Posts Tagged ‘shows’

Scratchin’ Gravel and Packed to Travel

Thursday, November 5th, 2009
Red Henry

Red Henry

Folks, Chris and I are just getting ready to head out in the morning for a big music weekend far south of here. On Saturday, we (Red & Chris Henry and Their All-Star Band) will play at the Great Hahira Pick-In, which is at Hahira, Georgia, and then on Sunday we play at Dale Crider’s Pithlachocco Music House at Windsor, Florida. Then we’ll spend Monday recording with Dale, and drive back on Tuesday. This isn’t as big a project as the tour Casey’s on, but it’s a pretty long trip! So what do we pack?

Murphy and I learned one thing about packing clothes long ago: When you’re going to play at a bluegrass festival, be ready for ANY weather, from floods, to 103 degree heat, to freezing snow. If you play festivals long enough you’ll run into all three! Any time of year! So I’ve packed day clothes. I’ve packed stage clothes. I’ve packed light clothes. I’ve packed heavy clothes. I’ve put in a raincoat or two. You can’t be too well-prepared for a festival! The clothes are IN THE VAN.

Now, let’s think about what we need in order to find the show and set up there. I’ve put in maps, directions, and a phone numbers for the festival. (Don’t rely on GPS or the Internet to find a place, when you might be in the hills and nothing works! And always have the promoter’s phone number close by!) And I’ve put in our CD table stuff, which includes Red Henry CDs, and Chris Henry CDs, and Murphy Method DVDs, and Sharpies for signing CDs, and some CD display racks and DVD display racks and a change pouch with some five-dollar bills, and band signs, and price signs, and Murphy Method signs, and also (still with me?) the folding table all that stuff goes on, along with a tablecloth. All that stuff is IN THE VAN.

Now, the instruments. Do we have everything? Chris’s girlfriend Jenny Leigh, a fine fiddler, is traveling and performing with us, so we need extra space for instruments. We’ll have our guitars, mandolins, fiddles, and maybe a mandola with us. And what if an instrument should break a string or even a tuner at the show, or need some light repairs or adjustments on the spot? (That happens, and if you’re a long way from home and something breaks, you may be out of luck!) Well, in case of that, I’ve put in my Goody Box. The Goody Box has extra guitar and mandolin strings, pliers (regular and long-nosed), wire cutters (for strings), extra tuners and tuner parts for mandolins, small flat and triangular files (for adjusting nut slots and bridge slots), small and tiny screwdrivers (regular and phillips-head) for changing out tuners and tailpieces, a little steel ruler and some sandpaper (for fitting and adjusting mandolin bridges), an complete extra mandolin tailpiece, and lots of other small stuff. The Goody Box has really come in handy before when an instrument needed help a long way from home, so I try not to go on road trips without it. It is IN THE VAN.

I’ve made sure my electronic tuner is in my mandolin case, along with a lead pencil (for lubricating nut slots) and plenty of strings. Now, finally, we come to what we’ll need once we’re on stage: SET LISTS. I’ve made up the set lists and printed them out in triplicate so I won’t lose them all, and tossed them into my guitar case. So is that everything we need? If it isn’t, we’ll have to do without! All I have to do in the morning is toss the instruments in the vehicle and get behind the wheel. We’ll be “flyin’ south to Dixie” by sunup. See you (excuse me, see Y’ALL) at Hahira!

Red

Picking for Proficiency, Picking for Pleasure, and Performing

Tuesday, April 21st, 2009

Red HenryLast week I had a some music-nights that showed some good examples of how and why I like to play. Sometimes you play for one reason, and sometimes for another. Last weekend I had a solo show scheduled for Saturday night, and I really needed to get in shape, so–

On Thursday, I went over to a place nearby where folks gather for weekly local picking. Well, local picking can vary a lot in its quality and enjoyment, and this evening was about average. When we started, there were several guitar players, including one who could hold a rhythm pretty well; a banjo player, who (unlike most banjo pickers I know) had to be persuaded to take his banjo out of its case, and remained reluctant; also one or two reluctant fiddlers; and me, on mandolin (not reluctant at all).

