No no no no no no

It happens to all of us and now it has happened to me.  Computer crash, hard disk failure, much pain and sobbing. I will start posting again soon, but for now I'm wallowing in the loss of a year's work.

Folk School Day 4 - Getting On With It

Sittin' Porch - Keith House

Another foggy morning to accompany another great breakfast.  Word has gotten out that I work for an Indian Tribe and I was invited to a table at breakfast to discuss it with several curious fellow students.  Subsequently I spent so much time chatting away that I barely got to eat!    What I did manage to stuff in between questions was great and more food was forthcoming during the day anyway.  The one thing you're not likely to do at the Folk School is starve.

We continued to work at our own paces throughout the day.  I was happy to see that I'm keeping up well.  It takes me a while to pick up a new song and make it sound right, but I'm not lost and I can typically muddle my way through anything David throws at us.

Something I have noticed here - something that truly stands out in my mind - is the trust given to the students.  Doors are generally unlocked, rooms are left open, and access is maintained - trusting that the students will behave honorably and respectfully.  And they do!  For example, the dining hall is scheduled - we all wait patiently for the big bell to be rung before filing in for meals.  However, the doors are left unlocked and access is free.  If you need to use the restroom before a meal, you don't have to leave the rush to get in after the bell - the door is open and you can slip in before the bell and then back out to the line to get in.

The Walkway to Keith House
 from the Studio

This may not seem like much to some of you, but to someone who grew up in an area where the customer is to be feared (for he/she may steal from you if you turn your back for a moment) this is a noteworthy difference.  I am certainly enjoying it and it makes the whole experience more of a joy.

In class we worked together as a group today - something I really enjoyed.  We played both Cripple Creek and Old Joe Clark as a group at a slow enough speed that the slowest of the group (namely me) could keep up.  Actually, Old Joe Clark is coming along nicely, save for that damn F chord.  I can almost play Cripple Creek at speed, which is remarkable given the fact that its the first song in which I have been able to get a passable drop thumb working.

This evening included a special personal event.  A gentleman from another class dropped by while it was only Allie and I practicing.  He had brought along his mandolin and he wanted to see if we wanted to play a few songs.  This was truly the first time I had ever jammed with anyone and while I couldn't play with all the songs he knew, there were a few we all knew together.  It was awesome.  We all hesitated and made mistakes but we all three enjoyed ourselves and the quiet applause of his wife was reward enough.  It wasn't until he left that I realized that I hadn't gotten his name.  Oh well.

Looking North from the Studio

After our little impromptu jam session I walked up to Keith House to see the Morris Dancers practice.  They are working towards a trip to England to compete there and it was fun to see a truly different type of dance played to renaissance style instruments and songs.  Upon my arrival I noticed that Herr Kelischek was playing the recorder in the band!  I tipped him a nod and enjoyed watching the old man truly enjoy the music and the dancing.  The dancers themselves were having a good time and it was fun to sit and watch them go through the motions.

After watching for a bit, it was off to bed for me.  Two more days of bliss and it's back to the great white north for me.

Folk School Day 3 - Music and Dancing

Waiting for the Breakfast Bell

Tuesday shined bright and hot, with a humidity that belied the thunderstorms to come that evening.  However, after a morning fog burned off the day itself was sparkling and blue - a perfect day for learning new songs on the music studio's wraparound porch.

Today we progressed from the two tunes we had already learned in G-major tuning to a fun little song in G-modal, or sawmill to the great unwashed.  While my thumb is beginning to behave properly, the f-chord in both tunings is giving me trouble.  As with any chord form, it will simply take time for my fingers to learn where to go without my having to think about it - a day I look forward to as there is a distinct f-chord in one of the songs we are to perform on Friday.

Kelischek Playing the
Bossanova Recorder

After class I joined a group touring the nearby shop of Michael Kelischek, a German immigrant who has more musical knowledge in his little pinky than I ever hope to attain in my whole life.  Herr Kelischek makes woodwind and string instruments in his home and shop only a mile or so from the school.  His shop is a wonder to see in itself, boasting hundreds of different instruments - all of which Herr Kelischek can play effortlessly.  He is a wonder to listen to and quite hilarious at times, especially when he plays the massive six-foot tall bass recorder he hides in one corner (shown here).  He has invented a new instrument to replace that one, with a sinuous channel inside which reduces the overall length of the instrument to a little more than 16 inches.  He had several novel instruments, including a three-hole recorder that could play all the notes of a traditional recorder but with only three finger holes, leaving his other hand free to beat the rhythm.  He also played for us his viola de gamba, an interesting cello-like instrument that is held by the knees and which has movable frets made of catgut.  The idea of movable frets was a novel one to me and the tinkerer in me envisioned a fretless banjo set up the same way - allowing for chromatic tuning like a mountain dulcimer.  We hated to leave and were so curious to learn more that some of us returned on another day just to hear him speak more about the instruments that he loves.

