They all sit or stand there in a circle, the air static with the energy of each one. The song is one of those fast and furious bluegrass songs which speeds up at each repeat. The players aren't concerned with the melody so much as with the technical aspect when each player takes his break and everybody plays variations on the same tune. Some are outwardly calm but the speed of their fingers betray how fast their minds are working to keep up. Some, brow furrowed, lips twisted in concentration play with an intensity so thick it's catching. Others don't hide the delight which spreads across their features in an ear-splitting grin the whole way through. There's no mistake about it, however, everyone's enjoying it, and the music produced is unique to that moment. Unless it's recorded, no one will ever hear sounds exactly like that again. The music gets faster and faster, the intensity rises, the mandolin player leans forward in his seat, the guitarist's tongue works from side to side, the bass player shifts her stance, but the tempo drives on. The banjo player executes an ear staggering roll and on unspoken cue, the final chord bursts from every instrument and the music comes to an abrupt but satisfying finish. Some cheer, the fiddle player rubs his shoulder and flexes his fingers. The guitarist mops his brow and adjusts his glasses. There is no applause because everybody present is an active participant, but everybody feels the distinct pleasure that comes from having created a beautiful work of art, a masterpiece which was crafted purely for their own enjoyment.
The Bass player tries to request a song and somebody misunderstands, repeating with a smirk what he thought he heard. The whole room bursts into spontaneous laughter, the bass player exaggerates the joke, demonstrating on her instrument. More laughs follow and random sounds issue from the instruments present. The bass player casually mentions it's too bad someone isn't videoing this because these "Millennials" (she winks at me) don't know what they're missing out on. I immediately give my hearty assent, but then realize that no type of recording can capture the wonder and excitement of these bluegrass jam sessions. There's something to being there, hearing the jokes, participating in music born out of improvisation with hardly any practice and requiring nothing but the instruments and individual skill of the musicians to execute that is so completely magnificent and heartwarming that it can't be completely communicated to one who wasn't there.
Most of these players have had little to no formal musical training. Few can read music, but my goodness, they can play. For those of you who aren't familiar with the open bluegrass jam concept, let me explain. Bluegrass ensembles are mainly comprised of guitars, banjos, mandolins, fiddles and a string bass or two which help keep the rhythm and provide a supporting foundation, though not necessarily required. Often a dobro and harmonicas will be present as well with, perhaps, the rare inclusion of a Bodhran.
Bluegrass jams are usually open and informal, you show up and leave whenever you please within a predetermined time frame. There is a common repertoire among longtime players which consist of "actual" bluegrass songs, old American, English, Irish, or Scottish fiddle tunes, gospel songs, old spirituals, traditional folk songs, and even a few hymns. Even if someone doesn't know a tune suggested, if you give him the key and maybe a few chords, he can play along quite well, and perhaps, after a few rounds if the song is long enough, he'll take a break.
Okay, I should stop and explain what a 'break' is in jamming terms. Only one instrument gets to carry the melody at a time. Usually the one who suggested it starts out while the other instruments play harmony and backup completely improvised. The melody then passes to another instrumentalist, usually the one right next to him who played it first, and it goes around until everybody's had a chance. The break is that playing of the melody and whoever is playing it at the time is taking a break. Why is it called that? I could google it, but I think for now I'll let you do that if you're curious enough.
What fascinated me first about this group of players was their absolute skill and mastery of their instruments without any formal musical training. As a Classically trained musician this boggled my mind. At first I thought that somehow, these musicians were less structured, less difficult somehow than classical playing. If I can play classical music, I thought, I can play anything. I was wrong. Not only is it extremely structured,
(It's very bad form to interrupt someone's break, as I once found out, completely by accident)
but it's also excruciatingly complex and difficult. I felt like a complete beginner that first night. I was frighteningly unused to improvising on the fly and just playing without sheet music. I've gotten better at it as I've learned more of the repertoire and been acquiring some of the style, but it's been hard as a classical musician to transition.
The musical aspect was just one side, however, as I was soon to realize. As I got to know more of the players, as they got to know me, a certain comradery began to build of a nature I had never experienced before. In the past, I would get together with people to do something but the socialization wasn't really there, not the casual, honest, heartwarming way that I was experiencing it here. And when I found myself in socializing settings, we weren't really doing anything, definitely not creating something together. Here the two fit hand in glove and there was something so utterly thrilling and magnificent about it, that I know I'll always go back. I realized this is what community ought to be and something of what we've lost with our ability to so easily shut ourselves off and live very individualistic lives. It's an opportunity I've begun to prize and thank God for. Classical rehearsals are wonderful, but sometimes we can get so caught up in the perfecting of it all(which is a good thing) that we lose sight of what God meant us to have, the awe-filled joy of making music.
I'm want to encourage you to take the time to reach out to a friend you haven't spoken to in a while, write a letter to someone who needs encouragement. Stop and find joy in the seemingly mundane task you're doing right now, and try to share that joy with someone close to you. Invite that neighbor you always wave at each morning when you leave for work over for dinner, and maybe get together with your church small group to create something together. Praying and studying scripture is wonderful, but if that's all you do with your church family there's no real depth and practical application of those truths you're learning.
I'm going to share one of the songs I've come to enjoy during our Bluegrass jams. Somebody at some point will request it, and I'm blown away by how much everybody, believers and non-believers alike, love it. It's simple, and to some ears rather pedantic, but to me it's a sweet reminder of the truths we all know. A pure expression of the straightforward faith many of these musicians posses. If you're not used to bluegrass, the sound takes a little getting used to, but as you listen, watch for the breaks as each instrumentalist takes his turn to show off his licks, completely improvised, between verses. Notice how one person sings the verses and everyone joins in harmony on the chorus. This is typical of bluegrass whenever a song is sung. It's a lot of fun because everybody present is usually excellent at coming up with harmonies.
So what do you do when you need to do something with others? Do you go out to the gym, get together with friends for an impromptu football game, or take an afternoon to go swing dancing at the local lodge? Whatever it is, don't lock yourself away in your room and watch movies. Go out and do something with others. As for me, I'll be practicing my violin this month for orchestra, but I'll also take a few 'breaks' from classical repertoire and practice some new fiddle tunes for next month. I'm looking forward to that time when we're all circled in that back room, feet tapping to keep time, heads bent in concentration, instrumentalists laughing at themselves when they get too ambitious with their breaks, and the jokes that fly across the room between songs.
