Women in Bluegrass Newsletter Archive, Reader’s Edition

No. 10, Winter 1997

Read no. 10

The text

Page scans for this issue are on their way. Until then, the scanned PDF is on Omeka.

Greetings!

Well, we survived another holiday season! And though Ienjoyed my trip down to Georgia to see my family and our tripto Nashville to spend New Year’s Eve at the Station Inn,frankly, I’m glad to be back in the saddle again. A great big“thank you very much and mighty fine” to Alan O’Bryant,who stepped off the stage at the Station Inn and placed hisbanjo in my hands, allowing me to add an estrogen factor tothe on-stage cluster pluck featuring the Sidemen and theNashville Bluegrass Band.

More Nominations for Women

The three thoughtful responses I received to my editorialabout having more women on the IBMA Awards Show(printed inside), all I suggest that we need to have more womennominated as finalists in more categories. While I don’t thinkthis is the only answer, I think we do need to be aware thatwe must use this avenue to gain some much-deserved recognition for women. Let me state loud and clear: I do notadvocate voting for women simply because they are womenbut because many women are excellent bluegrass musicianswho deserve the recognition. (And why do I feel the need tojustify voting for women?)

Remember, the first IBMA ballot is completely open. Youcan vote for whomever you choose. When you vote this year,don’t forget the women! The list of women who havereleased their own recordings this year is amazing. CheckingBluegrass Unlimited’s new releases since March 1996, wefind: Alison Brown, Kathy Chiavola, the Fox Family,Mollie O’Brien, Kate Brislin and Katy Moffat, the NewCoon Creek Girls, Robin and Linda Williams, BarbaraLamb, Dry Branch Fire Squad, April and Beth Stevens,the Nakashima Sisters, Debbie Williamson, JudithEdelman, Kristin Scott, Kathy Kallick, and KateMacKenzie. I am excited that many women are the producers of their recordings and that women are beginning toappear as side musicians on some projects. Lynn Morris,Sally Van Meter, Laurie Lewis, and Suzanne Thomas allhelped out on Kathy Kallick's “Call Me A Taxi,” singingand playing, and Michelle Birkby played fiddle on FrankWakefield’s new CD, “That Was Now…” And while therewere no women included on the tribute to the StanleyBrothers, “The Stanley Tradition,” Laurie Lewis and KathyKallick shine like diamonds on the Monroe tribute CD “TrueLife Blues.” They sing—and play fiddle and guitar—on thebest version I’ve ever heard of the title cut (you can understand all the words). This song could be a strong candidatefor Recorded

Event of the Year, if we vote for it. Thinkabout it, and remember what the women have accomplished this year when you cast your IBMA vote.

—Murphy Henry

Those Girl’s Keys

The Internet was buzzing recently with talk about one ofmy favorite subjects, the keys that women sing in. I havewritten several Banjo Newsletter columns about this subjectover the years. (They are all in my new book—see back pagefor info.) So, I was glad to see someone else start the troubleas Holly Tashian did with this post to the BgrassL:

“I got together with several women pickers last night fora women’s jam session. Lots of fun as MaryE Yeomans willattest. We sang all sorts of bluegrass songs and had funswapping instruments. One thing all five of us had incommon was we played rhythm guitar and sang harmony,with the exception of Debbie Nims, who plays bass as well asrhythm guitar and sings a great lead vocal. We had troublefinding keys for these bluegrass songs, since most of them arepitched to male leads, rather than female leads. Maybe that’swhy more women don’t sing the classic bluegrass songs, atleast not in the keys that most pickers are used to playing themin. It poses a problem for us ladies. Any comments?”

Rhonda Vincent jumped right in:

“Pitches are unique to each person. Whoever is singingthe song should make the song and the pitch their own, nomatter who sang it before or what key it’s in. This is a real petpeeve of mine. Nothing twerks me more than to get in a jamsession and hear someone say, ‘That was recorded in B-flat,so we have to play it in B-flat.’ So what! She sings it in E-flat!

“It may be a classic, but the singer should dictate the key.A different voice calls for a different key. Who knows, youmay invent a nice new approach. I’ve started singing ‘Walking The Floor Over You.’ My husband keeps telling me itdoesn’t sound right. It’s not that it’s wrong, it’s just that I’mnot Ernest Tubb, so it’s not going to sound like him, and Idoubt it’s in the same key. It’s a fun song, people start singingalong, and have even requested it.

“Learning to play in the obscure keys can really sharpenyour picking skills. I recently worked with Scott Vestal—what an amazing talent. I do several songs in E-flat and F-sharp. Silly me, I asked if those keys were a problem. Not atall! He even played most

of them without a capo. I was incomplete awe.

“Don’t let this be a problem. Woodshed at home. Knowyour fingerboard. I know our husbands think we’ve beencooking, cleaning, doing laundry, and making beds all dayand couldn’t possibly have time to pick. But as you’re waitingfor that roast to bake, sit down and pick ‘Rawhide’ in D, andwhile those clothes are drying sing ‘Little Maggie’ in E-flat.And when it’s your turn in that next co-ed jam, sing withconfidence in the ladies’ keys. You GO girl!”