The Two Linked Cabins

After dinner I took some time to walk around the school, taking pictures of various buildings and studios.  Shown here are two cabins, joined by a common roof, which Olive Campbell had moved to the school shortly after its founding.  One still contains the furniture and sparse decorations of a turn-of-the-century cabin.  Sadly, maintenance of these cabins is costly and they are not open to the public.  It's my hope that someone will find a grant to bring them back to proper condition and maybe even hold a few classes within.  The rest of the campus is a wonder to see, especially if your chosen class is limited to one area such as ours was.  Had I not explored I would have missed much.  It's worth the time and the sweat to do so if ever you're there.

Circle Dancing

After another sumptuous dinner it was time for dancing.  Every Tuesday night at the Folk School they hold a directed dance event that is popular enough to attract some local folk as well as the students.  The night held time for many dances - square dances, contra dancing, even some line dances that trace their history back to Great Britain before the founding of the United States.  I had the pleasure to sit next to a couple originally from Wales at lunch and seeing that I was wearing my kilt that day, they told me it would be a true crime if I did not dance a little and send the kilt pleats swishing.  I grudgingly obliged and ended up having a great time of it - eliciting many curious stares from some of the local children.  I'm sure my wife will attest to the rarity of my dancing so it was a noteworthy event regardless.

After dancing I retired to my cell (in the charming monastic sense, not as in a penitentiary) and collapsed in exhaustion.  It wasn't hard to sleep after all the dancing, and the rumbling of thunderstorms lulled me even deeper down into dreams of dancing and drop-thumb.

"A great instrument does not sound great because of the wood, it is in spite of the wood."  - Herr Kelischek speaking as to why he makes most of his recorders of materials other than wood.

Folk School Day 2 - Getting Into It

Morning in the Hay Field

Even with the jet lag still holding on to me firmly, I was too excited to stay in bed long.  Besides, the reality of sharing a bathroom with four other rooms meant that the sooner I got my butt out of bed the better the chance I could get said butt into the shower.

I emerged clean and awake into a perfect sunrise.  As I live where humidity is a strict rarity, I forgot how truly "green" the morning can smell when the ground is soft with the morning dew and every leaf, every flower is heavy with moisture.  And the birds - oh, the birds!  There were hundreds of birds, most unfamiliar to me, cheeping and hooting their various songs into one cacophonous chorus of joy.

As we would each morning, the day here is begun with copious amounts of coffee and Morningsong, a tradition started by Olive Campbell herself.  This first morning of school is usually presided over by Jan Davidson, the current director of the school.  He regaled us with both song - accompanied by his fretless banjo - and stories of the school's beginning.  I found it a great way to start the morning and didn't miss a single Morningsong the whole week long.  Jan finished up just as the breakfast bell rung and we stampeded down to the dining hall for breakfast.

The "Farm House," Where the Teachers Stay 

Meals here have their own rhythm and traditions.  Before each meal the eager crowd into the screened porch and chat, the conversation usually limited to the projects at hand.  Once the bell rings we file in past the drinks and take a place behind a chair to await the blessing.  This is either a short one or two line song, or a short blessing.  Once said, we all sit down and the hosts and work study folks bring in the food.  Everything is served in big bowls, family style, which has a nice way of fostering conversation.  There is never any shortage of food, but no one really has time to overeat as there is so much work to get to.

I swear we never spent more than 20 minutes at any one meal.  Who wanted to eat while there were projects to work on, songs to learn, and stories to create?

Beehives In the Vegetable Garden

After breakfast was our first full day of class.  Today we worked on a fun little ditty called "Cripple Creek," a pretty well-known song that we would eventually perform at the closing ceremony on Friday.  Much to my chagrin, the song is rife with drop-thumb - my personal nemesis - and understandably it took a while to nail down.  I'm proud to say that by the end of the day I would play my way through it, drop-thumb and all, but it would take some time to get smooth with it.  We also began to work on another song titled "Old Joe Clark."  This one was thankfully drop-thumb-free, but it does have it's share of double-thumb notes, which kept that darn thumb of mine busy and caused much dismay on my part.  However, after hours of working on it I finally got my thumb to cooperate and by the evening I had a passable version of this song going as well.

Spring Has Sprung

David, our instructor, filled our day with music but also with countless stories about the history of old time mountain music and the banjo.  We spent a good amount of time after lunch watching some of the old footage he has collected, including some from the 20's and 30's recorded on hand-cranked cameras and overdubbed with wax cylinder recordings.  It was amazing to see the same tunes we were learning played almost 100 years ago the same way on the same sorts of instruments.