As often happens in local pickings, the group’s rhythm was a little out of focus. So along with playing most of the lead, I played a VERY simple “chunk”-chord rhythm behind the singers and the banjo player, doing nothing fancy in the way of backup, but just defining the rhythm as clearly as I could. This helped everyone keep the rhythm together.

Along about an hour into the session a couple of good younger pickers showed up, and they put some new vocal and instrumental energy into the music. We picked for about another hour. Getting the lead and rhythm right in that still-somewhat-cacophonous situation really put me through a workout. The session was great for the purpose I had in mind: getting in shape, vocally and instrumentally, for my Saturday night show!

The next night, Friday, I  played with the Winchester Celtic Circle, a group mostly of older folks who get together and play each 3rd Friday at Borders Books. It’s always enjoyable to play music with nice folks, and this evening was no exception. I really had to concentrate, though, on getting the music right– it’s not the kind of music I play every day– and I was pretty tired after we’d played our two hours. But it was fun, and great practice too!

Saturday was my big evening musically, playing a solo show. Now, when you get used to playing solo, it can actually be less work than playing along with anyone else. That’s after you get used to it! I have only played solo a few times and am definitely NOT used to it, so I have to work extra hard to get into the musical and entertaining groove. But I played through a couple of hours of music and stories without any problem, and enjoyed it. This was in large part due to the practice I’d gotten on Thursday and Friday! Playing music sure does make it easier to play music. I guess that’s why people say what they do about practice….

Playing for Nobody, Playing for Somebody, and Playing for Lots of Folks

Tuesday, April 14th, 2009

Red HenryWhen you’ve performed live bluegrass for over 40 years, as I have, you’ve seen a lot of different performing situations. Sometimes, as at a big festival or concert, you have a big crowd who are all there to listen to you. But sometimes you have a small crowd to play for, and sometimes you have very few people present, or at least, few who are listening. But if they are listening attentively and responding, that makes a big difference.

What all this means is that you have to adjust your performance according to the situation. You may have a big set list made up of your group’s very best numbers, all arranged so that you’ve got the best variety and entertainment in the show. That’s what you need to play if you’re in front of a big listening audience, but what if you’re not? In our experience, “What if you’re not” falls into two categories:

1. Sometimes, especially playing at parties or in bars, there may be lots of people there (making plenty of noise, too) but few or none of them are listening to you. In a case like that, you can exhaust yourself trying to play and sing your best show numbers (or even just trying to be heard), so a change is in order. Relax and play easy stuff, and concentrate on hearing each other on stage and getting the picking and singing right. This is also a great chance to practice your newer material, if you can hear each other— but if you can’t, just relax and pick. Don’t wear yourselves out trying to do more. Nobody’s listening, and it’s not worth it!

2. The other kind of small audience is the group that’s really listening to you, and interested in your show. This is actually a really good situation, and often you can often present your best material to an audience like this. (I once saw the Lewis Family do their full, high-powered stage show for a Sunday-morning festival audience of about six people. The people were there to listen, and the Lewises gave them a great show.) With a small, quiet audience, especially if you are not using a sound system, you can establish a familiar rapport with the listeners, talk to them about the songs and tunes you’re playing, tell some stories if the situation’s right, and have a good time all around.

This just came to mind because at a Florida festival recently, Christopher and I played a Saturday show for an audience of eight people. Why just eight people? Well, our set that day wasn’t in the festival program, but had been hastily scheduled in the last couple of days before the show. So not many people knew we were playing, but the ones who showed up were REALLY ready to listen and enjoy our music. We did a quiet, intimate show for those folks, and we had a great time playing and singing. And at the end of the set, we sold eight CDs— one for every member of the audience!— a record which I never expect to break. That statistic, by itself, says a lot about what a good time the audience had. This was the ideal small audience!

The next day, Sunday, we were in a different situation. We played on the festival’s main stage for hundreds of enthusiastic listeners, and we stacked the set with several of our best crowd-pleasers, both bluegrass and original material. And we all had a good time there, too. So there are plenty of ways to enjoy yourself playing for an audience, and at that festival, we found two of them!