(The Internet continued on page 3)

(The Internet continued from page 1)

Holly answered back:

“I completely agree with this, and I do pitch the key of thesong to the singer’s voice, even if it is in G-sharp. So Iappreciate this vote of confidence. Go, go, go ladies!!!” Then Elena Skye told what I consider a “horror story:”

“At Wolf Mountain Festival in Grass Valley this summer, I was playing at my campsite with some friends and somepickers who had just stopped by. I suggested a song, something classic that I figured everyone would know. I think itwas ‘Little Georgia Rose’ or ‘How Mountain Girls CanLove.’ Then this one guy says with a smirk, ‘ I bet you’re goingto want to do that in one of those girl’s keys.'

“Before I could compose myself enough to answer, hewent on, ‘Girls always want to change the keys to the songs.Everyone should do them in the keys they were recorded in,that’s part of the language. That way we can all play themeven when we don’t know each other. But, hey, I’m gettingused to changing things for the girls.’ “(I’m making him sound more intelligent than he probably was, partially because I agree with the idea that there isa language involved with classic tunes, and that’s why it’s sogreat when someone you don’t know suggests ‘Salt Creek’ inthe key of A, and you can all play like you’ve been playingtogether for years. I guess I would be disappointed if I had totry to do it in B-fiat.)

“Then this lovely gentlemen turns to his friends and,waving a can of beer, says, ‘That’s what make Alison Kraussso cool. She can sing songs in the men’s keys. She just singsthem an octave higher. ’

“Ultimately what can you do? We decided that night, afterthe guy left, that maybe it made sense to try to stick with themore familiar keys for jam situations. Then, when you playthem with your band or record them, do them in what key youwant. Still, if I really have a hankering to sing somethingsimple and classic, I usually go ahead and do it even if it’s notin the original key. I mean, who wants to hear me warble likea turkey in some key I can’t handle? I figure if I deliver thesong powerfully enough, everyone will forgive me for notdoing it in the ‘right’ key. And if they don’t, #@$% ’em.” (The Internet continued on page 7)

(The Internet continued from page 3)

Jan Goldberg had a reply to Elena’s post:

“Is there something written in stone about keys forsongs? Like ‘Thou shalt only sing “How Mountain Girls CanLove” in [the original] key”? [The original version by theStanley Brothers was in A ] I would suspect that the originalversions were done in the key which best suited the originalsinger, not because these guys were aware of some unwrittenlaw.

“In my opinion, YOU should sing them in whatever keysounds best for YOU. Fact is, I suspect some of these ole boysjust don’t know how to play them in ‘girl’ keys. D, C, and Fare a tad more challenging that G, A, and B, you know!”

And, yes, some men did enter the fray. Buddy Woodwardfrom the band Ghost Rockets said:

“I wonder if there were similar grumbles from the oldtimers fifty years ago when Big Mon started doing traditionalstuff faster, louder, and in HIGHER keys. No doubt he had asuitably salty retort.

“So what is the ‘right’ key for a particular song? Whoseversion is the ultimate? Okay, ‘Uncle Pen’ is definitelyMonroe territory (and I’ve usually found women in jams tobe happy to take the tenor parts when the key is too low forlead) and is most familiar in A, but what about moretraditional material? As a banjo picker, E, F, and D make mesweat bullets, but it’s necessary if one wants to become abetter musician. And I know Monroe and Jim and Jesse, justto name two, insisted on doing songs in ‘difficult’ keys, andside[musicians] like Allen Shelton coped quite well. Hell, itwas their JOB to cope. “I can’t help thinking those same people who made rudecomments would be

considerably less likely to gripe about thekey were it, say, Bobby Osborne or Del McCoury who showedup at the jam and asked to sing a familiar song in a key morecomfortable for their range.”

And Toni Murphy sent a letter to WIB on the samesubject:

“After I read your interview with Lynn Morris [WIB #3 ],I took her advice and started singing some songs in atypicalkeys (such as sharp keys) whenever it was truly the best keyfor my voice. I always felt guilty about doing so before I readthe article. Since I do most of the lead singing in our band,I plan to perform my songs in any key I @%!$ well pleasefrom now on!”

Responses To Editorial

Dan Hayes, Executive Director IBMA

...Allow me to respond to the suggestions you’ve madeabout the presence of women on the Awards Show…First, letme make clear that in seven years of producing the show ourtalent coordinators have never excluded an artist based ontheir gender...they have made concerted efforts to featurewomen in past productions, first and foremost because theindividual or group was most deserving and secondarily,because they believed it might provide a balance and focusedperspective on the positive and growing influence of womenin our music.

Your suggestion is loaded with merit, but you must alsorealize that it’s not without its own kind of competition. Thereare very limited performance opportunities on a two-hourshow...The talent coordinators have an obvious mandate tofeature acts who are nominated, but they also can take limitedopportunities to have “theme” presentations to accomplishjust what you suggest. Some of these “theme”

presentationsof music not nominated for awards in the past have includedminority influences, young people, gospel influences, historical presentations, [and] women in bluegrass. Moreover,IBMA has regularly adopted similar themes for…

seminars,storytelling sessions, workshops, artist showcases, and evena marvelous jam session on the main stage of FanFest…Inshort, there’s a lot of evidence that women are not invisiblewithin IBMA…

For this year’s finale, I believe our talent coordinatorswere only consciously focused on doing their very best withinpractical limits to honor a significant anniversary [the fiftiethanniversary of Monroe’s Columbia Recording sessions withFlatt and Scruggs], and to...say goodbye to Bill Monroe andChubby Wise.

