Dec. 31, 2011
[Watch Video Here]
A new band was born tonight at Jenny and Randy Boyd's classy Scottish pub, the Jig & Reel, in Old Town Knoxville. Friendship, respect, skill, preparation, and crazy energy mingled to produce the merriest, dancing-est New Year's Eve in memory.

The lineup consisted of the superb Asheville piper and my great friend EJ Jones; EJ's girlfriend Rosalind on bagpipes, bombarde, and bassoon; Frances Cunningham of Nashville playing bouzouki; and Chad Melton, the ultra-creative Knoxville percussionist.

An amusing side note: after the show several fans remarked with admiration over our ability to simulataneously march and play as we processed into the club peeling the tune, "Scotland the Brave." I wonder: marching and playing, is that considered a feat of extraordinary prowess? What of breathing while playing?!

During the afterglow, as the bar staff was gathering the empty pint glasses and the dancing college students had drited away to some continuing frivolity, the five of us happy musicians mutually agreed that this combination was too good to let slide into the annuls of gig memorandum. It seems it's time to break out a bottle of Champagne and start thinking up band names!


Dec. 20, 2011
Iron skulls persistently bobbing for oily libation, mindless paleo-robotic creatures fixed upon the featureless landscape of a garishly mechanized futuristic world. But this is not the future, it is now.

Just down the road I pass frenzied holiday shopping activity at Wal-Mart, Target, Lowe's, and Toys-R-Us, whose parking lots are crammed with Suburbans and pickups. In the next block, several gas stations, corporate sellers of ground cow parts laced with MSG, and a neighborhood refinery.

Suddenly I hear mad honking behind me. In my rear view mirror I see the face of a snarling woman behind tinted glass of a big black SUV. She's frantically swerving, screaming, flipping me off, trying to get around me. There's a car in front of me and another to my left -- don't know what I'm supposed to do, exactly, or what I might have done to make her so upset. She squeezes up beside me, rolls down her window and screeches at the top of her voice something about "... F * * * ing ... F * * got...", then roars away.

Such was the backdrop for the final engagement of my California Solstice tour.

The Kern Council for the Arts represents the flip side of Bakersfield. Thanks to Jill Egland and a team of devoted humanists, an impressive program for elementary education is in energetic motion. Bakersfield is home to over 500,000 souls, and Kern Arts wants to give the kids a better future. Artists and performers are preened to visit marginalized public schools and work with kids to broaden their scope of creativity, empowering them to think outside the box, develop skills the didn't know they had, round out their knowledge of geography, cultural history, and (indirectly) improve their math through learning about music.

When I set about the task of planning my tour bookings, the inevitable question always arises: "With so many lovely areas throughout the U.S., and so many hamlets of well-informed audiences from which to choose, should one willfully plan a tour into a down-trodden, bleak and struggling area? Doesn't it make sense to go to cheerier, greener places where success and happiness is assured?

My response to that question has to be this: "Should one abandon a kicked puppy?"

I've decided to return to Bakersfield in September to spend a week working alongside Kern Arts, hoping to make a difference in the lives of some of those youngsters. I think the way of the world comes down to balancing all the forces.


Dec. 6, 2011
In normal circumstances I would have been due for a break after so many consecutive performances throughout the Southeast. Instead, I shipped off to southern California and hit the ground running.

First stop was San Diego, where I delivered three lecture/demonstrations at Cal State San Marcos. Bill Bradbury's recording techniques class was exceptionally fun. The students conducted microphone tests with me in the studio, and then we all sat together discussing the ins-and-outs of recording stringed instruments. In the process I even learned several new ProTools techniques from Bill.

Next up was Encino, where, in spite of smaller-than-usual numbers, I was given a very warm and appreciative reception. Among the several regular fans in attendance, Jessica Sterling, my talented photographer friend from L.A., flattered me by her presence. Afterward, as I drove down the streets of Pasadena en route to my lodgings, I was flabbergasted to see the mountains of debris and fallen trees strewn recklessly over the streets by the by the tremendous wind storm which had just hit the night before. Power was out, so we went about by candle light. I read somewhere that the amount of energy released by a hurricane in 10 minutes is equal to detonating all the nuclear bombs on earth simultaneously!

