I've only been home since wednesday afternoon, and in a few hours I'm headed south to Portland and thence to the Oregon Country Fair.
For those not in the know, the Oregon Country Fair is like Folklife turned up to 11 and in a more natural setting. There are two-story vendor booths cunningly woven out of saplings from the site and a lot more toplessness (legal for all in the Eugene area).
I was up at FiddleTunes for the beginning of the week, and took two workshops from Liz Carroll (O frabjous day!). Jammed with friends, hung with the notorious happy hour crowd, basked in the sun, and ran a coffee tab (if you're ever in the Port Townsend area, remember: the folks at Java Gypsy are absolute sweethearts, they have adorable kids, and they make a damn fine latte).
I'm trying to tease out why I don't like it when people perform 'our' (trad/folk) music without being aware of our trad/folk community. I don't think it's a really rational response, which makes it harder (and more interesting) to chase down the bits going into it. I discussed it with a few friends, and found that I'm not alone in the discomfort. Erik -- who is much less involved in the community and doesn't viscerally 'get' the feeling -- can relate in that he'd feel similarly if someone performed jazz in ignorance of it's history and the greats who'd gone before, so it's probably partly an issue of wanting the music to have context.
Perhaps it's also partly that as a fiddler, I go to see a lot of performances by people that could be described as 'musicians' musicians' -- their playing is good enough that an audience made up of people who play the same kind of music are in awe and learn something from them. So hearing that someone is performing without following these kinds of artists always feels a little... arrogant? That word is too strong, but the idea is that we have something to learn and we learn it from each other.
Another part is that it's fundamentally a community music, whether you're playing Irish, old-timey, or contra. At some level it always feels fake if it's too separated from the community.
Lastly, who wouldn't want to drink margaritas in the sun while Reverend Big Dave randomly proclaims from whatever paperback he happens to be reading, Forrest sings the blues about That Time He Lost His Car*, Cathy and Sally sing competing western swing, and we all try and avoid the park rangers? I mean, really.Happy Hour Friendship is what it's all about!
*Best fiddltunes story evaaar.
For those not in the know, the Oregon Country Fair is like Folklife turned up to 11 and in a more natural setting. There are two-story vendor booths cunningly woven out of saplings from the site and a lot more toplessness (legal for all in the Eugene area).
I was up at FiddleTunes for the beginning of the week, and took two workshops from Liz Carroll (O frabjous day!). Jammed with friends, hung with the notorious happy hour crowd, basked in the sun, and ran a coffee tab (if you're ever in the Port Townsend area, remember: the folks at Java Gypsy are absolute sweethearts, they have adorable kids, and they make a damn fine latte).
I'm trying to tease out why I don't like it when people perform 'our' (trad/folk) music without being aware of our trad/folk community. I don't think it's a really rational response, which makes it harder (and more interesting) to chase down the bits going into it. I discussed it with a few friends, and found that I'm not alone in the discomfort. Erik -- who is much less involved in the community and doesn't viscerally 'get' the feeling -- can relate in that he'd feel similarly if someone performed jazz in ignorance of it's history and the greats who'd gone before, so it's probably partly an issue of wanting the music to have context.
Perhaps it's also partly that as a fiddler, I go to see a lot of performances by people that could be described as 'musicians' musicians' -- their playing is good enough that an audience made up of people who play the same kind of music are in awe and learn something from them. So hearing that someone is performing without following these kinds of artists always feels a little... arrogant? That word is too strong, but the idea is that we have something to learn and we learn it from each other.
Another part is that it's fundamentally a community music, whether you're playing Irish, old-timey, or contra. At some level it always feels fake if it's too separated from the community.
Lastly, who wouldn't want to drink margaritas in the sun while Reverend Big Dave randomly proclaims from whatever paperback he happens to be reading, Forrest sings the blues about That Time He Lost His Car*, Cathy and Sally sing competing western swing, and we all try and avoid the park rangers? I mean, really.
*Best fiddltunes story evaaar.