Sallie Gooden

Eck Robertson’s 1922 Victor recording of the traditional fiddle tune Sallie Gooden is among the first professional country music records ever made. The recording features a whopping 13 variations of the tune, and it was very influential in the early development of Texas-style fiddling. Here in Book V, I present Sallie Gooden with what has become its standard sequence of variations in the contest circuit. The notes and bowings remain fairly close to Robertson’s recording though, as do the playing style, tempo, and feel.

Eck Robertson's original recordings

Robertson was born in Texas in 1887, and he became a professional entertainer in his early 20s. In 1922, he began performing frequently at Confederate soldier reunions throughout the South, and at one of these events, he struck up a friendship with a Civil War veteran and fellow fiddler, Henry C. Gilliland. In summer 1922, the two traveled to New York City in hopes of securing an audition at the Victor Talking Machine Company – and they achieved just that. Arriving in New York in wide-brimmed black hats, leather cuffs, and pants tucked into high-topped boots, they met up with a lawyer and old friend of Gilliland’s named Martin W. Littleton, who set up a meeting for them at Victor. The two fiddlers impressed one of the label executives, who invited them to return the following morning to make a “test record.”

The first two tracks they recorded were Arkansas Traveler (featured in my Book II) and Turkey in the Straw. Over the next couple days, Robertson also recorded several fiddle tunes both solo (including Sallie Gooden) and with piano accompaniment. All of these recordings were released by Victor over the next couple years, and they found some success, in particular after a surge of interest in old-time country music in mid-1923.

Robertson continued performing until WWII, during which his son was killed in combat. The loss of his son, combined with new trends in music that he thought rendered his brand of entertaining a bit old-fashioned, prompted him to quit performing and become a piano tuner at the Tolzien Music Company in Amarillo, TX. Occasionally, he was a featured guest at fiddle contests, but he didn’t regain serious recognition until 1963, when old-time musicians and folklorists Mike Seeger, John Cohen, and Tracy Schwarz visited his home, recorded him playing a number of fiddle tunes, and released these recordings on an album called Eck Robertson, Famous Cowboy Fiddler. The release of this album yielded appearances at the UCLA Folk Festival in 1964 and on the main stage at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965 and cemented his legacy as one of the great old-time fiddlers in American history. He passed away in Texas in 1975.

Three generations of teachers and students playing Sallie Gooden

Robertson was a longtime friend of Texan fiddler Luke Thomasson, the father of my teacher, Benny. Though known primarily as a showman (reportedly, he could toss his bow or fiddle in the air, catch it, and resume playing a tune without dropping a note!), Robertson’s influence on the development of fiddling is significant and unmistakable. I am fortunate to have been able to meet “Uncle Eck” in 1974 at a fiddle contest in a town called Truth or Consequences, New Mexico.

The rendition of Sallie Gooden presented here is demanding. It requires the extended use of double-stops, frequent trips to the 2nd position with maneuvers that involve forward extensions on the 4th finger and backward extensions on the 1st finger. I suggest learning to play this using the cross-tuning employed by Robertson in his recording and my companion recording to the book (low to high: AEAE), because the resonance created by the cross-tuning is powerful and sheds new light on the fiddle’s tonal and textural possibilities. However, because many fiddle contests prohibit cross-tuning, most fiddlers have adapted the tune to standard tuning. Sallie Gooden can be played either way.

Appalachia Waltz

Trail of Tears released on O'Connor's 1998 album

In the summer of 1993, I went on a two-week retreat in the New Mexican desert in hopes of finding inspiration for a violin concerto slow movement I was composing called Trail of Tears. The name refers to the effect of the Indian Removal Act of 1830, a measure passed under President Andrew Jackson that forcibly relocated tens of thousands of Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, and other Native Americans from their lands east of the Mississippi to present-day Oklahoma. I was hoping to experience and identify with some of the Native American culture in New Mexico, since there wasn’t much of it left in my adopted state of Tennessee. I envisioned the soundscape of Trail of Tears as a slow drum march, and one of my main goals during my retreat was to develop a few melodic themes that reflected the tragedy of the hardship to which the title refers.

The album that launched Appalachia Waltz

But one day, a breeze of American optimism blew through an open window in my cabin, and in no time at all, and with seemingly no effort, I had composed three parts to a new nostalgic but powerful piece. I could not place it in Trail of Tears, so I wrote it down, recorded it on cassette tape, filed it away, and went on searching for more appropriate melodies for the concerto.

