The happy reunion of Mark O'Connor and his old Martin resulted in a sequel to his foundational 1978 acoustic guitar album, Markology. Back then, he was already a star violinist and a mandolin player of note. Photo by Maggie O'Connor
By that time, O'Connor had taken violin playing to groundbreaking new places. He'd released a string of solo records on major labels, including 1991's The New Nashville Cats, which took stock of the contemporary Nashville session scene by featuring more than 50 collaborators. His new trio with Yo-Yo Ma and Edgar Meyer had released their much-lauded debut record, Appalachia Waltz, in 1996, and he'd recently composed and recorded a violin concerto, a string quartet, and a soundtrack for the PBS series Liberty!,which featured Yo-Yo Ma, James Taylor, and Wynton Marsalis.
"It became too much about technique and not as much about what drew me to the guitar in the first place, which was its beautiful sound."
As far as career ambitions go, O'Connor's violin playing overshadowed his guitar playing, but his early accomplishments on 6-strings were also extraordinary. O'Connor started early, studying classical guitar starting at age 6 and soon moving into flamenco. He took on classical violin as a way to perform more recitals, and it was his interest in violin that helped him discover bluegrass. He explains, "I heard the fiddle on the Johnny Cash show, and it was the fiddle and fiddling I got into that led me into bluegrass guitar. I would've never known that existed in my surroundings in Seattle, if it weren't for the fiddle."
Once O'Connor fell in love with bluegrass, things started happening quickly. By age 11, he'd stopped playing classical and flamenco guitar and focused solely on flatpicking. "When I got into bluegrass and started with a flat pick, for me, that was rock 'n' roll rebellion. I was going down this path and there was no return," he says. And he soon began winning bluegrass guitar competitions, including the National Guitar Flat-Picking Championships.
Surrounded by his inspirations Tony Rice (center) and Dan Crary (left), O'Conner cuts "Fluid Drive" for the first Markology album, in 1978. Flatpicking doesn't get any finer.
At 13, O'Connor met Tony Rice, and by the time he'd turned 15, the elder guitarist had taken him under wing. When O'Connor recorded his landmark album, Markology, in 1978, Rice played alongside the 16-year-old and helped him mix it as well. Markology was a remarkable feat that found the young prodigy holding his own amongst elders like Rice, David Grisman, and Sam Bush. It was the first recorded evidence that he'd aligned himself with the jazz-inspired ways of his collaborators and was creating his own original and imaginative voice in bluegrass, setting the world on fire with his 1945 Herringbone Martin D-28. Two years later, at only 18, he stepped into his mentor's shoes, replacing Rice in the David Grisman Quintet for their Quintet '80 album.
O'Connor's guitar and fiddle playing co-existed on equal footing for quite a while. "Throughout my childhood, it was neck and neck," he says. "The distinctions could include that there were more big fiddle contests than big guitar contests, so I found myself going to three times as many major fiddle championships. That would automatically suggest that I'm spending more time on that instrument." When he joined the Dregs, playing violin on 1982's Industry Standard, Steve Morse insisted that O'Connor play both instruments in concert, though he began to notice how hard it was becoming to maintain his technique on both, and notes, "It was just so hard to keep up everything, especially with the kind of touring that we were doing, it was just nonstop."
Mark O'Connor's Gear
On Mondays this year, Mark O'Connor and Maggie, his wife, have been livestreaming concerts from their home. She is part of the Mark O'Connor Band, which includes his son Forrest and daughter-in-law Kate Lee.
Strings & Picks
- BlueChip CT55
- D'Addario EJ18 Phosphor Bronze (.014–.059)
It wasn't long before Chet Atkins encouraged him to move to Nashville at the age of 22, imagining he'd find a career as a session guitarist, that O'Connor committed to the violin as his principal instrument. He explains, "I found myself on a Glen Campbell album playing guitar, mostly, and doing an occasional fiddle solo. Something just clicked in my mind where I thought, 'There's so many guitar players in Nashville and there's hardly any fiddle going on.' That was 1983, '84. I just took it upon myself to be the person that brought back fiddling into country music, and I became known as the top fiddler."
He quickly began playing top-tier sessions as well as making a string of major label records under his own name, and his guitar playing took on a more background role. By the time he suffered his injury in 1997, he admits, "I was kind of a little bit burnt out about it. Maybe that's what led to my injuries. Sometimes when you're not completely focused on what you're doing, that's the time that you get injured. I was going through the motions a little bit and maybe over-practicing, trying to overachieve, pushing myself maybe for the wrong reasons. It became too much about technique and not as much about what drew me to the guitar in the first place, which was its beautiful sound."
