hold.

It was a wonderful event and a delightful change of pace from other music festivals I have attended. We left Clarksdale with plans to return again as there were many things we wanted to see that we didn’t get to. We eagerly await the big reveal of next year’s event.

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Performance Anxiety & Me

There was a time I loved performing music for an audience. I would get butterflies in my stomach and any nerves I had were easily transformed into excitement. The more prepared, the more at ease I was. My best performances are hard to describe because the normal analyzing stopped and the music flowed through me. At a young age I was able to recover from a mistake and keep going. I truly enjoyed performing despite my intense introverted nature.

This went on for years until some things happened. I was never formally trained in singing. While working on my bachelors in Applied Music and Teaching Music I was expected to sight sing as a part of music theory training. The concept is simple. You’re given a passage of music and a starting pitch to sing what’s written. I read music well and have always been able to carry a tune, but this was different. Worse, the professor had a dramatic flare to pound the first note on the piano and scream and shout. In retrospect, I imagine it being similar to how it feels to be in Gordon Ramsey’s kitchen on a reality television show. The louder it got, the more paralyzed I became until I lost the ability to connect the pitch in my head with whatever came out of my mouth. I failed the class.

I could retake the class and pass it or change majors. I’m stubborn, so I retook the class. I was given a slight reprieve as the professor took a sabbatical and another professor stepped in who had a gentler approach.

The second time around I was also taking vocal pedagogy to help prepare me to teach choir (yikes). I became a class project of sorts and I’m so thankful for the patience of my professor and classmates. We reconnected the pitch in my head with the one coming out of my mouth. Then we discovered I was trying to sing the exercises too low. In fact, my voice was rather bright. I remember as my range was being tested we stopped as no one would ask me to sing that high.

So there I was. I had a new instrument to learn and I had to learn it quickly. I didn’t have time for the identity crisis I needed over wielding this stranger’s voice. I had work to do. Luckily I had learned enough instruments to have a formula. I needed recordings to mimic and emulate in my practice until I could find my own path. I tried listening to opera since I now had the label ‘soprano’ to work with. It felt ridiculous. A little voice work didn’t make me the vocal athlete I would need to be to make that work, so I looked for something else. I went through every mp3, CD, and cassette I had and found nothing. I needed a high, bright voice to imitate. The sense that I had made a terrible mistake was sinking in when I remembered I had brought some records with me. I got them out and found my salvation: Joni Mitchell. Please understand it’s not my intent to even put my voice in the same category as hers. Her high, bright voice and soft spoken demeanor fit my needs like a glove. My friends thought it was really cool that I was listening to Joni Mitchell on vinyl at all hours and had no idea the work behind all that listening.

I passed the class. And I found myself thinking, now I never have to sing again. I had always enjoyed singing, but a shadow had been cast. While teaching I could sing and even during my short time as a music teacher I sang a cello part during a concert so my students could go on. When there was no utility to my singing, I couldn’t muster a peep.

After I failed the class, anxiety seeped into every performance. Others have written about the traumatic nature of juries. Basically part of classical training involves going before a jury of musical experts and being judged. It’s exactly as it sounds and is much like a performance review at work, only more humiliating.

The second blow came when I finished my second year of teaching. I had jumped through all the ridiculous hoops, completed the Kentucky Teacher Internship Program, which I have nothing nice to say about, and after two years of teaching my certification expired. In order to renew my certification I had to provide the state proof that I was enrolled in an approved masters degree program. My certification would be extended five years. When it expired again I would be required to show I had completed a masters.

To clarify, the state was not paying for any of this. I was responsible for my tuition and other costs and expected to continue working full time. These were new requirements the state had adopted while I was finishing my degree. People love to say, “You knew what you were signing up for!” Apparently I am also a bad psychic in addition to being a failure of a human being. The state was the first to eagerly adopt No Child Left Behind requirements and bundled this into those rules.

At this time the federal government wasn’t recognizing online students, so I was going to have to commute 60-90 minutes one way after a 10-12 hour work day to go sit in another classroom and try to pay attention. I would also be willing to argue that online education hadn’t quite had its advent. It was after the year this all happened when the government began recognizing online students that the technology started improving dramatically.

The only recognized programs at the time were master of education. I struggled with my true education classes. I felt ultimately destined for failure whether I passed out from exhaustion behind the wheel and died in a car wreck or successfully ensured financial ruin by accumulating six figure student loan debt for a career that capped below median income.

