My knowledge of stringed instruments is strictly limited to the few guitar lessons I took in fifth grade and listening to the screeches as my sister attempted to learn how to play violin. Why am I at Fiddle'Deis, a weekend dedicated exclusively to the great variety of fiddle music? I had no clue what I was getting myself into, but despite the lengthy four-hour runtime, the Saturday night performance in the Slosberg Recital Hall was an eye-opening experience to the enchanting music of fiddles.

Each of the four performances that took the stage had its own distinctive style, and I was pleasantly surprised by the diversity a seemingly monotonous instrument could create. I had really only heard the classical drone of violins and the Southern drawl of country fiddle music.

The first performance featured visiting performer Meena Kothandaramen on the violin who was accompanied by her brother on a simple, two-sided drum. Kothandaramen explained that much of the Southeast Asian music she played honored the Lord Ganesha and another specific song was a sort of preemptive apology to the Mother Goddess in case the musician made any mistakes. Kothandaramen was more than just a performer-she interacted with the audience and educated them about her musical style, which was especially important because many members were violin players (toting their instruments around). Though completely foreign to me, she taught about the rhythmic cycles that form the base of any song and were embellished with fancier overlays. Overall, her music had a mystical and deeply moving quality that was relaxing and melodic.

After a brief intermission, Lousiana-based duo David Greely and Chris Stafford took the stage to perform energetic, authentic Southern fiddle songs and even featured Stafford playing the accordion in one piece. Recently, I've been listening to country music so this set filled my country fix, though it was more reminiscent of the Charlie Daniels Band's "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" than Toby Keith's or Brad Paisley's latest hit. Compared to Kothandaramen's performance, Greely and Stafford were equally engaging, though much more lively, with Greely telling several anecdotes about his experiences in fiddle music.
I really enjoyed the song they played which, as Greely explained, was about two lovers who can't make things work, despite how much they love each other. Like many of the songs Greely sang along to, it was entirely in French, but this language barrier did not detract from my amusement. The emotionally charged tune conveyed a sense of romanticism laced with tragedy. It was followed by a song titled in English "You'll Never See Me Again" about a man who goes to prison that was part of what Greely described as "family music." It was surprisingly happy and upbeat for a song about being incarcerated. Stafford, who is in his mid 20s, was incredibly talented at both the accordion and fiddle, and the duo played a cover song of an old Creole singer off of Stafford's album.

Up next was the Ben Powell Jazz Quartet, led by violinist Ben Powell who came to Berklee College of Music from his native England after becoming enchanted with jazz music. He was accompanied by Tim Ray on piano, Prof. Bob Nieske (MUS) on bass and Bob Tamagni on drums, all of whom excelled at their respective instrument. The tone of this piece transported me to a swanky jazz club with the soulful crooning of a live band. Powell was incredibly animated when interacting with the other musicians, especially during Ray's piano solos, in which Ray's passion for music exploded out of the keys. The songs were generally violin and piano based, but the last song they performed had a highly deserved drum solo. In a particularly touching moment, the quartet played a song called "Judith" that Powell wrote for his godmother.

In my opinion, the last musician was the most unique. Casey Driessen took fiddle playing to an entirely new level by using several music pedals to overlay different tunes while he played them live, essentially composing a song on the spot. It was incredibly innovative and I enjoyed watching how Driessen went through this process. I especially appreciated how he referred to the pedals as "his band," which was accurate because it allowed him to "play" multiple parts of a song at the same time.
As he began this process for one particular song, I started to recognize the beat. Was that really "Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson or was my obsession clouding my judgment? I was right-Driessen explained that he had first composed this song the summer that Jackson passed away and it was one of the many covers that he had in his repertoire. Besides covers, Driessen performed amazing improvisational songs that were more traditionally upbeat and energetic. It's hard to describe his unique sound, but it is like Greely and Stafford's music with a modern, edgy technique spin-taking the fiddle to a whole new level. One of his most innovative ideas was a song that he built around a recording of his unborn child's heartbeat.

Despite the overwhelming musical diversity that consumed the recital hall, I did leave with one overall theme-the intensity of interactions between the performers in each piece, including Driessen with his mechanical counterparts. There was a passion that flowed between each of them, whether it was Kothandaramen and her brother's rhythmic drumming; the complementary notes of Greely and Stafford's fiddles; or the bonds that tied together Powell's quartet.
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