"Music is a gift, I think, to us all."
Setting aside his guitar and mandolin, O'Connor found that he could continue playing violin, and for the next two decades fiddling took over his musical life completely. He didn't touch a guitar. "I never thought I would play guitar again, and I had grown accustomed to that fact. I had other bouts of bursitis in both my hip and my knee since then, so I knew I was prone to it. I just never wanted to take the chance," he says.
In 2017—20 years after his injury—he was busy focusing on his Mark O'Connor Band, with his wife Maggie on violin and vocals, his son Forrest on mandolin, guitar, and vocals, and his daughter-in-law Kate Lee on violin and vocals. While reminiscing about his multi-instrumentalist past, his family encouraged him to give the guitar another try. "I was wondering how I could add some variety to the instrumentation for our group," O'Connor says. "My family was encouraging me to try the guitars out, maybe play some easy-going strums on one of our songs, and, carefully, I started to try out some guitar stuff."
In his early years as a bluegrass fiddle trailblazer, O'Connor, at left, performs at a festival with (left to right) Eddie Adcock on banjo, Peter Rowan on guitar, and Jerry Douglas on dobro.
Photo by Jordi Vidal
As he began testing his limits, O'Connor realized that he could do a lot more than strum some chords, and one thing soon led to another. "It was not too long before I began to take a lead line on one of the easy songs on stage," he says. "That led to my taking my old Herringbone off the wall back home and experimenting. Over two or three months, I started building up calluses, and as soon as I got my calluses, then my right hand seemed to start to coordinate a lot better. The strumming came back pretty quickly. It was just coordinating mainly crosspicking and lead stuff. And when that started coming back, the whole thing just opened up and I was inspired."
It's hard to imagine the thrill of revisiting the guitar after such a long hiatus. O'Connor describes the feeling: "It felt like a gift. All of a sudden it just felt like it was meant to be—that it was my time to play the guitar again. Music is a gift, I think, to us all. I thought about Tony right away. His sound was in my mind the whole time, and his tone, the way he projected on the guitar, the way he held the guitar and the physicality of it."
"The strumming came back pretty quickly. It was just coordinating mainly crosspicking and lead stuff. And when that started coming back, the whole thing just opened up and I was inspired."
O'Connor decided to document his progress on the guitar, creating arrangements of tunes and recording them once they were ready. "It dawned on me that I had been storing up guitar ideas this whole time, and maybe they were held in my subconscious all along, never having an outlet for them, and then they were kind of spilling out onto the guitar."
Those recordings slowly coalesced into Markology II, a title that suggests not only a sequel to his debut album, but also a renewal or rebirth of his relationship with the instrument. Much like on his debut, Markology II once again shows that O'Connor possesses one of the most unique and versatile voices in modern acoustic guitar playing. Like his fiddle playing, his approach to the guitar now transcends the more bluegrass-focused playing of his youth, and he shows off a versatility and virtuosity that is stunning.
The strings O'Connor had on his Martin D-45 when he put it aside 20 years ago were still on the guitar when he recorded the first two songs for his new album. Nonetheless, "On Top of the World" and "Ease With the Breeze" ring with beauty and precision.
From "On Top of the World" and "Ease With the Breeze"—the first tracks recorded for Markology II,using his D-28 with the same strings that had been on it since he put it down in 1997—to awe-inspiring, fleet-fingered arrangements of "Beaumont Rag" and "Salt Creek," O'Connor proves that not only has he not lost anything with regards to his technique and musicality, but he's continued to grow well beyond the already highly developed playing we last heard from his flat-top box in the '90s. This makes Markology II not only a unique entry in his large discography, but a unique entry into the canon of solo acoustic guitar records that demand close study.
While he once again plays with rare speed and dexterity, O'Connor brings a lot of awareness to his physical approach to guitar. At 59, he knows he has to take care, listen to his body, and follow its cues in order to avoid another injury. "I have a template of how to approach playing with injury now," he assures. "The main thing is that you have to just discontinue playing the moment you feel pain in the arm or hand area. I mean, literally, as soon as you feel the twinge of pain for 5 seconds, you have to discontinue. I'm very hyper-aware of my limitations in that way." With this thoughtful and focused awareness, it will be thrilling to hear where Mark O'Connor takes his guitar playing for years to come.