Two years later, the great cellist Yo-Yo Ma was sitting in my living room in Nashville, Tennessee. He and I, along with Edgar Meyer, were auditioning repertoire for anything we could perform together, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to show him the piece I’d composed in the desert a couple years before. When I presented it to him, he embraced it wholeheartedly and insisted we create an album around it.

Thus, Appalachia Waltz was born.

As an artist, you can never be sure which of your creations will end up resonating with people. Largely thanks to Yo-Yo, Appalachia Waltz has become a mainstay of American classical string music and a beacon to musicians and composers around the world working to blend styles and bridge the gap between the antiquated domains of “art” and “folk” music. Yo-Yo has performed the composition on solo cello perhaps a thousand times – as an encore after performances of Bach and Dvořák, at dinners for heads of state and royal families, at memorial services (the most recent being the memorial service for Steve Jobs), and in many other settings. It was the first piece of music performed in a New York City concert hall after the attacks of September 11, 2001. In exposing literally millions of listeners around the world to Appalachia Waltz, Yo-Yo has bestowed upon it what one might call diplomatic importance.

I have also performed Appalachia Waltz thousands of times over the last 20 years, and because of its popularity, I have arranged it for many different combinations of instruments. There is a beginning version of it for solo violin in Book I and the complete violin solo and duet version in this Book V. I have also arranged it for violin/guitar duet, string trio, piano trio, and string orchestra. In 2006, I even composed an entire symphony (called Americana Symphony) based on the theme! Appalachia Waltz is direct and memorable enough to work in any number of settings, and each setting offers a new, fresh perspective on the melody and construction.

I have often been asked why Appalachia Waltz – or any of my music, for that matter – sounds American. It is a good question and a difficult one to answer, which is why I have spent much time thinking about it. To me, my music, and American music in general, implicates a sense of journey. The history of this country is characterized by movement, travel, and change to a greater extent than the history of any other country in the world. From the migration of the first true Americans across the Beringian land bridge tens of thousands of years ago, to the first European expeditions around the continent sponsored by competing kingdoms in the 15th and 16th centuries, to the influx of European settlers and African slaves in the 17th and 18th centuries, to the westward migration and Manifest Destiny of the 19th century, our country has always been on the move. Generally speaking, we have been willing to uproot our lives in search of better opportunities and greater freedoms.

Mark and his wife Maggie O'Connor recorded the violin duo version 

American music is thus a well-traveled body of music, and its influences are diverse and wide-ranging. Country, gospel, bluegrass, Canadian fiddling, jazz, Habanero, Cajun, Zydeco, old-time, and numerous other styles are themselves blends of sounds and songs from the various peoples, cultures, and communities that have made America their home.

To me, Appalachia Waltz is a modern-day spiritual. It conveys both optimism and longing, a belief in the future and a closeness for old homes, old friends, and past journeys. Ironically, folk musicians who hear it for the first time believe it to be a “classical” piece, and classical musicians call it “folk” music. Indeed, the piece exists in a liminal zone. It creates a bridge of trust between audience and performer as it lies at the intersection of many styles, emotions, and journeys.

Vistas

Mark O'Connor: Pacific Ocean near San Diego, California

For years, I lived in a part of rural California teeming with avocado groves, citrus trees, and strawberry fields. My house was positioned at the top of a hill, and the view from my balcony was sweeping and inspiring. As I sat outside on my balcony one day, I noticed three distinct views (“vistas”): the desert in the East, the distant mountains in the North, and the beautiful, sparkling Pacific Ocean in the West. I imagined that each of these magnificent vistas represented distinct things – musical personalities, instruments, voices, social backgrounds, ways of life. But as my eyes relaxed and my primary vision began to blend with my peripheral, the three vistas merged into one cohesive panoramic view. All of a sudden, what seemed to be contrasting environments combined to form one unified landscape.

At the time, it struck me how relevant this “blending of the vistas” was to art itself. All artists, including musicians, come from different backgrounds, receive different training, and have unique gifts and personalities. We are all at different points in our artistic journeys. But ultimately, we all strive to elevate the spirit (mountains), stimulate the intellect (ocean), and strengthen the heart (desert). To me, Vistas is a musical reflection of this powerful bond between artists around the world.

Mark O'Connor: Desert Southwest

Vistas is a piece of American Classical music. Two different themes (the first in G Major, the second in B Minor) undergo considerable development, making the tune somewhat longer than many of the others in Book V. While the first theme is a clear melodic statement that experiences a variety of harmonic transpositions, the second theme is more of a textural exploration, and it features thumb strumming, muting, octave displacement, and temporal variation. Practicing Vistas is a great exercise in exploring many disparate yet unified sounds, techniques, and expressions within a single piece of music.

