Celebrating the Rhythm Bones Society 25th Anniversary at Bones Fest XXVIII
Traveling south past Clarksdale on Mississippi Highway 49, the historic Hopson Plantation came into view, rising from the Delta’s flat cotton fields. We turned west toward the Hopson Commissary, a century-old building, now a tourist attraction and event venue.
A collection of rustic sharecropper cabins and refurbished silos next to the tarnished Hopson cotton gin, The Shack Up Inn is one of the country’s most unique – and “The World’s Oldest” – B&B (Bed & Beer).
We were looking forward to spending the weekend with about 45 other folks from around the country and beyond, sharing the ancient and esoteric art of playing rhythm bones.
The rhythm bones are immortalized in The Bone Player, an 1856 oil painting by William Sidney Mount. From The Rhythm Bones Society (RBS) webpage: “Rhythm bones are one of the oldest man-made musical instruments, likely prehistoric. Two slabs are held between the fingers and clicks are made with wrist and arm movement. They can be played one- or two-handed. As the name suggests, they are made from animal bones, but also other materials like wood shaped like a bone. As one would expect, each material produces a different sound.” [sic]
The bones have contributed to many musical genres, including 19th century minstrelsy, traditional American, Celtic, blues, bluegrass, and zydeco.
Bones Fest XXVIII, May 2nd – 5th, 2024, was held in Clarksdale “Home of the Blues”, Mississippi, where Deep South agriculture history and the South’s distinctive blues music are featured and celebrated. It was a movie-like setting for this historical gathering.
At check-in, I met Steve Wixson, editor of the Rhythm Bones Player Newsletter, Secretary/Treasurer of the RBS, and “keeper of the flame,” as my husband describes him. Steve welcomed me enthusiastically, but I informed him I was not a bones player – just a spectator. Steve assured me I would be playing the bones at some point during the weekend. I was doubtful, but he knew.
Festival host Randy Seppala presented a treat for the Thursday night jam session. Acoustic blues and Americana musician, Reverend Robert Reynolds played resonator guitar and vocals; Edwin “Fast Eddie” Consolmagno added his soulful harmonica; Detroit singer, Maggie McCabe filled the hall with her expressive vocals; and Randy “DaBonesMan” Seppala played bones, washboard, conga, and a variety of other percussion instruments.
As the rhythm bones players in the audience jammed along with the earthy acoustic blues, I had an overwhelming feeling this was no ordinary music festival. Bones Fest was a family reunion. Musicians from varied backgrounds, connected by their common interest, some having known each other since the last century, were coming together again for their annual jam session. All were welcomed into the family.
My husband, Mark Shelton, was invited to perform with four other players on a composition by Mel Mercier, one of the world’s leading Irish percussionists. To honor the 25th Anniversary of the RBS, Mel wrote “Roll On,” a chamber music piece using the traditional rolls and taps of rhythm bones. Featuring five individual bones players, the rhythmic intricacies wove through the players, creating an exciting and dynamic ensemble.
The quintet included some of the bones family royalty: Skeff Flynn, Executive Director of RBS and rhythm bones champion, Sharon Mescher of the famed “Mescher Bones” group, and Mel Mercier, whose father Peadar Mercier performed with the Chieftains and was Ireland’s first professional bodhrán and bones player. Kenny Wolin, percussionist with “The President’s Own” United States Marine Band, brought his classical training and flawless technique to the mix and presented an advanced workshop focusing on the blues shuffle. Mark Shelton, Dallas-area percussionist and first-time Bones Fest attendee has played bones in thousands of performances during the past thirty years.
After hearing the rhythm bones quintet rehearse, revise, and refine, I asked Mel if I was hearing his original vision for the piece, or was it a process? He answered, “The process is the vision.”
Mark said, “It’s a rarity to hear an ensemble of bones playing in unison. The different timbres coming from the variety of materials form an interesting composite timbre. It’s not your typical bones playing.”
I overheard one attendee use the phrase “bones chords” to describe the cluster of timbres produced by the ensemble.
We stayed overnight in the appropriately named Dogtrot Cabin, giving us an authentic taste of sharecropper days gone by. Frogs skipped along as we walked the pave stones to our screened front porch. Birds sang and played under the eaves. With unpainted walls, an old clawfoot bathtub, and a back porch swing, we were comfortable guests in the vintage shack.
After lunch on Friday, I headed over to the Hopson Commissary and met Tate Antici. He and his wife, Chelsea, are the owners of Hopson Hospitality. They host blues, rock, country, and roots bands to entertain folks amid the blues relics and agricultural antiques.
Hopson Plantation, home of the first mechanical cotton-picker, is where Joe Willie “Pinetop” Perkins drove a tractor and played boogie-woogie and blues piano. I felt like I was walking on the hallowed ground of musical pioneers.
Friday night back at the Shack Up Inn’s “Juke Joint Chapel,” Joe McLerran & The Hokum Cats entertained with their lively blues renditions and encouraged bones jammin’. Joe’s young son played drums while his precious daughter stood next to her dad and danced to the energetic rhythms.
Saturday morning, I listened to “The Irish Discussion” with Mel Mercier, Skeff Flynn, and Tom Connolly, bones maker from Cork, Ireland. Learning that written history of Celtic rhythm bones playing began around the mid-1900s made me wonder about unknown or unrecorded rhythm bones mysteries. The conversation about the All-Ireland Bones Competition held each May gave me reason to plan another Ireland vacation.
The Saturday night finale at Morgan Freeman’s Ground Zero Blues Club in downtown Clarksdale was an evening I’ll never forget. With an iconic setting, the crowd was friendly and excited. Folks ate Fried Green Tomato Sammiches with Gitback Sauce and Mississippi Delta Catfish Dinners while waiting for the show to begin. The bones family gathered for the farewell event, showing love and support for each other as stories were told, songs were sung, and bones’ clickety-clacks reverberated through the venue. I felt the closeness of folks forever connected by a common thread.
The evening reached a high point as Reverend Robert played and sang with other musicians. Without warning, Mark put a pair of bones into my hands and before I knew it, I was swept into the ceremonial conga line–style parade, where 50 or more people played the bones and wove through the crowd of the partying juke joint. With two sticks placed strategically between my fingers, I was happy Mark had shown me how to make basic tones. Surrounded by expert players playing intricate rhythms, I could at least click along on the upbeat, smiling so big my face hurt.
Sunday morning, we said our goodbyes and drove away. Traveling south through flat Delta farmland, we reflected on Bones Fest, the nostalgic setting, and the unique culture. Music has a way of connecting souls. We are grateful for the warm welcome into the Rhythm Bones Society family.