Unfortunately, we may always find room for improvement, and hindsight can be pretty sharp when judging how toimprove on a particular moment in our music’s history. If ourshow or any part of it appeared to slight any group, evenunconsciously, my sincerest regrets and apologies…

…Because there are plenty of women out there “who cancut it,” as you so correctly point out, let me suggest aconcerted effort to get them more formally recognized throughtheir nomination. The bulk of performance invitations forthis show are issued to nominees. (By my count, only about15% of all nominations went to women and that’s countingfive final candidates for Female Vocalist.)

Your suggestions will and are receiving attention andcontinued discussion because they are important to IBMA.Because we’re a member-led organization, let me encourageyour active voice and that of others among your readers inassuming the leadership and responsibility for building abetter platform for recognizing the achievements and role ofwomen in our music...

Orin Friesen, Producer—IBMA Awards Show

I appreciated your letter and your editorial concerning thelack of women on the IBMA Awards Show. I, too, amdisappointed that there weren’t more women on the show. Italso bothers me that there wasn’t more international representation. But it gets down to one factor, as you pointed out:nominations.

As producers of the Awards Show since its inception, DellDavis and I are well aware that we need to present a balancedshow, though, for reasons often beyond our control, someshows are more “balanced” than others...Foremost in ourminds when we put together the Awards Show are thenominees. Almost every one of them wants to be on the show,performing if possible. Of course, there are too many awardsand too many nominees for this to be possible, but we do ourbest to get all of them involved. One of the problems is thatwe can’t even start calling people until we get the final ballotnominees. So, needless to say, we are really scramblingduring those last few weeks…

As you pointed out, there were very few women nominated for awards this year. Of those who were...all wereinvited to participate in the show in some form. Suzanne[Cox] wasn’t available, and Alison declined, so that leftLaurie, Lynn, Claire, Missy, and Sally. As great as all thosewomen are, Dell Davis and I are often bemoaning the fact thatthere aren’t more women nominees.

In your letter, you suggested that some women in bluegrass take the attitude that there is “nothing they can do aboutit.” Therein lies part of the problem…Your WIB newsletter

isfine, but it’s kind of like “preaching to the choir.” I don’tthink most men in bluegrass realize that there is even aproblem. [Editor’s emphasis.] And things in bluegrass seemto be changing with regards to the involvement of women, duein no small part to Alison Krauss’s success…

[Regarding the players on “Rose Of Old Kentucky”]...Inlight of Monroe’s passing and the fact that Byron and Vince’ssong [“Rose Of Old Kentucky,” nominated for an award inthe Recorded Events category] would now seem like a tribute[to Monroe], Byron suggested to me that we use Blue GrassBoys. Your suggestion of Gloria Belle (who was on last year’sshow with Jimmy Martin) was not appropriate to what wewere doing, and I stand by our decision to use Neil Rosenberg[on banjo] and Billy Rose [on bass]. One final thing. Laurie Lewis was not rushed on stage atthe last minute. Either she forgot or one of the womenbackstage forgot to send her out…During the rehearsal of thelast part of the finale...Laurie noticed there weren’t anywomen on stage and suggested that she be a part of it. Dell andI both thought that it would be great, especially since Alisonwas supposed to be there but wouldn’t…

Dell Davis and I are both passionate about bluegrassmusic. Strange as it may seem, we both dislike awards shows because we don’t like putting musicians in competition witheach other...The only reason we do the show is so that ourmusic will receive some high-level media exposure…

Thanks for letting me share my inside view of the IBMAAwards Show. And please feel free to make any suggestions,especially before the fact.

Peter Wernick, President IBMA

...First, congrats on the third year of WIB...I also havenoted the greater presence of females in the general pickingranks and am glad to see it…

...There is already throughout IBMA a mostly unspoken“affirmative action” policy. Choices of board nominees,officers, committee members, panelists, Awards Show performers and presenters, etc., have generally been made withclear understanding of the desirability of female representation. In my honest opinion, if there’s any misrepresentationin numbers, it's most likely in favor of choosing females fromamong those qualified. I see the problem as based in therelative numbers of those qualified. It’s regrettable that it’s still this way, though it’s obviouslygetting better. Symptomatic of the problem is the following,which I can attest to as the Chair of the Nominating Committee (we select the slates that run for IBMA Board positions):After the recent call

in the IBMA newsletter for lettersrecommending nominees for seats, all of the letters we gotrecommended males, and all were from males.

You say, “I think and hope that as more women inbluegrass become visible nationally, they will garner morenominations.” I agree. Consider what I think of as the“California example.” In California, many times at bluegrass jams and events, as I look around, I often note evennumbers of males and females (performers, jammers, audience, promoters, vendors, etc.). No one seems to notice orcare. To me, this is the wave of/hope for the future, and it’sslowly spreading elsewhere.

What makes this happen starts with the females themselves. They get inspired to be good, and they work at it, andthey get good. Talent leads to recognition, just as with allgroups...I prefer this system to a quota-type sensibility.

[You said] “the Awards Show must include more women...even if they have not been nominated for a final award.” Ithink this is artificial and inappropriate. Orin and Dell arealready sensitive to the issue of gender representation...Toask for more is almost to include gender representation as partof the mission of the Awards Show. There is already anestablished...path for more females to be on the show.

...You state that the producers should have known thatchoosing past Entertainers of the Year would “inevitablylead to an all-male cast.” Perhaps you’re forgetting AlisonKrauss won the award in ’95 and ’96. She was asked toperform but declined...

