Some good advice from Dwight ~ April 15, 1999

David Heiller

He was brutally honest. He wasn’t trying to make friends. Good teachers are like that, and Dwight Diller is a good teacher.

I would like to pass on a few of the things I learned from him last weekend.

Not so much about the banjo, although that’s what he was trying to teach 15 of us in St. Paul. His words, seen from a different angle, could apply to many aspects of life.

Dwight plays a clawhammer style of banjo that he learned growing up in West Virginia. I don’t want to condense his story too much, lest I misrepresent him. But it was pretty obvious that he draws strength from this very specific music from his home, and like most of us, Dwight’s home is where his heart is.

Not Virginia, or Kentucky, or North Carolina. He doesn’t play that music, even if you or I couldn’t tell the difference.

It’s not that he dislikes it. He’s not a musical racist. He has played it in the past. He is famil­iar with it. But he won’t play it anymore,

He sticks to songs from his region of West Vir­ginia. He learned many of them from a family that took him in at a dark time in his life, when he was a young adult. This family reached him with their music.

Dwight’s music is a very important part of who he is. I couldn’t help but envy that.

David playing his banjo on our deck.
We finally got to move to the River that he loved so well.

Ask yourself this: What do you have that tie you to a certain geographical area? Family, you might say, and that is very important, probably more than anything else. The land itself might draw you. I feel a kinship to the Mississippi River and the hills where I grew up that will never go away.

But things like music—and dancing, which goes along with it—are not something that con­nects many of us modern-day folks to a commu­nity, to a certain region, or to our past. Cars, television, jobs have taken it away from many of us. We’ve let that happen, which isn’t exactly a compliment.

My hunch is that Dwight could see that de­tachment heading his way. He stopped it with music. Now he not only is clinging to his music as a way to keep his roots and culture, he is teaching it to others, and trying to get them to do the same thing.

You wouldn’t call Dwight’s banjo playing fancy. He’ll never be confused with Earl Scruggs. Some of his songs aren’t pretty. He doesn’t want them to be. But they are honest and played from his heart. That’s what he does want.

He said that over and over last weekend. Play from your heart. Play honest music. Find the music that speaks to you, and play it. Play ­the music you are compelled to play, the music you keep going back to. Tell your own story.

But listen to the old people.

Don’t try to learn a lot of songs. If you only know a few songs, that’s fine. But learn them well.

Stick to one kind of music. Don’t do a buffet. You won’t regret it. Find your music, and learn to play it well.      

Play slowly. If you can’t play a song slowly, you certainly won’t be able to play it fast. Don, get caught up with speed.    

Be proud of what you do. Once you cross a line, don’t ever go back. Don’t let people put you down.

Those were some of Dwight’s words of wisdom. He got a bit preachy at times. He hammered it home. But he made his point, not only with his words but with his music. He taught us one song, called Shaking Down the Acorns, that conveyed more sadness than words could express. I felt it as I played the banjo and he played the fiddle.

Dwight taught me a lot, and not just about banjo technique. He reminded me about the many levels that music contains.

Dwight Diller http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FUkO4nv81fk

There’s the beauty of certain notes played together in a certain way, and the feelings that these can bring out. There’s the culture and the land that gave birth to the music. And there are the memories of the people who lived, and live in that culture and land. People like Dwight Diller.