Let Your Fingers Dance on the Strings

Hi.

I'm Jenn.

And I'm a bass player.

I'm also: 

a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a dog mom, a woman of 'a certain age', a landscape architect, a dreamer, a painter, a bohemian, a rule follower, an adventurer, a homebody, a geek, a reader,  a shy person and a show off.  

I've succeeded in some things, and failed in others. 
I've been lost, and I'm learning how to find my way.

I've been called quiet, and now I'm finding my Voice.

Some days I have a rock and roll heart. 

And some days I can't even begin to find the Groove.

But every now and then, the Groove finds me - if I'm open to it, and  I give it a chance.

One recent experience seems like a great jumping off point for the blog. 

It sorta started when my boyfriend-at-the-time would go on about this amazing bass player named Victor Wooten.  I'd heard Victor's name, and I'd even seen him perform a few years back when he came through town with Bela Fleck and the Flecktones, but I wasn't overly familiar with him. 

While still in the blissful stages of love, I sought out more information about some of my boyfriend's favorite things, including his musical inspirations.  I discovered that Victor Wooten held camps for bass players every summer, and that the camps also included courses in nature and outdoor skills.

Interesting.

Fast forward a bit. 

In the fall, after a frustrating year or so of guitar lessons, I switched to the electric bass - on a bit of a whim.  In January, the then-boyfriend had a...change of heart, and I became a solo act, so to speak.

Music lessons, and goofing around with my bass was both a solace for my broken heart,  and a much needed challenge.  And when I paid attention, pursuing that musical challenge kept leading me into new, positive and fascinating directions. 

So I kept listening...to my intuition, and to the new friends I was making through my bass.

And everyone kept saying the same thing.

"Go to Victor's camp.  It'll change your life."

So, in the middle of May, I found myself on the road to a little town on the far side of Nashville.

Middle aged, female, with a paltry six months or so of bass lessons, but an ocean full of enthusiasm, I wasn't the first image you'd conjure when thinking about a bass player. 

 And I was heading off to study with some of the best bass players in the world!  

It didn't take much time to discover that I was one of the very least experienced of the 60 or so campers.  So on the first full day of camp, during one of our class sessions, Victor Wooten asked if he could work with me that evening to demonstrate a technique geared towards beginners, at our meal time assembly.  I shakily agreed; adventure and new experiences were the whole point of going to camp, right?

When the time came,  I went up on stage with my big orange bass.  

Eric Struthers was filling in on guitar, and Victor's 11 year old son Adam, a professional musician in his own right, sat in on drums.  Anthony Wellington, another well -respected bass player was on the keyboard.  Several of our other camp instructors made up a horn section. Victor was acting as host and master of ceremonies.  A roomful of semi-strangers were looking up at me.  

It seemed completely surreal.

Victor told me to ignore the audience for the moment.

He pointed to one fret on one string, and told me to put together a simple rhythm with just one note, and to keep repeating the same pattern. Hands shaking with nerves, I plunked away.  And slowly, I settled into it, and started to relax by degrees.

  

Adam came in on the drums.  

Eric came in on the guitar. Anthony was doing his thing on the keys, and grinning at all of us.

I figured out how to watch Adam's foot for the bass drum beat, and we got a little tighter.   The horns started doing some sassy fills. 

It's a little hazy now, but at some point Victor and his daughters started to scat some lyrics on the fly.

Sometime in middle, I began to smile, and sway to the music.

  

 

When it was obvious that I was having fun with the simple rhythm, Victor coached me to "play around with it a little bit", and "let your fingers dance on the strings".

So I did.

And we sounded...good. 

And funky.  

And it was a complete blast.

Victor's point - I think - with that exercise, is that you don't have to lock yourself away until you're a great  musician to play music.  One of the big themes throughout the camp experience is that Music is a language and a conversation, and, just like a child learning to talk, you get better by practicing it with  other people, by jamming, and cutting loose. 

I'd add, in the bigger picture of Life, don't worry so much about being an expert.

When you have  folks you can trust watching your back, you can be free to experiment a little.

Find the groove, get in the pocket.

Let your fingers dance on the strings.

Amazing things just might happen when you take a chance.