Everybody pick purty–

Red

Roadies for a Day

Wednesday, February 4th, 2009

Red HenryI ran across an old photo recently, and was reminded of a day when Murphy and I were roadies. This was in the middle of 1994 (Photo by me. Click on it for a bigger version):

Casey and Chris Henry, 1994

Now you can see who we were being roadies for—our two kids! This is Casey (age 15) playing Murphy’s Stelling banjo, and Christopher (age 12) playing our D-18, and they were performing in front of the old courthouse, on the Old Town Mall here in Winchester. I set up the sound system for them, and they did great. They played a whole bunch of bluegrass songs and tunes, all with their proud parents—and a lot of other people—listening.

Along with moving the heavy sound equipment around I took a few photos, not wanting to restrict myself to just one line of work. For a change, I didn’t have to play music, but could listen and visit with friends in the audience and enjoy the show. So even a dedicated mandolin picker like myself can find a time to be a bluegrass roadie!

Some more WATCHING and LISTENING

Friday, November 14th, 2008

Red HenryI promised that you’d get a follow-up report on the show we played recently with some friends, and here it is. To begin with, Murphy and I walked into the performing venue (the local Moose club) to find that thanks to Charlie and Charlotte, the sound system was already set up and working—a real plus for any job. There were 10 mikes on the stage, all ready for vocals and instruments. They and their band (the Sweetwater String Band—Charlie, Charlotte, Larry, Troy, and me) were to play the first and last sets of the day—at 10:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m. —a pretty long day. So we got on the stage and started the show.

Now, at 10:00 on a Sunday morning you don’t generally expect that the crowd will have shown up yet. We began the set with an audience of 18 people. That didn’t matter, though, because we had a good time playing our set of gospel material. And everybody in the band was aware of the music—WATCHING and LISTENING to what was happening, and responding to each other, which made the music not only better but also more enjoyable. I played mostly mandolin, but picked up the fiddle to play harmony with Larry on a couple of slower numbers.

Then several local bands played their sets, and their sound suffered from a current fad: Instead of using individual vocal mikes, each band wanted to sing around one big condenser microphone. However, in this particular room, that big mike could not be turned up very much without feeding back, so the singing was hard to hear. This went on with one band after another, proving that the bands weren’t WATCHING and LISTENING to the other bands on stage and seeing that the mike setup wasn’t working, but instead kept asking to use that one mike which couldn’t pick up their voices very well.

Also, as I watched the bands, I could see that most of them weren’t listening to each other on stage. They all had a well-practiced set of music to play, but in most cases each band member just played and sang his own part without listening to their whole band and responding to the other band members. This took some of the life out of the show.

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Watch and Listen

Tuesday, November 11th, 2008

Red HenryI recently agreed to play a charity fundraiser with some friends, Charlie and Charlotte and their Sweetwater String Band. I’ve have played quite mandolin on a few gigs with Charlie and Charlotte over the years, but for this show, since one or two of their regular pickers weren’t available, they needed to include a couple of folks I hadn’t performed with before, Troy on banjo and Larry on fiddle.

Now, when you have a public performance coming up, what do you do to get ready? Along with your own individual practice, to make sure you’re warmed up on your own instrument, the whole band needs to get together and rehearse to make sure they can play their best together. So we all got together last Sunday to practice at Charlotte’s house, and started running over the material for the two sets which Charlotte planned to play at the show.

These five musicians had never performed together before, but we all knew what to do: WATCH and LISTEN. To know when to play lead or sing harmony, LISTEN to the bandleader’s instructions and preferences, and remember them. To know when to play backup or be quiet, WATCH and LISTEN to what all the other people are doing, and don’t step on them. To know when to split a lead break, WATCH and LISTEN. Be ready for the subtle, sometimes almost-instant “handoff” from the other lead player, so that you can take over the second half of the break without hesitation.

This also brings up some “Don’t’s” which you can figure out well enough: when playing, DON’T pay attention just to yourself as the rest of the band listens to each other and tries to sound their best together. DON’T throw in all your favorite licks at every opportunity, but play (1) what belongs best in the song and (2) what sounds best in that particular group. DON’T make the show all about you, but concentrate on making the bandleader(s) sound as good as you can– they’re the people who hired you. Back them up. That’s what you’re there for.

This isn’t hard, but you do need to have the right attitude. I’m glad to say that everybody knew what to do in the rehearsal, and we sounded fine. I’m looking forward to the show.

