The Slow Revival of Bluegrass

Groups Young and Less Young Carry On the Sound Where It Once Thrived

Groups young and less young carry on the sound where it once thrived.

Every Tuesday night, while a nurse's aide distributes medicine in little plastic cups to senior citizens, a dozen bluegrass pickers tune their instruments and prepare to face down a less-than-intimidating audience at the Morningside assisted living facility in Leesburg.

There's Irene Dunmire, who bounces in her chair and blows kisses after each song. Sylvia Phillips, who gets her hair and nails done before every show and sits up close to the handsome guitar player. And Lawrence Hough, who drives 36 miles from Winchester each week so he can nod along to the sounds of a childhood spent in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

The jam by the Loudoun Bluegrass Association, going into its ninth year, gives the sometimes novice musicians a chance to practice their craft and offers many in the audience a couple of hours to travel back to the days when they tuned in to hear Bill Monroe, the father of bluegrass music, at the Grand Ole Opry.

The Washington area was dubbed by many musicians as the nation's capital of bluegrass after World War II, when migrants from Appalachia came looking for jobs and brought their banjos and mandolins. In the 1950s, for a few quarters you could hear the great mandolin player Buzz Busby at the local honky-tonk in the District. And in the 1970s, the Birchmere in Alexandria had live bluegrass acts sometimes nightly, often headlining such local legends as the Country Gentlemen or the Seldom Scene.

But the music's popularity has ebbed over the years, and a worried refrain has grown among its loyal fans that the next generation would not learn the old-time tunes -- that the area's tradition of bluegrass would fade with the people who lived through it.

For that reason, in addition to their usual Tuesday-night gig, the Morningside musicians take their instruments into Loudoun County public schools each year, offering an introduction to life before the electric guitar and varying acoustic sounds of bluegrass instruments.

"We are, like, on an evangelistic mission to carry on this tradition," said Joy Dix, a Sterling resident who plays the upright bass in the nursing home jam. "We just don't want it to die."

Despite the recurring concerns, the end of bluegrass does not appear to be in sight. A Web site sponsored by the DC Bluegrass Union, http://www.dcbu.org , lists nearly 80 local bands, dozens of venues that feature live music and a different jam for every night of the week.

Players gathered in a music shop in Frederick, a living room in Washington and a general store in Herndon are whipping up a racket and carrying out the tradition of passing the music from friend to friend and neighbor to neighbor.

The bluegrass-infused soundtrack for the 2000 hit movie "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" and the popularity of bands such as Nickel Creek, with its jazzier sound, have helped bring in fans, some in their teens and twenties.

A monthly jam in Round Hill has a reputation for drawing 80-year-old bass players as well as 8-year-old girls picking banjos half their size. And a twice-monthly Arlington gathering offers a slow jam that's popular with beginners of all ages.

"When I first started playing 15 years ago, I was the only one my age," said Lisa Kay Howard, 31, a mandolin player for the band Flyin' Blind. She said she is happy to see that her successors have more company.