Plays Well with Others

Every summer for about the past ten years I’ve been teaching Irish music at Lark Camp, an international music festival that takes place far back in the redwood forest near Mendocino, California. The Mendocino woodlands facility looks much the same as when it was built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps. The real heart of Lark camp is not performance or even the classes that fill the daytime hours—it’s social music making, especially the Irish session, since Irish musicians outnumber all others.

When I started attending Lark as a camper, at least 20 years ago, the sessions rocked along most nights until nearly dawn. The best sessions had a white-hot core of players who leaned in together, sparked off each other, and created enough momentum to carry along a roomful of less experienced players. Crowded in rings around the engine room, the less experienced musicians were both participants and a sort of appreciative audience who contributed to the energy.

It’s not very egalitarian, but that format actually works to generate the most fun for all—the energy is there, and more people can sit closer to the excitement than in a big, American-style circle. As time passed, I and others earned our way from the outer ranks to take turns in the center. Of course, it’s always a guilty pleasure to sneak off around a corner or into a little room for a small, nimble session with a group of excellent players. But there is a time and a place for both, and people tend to know when to have which kind of session. This sense of knowing is transmitted right along with the repertoire. Or it has been, historically.

In recent years, as the new crop of exceptional players step into their leadership roles and new beginners and intermediates move up the ranks, the big sessions have changed, and not for the better. I think it’s partly due to a loss of that understanding of what makes things work—how to be a leader, and how to fit in until you are one.

A session is not the same as a performance. What makes a session exciting is a sense of togetherness. Tempos can be high, depending on the overall ability of the crowd, but the lightning speed found in today’s virtuoso recordings just leaves too many on the wayside. A variety of tempos throughout the evening—some blazing, some groovy, some dreamy, some just rocking along—lets the mood shift and allows more space to come up with variations. Save the blistering tempos for performance or the most exclusive sessions.

Likewise, if you’re not up to the level of play, whatever that is, resist the temptation to bring the session down to your ability level by starting a lot of tunes within your grasp. If you notice that the players you really admire aren’t quite meeting your eye, that might be the reason why. This seems to happen more and more and it’s counterproductive. The exciting players will retreat to the smallest room they can find and stay there. You’ll improve faster if you let the level of the session stay high and keep reaching for it. Organize a slow session for another time.

Repertoire is important. Every musical community has a common repertoire and there’s a reason those tunes have remained popular for generations—they’re good. There’s always an unspoken challenge—show off your insider status by starting the most exclusive new tunes. But a string of these will kill a session. Occasional solos are welcome throughout the night, but you’ll be better remembered for the one sparkling gem, especially if you slide gracefully into an old favorite that everyone can join, giving the whole room a lift. That’s a thrill you can’t have any other way, and you’ll be known for your obscure tunes and gracious ways.

So, the success of a large session depends more on social awareness than technical skill. If you’re a leader, remember to find the balance between keeping the engine room rocking along and completely disregarding the outer ranks, between staying in the groove and letting tempos drag or race out of hand, between splashy tunes and the old favorites. If you’re a beginner or intermediate, remember that everyone in that center seat where you want to be was once a beginner, too, and use it as inspiration to do the work it takes to get there.

And if there are singers in the room, don’t forget to ask them for the occasional song.