The Harveys are a charming and generous family who hosted a concert for me in their Ventura home. Beforehand, I greatly enjoyed teaching lessons to Katie and Thomas, who struck me by their skill and aplomb in playing Cape Breton music. After the concert a late night jam session ensued, with Katie switching effortlessly from fiddle to exceptionally well-played Cape Breton-style piano!

Early the following morning I blasted off eastward to Tehachapi, arriving in time to teach a fiddle workshop. To my delight, Morgan and Taylor Welch were there, along with four bubbly, enthusiastic new students. The concert that night was organized by my splendid friend Andrea, and it all came off beautifully. I appreciated that several prominent local musicians attended the show. Later in the week Andrea took me to visit the Buddhist temple which is nestled idyllically in a hidden canyon flocked with black pine and oak. Although I am not (currently) Buddhist, Andrea and several other friends have introduced me to this very down-to-earth spiritual practice.

Brilliant blue wintery skies over the soaring Sierras greeted me as I arrived Bishop. The matinee performance at the Inyo Arts council met with a moment of drama. Just as I had finished reciting a poignant Orcadian poem about the unity of people and earth, the lights and sound system went dead. I proceeded, unplugged, to play the haunting tune, Da Day Dawn by the light of the twinkling Christmas tree. The mood couldn't have been sweeter if it had been planned. Only problem was that about 3 minutes into the arrangement the techie flipped on the breaker -- right in the middle of the song. Alas, the chilling effect was lost!


Nov. 29, 2011
EJ Jones, David Brown and I just taped a Christmas T.V. show called "Heartland" which will be aired in the greater Knoxville area on Dec. 22 and Dec. 24. The location was a beautiful spot in Tennessee called The Museum of Appalachia. The principle backdrop was a huge fireplace with an unbelievably big Yule log meant to burn for 12 days. What a broiling place to be standing during take-after-take clad in a heavy wool jacket, kilt, and thick wool kilt hose! Supplemental shots were taken outside among the authentic Appalachian chink log homestead structures with sheep and guinea hens ambling about. For posterity, they even captured a shot of us playing as we walked away into the sunset!

Nov. 16, 2011
Day off: breakfast with a board member of the Charlotte Folk Society, drive to Asheville in time for lunch and planning session with piper EJ Jones, conference call with agent Janet Kenworthy, reunion with my accommodation hosts Chari & Bruce, conference call with social media consultant Sarah Bhatia, several calls to students, conference call with a new venue in my upcoming California tour, wrapping up the day with 4 hours of emails and website updates.

Enough of this laziness, now it's time to get to work!

The North Carolina Presenter's Consortium in Durham proved eye-opening and yeilded a number auspicious musical connections. Almost without exception, the showcase performances knocked my socks off with beautifully-prepared "thumbnail sketches" of each artists' act, complete with "Let-Me-Entertain-You" stage craft and amusing dialogue.

Friday's engagement was a wine dinner concert at Stonefield Cellars. The slightly chilly but atmospheric barrel room fit nicely with the story line of a Scottish Celidh held in a highland whiskey distillery. The next day, Bill and Nora Yearns hosted a very classy musical gathering in their lovely Greensboro home, the guests responding rapturously to the program. Their guest room was fitted with a sumptuously luxurious bed that felt like I was sleeping on a cloud.

The highlight of the weekend was the performance and lecture at Davidson College. Thanks to the expansive view of the relevance of global music held by Jennifer Stasack, chair of the music department, as well as numerous other faculty, my performance and discussion of the origins of Celtic music was received with utmost respect and praise. I have long hoped for the marriage of a global view of music with the changing strategies that have developed in education. Davidson college seems to be on the front edge of this curve, and it's clear that my weekend's introductory engagement will lead to some very exciting future collaborations.

