Music isn’t just a hobby for me—it’s a lifeline. At 62 (63 in May), I’m still plucking strings, leading projects, and diving into the history of every note. Two ventures define this passion: Mandolin New England, Inc., where I’m co-founder, president, and mandocello player, and Celticado, the Celtic music duo I’ve poured my heart into for over 20 years. Here’s the story of how they came to be, what they’ve cost me (in dollars and sweat), and why they’re worth every second.
Mandolin New England: Building a Dream, One String at a Time
Back in 2001, I co-founded Mandolin New England, Inc., with a simple goal: bring mandolin music to life in our corner of the world. I’d been hooked on the instrument’s bright, shimmering sound for years, and I wanted others to feel that magic too. Setting it up wasn’t a solo gig—it took a village, a lawyer, and a stack of paperwork taller than my mandocello case.
Filing for nonprofit status was the first hurdle. I hired a lawyer in Amherst to navigate the IRS 501(c)(3) maze—cost me about $1,500, including filing fees. Worth it, though; that status let us fundraise and keep concerts free. Then there was the grunt work: drafting bylaws, forming a board, and figuring out how to turn my vision into something sustainable. I remember late nights at my Granby, MA, kitchen table, scribbling ideas between cups of coffee. Total startup costs, including legal help and some early promotional materials, ran around $2,000 out of pocket. Not cheap, but passion doesn’t come with a discount code.
Fast forward to today, and I’m president of an organization that’s grown its membership by 50% and raised over $10K for music education. The real payoff? Putting on free concerts at places like the Porter Phelps Museum in Hadley and the Renaissance Center at UMass Amherst. Picture this: a summer evening at Porter Phelps, the sun dipping low, families sprawled on blankets, and our mandolin orchestra filling the air with Vivaldi or a bluegrass twist. Or a crisp fall day at the Renaissance Center, students and profs pausing to hear us pluck out something Baroque. I play mandocello—think of it as the mandolin’s deeper, soulful cousin—and every time I bow those strings, I’m reminded why we built this. It’s not just music; it’s connection, history, and a gift to anyone who’ll listen.
Celticado: A Celtic Love Story
Then there’s Celticado, my other musical heartbeat. I co-founded it in 2004 with Jim Bunting, a luthier and mandolin wizard from Enfield, CT. Jim crafts instruments that sing, and together, we’ve been making Celtic music hum for over two decades. We met through the mandolin scene—two guys who couldn’t get enough of jigs, reels, and the haunting lilt of an Irish air. What started as a jam session turned into a duo that’s played countless weddings and private gigs, with a repertoire spanning hours of traditional tunes.
I love this music—plain and simple. There’s something about a reel like “The Rights of Man” or a slow air like “The South Wind” that pulls you into centuries past. It’s the sound of Irish hills, Scottish moors, and the people who carried these melodies across oceans. Playing it with Jim feels like stepping into that history. I’m on mandolin or guitar, he’s on mandolin or bouzouki, and together we weave something beautiful—lively enough to get toes tapping at a reception, tender enough to hush a room during a ceremony. We’ve logged 30+ bookings a year lately, and every gig reminds me why I fell for this in the first place.
Celticado’s more than a gig; it’s a partnership. Jim and I have stuck it out through thick and thin—tuning mishaps, rainy outdoor sets, you name it. He’s a craftsman who knows the soul of every instrument he builds, and I’m the guy who can’t stop chasing the next tune. Together, we’ve built something enduring, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Why It Matters
Mandolin New England and Celticado aren’t just hobbies—they’re who I am. One’s about giving back, orchestrating moments where music lifts a crowd. The other’s about diving deep into a tradition I adore, sharing it with folks at their happiest moments. Both keep me sharp, creative, and connected. I’ve poured time, money (that $2,000 startup for Mandolin New England was just the beginning), and endless energy into them, but the reward? Hearing a kid at Porter Phelps hum our melody days later, or seeing a bride tear up as we play “Danny Boy.” That’s the stuff that keeps me strumming.
So here I am, still leading, still playing, still loving every minute. Whether I’m bowing the mandocello with the orchestra or picking a reel with Jim, music’s my fuel. And I’m not stopping anytime soon—there’s too much beauty left to share.