GALAX, Va. Ellie Massey, 13, practices singing the gospel song “I’ll Fly Away” while standing inside a huge yellow tent with dozens of other competitors.She is accompanied on guitar and mandolin by her uncle Jacob and granddad Jim Coleman.
Here at the Old Fiddler’s Convention, Massey, who has the number 22 pinned to her clothing, is one of 120 persons ready to take the stage for the Folk Song competition. To help her, her family has traveled almost 300 miles from East Central Ohio.
“I’m a huge fan of singing. Dancing is something I adore. Massey says, “I just love Bluegrass,” adding that pop and rock are more popular among her pals back home. Her musical preferences are ridiculed by others.
Massey says, “I don’t get mad or anything,” in a straightforward manner.
The convention is celebrating its 89th year, making it the oldest continuous Bluegrass and “Old Time” music event in the United States. It takes place in August for six days. The majority of competitors are amateurs. About 30,000 singers, artists, and fans attend the event, and hundreds of RVs fill the city park here in the mountains.
The Moose Lodge in the area hosts the convention. Tickets range from $10 to $15 per day. People watch artists compete on the banjo, dobro, dulcimer, guitar, and autoharp while setting up their folding seats in front of the outdoor stage.
According to Trevor McKenzie, who is the director of the Center for Appalachian Studies at Appalachian State University in Boone, North Carolina, “this is like the World Series of fiddler’s conventions.” “This is the place that’s seen as very much the heart of this music.”
According to McKenzie, old time is a fast-paced dance music that has been around for hundreds of years and incorporates instruments from many countries. The violin was imported from Europe by white settlers. The banjo, which is descended from West African string instruments, is linked to enslaved people. According to McKenzie, another custom that reflects some Native American customs is flat-foot dancing.
“You talk about America as a melting pot, there’s a fire up under that melting pot and so it’s not always been the most comfortable history,” McKenzie adds. “But this is a positive, this is the stew that comes out of it.”
But there are problems with the Old Fiddler’s Convention. The number of viewers and participants is still lower than it was before the pandemic. Other festivals are competing, and some of the elder performers have passed away.
“We’re trying to keep Old Time and Bluegrass music… going, keeping it alive,” says 81-year-old press chairman Tom Jones of the convention.
Developing up-and-coming performers like Massey is one method to achieve that. Over 100 children between the ages of 7 and 15 participated in the convention’s youth competition. Beyond the stage, however, is where the real action happens—under the tents set up between RVs, where bands and old friends jam for hours on end.
Raistlin Brabson plays the violin for leisure and works in electronic maintenance around an hour and a half distant. He’s learning an old-time song called “Shootin’ Creek” today from guitarist Shay Garriock, a violin maker with a shop in Raleigh, North Carolina.
When Brabson remarks, “I really like Shay’s playing,” “I’ll . . . usually just think of a song and then bother him at one of these conventions to learn.”
Brabson has a long history of fiddling.His great-great-grandfather had the fiddle that he is holding on his shoulder; it was made circa 1900.
Garriock notes that he first heard Brabson’s ancestor perform on a song called Blue Ridge Barn Dance. “I knew about your great granddad before I ever met you,” he says.”When I figured out you were his great-grandson, I thought that was really cool.”
While the men are still playing, 15-year-old Margo MacSweeney gets up on a piece of plywood and starts to Flatfoot dance. She occasionally slips from side to side and kicks up her heels.
“It’s a little bit different from clogging,” says MacSweeney. “It’s like smaller steps, lower to the ground.”
An hour’s journey away, MacSweeney attended a Friday night jamboree at the Floyd Country Store, where she learnt to dance. MacSweeney’s mother, Robyn Reitz, attributes her daughter’s passion of mountain music to her first banjo teacher.
Reitz remarks, “He cares so much for the children… and passing on the tradition, so it doesn’t die, and we’re not all just staring at our cell phones,” while her daughter keeps dancing to the tunes of the guitar and violin. “It’s just so beautiful.”
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