Nov. 5, 2011
Soil rich with dolomite, calcium, and magnesium, so I have learned from Nora Murdoch and David Keller, the hosts of this weekend's extravaganza concert event, is the reason that Hickory Nut Gorge has noticibly more vivid and long-lasting Fall color than elsewhere in the State.

This year's annual "Bat Dave Bat Cave" concert continued the trend of each bettering the last. David brewed a dozen superb beers for the occasion (of course my favorite was the Scottish Strong Ale), and the place was packed to capacity. Joining me were my two "newer and good-er" friends & colleagues, piper EJ Jones and guitarist David Brown, in an ambitious program featuring no fewer than 13 new tunes including two big sets from Brittany. The audience was superb -- so knowlegable and vocal in their rapture and praise. And what could be better than the attendance of nearly the whole of the Irish session community?!

Throughout 60% of the evening the lads and I struck tempos that were well-controlled despite the crazy energy and enthusiasmof the collective. Only in some of the newer material did we hit what I call "Tempo di Regretto." This is a common calamity which I, and other performers, recognize and try to keep in check. One wants to deliver an exciting reading, yet it's hard to avoid the temptation to use fast tempo to create more energy. Usually the opposite happens: when the tempo is too fast, the tune doesn't groove as well, and that, in my opinion, makes for a LESS exciting effect! Well, you can be the judge; there are some new video clips on YouTube.

One of the sweetest moments of all was the next morning when I drove back down to Bat Cave to fetch my gear. En route I stopped off at Ingall's, the local supermarket, for some flowers to take to my hosts. I would normally have visited the organic market for a much nicer selection, but it was miles out of my way. To my delight, a dear, older Appalachian woman helped me assemble a custom spray of blooms, and all the while we talked about music and life in these here "hills." Lynne (with and "E") went about her task with joy and eagerness as if this bouquet was the most important event of her week!


Oct. 29, 2011
Drove 20 hours to earn $200. Ah well, the folks at the Potomac Valley Scottish Fiddle Club were dears and really showed me a generously warm welcome to Washington DC. And driving through the Shenandoah Valley amid Autumn colors was the closest thing to heaven.

Oct. 21, 2011
Student to new teacher: "I've played for 20 years."
Teacher to student: "Really? How much do you practice?"
Student: "Five minutes per year."

Within the span of one weekend I have travelled from the mire of swampy cacophony to the summit of artistic euphoria.

The more I become aware of the reach of my eventual demise, the more often I ponder over what the best application of my effort and expertise should be during the time I have left. Would it not be best (earnings aside) to choosily accept only the most capable and motivated of students in order that my skills and knowlege be passed on faithfully into the furture?

On the other hand, I honestly respect and enjoy the moral and intellectual character of each of my students, regardless of their ability.

Inernal conflict ensues.

After three days of hard chewing on gristle and bran (the only metaphor I can think of at the moment), doubts were begining to pervade. And wouldn't you know, my final student set her bow upon the string and served me up the most delicious musical confection. Her playing was truly splendid. She is a professional classical player who sought to refine her skills in traditional Scottish music. Thanks to her well-formed technique I was able to impart meaningful, and I hope lasting, musical concepts.

Elevated by the lovely sounds of this final student wafting through my head, I drove to Charlotte, NC where I was further blessed by one of the most profound musical inspirations in my career.

Thanks to the generous invitation by my friend Alex Caricco and her family, I was able to attend a masterclass given by world-famous opera singer Denyce Graves. It rocked my world.

After years of being away from classical music, my ears and mind were titilated by the piquant melodies of Puccini and Donizetti. The students themselves were superb, and Denyce had the uncanny ability to further scupt their skills magnificently. During the entire 4-hour masterclass I don't think my eyes were dry once! It was vocal poetry. I am a musically changed person from the experience.

You may ask, "What does opera have to do with Scottish fiddle?" But when all is said and done, musicians are also athletes, actors, psychologists, business people, creative interpreters, and ambassadors of beauty and good will. All musical disciplines have the same attributes in common. Denyce's pedagogical brilliance summoned each of these qualities into harmonious participation. I felt as one with each of the students in turn as their msuical expression was transformed by her teaching.

