海角大神

Every June, Vi Wickam听packs his fiddle and drives from his home in Loveland, Colo., to this small Idaho town. 鈥淚 think it鈥檚 my twelfth year,鈥� he says. 鈥淚 came every year when I was in high school. Then I stopped for about ten years.鈥�

Mr. Wickam, a champion fiddler, sits in the cafeteria of Weiser High School, smiling and trading good-natured 鈥渓ittle pokes鈥� with friends he鈥檚 not seen for 51 weeks.听

鈥淲hen I was a kid,鈥� he says, 鈥淚 just came for the contest.鈥�

鈥淭hat鈥檚 because you didn鈥檛 know any better,鈥� quips Vivian Williams, now 80, herself a fiddler and a seven-time contest winner in various divisions.

鈥淵eah,鈥� Wickam admits. 鈥淣ow I come for the jamming, the friends, the camaraderie 鈥� and the four minutes of adrenaline when I鈥檓 competing.听

He鈥檚 one of an estimated 3,000 to 4,000 musical pilgrims that journey each year to this National Oldtime Fiddlers' Contest and Festival, a competition now in its 66^th year. This week, some 165 entrants, ranging in age from 6 to 87, are competing for trophies and cash prizes. The divisions include everything from Small Fry to the Senior Senior Division, where fiddlers 70 and older still garner ovations for their hoedowns.听听

鈥淚鈥檝e been coming here for years, and I鈥檝e never seen a fistfight, never seen an out-of-control drunk, never seen a fight over religious views or political views,鈥� says Gary Eller, director of the Idaho Songs Project. 鈥淵ou put your politics aside for a week. There鈥檚 still a place in the world where people can be civil.鈥�

鈥淭here鈥檚 something truly wonderful here that I鈥檝e never seen at other festivals,鈥� adds Mr. Eller.听

Not that there isn鈥檛 conflict. 鈥淭he contest is just an excuse for all of us to get together,鈥� says Ms. Williams 鈥� 鈥渁nd also something to argue about:听鈥榃hat were those judges thinking?!鈥� People always complain about the judging. It鈥檚 a tradition.鈥澨�

The other discord here, not a minor quibble, is: What constitutes oldtime music?

鈥淥ldtime is not one thing,鈥� insists Williams, an ethnomusicologist. 鈥淚t鈥檚 regional: There鈥檚 Appalachian, Missouri style, Texas style, Canadian, Northern Missourian, Meti艣, and others.鈥�

Most of those fiddle styles never win contests. The credit 鈥� or blame 鈥� falls on Texans.

Williams points to legendary Texas fiddler, Benny Thomasson: 鈥淲hen he was a young man, in the 1920s, he thought he was a pretty hot fiddler, and he went to a contest 鈥� and lost,鈥� she says. 鈥淪o he went back home, tail 鈥榯ween his legs, and figured out what to do to win: Play fancy with more variations.鈥�

She credits other legendary Texans, such as Major Franklin and Eck Robertson, with turning fiddle contests into celebrations of the Texas style.

鈥淚t鈥檚 very impressive, and fiddlers were picking it up because it was so cool, and judges were giving lots of points because it was so cool,鈥� says Williams, who plays traditional dance tunes instead of the Texas style. 鈥淏ut Texas style has come to dominate the contests.鈥�

It also drove a musical wedge between musicians here at Weiser. To understand these aesthetic differences, it helps to understand the geography of the festival.听

The official contests happen in the high-school auditorium. Beside the school is Fiddletown, the wealthier side of Weiser鈥檚 demographic. Just beyond Fiddletown is The Institute, a lush, grassy campground and the former site of a trade school which plays host to music workshops, dances, and other events.

Further out, literally and spiritually, is Stickerville, which came into existence in the 1980s when spillover musicians were exiled to a field infested with Goat Head, a low-creeping weed whose curved thorns found homes in many a mandolin player鈥檚 bare feet. The acreage, mostly free of Goat Head now, is an amalgam of tents, folding chairs, ice chests, Coleman stoves 鈥� and some of the top players of stringed instruments in the US.

Stickerville is also home to the anti-contest, anti-Texas-style musicians. Many of the 300 to 500 campers here never venture to the auditorium.

鈥淚鈥檓 not interested in the contest,鈥� Seattle guitarist Rich Levine says. 鈥淭his here, in Stickerville, is the best music there is.鈥�

Though he admits there鈥檚 great music in the competition, he says 鈥渋t鈥檚 more eclectic over here: old-timey, swing, Qu茅b茅cois, Missouri style.鈥� He points across the Stickerville landscape: 鈥淥ver there, there鈥檚 western swing. And Chuck Holloway 鈥� we call him Chainsaw Chuck 鈥� around midnight he starts texting friends, and they show up and play bluegrass till dawn.鈥�

Claudia Anastasio, a fiddler and guitarist from Church Point, Louisiana, says, 鈥淭here are some really good Appalachian oldtime players down in Stickerville, but there鈥檚 no way they would enter the contest because the judges aren鈥檛 looking for that.

