A fiddler’s return: Pierre Schryer’s unforgettable homecoming to the Gatineau Hills Fiddle Festival

With an opening salvo to the audience that he would “make you all cry,” master fiddler Pierre Schryer made good on that promise with a transcendent performance delivered to a standing-room-only crowd at the La Fab sur Mill former church in Chelsea on Saturday afternoon.

A Franco-Ontarian originally from Sault Ste. Marie, Schryer moved out west to B.C. seven years ago and now lives on Gabriola Island. It felt good to be back in his “old stomping grounds” and to be reunited onstage with his older sister — accomplished pianist Julie Schryer, and longtime guitar accompanist Ian Clark, he mused.

The show was part of the Gatineau Hills Fiddle Festival, which featured all-ages workshops, dances and performances over the Oct. 23 to 26 weekend.

The three launched into “Sourgrass and Granite,” a piece by musician and composer Brian Pickell, Pierre and Julie’s close friend and musical companion for more than 50 years. When Pickell died in February, Pierre described him as “a gentleman with wit that made you feel like part of the gang” with “a true knack for writing great fiddle tunes on his mandolin.”

A traditional Irish waltz inspired by the beauty of the open meadows and forested granite outcroppings at Julie’s farm property, to hear “Sourgrass and Granite” played live by those who know it not only evoked an image of the location but a sensation of what it’s like to be there.

If there were ever a musician that can embody the goal of playing the violin in such a manner that it “rivals the most perfect human voice,” as violinist Francesco Geminiani wrote in 1751, this concert demonstrated that Pierre is one of them.

A Canadian Grand Master Fiddle Champion and recipient of multiple folk music awards and nominations, including for a Juno, Pierre’s mastery of the instrument — he plays on a fiddle he made himself, with a bow he constructed under the mentorship of master bow-maker Michael Vann — was helped in part by growing up in a musical family. All five children are musicians, and some of Pierre’s earliest performances as a child took place onstage with his triplet brothers, Louis and Daniel, sister Julie and oldest brother Raymond.

Adept at musical improvisation, Pierre also demonstrated this skill with guitarist Clark as they invented a song onstage, taking the audience on an obstacle course of their musical prowess and dexterity, shifting genre from a ballad-like deconstructed reel to an Irish jig to a gypsy swing piece, mixing time signatures and styles to end with a completely different sound than where they started.

This ability to compose on the spot likely contributed to the duo’s decision to name their 2002 album Heat Of The Moment, quipped Clark.

The show built to an emotional crescendo with the performance of “New Canadian Waltz,” which Pierre wrote in 1994 as a fresh take on the old-time fiddle classics that were a staple of Ontario fiddle championships at the time. However, when he introduced it at what ended up being his last fiddle contest, it didn’t win.

Pierre’s father recently recalled this loss, saying it was “too bad, because it’s a good waltz,” and then added, “you know, all the young players are playing with it now and winning?”

After the laughter died down, the crowd fell into a silent reverie as he began to play it, myself included. “New Canadian Waltz” pulls together influences from Cape Breton, Irish, Scottish, American and Canadian fiddle styles to form a delicate and emotive piece that feels bright and new but simultaneously old-fashioned and nostalgic.

It took me back to the days when I would play it on repeat while rocking my baby to sleep — who is now 20 years old — during those long nights that seemed both eternal and yet so fleeting.

So yes, Pierre Schryer did make us cry. But he also made us laugh and cheer and stomp our feet. And for a moment, on that Saturday afternoon as the fall sun shone golden through the church windows, he made us all feel a little bit less alone.