...[Y]ou ask how many “were even conscious of theabsence of women.” The work “absence” seems incorrect.Maybe “underrepresentation”? More precise language woulddo better justice to the importance and dignity of the issue.

I’m glad you’re resolved to do something about thisimbalance...But your suggestion is to “speak up” and “sendletters.” I really don’t think that’s the answer. I’m glad to sayyou’re doing a great job at what is the real answer, which isto be talented yourself, and putting yourself forward andencouraging other women and girls to do likewise.

“Why Ruin A Good Hobby?” Fiddler Vivian Williams

by Claire Levine

Seattle, Washington, is a Mecca for folk, swing, old-time,and bluegrass music in the Pacific Northwest. It is also a citywhere female acoustic musicians have made their marks formany years.

Ranch Romance practically made yodeling an acceptablemusical form in the city of cappuccinos. Groups like Noteworthy and its predecessor Lonesome Dove have been featured frequently at festivals throughout the Northwest.Crossfire, which represented the Northwest at the Pizza Hutcompetition several years ago, has a woman bass player andlead singer, Sharon Messina Bubb, and last year’s regionalrunner-up, Who’s Driving, features a female fiddle andmandolin player, Mary Simkin Maass. Washington jams arefilled with women musicians taking instrumental breaks andsinging in whatever keys they like.

It may be coincidental that Seattle is the home of VivianWilliams, but we would guess that Vivian long ago set astandard of great musicianship that has challenged otherfemale residents to play their hearts out. Vivian and herhusband Phil have been in the forefront of the folk andbluegrass community for over 35 years. They have befriendedlocal and national musicians with their friendship, openingtheir home and even their in-house recording studio.

In the late 1960s, Vivian and Phil were asked to be anemergency backup band for Bill Monroe, who was forced toleave the Blue Grass Boys on the East Coast during aNorthwest tour. After her rendition of “Grey Eagle,” Mr.Monroe said, “I have never heard a lady fiddler that couldbeat Vivian, and a lot of men fiddlers can't beat her.” (For thecomplete story, see WIB Number 8, Summer, 1996.)

Although she’s an undisputed talent, Vivian determinedearly on that the appeal of a musical career could not competewith the comforts of home in Seattle. Despite a long historyof performance, writing, and recording, she avoids thebusiness end of music, preferring to play occasional gigs andvolunteer her time on behalf of old-time fiddle music.

Vivian spoke to us over the phone (with the help of a $5gizmo hooking the telephone to our tape recorder). Thefollowing are some of her comments. Unfortunately, thistranscript can’t convey the wonderful sound of Vivian’sjoyous laughter that punctuated many of her answers.

WIB: Can you tell me about where you grew up and howyou started to play music? VIVIAN: I grew up in Tacoma, Washington, and I startedon piano lessons when I was about six. I kept that up for fouror five years, but when I was in the fourth grade they hadmusic lessons through the public schools going at the time,and so I took violin lessons. Actually, I had wanted to takeflute lessons, but there wasn’t a flute teacher available, so Isettled for violin, darn it. [Laughter.] I kept up with those allthe way through

college.

I went to college in Portland, Oregon, at Reed College,and my freshman year was 1955. I got into the folk musicthing, because Pete Seeger gave a concert that year. It was alittle bit ahead of the folk music boom in most of the country,but Reed College was a few years ahead of a lot of other places.I’d say it was Reed and Berkeley and two or three other placesaround the country, where things were already starting to gethopping in the mid-50s. I didn’t make the connection between the violin music thing and the folk music thing untilafter college.

WIB: I’d be interested to hear how you made that link.

VIVIAN: Well, I was fooling around on old-time banjoand guitar. I don’t even know what I was doing on the guitar.Then in 1959, I married my husband, Phil Williams, whomI met at college. In fact, he’s the one who dragged me to thePete Seeger concert. We started getting into what there wasof a folk music scene in Seattle.

Then I started messing around on the mandolin. There’sa certain amount of transference, the left-hand fingering andso forth, from the violin. I was playing little ditties like“Woody’s Rag” and various little simple things. Then Iheard a Mike Seeger record, it was actually the Seeger family,and I think the tune was “Old Molly Hare,” and he wasplaying it on the fiddle. It was real simple, and I thought, “Oh,that’s cool, I could do that.”

Meanwhile, the fiddling that I had heard was bluegrassfiddling. My husband was getting interested in the banjo, andso we were listening to Flatt and Scruggs and stuff like that.I didn’t like the bluegrass fiddling—it was too harsh with allthose weird, sour double stops sliding around. I just didn’t getit. And it took years, a couple years anyway, for me to get soI actually liked that style of fiddling.

Of course now, the weirder and harsher it is, the better Ilike it. But it was a little too much for my classically trainedears to start with.

So I was playing these little, simple fiddle tunes andgetting more and more into it, and in 1962 there was theWorld’s Fair in Seattle, and that brought a lot of folkmusicians in from other parts of the country. We met a lot of people, and meanwhile I'd been playing a little bit of fiddle,and we’d formed a little string band called the TurkeyPluckers, and I learned to play “Orange Blossom Special,”which just wowed everybody, and that was the beginning ofthe degeneration—the long road to infamy.

WIB: I know I mostly associate you with old-time music,since that's mostly what I've seen you play. How has thatcome and gone, old-time, bluegrass, folk?

VIVIAN: Okay, when we were playing with the TurkeyPluckers, that band did not distinguish between old-time andbluegrass, we just played “stuff”The difference would be Phil, myhusband, was playing banjo in thatband, and he’d frail some thingsand he’d fingerpick other things. Other than that, we just didn’t distinguish.