After an amazing dinner (mac & cheese with ham, fried okra, and cucumber salad - now who can argue with that?) some headed off to bed or to other workshops to see what other classes were doing.  For my part, I stopped by and watched the local clog dancing group practicing in the dance hall before heading off to my room for some much needed rest.  Our first full day at the school was amazing in so many ways and I couldn't help thinking that I had four more just like it coming up.

Jan Davidson is fond of telling folks that the population of nearby Brasstown has not changed in a hundred years.  When asked why, he replies dryly, "That because every time a local girl gets pregnant a boy leaves town."

Folk School Day 1 - Arrival

Turning Onto Brasstown Road

It has been a long, long wait, but I was finally at the John C. Campbell Folk School.  It took two days of traveling, three planes, and an overnight in Atlanta, but I had arrived.

The folk school itself is blissfully 'off from just about everywhere.  Atlanta is more than two hours away, as are Asheville, Knoxville, and Chattanooga.  The result is a small society isolated from the petty annoyances of freeways and shopping malls.  Nearby Murphy is large enough to offer what is needed without overpowering the simple serenity of the school.

The shuttle driver, Bobby, is an interesting conversational companion with a gaggle of hilarious kids in tow as often as not.  He has been around long enough to tell a few good stories about the school and the area while driving - making the two and a half hour drive much more bearable.  Even better, he showed true care for my banjo - giving it the shotgun position to avoid any damage from the various baggage in the back.  Given the good conversation and the fact that I had not been to this part of the country before, the drive was quick and effortless and we were soon pulling across the bridge at Clay's Corner, revealing the schools various houses and buildings across the hay field (see the photo).

Keith House

Bobby was more than prepared, even knowing where my room was before I did.  He helped me unload into my room - a sparse but truly adequate room all to myself in Bidstrup House - before taking me up to the Keith House (the school's headquarters) for registration.  Registration was itself a calm thing, as there were several hours in which to do it and people were trickling in all day.

Once registered and paid I took the time to explore a bit, wandering through the gardens and the grounds, not yet knowing what I was looking at but enjoying it all the same.  Everywhere was something a student or staff member had made.  Metalwork abounded, paintings were on each wall, and live music floated through Keith House from the dance hall.  There were little surprises everywhere, including some small mushrooms turned from wood and hiding among the gardens near the History Center.

The welcome orientation was interesting, full of good information interspersed with the first few stories of the school - a theme that would be slowly built upon as the week progressed.  We were given the somewhat peculiar order of business for meals - developed and mandated by Dame Olive Campbell herself upon the founding of the school (more on this in another post) - and told of the various opportunities outside our chosen classes available during the week.  Demonstrations of other disciplines would occur often, and each night a free concert or dance would be held.  The orientation was perfectly timed as the dinner bell rang only moments after we were let out.  Dinner was simple but good, complete with dessert and real honest to goodness sweet tea (right down to the pitcher of sugar syrup instead of sweeteners or granulated sugar).

Bidstrup House

After dinner we went to our prospective studios to meet our fellow students and our teachers.  David Brose, our teacher for the week, brought us to his office in the History Center instead, giving us a chance to not only peruse his interesting collection of archival information, old instruments which the banjo could call its ancestors, and the various collected items showcasing the long history of the Folk School and its founders.  He showed us his N'Gonai, an ancient African instrument from which it is believed that the modern banjo eventually sprang up.  It is an imposing instrument with a snakeskin over the resonating gourd and a large ivory spike serving as the neck.  Sadly, the snakeskin has given out and it's currently unplayable.  David hopes to remedy that situation soon, and I hope to hear a recording of it when he does.

In the History Center one can see Olive Campbell's desk, including photographs of her using it in what is now called the Farm House, one of the old looms from when she was around, and even a banjo from the civil war era.  Not only did we get to see this early example of our chosen instrument, but David tuned it up and played it for us!  Scattered around the school are several of the original chairs built for or donated to the school, with the names of original students and teachers carved into some.  It was a little unnerving to sit in a chair that old and with such a history, but we soon got used to it.

After our brief meeting and introduction we were off on our own - some of us already tuning up our instruments and playing some few songs, others heading off to their rooms to settle in.  Tomorrow, and the whole week as well, was set to be quite interesting.  Needless to say, I was too excited to sleep much that first night.

I have to express my gratitude yet again to Jenna Woginrich of Cold Antler Farm.  Without her, this awesome opportunity would never have been possible for this farming nerd from Washington state.  Jenna, you rock.