Both Sides Now

Joni Mitchell

Both Sides, Now was written by renowned singer-songwriter Joni Mitchell in 1967. Folk singer Judy Collins recorded it that year for her album Wildflowers, and the single broke into the Top 10 on the U.S. Pop charts in 1968. Mitchell recorded it for her own album, Clouds, a year later.

Discussing the inspiration for the song, Mitchell says, “I was reading Saul Bellow’s Henderson the Rain King on a plane and early in the book Henderson the Rain King is also up in a plane. He’s on his way to Africa and he looks down and sees these clouds. I put down the book, looked out the window and saw clouds too, and I immediately started writing the song.”

Mitchell, with the help of her sophisticated yet accessible

Judy Collins Wildflowers

masterpiece, inspired a new generation of singer-songwriters in the late 1960s and early ‘70s. I fell in love with the song the first time I heard it at age 8, when Mitchell performed it as a guest on Johnny Cash’s national television show in 1969. (In fact, Cajun fiddler Doug Kershaw appeared on the same episode, and it was his performance that inspired me to play the fiddle in the first place.) I recorded an instrumental version of the song on my album Elysian Forest in 1987. The version in this book draws inspiration from both Collins’ and Mitchell’s recordings.

Both Sides, Now

Rows and flows of angel hai

 And ice cream castles in the air

And feather canyons everywhere

I've looked at clouds that way

Joni Mitchell, singer-songwriter

But now they only block the sun

They rain and snow on everyone

So many things I would have done

But clouds got in my way

I've looked at clouds from both sides now

From up and down, and still somehow

It's cloud illusions I recall

I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels

The dizzy dancing way you feel

As every fairy tale comes real

I've looked at love that way

But now it's just another show

You leave 'em laughing when you go

And if you care, don't let them know

Don't give yourself away

I've looked at love from both sides now

From give and take, and still somehow

It's love's illusions I recall

I really don't know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud

To say "I love you" right out loud

Dreams and schemes and circus crowds

I've looked at life that way

But now old friends are acting strange

They shake their heads, they say I've changed

Well something's lost, but something's gained

In living every day I've looked at life from both sides now

From win and lose and still somehow

It's life's illusions I recall I really don't know life at all

I've looked at life from both sides now

From up and down and still somehow

It's life's illusions I recall

I really don't know life at all

© 1967 Gandalf Publishing Co.

Fiddlin' Around

Johnny Gimble in Nashville, 1975

Fiddlin’ Around is a Western Swing (or Texas Swing) tune written by one of the greatest purveyors of the style, Johnny Gimble. Western Swing was developed in the 1920s as an amalgamation of old-time fiddling, ragtime, jazz, and Ranchero music, and Fiddlin’ Around is one of the classics in the repertoire.

Johnny Gimble was born on May 30, 1926 in Tyler, Texas. He started playing the fiddle at age 10, and he was influenced by fiddlers Cliff Bruner and Cecil Brower as well as the music of Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys. He also studied the playing of Danish jazz violinist Svend Asmussen, who frequently performed and recorded with jazz legend Benny Goodman. It did not take long for Johnny to master the fiddle, and he joined the Texas Playboys in 1949 at the ripe age of 23.

Johnny wrote Fiddlin’ Around in 1961. As the story goes, he was driving his ’61 Rambler Classic from Waco, Texas to Springfield, Missouri one day to perform at the Ozark Jubilee, when a melodic idea popped into his head. He started steering the car with his knee so he could flesh out the idea on his fiddle right then and there, and Fiddlin’ Around was born. It was first released 12 years later as the title cut on an album he recorded for Capitol in 1973, and it was later featured on Chet Atkins’ album Superpickers (1974) as well as on the soundtrack for the movie Honeysuckle Rose (1980). Johnny was the most in-demand session fiddler in Nashville in the 1960s, and ‘70s, and Fiddlin’ Around remains his most popular compositional contribution to fiddle music.

Heroes featured Gimble and O'Connor duo

Double-stops and swing rhythm are perhaps the two most notable characteristics of Fiddlin’ Around. It is a challenging tune to play, especially when executing the double-stop passages featuring augmented tonalities and fourth-finger extensions. Perhaps the most difficult aspect of the tune to master, however, is the simultaneous playing and “scat” singing. Musical motifs and arpeggio fragments are “scatted,” or sung, using a variety of improvised syllables and vowel sounds. Scat singing is a musical device most commonly employed in jazz, and Johnny used it often, including on the recording of Fiddlin’ Around he and I made together on my album, Heroes (1994). The solos, scatting, and overall interplay between the two instruments from that particular recording heavily influenced the version of the tune in this book.