Don’t worry, you’ll get a report.

Gigging with Cousin David

Tuesday, October 28th, 2008

Red HenryMurphy and I just played a gig—a music job—with our Cousin David. Now, gigs with David always involve some degree of unpredictability, or, if you like, Adventure. The folks involved were Murphy and myself, our friend Scott, and good old Cousin David.

In this case, the Adventure didn’t take long to start. It was raining, and it was time to go. We were all loaded up to drive to the gig in Cousin David’s minivan when I asked him (loudly, because his hearing’s pretty spacey), “All ready to go?” and he said, “That just reminded me. I left my hearing aid in the house!” So he went back through the rain and got his hearing aid and put it in. Then, sitting next to him in the front of the car, I asked him “Got your hearing aid?” — but I said it very softly, so he couldn’t hear me. Cousin David looked at me. I said, “Got that hearing aid in your ear?” even softer. David smiled at me. (He’s really good at covering up.)

Cousin David is not spacey. So we drove two hours away (in the rain) and had gotten in the general vicinity of the gig, and David said, “I meant to find out directions or print out a map of where to go, but I just never got around to it.” So after driving in circles (and triangles, and rectangles) for a while, he called the place for directions. Then we got there. But he is not spacey. It was an Adventure.

It turned out that in order to set up David’s sound system for the gig, we had to carry all the equipment into a big building, move it down an elevator, and set it up in a big lobby nearby. It was a long way. So we all got to work, and just did it. We hustled setting up all the microphones and cords and speakers and cables and all that stuff, and had the sound system ready a whole 11 minutes before it was time to start. Not bad; I almost had time to get my mandolin in tune! More adventure.

So far, the gig had consisted of rain, being lost, moving sound equipment, and stringing together various wires. But now came the good part. Murphy kicked things off with “Lonesome Road Blues” and Scott followed that with “Moonlight on My Cabin,” and we were off. Murphy, Scott, and I alternated in playing and singing various bluegrass favorites for the folks. It was an older audience, so we played plenty of songs and tunes they’d recognize. They liked us. I saw people singing along with Murphy’s “I Saw the Light” and my “Mountain Dew” and Scott’s “When the Saints Go Marching In.” Cousin David played bass and contributed a harmony vocal here and there. We played three sets of good music, and it was fun.

Then, it was back to messing with the sound system: coiling up the cords, packing the equipment up, and moving it back upstairs and out of the building and into David’s car. We drove back to his house just in time for Scott to get in his truck and leave to play another show that night with his own band.

So, it was all an Adventure. There was lots of rain. There was some getting lost. There was plenty of hauling sound equipment around. But you know what? We all had a good time, and the people liked us. And Cousin David’s not a bit spacey.

I Wish It Was Always Like This!

Tuesday, October 7th, 2008

Red HenryI’ve written a couple of articles recently about how it is when things go wrong on a gig. This time, I get to write about a time when things went RIGHT!

Murphy and I live on  a wooded mountainside in rural Frederick County, Virginia. But we’re not in the middle of nowhere, because North Mountain Volunteer Fire Department is less than a mile from our house. That’s reassuring. The fire department exists largely on donations from the community, though. Murphy and I, being musicians, can rarely toss much cash into their “Boot Drive” each year, so we donate by playing music for their annual yard party. We get to play music and have fun and see a lot of people, and make our contribution to the fire department at the same time.

When the fire department called this year, asking for a couple of hours of music at their yard party, I agreed to play. But I hadn’t taken the precaution of making sure that Murphy would be in town on that date! It turned out, a few weeks ahead of time, that she had to be out of town. Still, we were scheduled to provide the music. I’d hate to call the fire department back and cancel. I could do the performance solo, but it wouldn’t be much fun. Not only would it be good to have two people on stage instead of one, but I needed help moving the sound equipment and setting it up! What could I do?

Well, I started calling up a few pickers we know and like, and to my relief our Cousin David could play that day. Cousin David is best known for his mandolin picking, but he can also play guitar, bass, or banjo (or fiddle, or drums, or cello) with equal facility. So I was set—whether we found any more pickers or not, we could play a lot of music and have a good time.