That was sort of an interestingthing, because the people that welearned a lot of our music from werethe folks up at Darrington, [Wash.]and they’re all these North Carolina immigrants who had their owncommunity, and they didn’t distinguish either. To them it was all theirkind of music. And so, an old-timescene per se really wasn’t happening around here back then. It justwasn’t all factionalized like it is now, where the old-timeypeople look down their noses at bluegrass and vice versa. Allthat stuff was not going on. If you were interested in southernfolk music, it tended to be a broader spectrum of stuff, all theway from Alameda Riddle to Earl Scruggs.

WIB: So what were you doing in the rest of your life?

VIVIAN: Well, when we came to Seattle first, in the fallof ’59, I was a graduate student in anthropology at theUniversity of Washington, and I got my masters, and then Iactually did all the class work toward my Ph D. in anthropology, and I kind of lost interest in the whole academic thingand became A MUSIC DROPOUT! Although we weren’tplaying music professionally for a living—at no point did wedo that—it was always an out-of-control hobby that did makea certain amount of money. And my husband was an attorney,still is, he’s sort of on the edge of retiring. And so that was howwe really made a living, except that there was a lot of butterand egg money coming out of various gigs. WIB: How often have you played over the years?

VIVIAN: The last manifestation of the Tall Timber band,which was the one in the late ’70s, early ’80s, was playing alot. We were playing at least once a week, and then in thesummer we’d take little mini-tours, a couple, three weekshere and there. And that was still all on the West Coast. Thatband played a lot. The current band that I’m in now, Williams& Bray, plays every once in a while, five times a year,whatever. WIB: Where is your music taking you now? What are youdoing with your fiddling and other things?

VIVIAN: Okay, still playing in a bluegrass band. I’m notteaching right now, I don’t have

any students, although I dooccasional workshops as they come. I’m playing for contradances. I mean talk about the opposite pole, that’s evenbeyond old-timey because it’s not even southern. This afternoon I’m going to the Old-Time Fiddle Association Christmas Party. So I hang around with those folks.And that’s really cool, because that’s theroots of a lot of this kind of music.

WIB: Are you writing? I know that I'veheard Bryan Bowers do your music.

VIVIAN: I went through a binge of writing tunes like crazy where it was justunstoppable, I mean it was sort of an obsessive thing. And I haven’t written very manyrecently. Every once in a while somethingwill pop up. I think the last tune I wrote, thiswas a very peculiar circumstance. MikeSeeger was preparing that latest album, theFourth Annual Reunion...that silly namethat I can never remember. He wanted torecord something with various people thathe’s played with over the years. So he said,“I want to do one of your tunes, one thathasn’t been recorded before, and one that will work with old-time banjo, with not too many chord changes. You know, ithas to be more or less a style that will work with that.”

And I didn’t have anything! So Phil said, “Well, whydon’t you write one?” And I said, “I can’t do that, I can’t justwrite a tune to order.” And he said, “Yes, you can!” And soI did! And that’s the one we recorded. So that was the last tuneI wrote, it was written to order. At the time I thought it was really weird, but Phil said,“Just sit around and just mess around on the fiddle, and thensome little lick will come up and around that you can build atune.” And he was right. That was exactly how it worked. SoI suppose I could do that again if I had to, but if I don’t haveto—and I’m naturally lazy—I’m not going to. WIB: You very casually mentioned that Mike Seegerinvited you to write a song for his CD, so you must haveperformed with some of the really big names.

VIVIAN: Not so much performing, as just meeting themand jamming with them. Back in the ’60s and ’70s we werevery active in the Seattle Folklore Society. We would bringthese people in, and we have a great big house with a coupleof guest bedrooms, so our house would be where everybodywould stay. We met a lot of people that way, just because theystayed with us, and then we’d jam with them and that’s how we met Mike. And he’s become a real good friend, over theyears. He’s a very cool guy. Then, Ralph Stanley stayed here once. We have anothergood friend who’s one of these guys that has more money thanhe knows what to do with, and so he will invite people overto his place for private concerts, and it’s very cool. So we didone with Ralph

Stanley.

WIB: What was that like?

VIVIAN: It was great! It was easy! It was a very informalsituation since it was a house thing. It was a glorified party,and, you know, we’ve known his material. And he will jamon other people’s stuff. I don’t know if Bill would or not, butI never ran into that situation. But Ralph, you know, somebody would play “Arkansas Traveler,” he’d just go rightalong with it.

WIB: Was it just him, or were the Clinch Mountain Boyswith him?

VIVIAN: No, it was just him.

WIB: And how did he interact with you? Note, this is aloaded question.

VIVIAN: I’ve never had a problem with people treatingme differently as a woman, as a musician. I’ve never run intoit. It could very well be because I’m a different age group. Itcould be that I’m just blind to a lot of the stuff that goes on,and that’s possibly an advantage. If you’re not sitting aroundbeing oversensitive to the way somebody’s looking at you, youknow, you just barge right in and do what you do. That canbe good! It can be helpful!

When we were playing with all those folks from Darrington,they were very old-fashioned, traditional country people, andso the typical jam session situation would be in somebody’shouse. All the men would be in the living room playing music,and all the women would be in the kitchen cooking andtalking about children, clothes and whatever, and I’d be outthere in the living room with the men. And they never gaveme any weird time about that, which, thinking back, I guessmight be surprising. But, I don’t know, I think they were justfloored because I was such a novelty.

