New Trail Coaching, Scott Malyszka

I’m home after a full week at Rocky Mountain Fiddle Camp. My first time at one of these things, and it was really great.

As far as classes go, there were lots to choose from. I did old-time with Matt Brown, swing with Andy Stein, and PEI Scottish style with Ward McDonald. I also did Irish guitar with Dennis Cahill, and I took in a couple sessions of Scottish song with Ed Miller. All of the classes were top-notch, not a stinker in the schedule. Some instructors did the usual thing of teaching tunes and letting the tunes bring out technical points about the style being taught. Andy went over technical and stylistic details rather than having us stumble through tunes, and this was great for me. After his classes, I would go back to my room and write down notes on all the stuff he showed us. He did a lot of hand-over-hand with me, and I really feel and hear a huge difference from that. Dennis also talked and showed us things rather than pile on the tunes. After a couple hours with him, I was all fired up with new ideas, and I actually couldn’t sleep that night because I kept thinking about all the stuff I had to figure out on the guitar.

The camp facility itself was a bit primitive for my taste, but I’m a fussy city guy. It was held at a Y camp two hours west of Denver. Dirt paths, no sidewalks, no stairs to get up and down steep slopes. Industrial-strength cafeteria food too. But there was the option to get a private room with a private bath, kind of like an inexpensive motel room. So it wasn’t optimal but it wasn’t too bad. I’d much rather see something like this done at a college campus, which seems to be the trend here in the east for music camps..

The folks at the camp were all super friendly. I come to this from the hectic northern VA suburbs, and I’m not a very patient or subtle person sometimes. It was refreshing to be around so many like-minded music people who were all feeling very happy, peaceful, and friendly. I made lots of friends, and a few drinking buddies too. I learned how to do a real country waltz (not just step around and count to three) along with some square dance steps, jammed with some folks, listened in on other folks jamming, and just had lots of fun.

Definitely worth checking out if you are looking for a fiddle camp. http://www.rmfiddle.com

Last weekend I spent an afternoon with a friend at the Potomac Celtic Festival in Leesburg VA. Liz Carroll and John Doyle played the most awesome sets and met my high expectations.

Here’s a video of this great duo: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtH4aGb04Og

Doyle is one of the best acoustic guitar players in any style, and he has really drawn the map for me in guitar picking over the past few years. Carroll plays the fiddle with such sweet energy and such a vocal expression, and she writes more tunes than anyone else I can think of. And the tunes are all great.

At the festival there were other musicians that were good and very good. The crowds seemed a bit sparse, which is too bad. As the day wen on, I was so struck by the difference in the sound and emotion from Carroll + Doyle versus just about everyone else. It really stuck with me that their music was that much more inventive, fiery, and daring. I hate to sound like I might be putting down other performers. Like I said, everyone else was pretty good. But Doyle was the only guitarist that day who was going beyond the three-chord trick. He plays with a complete jazz mind, just painting colors with imagination, chords and rhythms that jump out spontaneously and dance. They had drive and groove going for miles. And that’s the whole point of fiddle-based music for me–to create great energy, emotion, and rhythm, to create smiling faces and tapping feet.

I had a nice little gig at the Northern Virginia Fine Arts Festival yesterday. This was a quick 25-minute set at Reston Town Center. The stage was set up in a park right on the cement under a tent, with grass and cement terraces where folks could sit and listen. We were also within earshot of a lot of the festival’s artist booths. The park is surrounded by office buildings, condo high rises, restaurants, shops, and some low-rise condos too. It’s really a nice spot to play–not a lot of traffic noise, a natural amphitheater feel, and the sound bounces off the surrounding buildings. Feel The Wag played at this spot last summer and had a fun time.

I played my originals, and my friend Marcy Cochran played fiddle and mandolin. Marcy broke a fiddle string while taking her instruments out of their cases, so that was a bit inconvenient. Once we got started, the sound system was good. My voice felt great, and the folks who were listening gave us some nice applause and cheers. I felt great singing, not having trouble getting my voice warmed up at all. Marcy’s fiddle tone is tremendously rich, and she plays an old-timey improvisation style that is a lot like mine. She also sounded good on the mandolin, plus threw in harmony vocals on my “I Don’t Have Friends Anymore,” which was a nice surprise to me. Hopefully we can do some more duo things like this in the future.

