Ken Kolodner first picked up a fiddle in 1977 with a simple goal: to play well enough to join others.

Then a newcomer to music, the Baltimore native learned by ear and from other musicians. He took a classical violin lesson once but—in what can only be viewed as a sign—it was disrupted by a home robbery. Nobody was hurt but, as Kolodner recalls, “That was the end of my violin lessons.”

But it didn’t stop his interest in music. He went on to attend workshops and festivals across the Mid-Atlantic. He sharpened his skills, learned another instrument—the hammered dulcimer—and formed Helicon, a beloved Baltimore-based trio that blended various musical styles, including Appalachian bluegrass and its predecessor, “old time,” aka early American folk music, often performed for rural dances and social gatherings.

Now 70, Kolodner has become a sort of elder statesmen of Baltimore’s old-time music scene—performing locally, giving lessons, and co-hosting jam sessions every other Tuesday at The Bluebird Cocktail Room with his son, Brad, 35.

“I had no vision of pulling together the community,” he says. “I was basically just playing.”

Today, the father-son duo organizes the Baltimore Old Time Music Festival, a two-day gathering of roots musicians from across the country. In its sixth year, it returns to the Baltimore Museum of Industry (BMI) on April 18 and 19.

“Last year, we sold about 1,200 tickets,” says Brad, a celebrated clawhammer banjoist in his own right. “We’re going to hit that again. We’ve [already] pulled in folks from 24 states.”

Baltimore has long been a hub for bluegrass and old-time music, though it’s never exactly been flashy about it. As the coal industry declined in the mid-20th century, Southern migrants traveled the “Hillbilly Highway” north, bringing their string instruments to working-class neighborhoods in Baltimore, whose residents fueled the city’s war-time industrial boom.

“Many Appalachian migrants were viewed as outsiders,” says Brad. “Their music and culture weren’t something they tried to commodify or promote.”

Instead, the music took off organically. Much of the scene developed in homes and corner bars, where workers performed until last call. Whether their musical circles were a distraction from the grind or a celebration of togetherness, the scene was participatory.

And it fostered some Americana greats, including West Virginia-born singer Hazel Dickens, who arrived in Hampden as a teenager, worked factory jobs by day and performed locally at night, her evocative voice carrying her all the way to induction into the Bluegrass Hall of Fame.

Dickens’ story epitomizes Baltimore’s industrious DNA. This month, the Old Time Festival will take place where workers once hauled crates for Platt & Co. Oysters, a canning giant in the 1880s, when it employed some 30,000 people. Nearby, the Domino Sugars sign will twinkle, a storied reminder of the industry that has hummed along the Patapsco River.

It’s that same spirit that remains alive in the city’s creative community today. “You can have a good quality of life and make a living as an artist here,” says Brad. “Baltimore probably has the largest and fastest-growing old-time music community in the country.”

The festival reflects that momentum. Programming kicks off on Thursday, April 17, with a honky-tonk dance party at Waverly Brewing. Friday night brings a kickoff concert at the BMI, followed by Saturday’s all-day main event.

Attendees can enjoy stage performances as well as hands-on workshops with teaching artists and living room-style jams where people can play alongside the very musicians inspiring old-time’s new directions, like headlining act New Dangerfield, a string band reviving Black folk traditions.

“It’s a testament to what’s happening here,” says Brad. “Old-time music will never die. We’re just the current incarnation—but it’ll go on long after us.”

Host artists and father-son duo Ken and Brad Kolodner have big plans for the inaugural Baltimore Old Time Music Festival.

Those include a Friday night concert, workshops, intimate performances from headline performers, and a Saturday night square dance, all to celebrate the music that made its way from Appalachia and cemented its legacy in Baltimore during the 20th century.

This boot-stomping fest from March 22-23 at Creative Alliance will feature acts such as Molsky’s Mountain Drifters, Corn Potato String Band, The Local Honeys, Jake Blount, and Tatiana Hargreaves, who are sure to bring the house down with fiddles, banjos, dulcimers, and plenty of dancing.

Future Islands

The Far Field (4AD)

They say that the only constant in life is change, but there’s something to be said for the familiarity of Future Islands. After skyrocketing to indie stardom following their 2014 Singles (and Letterman appearance gone viral), we feared we might lose the band to the big wide world forever. But here they are with their fifth full-length album, and that same heartaching synth-pop dance music we fell in love with all those years ago. A decade later, frontman Sam Herring is that same shapeshifting spirit, his voice sashaying across each track—full of longing, so potent and exposed—guided by William Cashion’s faithful bass, cocooned by Gerrit Welmers’ intoxicating melodies that permeate like a hazy dream. Sure, the trio has grown—their sound is more earthy and gentle yet urgent and robust; their bond has only strengthened with each mile of their tours. But they’re still the local muses we turn to in moments of wanderlust and heartbreak and joy, like confiding in an old friend. These new love songs and odes to the road continue to unabashedly embrace our emotions as they let go with abandon (“Ran”) or smash like a broken heart (“Shadows,” featuring the Debbie Harry). Future Islands is as pure and raw and imperfectly perfect as they ever were, just like Baltimore.