Part of it was that I wasn’t from that community. I was acity girl, and so maybe that freed me from a certain sense ofexpectation. But there are a lot of women in those bands, thebands out of Darrington. There are women playing in thosebands. And I don’t know what kind of reaction they get fromtheir families and neighbors and stuff, but they’re real activein the Country Music Association, or Bluegrass and CountryMakers, whatever they call themselves. So, maybe it’s justthat particular community is less uptight about maintainingdominance or whatever. I just didn’t run into that ever.

And I hear all these stories about stuff that happened, andI actually witnessed one. We

were on the East Coast representing Northwest Fiddling for some deal. So we werehanging around with the people from [one of the major EastCoast bands] and they were nice guys, we were playing musicwith them and it was lots of fun, and a couple of the wives ofthe band members, they had been wanting to play, learningto play mandolin and play some music, and they complainedabout being put down and discouraged. You know, we werejust floored, we thought, “What is this?”

Again, that was back then. Who knows if they’ve takenthe blinders off by now? But I guess the West Coast has neverhad that much of that problem. The earliest bands that hadactive, really active women, not just somebody’s wife playingthe bass, have beenCalifornia bands.The earliest onesthat I heard aboutare people like Laurie Lewis. It’s onlybeen much morerecently that youget the same kindof women leadingbands in the EastCoast area.

WIB: Did you ever think about going farther with music,doing it professionally? VIVIAN: No, why ruin a good hobby? The life of touringdoes not appeal to me. Again, my husband and I have alwaysbeen in a cooperative venture on this kind of thing, andneither of us wanted to do a lot of touring. And then the otherthing is, that means you’re not free to do the music you wantto do. Unless you get to the very top ranks and become a bigstar, you have to cater to your audience, tailor what you do tosucceeding professionally. And we just didn't want to do that.We just wanted to do what we wanted to do and have a nicecomfortable home life.

WIB: So...plans, expectations about your music?

VIVIAN: I’ll just continue doing what I’m doing, youknow, I don’t consider myself just a bluegrass fiddler. I do alot of old-time dance music and so forth, and I probably willcontinue to do whatever comes along the pike that looks likefun, and I want to record some more stuff.

I’ve done, how many records have I done? “Twin Sisters”with Barbara Lamb, and that’s an old one, that was from the’70s, and then my solo records, the first one I did in ’78 orsomething like that, which has just been reissued on CD.Then the other ones I’ve done have not been bluegrass at all.“Winter Moon” is the most recent one with Harley Bray, whois in the current band that I play with. And we’re doing a bandrecord, we’ve been working on it for two years, but one ofthese days it will happen. You know how some of theseprojects go.

But then at the same time, I’m working on a couple of old-time dance records that have

nothing to do with bluegrass.Waltzes and polkas and schottisches, and northern kind ofstuff. I’m theoretically working on Volume IV of the Brand New Old-Time Fiddle Tunes book, but it’s actually sitting ina file drawer. One of these days I’ll get to it. WIB: You transcribe them?

VIVIAN: Yeah, and this is not just my tunes, this BrandNew Old-Time Fiddle Tunes is all sorts of composers fromaround here—Hank Bradley, Pat Space, and Paul Gittlickfrom British Columbia and just a whole bunch of people thathave written cool tunes. So when people are looking for newfiddle tunes that nobody’s heard before, there they are. Notthat there aren’t hundreds of thousands of fiddle tunes alreadyout there. Does the world really need more fiddle tunes?

WIB: Well, we could get into a big debate over that. Asa hardcore bluegrass fan, I’ll stay out of this one. Tell me oneother thing, can you characterize the Williams and Brayband?

VIVIAN: It consists of me and my husband Phil, whoplays mandolin, and Harley Bray, who is this great banjoplayer from the Bray Brothers, one of the original guys there,and his wife Shara Bray, who plays guitar. And then if we’refunctioning as a five-piece band, which we do most of thetime, we’ll pick up whatever bass player we can get, and ourfirst choice is Nancy Katz, who used to play in RanchRomance, and if we can’t get her, we’ll get whoever we can.

And then occasionally we’ll play as a four-piece band, andwhen we play as a four-piece band we tend to do a little bitmore old-time sort of stuff. And so the vocals tend to be a lotof these old-time duets that Harley and Shara do real well, andthen a lot of fiddle tunes, and then Phil plays a lot of stuff onthe mandolin that’s kind of old-time. So it’s a bluegrass bandthat has some pretty obvious roots in old-time music. Soagain, we’re doing the same old thing that we always havedone, it’s doing bluegrass with a very heavy old-time component in it.

Vivian's decision to keep her music close to home hasdeprived the national scene of a great fiddler. On the otherhand, the Pacific Northwest has benefited greatly fromVivian and Phil's extensive contributions—of music, time,and spirit. Vivian reminds us of what music is about and whatit has always been about long before Bill Monroe. It’s notabout touring or fame, and it’s not even about performing.Rather, Vivian demonstrates that acoustic music is a gatewayto friendships and community. It's a way of learning aboutsociety and interrelations. And, above all, it can lead to greatcontentment and joy. We thank Vivian for serving as a model,not only as the best lady fiddler that Bill Monroe

ever heard,but also as a woman who has made conscious choices that ledto personal satisfaction. WIB

Bill Monroe: “I have never heard a ladyfiddler that could beat Vivian, and a lot ofmen fiddlers can’t beat her.”