And now comes the nerdy self-analysis. It seems I’ve started a trend that needs to stop. Like a performance back in February, I blew out the bottom of my vocal range after about four songs. This never used to happen to me. Robin thinks that I need to watch what I eat and drink before I sing. I used to eat anything salty or sugary before singing and could just go for an hour or two, so I wasn’t buying it at first. But then I thought about it, and of course she’s right. So next time I will watch the coffee, ginger ale, salty food, etc. before I sing to see if that helps. I also need to try to warm up a bit more if possible. Usually you just run up there and sing, with no chance to warm up. But I could aways walk off somewhere and do some vocal exercises for three or four minutes to help. I’ve been thinking the past winter was pretty hard on my voice, so maybe it’s just some weak vocal muscles that are causing the blow-outs. Maybe it’s age. But it’s small stuff that should be easy to solve.

And the blow-out didn’t hurt the music much. Folks still liked it, and I sold a couple CDs. We also got to see Richard White with his groovy ensemble: a guy on bass and another guy on hand drums with Richard playing his spiritual electric guitar. I’ve seen Richard a lot solo, and this group thing really brings out his tunes in a great way. Bernie Muller-Tyme played after us, and he was just exploding with energy and coolness. He did a funky folky version of “Should I Stay Or Should I Go” and had some other good originals with beautiful singing. The Second Wind Bandits played last, and they were a treat. They did some nice folky country rock originals that sounded real good.

The only negative thing I heard about the festival was that some folks had trouble getting a quick bite to eat. It seemed like there weren’t many options to grab something on the run, and a few folks said they missed our set because it took so long for them to get some food. But we did have a lot of friends there to listen and say hello, which is the best part of it all. This was a really nice day, and I’m looking forward to the festival again next year.

Last night I caught a nice show by blues guitarist and ukulelist Del Rey.

Here’s some cool uke: http://www.youtube.com/watch

I spent a few hours last night with my friend Les editing and mixing songs for my next CD. We got through two songs, and there were a couple of obvious lessons here.

Lesson: If the timing is off, we can’t use a part. It’s not a new lesson. A musician needs to work on timing as much as on notes. I think musicians don’t practice their timing (me included) because it seems tedious to sit there in a staring contest with your metronome. But the clunks fly all over the place when the timing is off with any group of musicians.

One time back in the 1980s I was in the music building at my college, just clapping my hands in various rhythms to a metronome in one of the practice rooms. The director of our chamber ensemble stuck her head in the door and said, “Oh, so it has come to this?” She laughed and left. I’m sure she was wondering why her flutist was acting like a third-grader, but I was humbly trying to improve my timing. Decades later I still have plenty to work on.

Lesson: Play something that is compelling. We had to cut out a few instrumental solos last night because the lines just weren’t compelling or interesting. If there’s going to be a solo, it needs to have some melodic momentum, some entertaining contribution to the whole thing. I’ve seen this a bunch in live performances too. It’s your turn to take a solo, and you’re not ready for it. You play some three-note thing trying to keep it safe. Best thing is to be bold, stick your solo right out there and play something convincing and worthwhile. It’s scary because we all make mistakes when performing. It’s terrible to think that you might mess up your solo, so you just play something timid and seemingly safe. But a guitar or fiddle solo never works if it’s timid. You have the spotlight, so have a ball with it.

I think this shy solo stuff can be solved when practicing. A musician needs to rehearse mentally for the whole experience of taking a solo. Think about the melody, the message of what your part needs to do. Have some fun practicing the spontaneous composition process, so that you’re not caught with your big eyes blinking in uncertainty when the performance moment comes.

OK, so that’s my lecture to myself for today. Work on timing, and practice some bold solos that add value to a piece. On we go.