By the third day of Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, the morning fog was still lifting as a small crowd of 60 gathered on the dewy grass. Emmylou Harris — the legendary singer-songwriter and, arguably, the matriarch of the festival — paused mid-song during ‘Sweet Dreams,’ signaling to the sound booth. Her fans didn’t seem to mind the interruption. In fact, that’s why they were there — for the intimacy of the moment, of Harris sipping from her cup of tea, the rawness of her morning voice — it’s that unvarnished honesty, that sense of being let in on something private that has brought them to her sound check two hours before the festival officially begins.
On Sundays, some people practice their faith in a building lined with stained-glass windows and a wooden cross standing at the end of a long aisle. Others gather in temples with Buddha statues and tendrils of incense wafting. Some bow at a family altar for their ancestors or simply do their own thing. For fans of Emmylou Harris, however, once a year “church” begins at the end of the line — filled with devotees eager to claim a spot — and stretching along Transverse Drive. The green light to move into the park comes at 9 a.m. sharp: the gates open, and the sound of Harris and an accordion echo through the air. “Twenty-five years you’ve been showing up,” she calls out to her congregation.
“We call it church,” explains John Caldon, executive director of the festival. “On Sunday mornings, early, after we opened the gate … Emmylou comes out and does her sound check on stage, and people come just for that. So there’s always this kind of group of diehards that come for that.”
Among the diehards is Phoebe Tanner, a devoted fan who faithfully crosses the Bay Area most years to be in Hellman Hollow when Harris runs through her first notes. “Sometimes, I just come for the sound check,” she said.
The Church of Emmylou Harris — a nearly 25-year-old underground ritual — came to be by coincidence. What began as fans arriving early to snag a front-of-stage spot or a patch of grass under a shaded tree turned into them stumbling upon Harris’ sound check.
For David Boggs, a radio host for KVMR — a community radio station in the Sierra foothills— stumbling onto Harris and her sound check was serendipitous. Twenty-three years ago, Boggs was following his annual routine of arriving early to lay out his tarp when he caught Harris’ sound check by accident — a lucky find that’s become a yearly ritual.
It also shows dedication: A fan of Harris for 50 years, Boggs, travels from Nevada City — a two-and-a-half-hour drive — every year for the festival and always attends Harris’ sound check. She’s always near the top of his list of favorites from the three-day festival.
Jane Peccianti, a regular attendee who commutes from Martinez every year, arrived early just to see Harris. Peccianti grew up listening to Al Green and Stevie Wonder, transitioning to Harris in the ’80s.
She came across the church several years ago, when, like so many others, she simply arrived early to claim a good spot.
The fandom for the 1970s country rock star can be traced directly back to the festival’s roots. In 2001, founder Warren Hellman — a private equity pioneer — was inspired to put on a free one-day bluegrass festival in Golden Gate Park or, as he called it, “his selfish gift to San Francisco, because it was a gift to San Francisco, but he loved it more than anybody,” said Caldon. Part of this gift meant creating a stage for one of his favorite artists: Emmylou Harris. Since that inaugural festival, Harris has been the only artist to return every year.
What began as Hellman’s enthusiasm toward Harris’ music and the artists’ work in the “Oh Brother Where Art Thou” soundtrack, evolved into what we now know as Hardly Strictly Bluegrass.
“You feel like you’re touching the history of the thing [Church of Emmylou Harris], and it feels so intimate and simultaneously, so public,” said Caldon.
Today, the festival has expanded to give a platform to new and emerging artists such as Molly Tuttle or A.J. Lee, both of whom grew up in the California Bluegrass Association but also maintain what once was. The festival also honors the “hardly” in their name by making space for artists from a variety of genres. “It went from being this sort of preserver of a certain culture to be kind of being a promulgator of a certain culture,” Caldon said.
Elyse Connolly, 30, and her dad Mike Connolly, 72, have attended the festival several times. They just came across “church” this past Sunday morning for the first time. Both long-time fans of folk music, the father-daughter duo were pleasantly surprised to see Harris this early in the morning.
“You can’t be in music and not know who Emmylou Harris is,” said Mike Connolly.