Christmas Present

By Nancy Pate

The spirit of Christmas is embodied for me in its music.I love the carols, the children’s songs about Santa, the songsabout snow—although there’s slim chance of a white Christmas in Georgia! Incredibly, it did snow for a few hours theweek before Christmas. I was in the kitchen baking Christmas cookies with my friend Holly Beth, Christmas music onthe tape player, when snowflakes began to fall outside thekitchen window. We felt like we were in a movie. The snowdidn’t last, but the Christmas feeling it inspired did. And thisChristmas there were many musical memories to keep thatfeeling alive through the bleak midwinter ahead.

My almost-three-year-old daughter learned “RudolphThe Red-Nosed Reindeer” and sang it constantly. She couldnever remember the last line, however, so bereft of an ending,she would go back to the beginning and sing the whole songover again—until she came to the last line which she stillcouldn’t remember, so here she goes once more. About thattime I would jump in to help, but “No!” she cried. “I can doit myself me!” “Rudolph” became the song that never ends.Meanwhile her five-year-old sister was simultaneously singing the giggle-inducing version of “Rudolph” that shelearned from a friend: “Randolph the Red-Nosed Cowboy.”The punch line goes, “Randolph, with your gun so bright,won’t you shoot my wife tonight?” Shades of “Banks Of TheOhio!” More in the bluegrass vein, I had the pleasure of singingChristmas duets with my sister Argen for a group of sixtywomen at the ladies’ Christmas luncheon at my

church.Accompanying ourselves on mandolin and guitar, we performed “Beautiful Star Of Bethlehem,” “Coventry Carol,”“O Come Little Children,” and “What Child Is This?” Thenwe had the fun of teaching these ladies the chorus of“Christmas Time’s A-Coming.” They loved it! Severalwomen later admitted to humming it around the house. It isa catchy tune, and so evocative of that just-can’t-wait-for-Christmas feeling. I had yet another opportunity to play some Christmasmusic on the guitar as background for the children’s Christmas pageant at church. One unexpected advantage of myparticipation was the full-frontal view of my daughter dressedas an angel walking straight toward me—parental heartthrob! The musical collaboration was fun: my friend

Lori onpiano, and the director of the children’s choir, Alexis, onflute. It was a different sound for me, and I liked it. And whatcould be more Christmasy than “Silent Night,” “Away In AManger,” “We Three Kings,” and “Joy To The World?”

A more poignant Christmas memory is hearing my nieceCasey play “Jingle Bells” on the banjo to a handful ofrelatives at the annual potluck Christmas dinner with mymother’s family, the Murphys. Just three tables of folks in thelittle cinder-block community center of Fairview, Georgia,where we once could fill the whole room. Of my mother’s sixsiblings and their spouses—twelve aunts and uncles alltold—only five are living, and two of those were too ill toattend. Maybe it’s the thought of all the funerals past andfuture that made the music and the angels of Christmaspresent shine so bright. With Scrooge’s nephew I can say,“Though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in mypocket, I believe it has done me good and will do me good; andI say, ‘God bless it!’ ”

Girl’s Keys: My Two Cents Worth

Yes, there were grumbles from Monroe’s musicians whenhe moved into unconventional keys. I have starred thispassage in my copy of Neil Rosenberg’s Bluegrass: A History. “According to Monroe: We was the first outfit to everplay in B-flat or B-natural and E. [Great female keys!] Beforethat it was all C, D, and G. Fiddle men had a fit and theywouldn’t hardly tackle it and they’d swear that they wantedto play straight stuff and they figured that that's where Ishould sing.’ [Emphasis mine.]” And talk about originalkeys. Listen to what Neil tells us: “Jimmie Rodgers recorded‘Muleskinner Blues’ in D; Monroe moved it up to G. C, D,and G (as well as A) were the keys typically used by countrymusicians at this time because they were the traditional keysfor old-time fiddle tunes...It is relatively easy to play stringband instruments...in these keys...As Monroe moved songsand tunes up from G or A to B-flat or B and from C or D toE, he went beyond the competence of many fiddlers andguitarists...In insisting that his musicians…play in whateverkey he wished to sing in, Monroe was setting high professional standards...He also expected his musicians to play...traditional songs properly, even if that meant...relearningthe piece [Emphasis mine]...he perceived such music as partof a creative, rather than a fixed, legacy.”

And Monroe meant it not only for himself, but also forWOMEN. A case in point is Rose Maddox’s superb 1962album, recently rereleased on CD, “Rose Maddox

SingsBluegrass,” which Monroe urged her to record. He, alongwith Reno and Smiley and their band backed her up. (DonnaStoneman sat in for Monroe the second day.) I did a wholecolumn for Banjo Newsletter on this recording (Sept. 1996)focusing on the keys in which Rose Maddox sang thesetraditional bluegrass songs, many of which were Monroeoriginals. Check it out: “Roll In My Sweet Baby’s Arms” inE; “Uncle Pen” in D; “Blue Moon Of Kentucky” in C-sharp;“Footprints In The Snow” in G; “Molly and

Tenbrooks” inC-sharp. G seems like a “normal” key for “Footprints” untilyou remember that Monroe recorded it in E, and that’s wheremost fiddlers have learned that classic break. Ditto “UnclePen,” originally recorded in A.