In short, I am indebted to Denyce for a most illuminating musical experience. Please visit Denyce Graves' [website] to learn more about this wonderful aritst.


Oct. 10, 2011
Although practice time was frequently fractured by the call of booking biz and other duties, I did nevertheless prepare quite carefully for yesterday's concert in Asheville. Rehearsals with David Brown, the superb new guitarist with whom I am very excited to be working, have been proceeding like clockwork since Spring. And during the past several weeks I've been getting back my "classical" technique; how illuminating to regain many of the skills I once possessed as a symphony player and incorporate them into what I've gleaned during the ensuing years!

Thanks to Tony Kiss, editor of the Citizen-Times, Carol Rifkin, features writer, the Laurel Magazine, and the good folks at WNCW radio, along with concert presenters Don and Louise, the promotions leading up to this show were terrific. [read article here] This resulted in a wonderfully full house, among which were an estimated 100 people who had never heard me perform before!

My only regret was a musical one: on the morning of the concert I seemed to have come down with a bit of a flu bug, so that all my muscles were stiff and unresponsive, making it hard for me to deliver the musical phrasing I had in mind. Although I did put the music out there with occasional moments of inspiration, it was definitely not the polished performance I was hoping for.

Okay, "Private Experience", as I call it. Apparently the audience was more than satisfied, as the standing ovation and encore suggested. Big thanks to everyone in attendance, and to Don and Louise Baker and the Unitarian Church of Asheville for making the night wonderfully rewarding.

Sept. 20, 2011
The sweetest little venue imaginable. I had never been to Tryon, NC even though it is only 40 minutes from Asheville. The stage was set in the Lanier Library, one of the few remaining private-public libraries left in the U.S. David Brown and I delivered two 1-hour shows to rapturous audiences.

Aug. 22, 2011
The final disc of Outlander, the slightly schlocky but altogether engaging 26-CD book-on-tape about time travel back to the 1700’s Scottish Highlands, was coming to its fitting conclusion as I dropped down the side of the Smokey mountains to a breathtaking view of the Asheville basin, back-dropped by numerous blue ridges that become ever more hazy as they retreat into the horizon.

Happy was the return from my 2,400-mile drive to the Northeast. Yet as I unpack my bags and start to get caught up on emails, a troubling question slowly dawns: How claim I that Asheville really is home? After all, I've spent most of the past 6 years not living here. Even my best friends are by now little more than fond acquaintances. I breeze into town, collect my mail, and unpack, then almost immediately re-pack for the next leg of touring. This is a scenario I plan to modify drastically during the upcoming season.

That said, the Vermont/Massachusetts tour proved rewarding. At the Piper’s Gathering I heard some truly astonishing and splendid piping from masters such as Tim Cummings, Andy May, Fin Moore, EJ Jones, Dick Henshold, Gary West, and many others.

Three charming house concerts followed which connected me with several old friends and numerous new venue organizers. David Kaynor joined me onstage for some romping fiddle bliss, deftly improvising second-line harmonies on the fly and elevating the already high spirits with joviality which only David can incite. The cuisine provided by Susan Reid and Shawn Brenneman would make Chef Ramsey weep. Thanks, ladies!

A delightful surprise came by way of attending the Irish session at Boston’s Greenbriar Pub. Rippling the session waters was not my intention; this was a wonderful group of Irish ex-patriots demonstrating really fine musicianship and gracious stewardship. I was humbled, almost embarrassed, really, by the applause and attention that the group gave me when I played for them, and was grateful that they made me feel so welcome.

The next day I met with Max Newman, the brilliant young guitarist and Harvard graduate, to whom David Kaynor had introduced me. We spent hours experimenting with all sorts of musical arrangements--with auspicious results. This lad is a true gem and it’s clear I’ll be collaborating with him in the near future!


