Saw this article in The New York Times on fiddle contests and thought it was
interesting.



The New York Times
Published: May 5, 2006



Fiddling Contests: Battles With Bows and Strings



By AUSTIN CONSIDINE

ANYONE who's been in a rowdy honky tonk when "The Devil Went Down to
Georgia" hit the jukebox knows how much fun dueling fiddlers can be. The
song, by the Charlie Daniels Band, consistently elicits whoops and hollers
from a well-lubricated barroom.

In real-life fiddle contests, the devil doesn't compete and no one wagers
his soul, as "Johnny" does in the song. But there's still the fun of
watching and hearing accomplished fiddlers battle it out with their bows.
The coming season is prime time for fiddler competitions, with many
clustered in May and June. Dozens are listed on the Web site
www.fiddlecontest.com.

The oldest fiddlers' contest in the country takes place in Union Grove in
western North Carolina, at the Ole Time Fiddler's and Bluegrass Festival,
held every year in the spring for the past 82 years. An estimated 50 to 60
fiddlers ­ from children to fiddling veterans in their 70's ­ duel it out
with old-time music, bluegrass standards and heritage tunes (defined as more
than 100 years old) for the title of Fiddler of the Festival. In a pattern
typical in Appalachia, many of the older entrants have had no formal lessons
and picked up their skill by imitation and in jam sessions.

"I watch these old time guys play and I have a real appreciation for what
they do," said Jessie Cockman, one of the festival organizers, "because I
know that they've not been trained. And the tunes that they pick and the way
these 70-year-old guys can stay up until 3, 4 o'clock in the morning ­
that's just unreal."

The festival attracts around 3,000 people, Ms. Cockman said, and although
the music carries on at all hours, the fiddling is serious. Alcohol is
banned ­ an unusual restriction for this kind of festival but in line with
the intention of the founders, who wanted a family atmosphere rather than a
gathering of musicians "going out with their buddies to jam," Ms. Cockman
said.

Although not as old, the Grand Lake National Fiddle Fest in Grove, Okla., in
early June, part of the American Heritage Music Festival, also carries
fiddling prestige. Started in 1998 by the fiddler Jana Jae, who has played
with Chet Atkins, Roy Clark and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, the contest
draws around 3,000 people a day to witness roughly 100 fiddlers competing
for the grand prize of $1,000. Top-billed performers who have also taken the
time to jam informally include Ricky Skaggs, Rhonda Vincent and the late
Randy Howard.

Ms. Jae said she had joined, won and judged fiddle contests for many years
before finally deciding to start her own, continuing an amateur American
tradition that has its roots in centuries-old dance music from around the
world. "They used to entertain themselves with jam sessions and playing out
in Appalachia, you know, on the back porches," she said. "It was O.K.
wherever you put your fingers and however you put your bow, as long as you
had that rhythm."

But the premier contest, also in June, is the National Oldtime Fiddlers'
Contest in Weiser (pronounced "Weezer"), Idaho, which draws up to 25,000
people and around 350 competitors seeking prizes of up to $1,400. Weiser, a
town of about 5,300 people, is also home to the National Oldtime Fiddlers'
Association and the National Fiddlers' Hall of Fame. Famous fiddlers like
Mark O'Connor and Dale Morris Jr., have taken their careers to the national
level by winning its contest.

Fiddling competitions aren't limited to the South and West. The 2,000 to
3,000 fans who arrive each June at the New England Fiddle Contest in
Hartford, Conn., are likely to hear music mingling traditions including
Celtic, Cajun and French-Canadian as well as the more familiar sounds of
Appalachia. About 100 amateur fiddlers play, said Jim Condren, a volunteer
with Peace Train Foundation, the contest organizer. They compete for prizes
of up to $500, and the scene is one of fun, dancing and a healthy dose of
abandon.

"The music is kind of like acoustic punk rock," Mr. Condren said. "It's not
about virtuosity. It's about making your own music and about community."