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Ken & Brad Kolodner

The Swift House (self-released)

In the days of auto-tune and digital everything, the purity of Ken and Brad Kolodner is a breath of fresh air. Rooted in old-time music, the father-son duo makes effortless tunes that flow from their fingertips and hark back to pastoral days past. Their stripped-down arrangements let the music speak for itself, be it a toe-tapping instrumental or a narrative melody filled with soft harmonies and honey-coated vocals. Between Brad’s banjo, Ken’s fiddle and hammered dulcimer, and a few friends toting upright bass and guitar, it feels like a front-porch family jam session, and that’s precisely right—this being their third album together, recorded right in their very own home. An acclaimed instrumentalist and rising folk favorite, respectively, Ken and Brad combine their talents into a dynamic interpretation of traditional music, and while their covers are an ode to their folk roots, it’s their gifted originals where the passion truly lies. Get lost in the luminous slow build of “Sap’s Rising/Dull Chisel,” or the unexpected jazz influence of the title track. And be sure not to miss their kindred collaboration live at the Creative Alliance on April 15.

See our full interview with father-son duo Ken & Brad Kolodner.

Folk music has deep roots in the Land of Pleasant Living, with bluegrass, folk, and Old-Time music stretching back to the earliest days of Appalachia. Father-and-son duo Ken and Brad Kolodner take that legacy to the next level, combining Ken’s lauded experience with Brad’s rising talent to create a homegrown sound that carries on the local tradition in not just their own family but also the greater Baltimore community. We talked with the team about falling into folk music, its effect on their relationship, and the importance of musical stewardship. Catch them live at the Creative Alliance on April 15.

How did you get into playing music?
Ken: I always loved music but through my later years of high school and college, especially in the summers, I would go to fiddlers’ festivals. It looked like people were having so much fun playing music together, and I thought perhaps that’s something I could do.

My goal when I first picked up the fiddle was that it would be great if I could someday play music with other people. I picked it up just before grad school at Johns Hopkins, and within a couple years I was playing music with all sorts of folks and decided that was a great way to spend my life.

And Brad?
Brad: I listened to some of the recordings from my father’s previous band, Helicon, so I certainly enjoyed music, but I didn’t express any interest in trying to play. Nor was it ever pushed on me. I played the cello as a requirement when I was a student at Friends School but I didn’t really start playing folk music until my senior year of high school when I went to a music camp and signed up for a banjo class. It sounded interesting. I thought I might as well just give it a shot.

What was it about the banjo that made you decide to steer in that direction?
Brad: I knew it was going to be a pretty easy way to become a millionaire. [Laughs]. No—I just liked the way it felt in my hands and in my fingers. I was particularly attracted to the way my first banjo teacher, Richie Stearns, approached the instrument. It was very unique, very groovy. I picked it up pretty quickly and I’ve just enjoyed it ever since.

As father and son, how has performing together influenced your music and your relationship?
Brad: We spend a lot of time together, which is really nice in many ways. The band isn’t going to break up, per se. We have a lot of shared experiences and common interests. It’s different working with my dad and working with friends but that being said, any kind of close-knit band has a familial feel to it.

Ken: In every musical relationship, you have to learn how to communicate with each other, to say what you like about each other’s performance and what doesn’t work, and to be respectful. I’ve been in bands and had many musical partners over the years where you evolve that relationship. With Brad, same thing, but we already know how to talk to each other. The one thing I had to learn was to not be the guy in charge, and recognize that Brad has his own musical vision and to let him express that.

Brad: Those first couple of years, I was certainly latching on and trying to soak in as much as I could, and I still do, but now there are certain components of the music and the business side of doing this for a living that we learn from each other. I’d say it’s a pretty equal two-way street.

How has it felt to watch Brad grow as a musician?
Ken: It’s been wonderful to watch. I remember in the early days when I would bring him up on stage, my wife would say, “Is he ready for this?!” And I would say, “Yeah, he’s ready—he’s good!” I said to her a couple of times that I thought he was going to be really good, eventually. I trusted him performing on stage in those early days.

At first he was a little scared, a little stiff, but that’s normal. Now his stage presence is fantastic. I’ve really seen his confidence as a player emerge. As a musician, you hope you never stop developing and growing, and it’s great to see that happening when it’s on stage with you and it’s your own son.

Brad: I am grateful for those early experiences with musicians who were far better than me. You learn a lot, being thrown into the fire.

Now you’re an important part of the local folk scene.
Brad: There’s a whole network of old-time and folk musicians in Baltimore that we’re really grateful to be a part of. We’ve been working really hard to see that community grow, be it with the old-time jam we run at the Five & Dime Ale House in Hampden, or the Baltimore Square Dance I help organize, or the house concerts we help put on. It feels like a responsibility of ours to help keep it alive.

Ken: For me, it’s very gratifying to see so many young players and young folks interested in the music.

Brad: It’s becoming a bluegrass and old-time and folk music town again.