Alabama Jubilee | Mark O'Connor | "Markology II" (Official Video)
Mark O'Connor takes a relaxed and efficient approach to picking while he sets his JC Baxendale-built dreadnought on fire with this version of "Alabama Jubilee." His creative and melodic solo guitar arrangement leaves lots of space for clever chording and hyper-fast licks while maintaining a casual and airy feel.
we can play guitar.”
“I Just Wanna Feel Something” sounds so dynamic and spontaneous. Do you and the band record together in the studio—like a live performance?
We set up with separation, but, yes, the five of us cut live. That’s the way to do it. There are three soloists on that one: Stephen, Scott, and me. We were really trying to maintain some space within the soloing to keep the feel of that song. It’s about the joy of jamming.
How long have you had the band together in this configuration?
Todd Parks, on bass, is the most recent member, since 2010. Stephen and Scott joined around 2006. It’s a very comfortable feeling when we walk onstage. I’ve been asked, “Do you get nervous before a show?” I’m, like, “No! I just wanna get on.” When I get to play with those four guys, I’m never nervous.
Speaking of playing live, how do you reproduce your rich mandolin tone onstage—presumably in some less-than-ideal acoustic environments?
It starts with the mandolin and the player. In this case, the mandolin is one I’ve owned since 1973—a 1937 Gibson F5, named Hoss. With Hoss, I use a Barcus-Berry pickup from the ’70s that was originally made to be put in the bridge of guitars. I don’t glue them in. I just wedge them between the adjustable pieces of the mandolin bridge. I also have a Countryman Isomax 2 microphone on my instrument. Both of these go to a stereo jack, then out to a preamp called the Chard Stuff Acoustic Helper preamp, which was made by Richard Battaglia, the longtime soundman for New Grass Revival. He developed these preamps to accommodate a microphone and your pickup, so that’s part of the sound.
In your song “Handmics Killed Country Music,” you talk about listening to the Grand Ole Opry show when you were growing up. Is that true?
I grew up in Bowling Green, Kentucky. When the reception was good, we could listen to the Grand Ole Opry and watch Nashville television stations. I got to see and hear all these great country-music shows, assuming everybody else did that on Saturday afternoons, too. Later on, when I started traveling for a living, I learned that most of those shows were syndicated for Nashville and not everybody in America got to see them.
FACTOID: In addition to his maestro mandolin playing, Sam Bush also plays guitar—notably on the track he wrote with Emmylou Harris, “Handmics Killed Country Music.”
Growing up in the ’60s, I also got to watch The Ed Sullivan Show. I saw all the Beatles performances, and the Rolling Stones when they did “Let’s Spend the Night Together” and had to change the words. It was a great time to grow up.
I thought “handmics killed country music” would be a fun line to sing. I cowrote that song with Emmylou Harris. As we were writing, we realized that we used to identify people back then with what kind of guitars they played. Ernest Tubb and Loretta Lynn had these beautiful Epiphones. Don Gibson played a Gibson Super 400. When we first saw Porter Wagoner, he played Martin D-28, then later became known for his Gibson J-200. We talk about that in the song.
What turned the tide? It must have been television, in the ’60s, making stars out of good ol’ country boys. When they took away their guitars, there was nothing left to hold onto but microphones. The song is meant to be lighthearted—we’re not preaching. And, of course, nothing is killing country music.
I like the acoustic guitar fills on that one. Is that Stephen Mougin?
That’s actually me playing the guitar fills on there, while I cut my vocal. I have the mandolin player’s disease—we all think we can play guitar.
You really do play guitar! While doing research for this interview, I stumbled upon a clip of you playing “Mustang Sally” on a Gibson Firebird.
Rock ’n’ roll has always been a love for me. Blues too—especially on guitar. Back in Bowling Green, my friend Kenny and I used to sit my bedroom and work on B.B. King licks and Freddie King licks.
Sam Bush has owned “Hoss,” a 1937 Gibson F5, since 1973. He uses a ’70s Barcus-Berry pickup that he wedges between the adjustable pieces of the mandolin bridge.
There seems to be a hint of Duane Allman in your slide-mandolin playing on “Lefty’s Song.”
Like many other young musicians, once I heard Duane Allman I had to try to play like him. I read somewhere that Duane used a Coricidin bottle as a slide, so I went right into my medicine cabinet and got to it.
Which instrument are you playing on that song? It doesn’t sound like Hoss.
That’s my 1938 National 4-string resonator mandolin.
What’s your slide tuning?
From the first string to the fourth, it’s D–A–D–A. [Editor’s note: Bush is describing his tuning high to low.] There’s no defining major or minor third in that tuning, so you can’t really play chords, though I do play some rhythm on it. That tuning is a 4-string version of Bill Monroe’s open-D 8-string cross-tuning for “Get Up John.” Bill Monroe never played blues slide mandolin, but he sure influenced me.