鈥淭hey have their own contests in Stickerville,鈥� Ms. Anastasio says, 鈥渁nd if a Texas-style player goes down there, they鈥檇 lose.鈥�

Monday night jams in Fiddletown

Around 10 o鈥檆lock on Monday night, after the judges had crowned Paul Anastasio swing-fiddle champion, Wickam, Williams, and Mr. Anastasio cluster in the lobby with friends and relatives, laughing and passing around congratulations.听

It鈥檚 still early by Weiser standards, and defending Senior Senior champion Williams is antsy. Like a dog needs to scratch, the Seattle octogenarian needs to jam. So, after a large, pink, huckleberry ice-cream cone, she gets into her friend鈥檚 red Jeep and heads out in search of music.

The most tempting tunes call her toward Fiddletown, so, lugging her black fiddle case, she trundles down a steep path, crosses a dry irrigation ditch, and follows her ears past half a dozen massive RVs.听

Old-timey music draws her to the camp of Rod Anderson, who will be one of her accompanists when she defends her Senior Senior title later that week. Situated between two RVs, six musicians sit jamming in a circle, while a few feet away sit five others gabbing, drinking homemade beer, and nibbling on gigantic apple fritters.

When the musicians recognize Williams, they insist she join the jam, and she pulls her fiddle from its case and finds a seat. These tunes are in her wheelhouse.

鈥淵ou鈥檒l never meet more happy people than here,鈥� says Mary Cooper, a Spokane, Wash., fiddler. 鈥淚 think it鈥檚 the music. It doesn鈥檛 matter if you鈥檙e good or bad. It鈥檚 so non-judgmental here.鈥澨�

Jeff Lincoln,听a guitarist who lives near Boise, Idaho, nods and says, 鈥淎 friend of mine said, 鈥榃eiser鈥檚 like a family reunion 鈥� if all of your relatives are smart and funny.鈥� 鈥�

鈥淪o many of us have been coming here for so many years,鈥� Mr. Anderson adds. 鈥淵ou come, you play guitar for these kids, and the next thing you know, you're playing guitar for their kids.鈥�

An hour later, Wickam wanders in with fresh energy and more repertoire, so the jam heads in a new musical direction. No one thinks of sleep, only what to play next.

鈥淲hat else do we almost know?鈥� Williams asks, and the tunes keep coming: 鈥淐hief Sitting Bull,鈥� 鈥淩ed Wing,鈥� 鈥淪ilver and Gold,鈥� 鈥淧resident Garfield,鈥� Sweet Georgia Brown,鈥� 鈥淧eter Barnes Jig.鈥澨�

Jamming continues past midnight, 1 o鈥檆lock.

At 1:50 a.m. the bass player calls it a day and the musicians pack up. 鈥淭hat was just what I needed,鈥� Williams announces.听

The future of Weiser

This year鈥檚 roughly 165 contestants signal a disturbing trend: down 15 from last year. Overall contest entries are down from 289 in 2010 to 180 in 2017. Some wonder if Weiser is on the slow slide toward extinction.

鈥淗opefully, it can continue to exist,鈥� says Bruce Campbell, general chairman of the event since 1980.听

Both Wickam and Williams believe the two sides 鈥� the contest aficionados and the Stickerville musicians 鈥� can help save the festival for each other.

鈥淭here really are two worlds here: the jamming world and the contest world,鈥� Wickam says. 鈥淭he jamming world would not exist without the contest world. And if it wasn鈥檛 for the contest, you wouldn鈥檛 have this extreme collection of music and musicians coming here.鈥�

Recently, contest organizers started inviting winners of a nearby banjo competition to help kick off the festival by performing in the auditorium. Williams says she sees this as the start of a rapprochement.

鈥淎nything that builds a bridge between those 鈥榥asty old hippies鈥� and those 鈥榥asty old contest people鈥� is great,鈥� she says, chuckling.

Both Williams and Wickam see how much everyone has to lose: 鈥淚t鈥檚 family,鈥� Wickam says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 the musical family that I see once a year, and it feels like I never left.听

鈥淭here鈥檚 a musical bond,鈥� he goes on. 鈥淲hen you play music with somebody, you have to have a spirit of listening. And听that听is conversation. That musical conversation creates a level of connection that would take years to create with just words.鈥澨