My first and only years of teaching were brutal. I loved my students and sharing music. I understand that I was in my mid-twenties living in a town where my neighbor was my only friend. I had no local support system. And the mentor I had for my internship made me feel incredibly isolated and that I couldn’t trust anyone. I know now that I needed time to grow up. I needed to build a support system that would help me gain resilience. I needed more in my life than a 24x7 job that gave me a guilt trip when I tried to eat lunch or go to the bathroom. I know I would still be teaching under other circumstances and I would’ve been fine. I would’ve grown up and that’s what I needed more than anything else.

I felt like I had no other choice when I walked away from teaching. I felt ruined and still feel cheated. I was broken by my decision to walk away and will always remain devastated. Worse, as I changed careers I entered a job market heading into recession. The impact of this sequence events and how student loan debt has shaped my career are why I own my Millenniallness. I’m on the cusp between Gen X, but debt and the recession have shaped my entire adult life. No, I’m not being dramatic with that statement.

For about a year I couldn’t make music. It was too painful. I was horribly depressed. After some time, I began playing again, but I couldn’t stand anyone to hear me, my husband included. It took years before he knew I was playing again. From there it took several more years before I was able to start playing out. Things I had done before were the safest path, but it was a broken route. Some things I could do and the next day I was frozen and panicked.

In time I joined the Heartland Dulcimer Club and began feeding my interest in folk, fiddle, and traditional music more readily. I found a path, yet the anxiety reared it’s ugly head at the oddest times and in the strangest ways.

In 2016 I began planning. I knew I had to do something and there was nothing worse than singing. So I started making goals. At the 2017 Ohio Valley Gathering I went to a sing a long workshop. I felt that was low pressure enough and I could just mouth along if it got bad. I sang. I made myself go to vocal jams and took a yodeling class. I took classes at the Louisville Folk School with David Brooks, including a class on singing with the banjo. Thoughts of private lessons still freak me out, but I took a Bluegrass workshop at the end of 2018 to make myself sing.

At the 2018 OVG Tucker Thomas asked me not once, but twice to perform. He passed away last summer. And at the 2019 I got up on stage and I sang with my banjo. I understand this is a journey, but I sure hope the next time I get put on the spot I feel a bit less panicked. More work to come.

https://youtu.be/0IXrmfizdok

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Why I Stopped Laughing at Banjo Jokes

I have always been interested in early American music, particularly 19th century music. Perhaps it was the experience of growing up in a home with wall to wall history books or maybe that common dinner discussion likened current affairs to historical events, but I am a history buff.

While I studied Bach and Schumann, I was equally fascinated by American folk music. In many ways the path was obvious. Popular musics of European countries traveled to America and were amalgamated into the living rooms, or parlors, of the emerging middle class. It was fairly easy to find information on classical pieces, but the folk music was far more fun to research. Music that had been traced from one place to another often in cited journal entries, paintings, and obscure references in the absence of a known composer told a different story. This was back when the internet was not so fully saturated with information and finding sources was much more difficult (and fun).

In my classical studies I learned bourees, minuets, and rondeaus. These dance/tune styles had fallen out of fashion before the quest to the New World, so their absence in American repertoire made and still makes sense to me. Polkas, waltzes, reels and other styles made the journey. These styles became part of American folk music and took on characteristics of their own. Some can even be dated and traced as they are referenced in art, literature, and journals/letters. Others seem to have manifested once somewhere else and then again in America.

Then I learned jigs, particularly an Irish jig. It was presented to me as a popular tune that traveled to America and became equally popular here. Neat, or so I thought. I then asked my teacher for an American jig. This was the first time it was explained to me that the style of the Irish jig never became absorbed into American music styles. It made no sense to me as the jig was there, it was popular, the very tune I had learned was played in parlors across the United States, but there were no American jigs. My search brought me to dead end after dead end. I quizzed every music teacher I encountered and there were no American jigs. They didn’t exist. Some teachers told me apologetically, occasionally with an exasperated uncertainty, while others were more affirmative with their conviction that no such thing existed.

Fast forward about 20+ years. I picked up the banjo. I struggled, so I decided to go to Midwest Banjo Camp. This was the first year they offered what has since become a 19th century banjo track. So I went to a session. I wasn’t expecting to find the American jig I had sought so many years earlier, but there it was. The term jig simply referred to a tune you can dance to and had become Americanized out of African and Caribbean traditions, not European.

