I wrote a diary last year about banjo players, my own playing, and the strange connections that came from a group of fellow banjoists and I to the 9/11 plane crash in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. It really made my day when the story hit the rec list, and deepest thanks again to the Rescuers.
Here's another, full of odd connections, twists, and a hot contemporary issue. It's the strange story of Johnny Butten.
Johnny Butten is a banjo playing Englishman. England has a real affection for the 5-string banjo that goes all the way back to the earliest Minstrel troupes; one of the earliest and most popular, The Virginia Minstrels, toured there in the 1840's, and were the toast of London. Queen Victoria requested an appearance, and Charles Dickens was a big fan.
Over the years, the British developed their own singular style of banjo manufacture- their instruments are called Zither Banjos, and their own style of playing is similar, but different, to the American 3-finger picking styles. London had many fine banjo making companies, large and small, and still have some.
Bluegrass is very popular over there these days, but the bluegrass community there is smaller, and the professional players are relatively few, as gigs are more scarce than they are here. Johnny Butten is a farmer and a professional player who has won every banjo championship in Europe. He topped out over there, so he came here to widen his professional horizons and opportunities.
Johnny was unknown here until a few years ago. He became famous (or notorious, depending on the opinion) through a strange series of events:
An American professional, Todd Taylor, who is known for his extremely fast playing, contacted the Guinness Book of World Records and proposed a 'Fastest Banjo' category around 2005. The folks at Guinness accepted the proposal, but didn't know a thing about the 5-string and it's music. Like most non-players, the first tune that came to their mind was Duelin' Banjos. This became the required song to be played to establish and defend the speed record.
It was a lousy choice. Duelin' Banjos is a true duet. It requires two banjos to be played correctly, but it can be played by one player in close imitation of the real tune. This is done by jumping from a low part to the same part an octave higher, which is a very difficult endeavor at high speed.
Todd was ill the day the record was to be set, and his performance was a bit patchy. The speed was counted not by a metronome, but a drum machine, at 210 beats per minute. The performance was videoed in a studio, and Todd made it into the next record book.
Johnny heard of the record, and claimed he could play it faster. His performance was done in public at a festival, and was counted by an electronic metronome at 220. The metronome faced the audience, and could be seen by anyone who wanted to watch. It was also video recorded.
Johnny's performance was much cleaner than Todd's, and to a lot of experienced players, their approaches to the tune were much different- Todd attempted to play to every beat of the drum machine, but Johnny played to the quarter beat of the metronome. The drum machine had more flim-flams going on, so who really plated the fastest was highly disputed. Both stayed in time to their much different machines. Both used octave jumping to play the tune. (210 is blistering fast. 220 is blistering hell for fast. Most rock songs are around 75 or less.)
An uproar ensued that lasted most of a year. Bad choice of song, no standard for time keeping, no regulations on where or how the attempts were to be done, no points for performance quality, etc.
Guinness went all over the place. They first stuck by Todd, then declared the whole thing invalid, then recognized Johnny, then both as co-winners.
Eventually, Guinness completely changed the rules; any new attempt would be done playing Foggy Mountain Breakdown, the famous Earl Scruggs tune. It was to be played from sheet music, and points were established as to how exactly the tune was played to the sheet. Unfortunately, Mr. Scruggs' publishing company refused the give the rights to play Foggy without royalty payments- it's copyrighted. So the record is now in permanent limbo. (Every bluegrass banjoist can play Foggy to some degree, ironically- it's the other tune most known.)
Johnny decided to immigrate here, taking advantage of his new fame. He could teach, perform, give clinics at festivals and the like here, and make a living at playing the banjo. He packed up his wife and two kids, obtained a work visa as An Alien of Estraordinary Abilities, and immigrated to Minnesota in 2007, where he bought a farm and began living the American dream. He became an endorser for a popular banjo brand, and was well on his way.
This year, before his visas expired, Johnny applied for green cards for him and his family. Much to his surprise, he discovered that on his original application, he was listed as a nuclear scientist, not a alien of extraordinary abilities. (That classification is used for musicians, writers, artists and the like).
Shortly afterward, his green card application was denied because he wasn't a nuclear scientist. That was an obvious Immigration Dept. mistake, and Johnny appealed.
You can read it all here in an article that was printed in the High Plains Reader:
http://hpr1.com/...
About three weeks ago, his appeal was denied without much comment. The Guinness record didn't count for squat to Immigration. I had to agree with that, because it was a mess, but there are very few recognized awards or prizes for banjoists. (Steve Martin recently created the Steve Martin Prize, to correct this. It's an annual $50,000 award.)
Johnny wrote to me that he would have been better off if he had entered the country illegally and then applied for clemency. He has a Senator on his side, and still has some time before he has to leave and go back to Somerset, so he's still hoping for the best. But he acknowledges that his chances of being able to stay are pretty slim right now, and he's uncertain of what will become of his farm. He spent everything he had to buy it.
I wrote a letter of support for him, as did many others. I'm somewhat bitter about this- I think that if Johnny had been a classical violinist, or a piano teacher, he wouldn't have had to go through his troubles. The banjo doesn't get a lot of respect oftentimes, but the skill level required at it's professional level is as great as either of the instruments I mentioned.
So, I'm hoping the best for my buddy, but expecting the worst. This is a side of the immigration issue that isn't talked about much, but it's happening to a lot of other immigrants who did things legally, including some nuclear scientists.
America gets many of the world's best who come here to study, and remain to take advantage of our innovative ways. Sending them a-packing back to their homelands is a loss to us, and a travesty of our heritage. Too bad for Johnny, and too bad for us.