On the day of the gig, David called. He said, “My friend John would like to come along to the gig and hang out.” But, I remembered, John is a bass player! I said, “Ask him to bring a bass!” David said, “Would you like him to play?” I said, “Two hundred per cent!” So John came along and brought his bass, and we had a band.

We arrived at the fire hall an hour before we needed to start, and began unloading our sound equipment from the van. We had the customary deluxe bluegrass-music stage (a flatbed truck), so we were in familiar surroundings. We went to work running cords around and hooking all the microphones, amplifiers, and speakers together. Now, both Cousin David and John are quite experienced musicians, and I didn’t have to tell them what to do—like Murphy and myself, they’ve both set up sound for decades. We had our sound system set up, turned on, adjusted, and ready to go in 11 minutes! —a record. We had over 45 minutes left for tuning up, relaxing, and getting ready to play.

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Music In Motion

Tuesday, September 23rd, 2008

Red HenryFolks, here’s a 1980 video of a Red and Murphy band performance that was posted on YouTube recently:

This is our Red and Murphy band with Nancy Pate, one of Murphy’s sisters, singing her song “Mountain Laurel Man”. The whole scene brings up a lot of nostalgia. The band included Murphy (banjo), myself (mandolin), Murphy’s sisters Nancy (guitar) and Laurie (bass), and excellent musician Tuck Tucker (dobro). We were performing outdoors to a packed crowd at Bullwinkle’s in Tallahassee, Florida, on a Sunday afternoon in August, and the local university station, WFSU-TV, was taping our show. Nice opportunity, right? Right. Except for the details:

We were playing three sets not only outdoors, but facing the sun, in the late afternoon. In August. In Florida. The temperature was about 103 degrees, and in that direct sunlight, the heat was hard to describe. Tuck burned his hand on his metal dobro resonator. I changed into a clean shirt at each set break, and was still soaked to the skin by the second number when we started playing again.

Sometimes you wonder about the final product, too. WFSU made a 30-minute bluegrass show from all that tape, and sometimes I couldn’t tell how they’d selected and edited the material. For example, at one point in the second set, Murphy played Foggy Mountain Breakdown. Trouble was, she broke a string partway through, so Tuck and I had to finish out the tune trading breaks on mandolin and dobro while Murphy was at the back of the stage changing the string. So we were lacking part of the band—the most important part, on Foggy Mountain Breakdown—and Murphy was visible on screen changing the banjo string—but out of the 40 or more numbers we played that day, FMB was one of the 8 or 9 numbers which WFSU included in the televised show!

Seeing the clip also reminds me also that this was one of the first jobs Tuck played with us. His first two or three gigs with us were in REALLY hot situations—he may have wondered just what he was getting into—but Tuck was a trooper, and he just played on through the heat. Stayed with us for the next six years, too. Can’t ask for more than that.

By 1980 we’d developed a habit when we went out to play, of being ready for any weather from 20 degrees to 100 degrees, and wet weather as well. In Florida, as in other places, it went with the territory.

This was supposed to be easy!

Friday, September 19th, 2008

Red HenryWe recently played a gig here in Winchester which will live in memory. A local organization called us to provide some bluegrass music for an hour during their annual picnic—obviously, a pleasant event. We’d need to set up our sound system, and their music budget was not up to our usual price, but what the heck. It was a picnic at the city park, and they only wanted an hour of music. So we took the job.

Since the budget was a bit low, our band consisted of only three people: Murphy, myself, and our Cousin David. We don’t need any more people to sound good, so we were really looking forward to the gig. Then, on the morning of the job, it started to rain. Lightly. But wetly.

What fun is this? Fortunately, I’d loaded part of the sound system the day before, but now I loaded the rest into the van in the rain, along with our instruments. We drove over to the park in plenty of time, but then found that we couldn’t park close to where we needed to play—we’d need to move the sound equipment about 100 feet from where we’d parked. And it was still drizzling. Fortunately, I’d brought along our hand-truck, so somewhat tediously (and damply), we got the sound system moved into place and set up, and got our instruments out and in tune.

Then the person who hired us made a special request: Could the people speaking at the event use our sound system? Well, sure. I rigged up a separate mike for them to use, and after an introduction, a Local Dignitary began to speak.

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