As soon as it’s safe to hold a ceremony, Marty Stuart will be inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame. He is the "Modern Era Artist" among this year's group, representing more recent developments in country music. In so many ways, though, the Nashville-residing icon — a Mississippi native who began touring as a guitarist with Lester Flatt’s band in 1971 at the tender age of 13 — embodies the genre’s past, present and future. On Oct. 28, he plays a role that’s a natural fit for that timeless nature, as host of Big Night at the Museum, a streaming program organized as a fundraiser for the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.
The two-hour film will premiere at 8 p.m. on the Hall of Fame’s YouTube channel. It’s free to watch, but there’ll be opportunities to make a donation to the Hall, which has, like so many other institutions, struggled with having to remain closed during the COVID-19 pandemic. The facility reopened at reduced capacity with pandemic precautions in place in September.
As with so much of Stuart’s career, the event traces the connection between past traditions and the future of the music, and it will do so in a unique way. You’ll see an array of contemporary and veteran country artists playing historic instruments from the museum’s collection. They’ve been carefully paired according to emotional and artistic connections. As you might expect, many acoustic guitars are involved: Carlene Carter performs on a 1928 Gibson L-5 that belonged to her grandmother Maybelle Carter, Keb’ Mo’ plays a 1928 custom Weymann once owned by Jimmie Rodgers, Ashley McBryde plays a 1956 Gibson J-50 belonging to Loretta Lynn and Miranda Lambert plays a guitar made for John Prine by David Russell Young. The stacked lineup is not exclusive to six-stringers, of course: Alison Brown picks Earl Scruggs’ 1930 Gibson RB Granada banjo, while Ricky Skaggs plays Bill Monroe’s 1923 Gibson F-5 mandolin.
Stuart himself will play a 1950 Martin D-28 guitar owned by Flatt, with which Stuart has a personal history. Stuart spoke with the Scene via phone ahead of the stream. It’s easy to get a sense of his humility, despite being recognized as a stalwart for maintaining the genre’s roots while driving it forward.
Outside of the wild idea of pulling out and playing instruments on display at the Country Music Hall of Fame, what makes this event so unique, and a moment that will inspire beyond the pandemic?
The Country Music Hall of Fame is the ultimate treasure chest. I feel totally at home there. Amazing things happen when artists touch these instruments. For instance, when Ricky Skaggs was playing Bill Monroe’s mandolin, Alison Brown was playing Earl Scruggs’ banjo and I was playing Lester Flatt’s guitar. Those instruments are still so vibrant that if we’d taken our hands off of them, they’d play themselves. They feel so glad to be out from behind glass, and we were so happy to be playing them. It’s like we became kids again.
In Ricky’s case, when he was younger, he sat at Bill Monroe’s feet, held that mandolin, and played it. I did, too. Lester’s guitar that I was playing was one that I adopted when I first moved into Lester’s home, and he let me play it. Earl’s banjo? Gosh, how many hours did I spend in front of that thing? It was a moment where it all lined up: The instruments won, the curators won and the fans will win from watching it. It was all good.
What is it about continuing to play these instruments that is both so empowering and important?
The sounds of these instruments, and the moments I’ve had with them, are what made me fall in love with country music.
Having Bill Monroe’s mandolin back in my hands reminded me of carrying it all over Japan when I released my Hillbilly Rock album, and we were touring over there. Just like I would’ve when I was 12 or 13, I carried his mandolin for him. Even deeper, I remembered the nights I spent on Bill Monroe’s tour bus, when I first joined Lester Flatt’s band. Also, some of the last photos of Bill are from the times my wife and I went out to his farm. At the end of those days, we’d play mandolins.
That guitar of Lester’s has a story, too. When I first came to Nashville, my folks lived down in Mississippi, so I lived at Lester’s house. One day, I walked in this little side room, and there, leaning up against the wall, was a guitar with no strings on it. I said, “My God, there’s THE guitar.” It was the one he’d played on all of those famous Flatt and Scruggs recordings like The Beverly Hillbillies theme song, all of that stuff. I took it in the kitchen, where Lester was sitting and asked to restring and adopt the guitar. He said, “Go ahead.”
You’ve become quite the renowned collector of country music artifacts. What is your latest addition, and what went into you adding it to your collection?