July 10, 2011
"Don't let's ask for the moon, we have the stars."
(Bette Davis, Now Voyager) Ever-higher challenges were postulated this week during The Swannanoa Gathering's Fiddle Week.

Each year I've been newly amazed and delighted by the eagerness and receptivity of all the terrific students in my Technique classes. During this week of intense study of ergonomics, body movement, positions, technical exercises and ear training, I observe an uncanny transformation in the way students approach their fiddles and their music. I see them develop a calm resolve toward the persistent pursuit of self-betterment.

Meanwhile, the evening faculty performance showcase is always an important highlight, both in terms of illustrating to students where all the hard work can culminate, AND as a professional platform where a performing artist might offer up the pinnacle of his/her artistic endeavors.

Achieving such a goal is no easy task. This season I have been performing regularly as an unaccompanied soloist, a uniquely challenging format which beckons new skills that were hitherto untapped. I'm fascinated by the possibility of a single fiddler creating a magical and engaging musical experience without the help of backup musicians or electronic gadgets such as loop pedals. Some of the tools at a violinist's disposal are: superb technique, tone and intonation, prodigious use of double-stopping to harmonize with oneself, story-telling, humor, carefully-crafted arrangements, and rhythmic foot percussion. A season of touring as a soloist turned out to be the groundwork for Tuesday's staff performance at Swannanoa.

I took the stage bearing a poise that comes from the utmost of preparation, but also feeling the hyper-adrenaline that comes from the prospect of performing to several hundred fiddle connoisseurs.

It was the perfect storm: a good sound system, tight arrangements, mental acuity, note-perfect playing, sincerity of delivery, an astute and passionately involved audience -- all these things aligned. The ensuing standing ovation filled me with immense gratitude and brought a tear to my eye.

Ruthie Dornfeld, one of the other faculty, asked me later where my musical goals might next lead me. I described pursuits such as thoroughly delving into the music of Brittany and the Hebrides, developing increased use of intricate foot percussion, going further with pipe ornamentation in strathspeys, and adding rhythmic double stops to vamp up the groove and reference the chord changes.

...enter Joe Craven...

"I've been listening to you for 5 years," he said, "and tonight was the best I've ever heard you -- you were on fire, you blew me away!" Joe especially liked my so-called "greasy" approach to the jig playing and the danceablility of the grooves. "The only thing that's missing," he continued, "is the use of your voice!"

Kawabunga!, I'm thinking. Fiddle and feet aren't enough?

(An aside: Joe's manager told me that she almost gets motion sickness watching me perform. heh-heh)

I have long taken inspiration from Joe's unique genius. Comparisons often describe us as "Ying and Yang." I wear wing tips, he wears boots held together with duct tape. Where he starts from a point of absolute freedom and abandon, I start from a point of introspection and craftsmanship. Yet in due course his other-earthly inspirations coalesce, just as my exactitude unleashes, and we end up in a vary similar aesthetic: a point in the middle where passion is expressed through beautiful sounds.

An artist sets a ridiculously high benchmark for himself and then strives courageously to achieve it. Once achieved, an even higher benchmark is then set. Joe has presented me with an almost daunting challenge. We shall see what ensues!!!


June 25, 2011
65 people oozed into a 3rd floor convening room in the Historic Gaston County Museum on an uncomfortably hot, humid day to attend my solo concert. Kudos to you all!

I had specially prepared a string of Leather Britches to help introduce Lord McDonald's Reel, a dance tune brought from Scotland to Appalachia and is today still a very popular hoe-down tune bearing the new name. I later talked with Susie Gott who remembers as a child eating dried beans cooked with bacon grease.

Kurt Widenhouse and his wife Joan graced us with their presence, and I was proudly able to perform on not one, but two of his great violins.


May 31, 2011
What could be better than taking the stage before a crowd of hundreds of fans on a glorious, 78-degree Appalachian evening in late Spring, accompanied by three of my favorite musicians, with a goodly amount of rehearsal beforehand and an ideal sound system?!