I was confounded. How could this detail have been omitted? Did my teachers not know? Everything began to come together. The songs and tunes I was drawn to that didn’t fit the European narrative I was taught told a different story. I had been listening to American jigs for years, yet had never made the connection. Eureka! Right?

But how did this omission happen? That was unfortunately too easy to answer. The banjo came from Africa. It was brought to America through slavery. The Caribbean was a key stop in the slave trade. The instrument, the music, everything was culturally appropriated. It was made into a caricature. The minstrel shows were racist, sexist, and xenophobic. But they also brought the banjo and the related music into the parlor and the banjo infused popular American culture. The instrument and the music converged and American music was never the same after the banjo.

Colonialism was fueled by entitlement, privilege, and a belief in superiority - a divine right to conquer and enslave. This idea, this narrative, has been carefully protected over the years. By omitting conflicting narratives, silencing voices, leaving out details, everything from manipulating property lines to erecting statues to reinforce such ideas contribute. I do not fault my teachers for I really think they had no idea.

But here I am; barely grasping the size of the iceberg aware of how blind I am to what lies below the water. I understand that while we typically view racism as an individual choice and at times it is, the hard truth is that racism is systemic. And perhaps by no fault of their own my teachers perpetuated this idea by teaching me music through a European lens as they had been taught, omitting parts of history they too were not aware of.

So what does this all have to do with banjo jokes? In 2017 I started reading Sinful Tunes and Spirituals: Black Folk Music to the Civil War by Dena J. Epstein. I’m also working through some of the original minstrel banjo books. I find I must stop and reflect often, which is making it a slow journey. It’s difficult to confront the ugliness, but I find it increasingly difficult to pacify anyone who can’t be bothered to feel uncomfortable.

I’m not sure if I made it through the first journal entry or not when I felt a common theme. Even in the 17th century African music, the banjo, was rude/crude, savage, and offensive to colonialists. No dignified, respectable person would enjoy such undulating noise.

Today we have the same jokes. The same sentiment. I removed the filter that prevented me from seeing the racism and the idea that the banjo is uncouth is no longer remotely amusing. So I stopped laughing.

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2019 Kentucky Winter Music Weekend

My musical goals and focus shift in 2019. I’ve reached a level of proficiency with banjo where I’m willing to welcome some distractions. I have a queue of instruments and objectives. Lofty goals. And still work to do on fiddle and banjo alike, but work I am equipped to navigate. I want to check out some jams this year and many events are on my radar.

So along comes Kentucky Winter Music Weekend. It’s always held the first weekend in January, but this year it relocated to Bardstown from Louisville. I signed up and packed my bags.

The first session I took was guitar with Dave Para. There was only one other student and he was not as rusty as me. It was a great crash course in flat picking and finger style. I was looking for a tasting on these techniques. After the bluegrass jamming class in November, I find myself more motivated to practice rhythm guitar. I think if I keep at it the flat picking will come naturally for me. I was perplexed by the finger style. I understood the concepts and techniques, but felt like I was fighting my fingers. Guitar picking aside, spending time with Dave was a joy. I have a list of odd notes of artists and tunes to look into.

For the next session I took Danny Shepherd’s dulcimer jamming class. I thought it might give me an opportunity to practice playing chords in a group, which it did. This was a really good class. Danny is so fun to be around already, but his simple step by step approach helped all of us feel more comfortable and confident. We worked through a few common jam tunes and Danny walked through how dulcimer jams typically run, what to do, when to do it, etc. It was a really relaxed setting and enjoyable class.

I confess I skipped the concert. I was pretty wiped out, but the concert always is worth coming for if you do nothing else.

Sunday morning I was late to the hymn sing, but managed to catch the last 20 minutes. There was a rather rowdy exchange of jokes and merriment at one point. I might have to try to come to more of these.

For the next session I got out my uke, but still hung out with Danny. We did some strumming and singing of cowboy tunes on ukulele. This gave me a great chance to practice my singing while strumming. We worked on a wonderful selection of tunes and Danny offered tips on playing finger style and adding in passing chords to make songs more interesting. Very fun class.

Last, I went to a singing session with Dave Para and Cathy Barton. It was so good to see Cathy. We shared songs and had a lovely sing along with some New Years themed tunes mixed in. It was a great way to end the weekend and start the year!