Bean Blossom

Welcome to Bean Blossom!

There are three bluegrass festivals on my bucket list: Telluride, Merlefest and Bean Blossom. I’ve been to Telluride twice, once with my wife & daughter just for a day in 2001 and for the full week with my buddy Jim Medley 2012. Since it dovetailed nicely into my desire to visit the state of Michigan this year, I signed up for a full 8 day pass to Bean Blossom 2018. The central Indiana location is only 3-4 hours from Springfield IL, so I invited Jim to join me once again, thinking he might be able to drive over for the weekend. To my surprise, he took the entire week off work, so I had the pleasure of the company of one of my oldest friends for the whole festival. What a treat!

Campsite #104 in “The Woods” section at Bean Blossom.

I called in January to make my reservation and since I had no experience with this festival, I put my fate in the hands of the nice lady who was answering the phone. I must say she treated me well – we ended up with a prime spot in “The Woods” section just a short walk from the stage. The Woods features plenty of shade trees unlike many of the open sites, a fact that would prove significant as the thermometer climbed to the nineties during our stay. I ended up arriving a day early, which was no problem for the campground. The Bean Blossom Bluegrass Festival is just one of several  music events held at this RV park each year on property Bill Monroe purchased in 1951.

I’ve been to a lot of bluegrass fests, but the number of top flight bands at Bean Blossom is truly impressive, particularly for traditional bluegrass acts. Each day the lineup reads like the IBMA awards nominees list, making it a bit challenging not to become numb over the course of the 8 day event. One thing Telluride taught me is you gotta pace yourself!

In addition to the main stage, Bean Blossom has a secondary workshop stage and a huge number of jams going on all the time all around the sprawling campgrounds. There was a reasonably good selection of food vendors near the stage so you could grab a bite between sets without returning to the camper and of course there was a Merch’ area where each band sold their CD’s, shirts and stuff. This custom is one of the things I find most endearing about the bluegrass world – there aren’t many other genres of music where national headliners sit at a table after their performance signing CD’s and chatting with fans, but it’s is a fixture of the acoustic music festival scene.

I bought two albums during the week, both individual releases from artists appearing with bands at BB. The first was The Old Kentucky Gypsy by John Rigsby who was performing with Ralphy Stanley II & the Clinch Mountain Boys. John did an a capella version of Beulah Land that just knocked me out; only later after buying the CD did I learned he performed the piece at Dr. Stanley’s memorial service. Powerful stuff. The second was a collection of all original music by banjoist Gina Clowes. She was appearing as part of Chris Jones’ Night Drivers band, but I really liked her progressive acoustic sound. All but one tune on her True Colors album were written by Gina, although she’s only singing lead on about a third the cuts. Highly eclectic, with instruments not typically found in bluegrass music like cello and marimba.

But back to Bean Blossom.

The main stage features entertainment from roughly 11 AM to 11 PM each day. This festival is structured with most bands doing two 45 minute shows on the same day, giving you the opportunity to just catch the morning or afternoon set. If you really like an act you can see both shows because they perform a different set of numbers for each.  Jim and I had a big time, usually spending over six hours a day enjoying amazing bluegrass acts. The weather was typically hot and humid, with occasional rain and a couple rare cool spells. Not perfect of course, but it’s all a part of the outdoor festival experience.

We took time off from the stage to check out the Bill Monroe Memorial Museum & Bluegrass Hall of Fame, located at the front of the park. Here you can see lots of keepsakes from the Monroe & Bluegrass Boys, costumes worn on stage by various Opry stars and historical bits regarding the festival itself.

Like most, I was aware of Monroe’s importance in defining bluegrass as its own genre separate from folk music, but I had no idea so many musicians had learned their craft directly from the master. There were over 300 Blue Grass Boys over the years!

One of my favorite items in the museum was a newspaper article written about the sixth annual festival in 1972. As something of a wordsmith myself, I truly enjoy a well turned phrase. Reporter John Filiatreau wrote a picture with this description of hippies showing up at Bean Blossom that made me laugh out loud:

“Hairy creatures with smiles of stoned surprise, and their girls, whose unhampered breasts bob like apples in a party tub.”

The story continued to relate how the world of bluegrass was changing, offering as an example the band Second Generation fronted by Newgrass upstart Eddie Adcock. The author asked the question: “Could hillbilly music survive these new influences?”

Jim and I watched Eddie Adcock perform a delightful show on the 52nd Annual Bean Blossom Bluegrass Festival stage at the age of 80, and he was a delight. I guess that’s your answer.

For a change of pace, we also made the ten minute drive to Nashville Indiana, the self-proclaimed “Art Colony of the Midwest”. There were lots of interesting shops to walk around and see in this very pedestrian-friendly small town, and we had a really nice lunch at a funky restaurant called the Hobnob Corner, including the biggest serving of strawberry shortcake I’ve ever seen. We split an order, and still didn’t finish it all!

All too soon our time at Bean Blossom drew to a close. Like children overdosed on Halloween candy, we were both ready for a change of pace. Jim headed out early Sunday morning to visit a cousin, and I spent a leisurely day reorganizing the trailer for solo use and preparing to get on the road again. As I pulled the camper toward the dump station Monday morning, the metamorphosis was striking; what was once a busy small town of music fans was now pastoral Indiana farmland again. I wouldn’t have been surprised to turn the corner and see Mr. Monroe himself riding one of his horses up out of the draw.

The party’s over.

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