The White Squirrel Festival was an unqualified success. John Felty, the music promoter, did a superb job creating and organizing this very professional, yet down home festival in downtown Brevard, NC. Zac Leger flew all the way from L.A. The incomparable Matthew Olwell came down from Washington DC. Emolyn Liden provided several perky selections of step dancing. Caroline Smith came from Chapel Hill, NC to shoot video. Making it all possible was my dear friend Peggy Bogardus, who hosted us in her home and managed to keep a crazy group of artists herded to the right place at the right time. And despite this being the heart of Bluegrass country, the crowd really demonstrated their understanding and appreciation of Celtic music. It was a night to remember.

Please check back here for video footage which will soon be available.

May 7, 2011
I spent the day in the company of the great Mark O'Connor who had come to town to perform at the Porter Center and to teach a masterclass. The latter turned out to be more of a Lecture/Demonstration than a masterclass; it was extremely well presented and gave me ideas over which to ponder. Afterward I had lunch with Mark, which spawned an all-afternoon discussion on the universality of all music forms.

Mark's new Jam Session CD, which he gave me in exchange for my Murmurs and Drones CD, is chock full of some of the most astonishing, over-the-top improv I've heard from Mark, Chris Thile, Frank Vignola, and Bryan Sutton. Its spectacular virtuosity gives me pause to re-examine some of the crucial points which Mark brought up in his lecture, namely: "What is American Music and how does it differ from the European model?".

If these questions may be answered in the way Mark answered them, that is to say, "American music is an amalgam of many cultural influences and celebrates improvisation as its cornerstone", then I would ask: Is there anything "American" about american composers writing symphonic forms at all? For that matter, what place does composing anything have in this definition of American music? And where lies the crossing point between planned versus unplanned, crafted versus momentary?

The latter questions pertains operatively to what I do in Celtic music. Frequently people ask me after my gigs how much of what I play is improvised and how much is planned. I'm happy they can't tell! For the record, I hardly improvise at all. Celtic roots tradition celebrates melodies in their original, not reinvented or rewritten, form. By definition, Celtic music is neither improvised nor virtuosic.

I often reflect on the question of finding a place where Celtic music can reside comfortably alongside other more crowd-pleasing, blistering virtuosic forms such as Bluegrass, Newgrass, Classical, Jazz, etc. I'm still searching for an answer.

With regard to improvised forms, I have often posed this question: What is the point of improvising in a recording studio? When a listener hears a CD it is no longer improvised music because CD players don't improvise!


March 27, 2011
Jamie with red hair? Imagine having to appear on stage for two sold-out performances with a totally messed up and completely irreversible hair do! That's what happened this weekend at my performances at the Transylvania Community Arts Council.

I think it a slight miscalculation, by the way, that the geographic planning departments in North Carolina drew up the county lines placing the town of Bat Cave not in neighboring Transylvania County, but unimaginatively in Henderson County.

Anyway, the day before my two solo concerts -- in which I was to put to use the brand new Kurt Widenhouse violin of which I am so fond -- I went for a hair cut. I asked the gal if there was anything she might offer by way of a slight gray cover up. "Oh sure, I've got just the thing: it's a subtle blend with your natural brown...you'll love it." But after all the goo was washed out, I had been transformed into a brilliant carrot top! "Oh, we can fix that."

I spent the next 5 hours with my head alternately covered with various mixtures of goo and in the rinsing sink, the result of which left me with an irreversible head of copper-colored hair. So, for the next few months I will look like a proper Scotsman.

Completing my new look with kilt of Campbell Hunting tartan, I took the stage for what turned out to be two of the sweetest performances in ages. Performing solo without accompaniment is a unique challenge, and the audience warmly demonstrated their appreciation.

Right at the end of the second evening during the closing set of fast reels, a mighty clap of thunder and sheet lightening knocked out the lights a couple of times. It made for a grand and wild finish! Maybe I can order that to happen again next time. Pyrotechnics, anyone?

Special warm thanks to Tammy Hopkins and Peggy Bogardus for making the concerts possible.