Besides Allman-like slide technique, are there other guitar concepts that you’ve integrated into your mandolin style?
Not at every show, but most shows, our band will have an electric portion within our set. For that, I usually play my 1956 Fender electric mandolin. Basically, it’s a miniature 4-string solidbody electric guitar. Having just four strings, I can bend notes. I can’t do that on an 8-string mandolin. So, that’s where I take my electric-guitar knowledge and apply it.
When I talk to guitarists who are trying to learn the mandolin, I understand what they mean when they say the strings are backwards from what they’re used to. I’m fortunate, in that I started mandolin at age 11 and started guitar at age 13. I learned the two instruments together. For me, they’re totally different things. I don’t think of the mandolin when I’m playing guitar.
Who are some of your favorite guitarists?
Eric Clapton, John McLaughlin, and Jeff Beck—they’re the three I love the most on electric guitar, for different reasons.
Why McLaughlin?
I initially became aware of him because I was a follower of the fiddle player in the Mahavishnu Orchestra, Jerry Goodman. I loved the whole Mahavishnu trip. I think I’m just now starting to understand their first album. I remember buying that record, turning out the lights, and listening to it. It scared the shit out of me!
Gear
MandolinsGibson 1937 F5 mandolin (nicknamed “Hoss”)
Gibson Sam Bush model
National 1938 resonator mandolin (4-string)
Fender 1956 electric mandolin (4-string)
Mandolin pickup, mic, and amplification
Barcus-Berry Hot Dot pickup
Countryman Isomax 2 microphone
Divine Noise cable (stereo)
Chard Stuff Acoustic Helper preamp
Polytone Mini-Brute II amplifier (acoustic mandolin)
Fender Hot Rod Deluxe amplifier (electric mandolin)
Greer Ghetto Stomp overdrive pedal (electric mandolin)
Strings and Picks
Gibson Sam Bush signature monel-wound strings (.011–.041)
Fender celluloid picks (.96 mm)
There’s also this song called “Someone” that James Taylor recorded on his One Man Dog album. John McLaughlin wrote it and plays acoustic guitar on it. It’s so beautiful. McLaughlin does that thing—it’s literally float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. There’s definitely some McLaughlin-isms that I’ve brought to the mandolin, certain ways of phrasing.
And Beck?
I saw him a few years ago at the Ryman Auditorium here in Nashville. I walked away thinking, “That was the greatest guitar show that I’ve ever seen—by anyone.” It was playful and joyful. People might think of Jeff just for his hot licks, but his melodic sense is awesome. And some of the things I’d always assumed he was playing with a slide—no, he’s not. It’s just in the way he plays.
When you go back and forth between the mandolin and guitar, do use the same type of pick?
I grew up playing with the standard-shaped guitar pick. I don’t use the pointed edge when I’m playing mandolin; I use the two rounder edges. I think it’s a little bit harder on your thumb and first finger to hold the pick that way, but that’s part of the tone. For flatpicking on acoustic guitar, sometimes I’ll switch to the point to help the notes cut through.
Listening to you talk about Storyman, and about instruments and players, it’s clear that you really are a gifted storyteller. When you’re improvising a solo, do you feel like you’re telling a story instrumentally—without words?
Years ago, I used to play with Leon Russell. One night, Leon brought on a harmonica player named Juke Logan. Man, he was like Little Walter reincarnated! One night, we got into this jam onstage. I was playing my Fender electric mandolin, trading lines back and forth with Juke on the harp. After the song ended, we just went and went. I saw Juke was getting all red in the face. After the set, he came up to me and said, “Hey! I gotta breathe! And, by the way, I think if you learned to breathe in your phrases, then your playing would improve about 75 percent.” That really got me thinking about space and phrasing and stuff.
When I’m improvising a solo, if I’m succeeding, I’m making a melody on the spot. There’s a start and a finish, and it all goes together. You try for that every time. It can’t always happen, but that’s the goal. When you’ve succeeded, you’ve made a phrase that’s melodic. There’s Jeff Beck for you, right there.
YouTube It
Though Sam Bush is best known for the “new grass” sound he pioneered, a blues-rock streak runs right through the middle of his heart—as is evident in this solo performance. Here, Bush tips his hat to Lowell George and Eric Clapton as he segues from Little Feat’s “Sailin’ Shoes” into Cream’s fiery “Crossroads.”