My wife Connie Smith and I went to Meridian, Mississippi, two months ago. I hosted an event at the Riley Center [on the campus of Mississippi State University] in Meridian. I inducted Jerry Lee Lewis, Bo Diddley, John Lee Hooker and Tammy Wynette into the Mississippi Musicians Hall of Fame. When we came home, I had Merle Haggard’s Telecaster and Ralph Mooney’s Sho-Bud steel guitar. Waylon Jennings’ son Buddy let me have Ralph’s steel guitar. It’s the guitar Ralph played on many of Waylon’s early records — the real good stuff. Merle’s guitar was in my warehouse in Mississippi, and I needed to bring it home. Connie, myself, and the guitars. What a trip, right? This is my life! That was a really good wagonload coming home.
There’s always conversation about how country music “isn’t what it used to be.” What are your thoughts about that statement?
Country music is always evolving. Sometimes, that’s on a straight path; other times, it’s crooked. Honestly, the morning after the Bristol Sessions in 1927, new songs and new stars with broader appeal were being made. I will say, that when country loses its way, it’s always important to return to its blueprint: Jimmie Rodgers, The Carter Family, Bill Monroe and that cast of characters. Those artists laid down for us a very clear path.
However, everyone has to follow their own heart to that path. What’s authentic to that path to me isn’t what’s authentic to that path to Florida-Georgia Line. However, I think there’s mutual respect between us. The Hall of Fame has really broad shoulders. It does an outstanding job of, in my opinion, teaching and inspiring so many denominations of country music.
Ultimately, the beauty of country music is that there’s something in it for everybody. Whether that’s the old-time classics, country-pop, bluegrass, rockabilly, Western swing, folk music, Countrypolitan music — it’s all somehow still one church under one roof.
If I said, “Country music is diverse, but also defined by a familial sense of unity,” is this also true? If so, why?
It’d be really easy to start a civil war in country music, but nobody would win. You can always point fingers at what is and isn’t “country music.” What speaks to me as country is different than what speaks to the heart of a kid who’s just getting to Nashville.
However, the Country Music Hall of Fame is a cathedral where we can all share common ground, and when we leave its doors, we leave there unified by the sound. Truly, country music casts a profound shadow, and is far bigger than any of us, as country artists, will ever be. In the midst of the pandemic, we’re now all back to playing music that is inspired by country’s enormous legacy.
Marty Stuart and His Fabulous Superlatives
Big Night at the Museum isn’t the first time that you’ve had your name attached to a diverse, all-star lineup. For almost two decades now, you’ve hosted the Late Night Jam at the Ryman, a yearly tradition which kicks off the CMA Music Festival. What inspired that?
In 2002, when I started my band the Fabulous Superlatives, I was between recording contracts. I had always been a part of the CMA Music Festival Fan Fair since 1973, and always had a main-stage spot. Because I didn’t have a contract, I was relegated to an awful spot on a secondary stage. My response to that? “I don’t think so!”
I remembered Wally Fowler’s All-Night Sing, a famous old gospel show on the Southern circuit that a promoter named Wally Fowler hosted back in the 1960s at the Ryman Auditorium. They’d start late at night and sing until sunrise. Instead of all night singing, I thought, “What about a late-night jam?” I figured we’ll start late, and see how it goes.
Ideally, I thought, it’d become the “pirate ship” event of the week. I figured that it’d be best to get away from the safe and obvious path of artists selling out the most shows with chart-topping records. I figured I could create something more authentic and great. I put my phone book to use to put some pretty eclectic things together on that stage that you wouldn’t see anywhere else. Rock and Roll Hall of Famers next to Country Music Hall of Famers and Bluegrass Hall of Famers and wild-card artists. I wanted to get artists from every avenue of musical life and let that speak.
That ties in with this amazing old instrument/young artist mix that’s a big part of what’s happening with Big Night. Can you speak to what you find valuable about some of those pairings?
We’re guilty, as a culture, of disregarding people because they’re a little bit older. I believe, “once great, always great.” If you disregard an older person, you kick wisdom, experience, and education out of the door. The most undefeatable combination, to me, at the same microphone, is the fire of youth, blended with wisdom and experience. Good things usually happen. That’s the spirit that inspires the Big Night.
After 49 years in country music, you’re being inducted into the Hall of Fame this year. Your thoughts on the honor?
Honestly, I didn’t think it was time for me to go into the Hall of Fame. In my heart, I was campaigning for Johnny Rodriguez, John Anderson, Tanya Tucker or Jerry Lee Lewis this year. I felt like that was something that we needed to get done. Tanya had such a great year in 2019, and moreover, so many of us wouldn’t have jobs if not for the work of the people I’ve mentioned. However, I know the weight of the matter, I am bowled over by the honor and I absolutely thankful that it could happen.