Which brings me to Buddy Woodward’s remark about women being happy to take the tenor part when the key is toolow for the lead. Sure, we would but we've been singing tenorforever. Isn’t that why they let us in bands to begin with? Weeither owned the bass fiddle or we could sing tenor. Or both.We need to be singing lead, because if you know the words andcan sing the lead, then you can have some influence on wherea jam session is going. Or whether a jam session is going toget off the ground to begin with. How many jam sessions havewilted because there was no one who could sing the lead?Ladies, announce your key, and then let’s see if the guys arehappy to take the low tenor to “Uncle Pen” in D because thelead is too high. To borrow from a line from Buddy Holly,“That’ll be the day!” WIB

Ratifications

By Casey Henry

This year we decided tospend our New Year’s holiday in Music City USA:Nashville, Tennessee. Several factors contributed tothis decision: my dad’suncle lives there, a goodbanjo-picking friend of mymom’s just moved there,my grandmother would be visiting there, and Winchester during the holidays is unbearably boring. But none of these reasons excited me as much asthe music we would hear and play. Every time I've been toNashville (grand total: 4) there has been great picking to doand great bands to hear. I've been assured that things are notalways that exciting, but I will continue to suspend mydisbelief until I see for myself. When I move there.

This trip was no exception to my rule, in fact, it was thebest trip yet. We arrived the Sunday before New Year’s andwere immediately treated to the best picking party that I’veever been to. The host was Tom Holzen, a Nashville doctorand picker whose house caused all present to conclude thatwe’d gone into the wrong profession. The house was incredible. People probably drive by and fantasize about what itwould be like to live there. Ithad a five-car garage, more spacethan I’ve ever seen, and was wonderfully decorated. TheHolzens must be incredibly trusting people to let a hundredbluegrass musicians have run of the place.

This party was the top, the pinnacle that all pickingparties aspire to. There were four separate jam sessions goingon at the same time. Downstairs were three: traditional, laid-back bluegrass; progressive high-pressure bluegrass; and anold-time fiddley session. Upstairs was an electric jazz/swingthing that I couldn’t really get into. There

was truly something for everyone. All sorts of people attended: John Hartford, Jason Carter, Billy Smith, Frazier Moss, Mark Shatz,MaryE Yeomans, Roland White, and many more I didn’tknow. The wildest thing that happened was that I met a guywho goes to the University of Virginia. He had actually seenme play at the party I wrote about in our last issue and cameup and introduced himself. He lives in Tennessee, I live inVirginia, same school, same two parties. Weird. The second-wildest thing that happened was that Murphy met a youngfiddler, young being a relative term, older than me, youngerthan Murphy, who was a big Red and Murphy fan. He hadwatched them when he was a kid in Florida and his dad hadsome of their eight-tracks. He didn’t recognize her right awaythough. About fifteen minutes into this particular jam he said,“Say, did you used to sing with a group called Red andMurphy?” “Yep. I'm Murphy." He let out the most awe filled“Oh my God” that I've ever heard. It was like he was meetingEarl Scruggs or something. “Say, did you used to play witha group called Flatt and Scruggs...” I picked some banjo myself, in the traditional laid-backbluegrass group, of course, but I had more fun just observingthe other sessions. It was a very fiddle-oriented party, and nogroup had fewer than three fiddles. What I found interestingwas the way fiddlers interact as opposed to the way, say, banjoplayers do. I stood and watched the old-time session for nearlyan hour, and at times there were as many as six fiddles in oraround the group. One of the fiddlers would start into a tune,frequently without warning and always without a title, if he(for they were all men) even knew the title. Sometimes wewere lucky and got as much as “It’s an old Canadian tune.”The guitar players would join in, but most of the fiddlerswould just hold their instruments and observe, not even play!I got the feeling this was so they would be out of the way ofthe lead player, and so they could absorb completely the tuneand all its nuances. I thought it was great. Now for starters,there would never be a jam session with six banjos and twoguitars. If a banjo player decided to stop playing between herbreaks, hypothetically speaking, of course, because most willnever shut up even for a second, it would be frowned upon bythe other members of the jam session. She would likely bejudged haughty or stuck-up because she only plays during herbreak. Either that or everyone would thank her for the rest itgave their ears. The situation would never arise, but itillustrates a little of the difference between fiddle culture andbanjo culture.

To my great chagrin, Murphy forced us to leave the partyat eleven-thirty. I couldn’t understand why, for the night wasyoung. The fact that the party had officially ended at nineo’clock was irrelevant. The rest of our visit was every bit asgreat as the first night, but unfortunately I have no more roomto relate it. But this party happens every year, and I'm alreadymaking plans to be there next year. So a year from now, tunein for the continuing saga of Casey’s Adventures in Nashville.

New Book!

I am excited! We have just published a 188-page, softcover book which is a collection of my best Banjo Newsletter columns for the past 12 years, 1983-1994. Titled“...and there you have it!” (from a phrase I use at the endof every video lesson), the book features 6 columns specifically about women in bluegrass,12 columns about the adventuresof our kids learning to play, andnumerous columns about my "‘byear” teaching method. The book also contains over25 black and white photos, including one of me in shorts(that's b.c.—before cellulite)and one of me pg—goingbelly-to-belly with one of myfavorite banjo players, JimFee. The color cover showsme with 2 of my favorite things:my banjo and a bag of M and M’s.

© 1997 Murphy Hicks Henry. Used with permission. Transcription and encoding by Women in Bluegrass Newsletter Archive / Tristan Scroggins in 2025. This transcription is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0.