Keeping the Circle Musical

Jam Etiquette, Leadership, and the Reality of Big Jams

If you’ve spent any time around bluegrass jams lately, you’ve probably noticed the circles are getting bigger. What used to be a handful of players gathered around a picnic table can now turn into twenty or more musicians packed into a corner of a brewery or festival campground. Fiddles double, guitars stack up, banjos multiply, and suddenly it’s hard to hear where the beat is, let alone know who’s taking the next break. When that happens, the jam doesn’t just get louder.  The whole communication system breaks down.

As someone who both hosts open jams and shows up as a regular jammer, I’ve been wrestling with this. I love the social side of these gatherings, the camaraderie, the shared tunes, the feeling that everyone belongs. But I also care deeply about the music itself, about keeping jams sounding true to the spirit of bluegrass, supportive, and fun to play in.

When I started thinking about jam etiquette and leadership in this time of ever-growing open jams, there was really only one person I wanted to talk to: Pete Wernick.

Pete has been shaping bluegrass jam culture for decades, not just through his playing with Hot Rize, but through his teaching, writing, and the Wernick Method itself. Many of us, myself included, are still leaning on lessons we absorbed from Pete years ago about listening, supporting the group, and treating a jam like a musical conversation rather than a competition.

I asked Pete to talk with me about what makes jams work, what causes them to break down, and what both players and jam hosts can do when the circle starts getting big.

What a Good Jam Feels Like

I started by asking Pete what he looks for when he walks into a jam that’s really working. “Appropriate backup with respect for the singing, and good rhythm,” he said right away.

“Good dynamics. And full participation of everyone, within their limits and knowing when to step forward, when to lay back, and even when to drop out entirely.”

From the outside, a good jam can look almost effortless. But when you listen closely, it’s built on dozens of small, considerate choices: players watching the singer, easing off during verses, locking into a shared beat, and letting the music include clarity and space. When those things are happening, nobody has to explain the rules. You just feel it.

Walking Into a New Jam: The Player’s Responsibility

One of the most common stress points in jam culture happens when someone new steps into an established circle. Sometimes that person is a true beginner. Other times they’re an experienced picker who just hasn’t played with this group before.

Pete’s advice for those first couple of songs is refreshingly simple. “Be sure to make the chord changes,” he said. “Be in tune. Keep good rhythm. Mind your volume.” In other words, don’t try to impress anyone right away. Try to fit in.

I think of this as earning trust. When you walk into a new jam, your first job is to show the group that you’re listening and that you care about the song and the group as a whole.

Pete summed it up with one of those lines that sticks with you: “Of all the things you know how to do, play what helps the music the most.”

That idea might be the single best piece of jam etiquette advice there is. Pete also quoted a drummer who does recording sessions in Los Angeles: “I just play the next thing I want to hear."

When Jams Get Big: Music vs. Social Benefits

Almost every open jam eventually runs into the same reality. It gets bigger. When I asked Pete about common breakdowns in large jams, he didn’t sugarcoat it. “There are a lot of possible problems,” he said. “Egos, inexperience, nerves when the group gets bigger. Singers have to holler to be heard, which can strain and even damage their voices. Large jams should divide and go to separate places if possible.”

When that’s not possible, Pete laid out a hierarchy of solutions: concentric circles, with more experienced players in the middle; quieter playing in the outer circles. It’s awkward but can be most satisfactory to take turns, with some folks just sitting out for a while. It’s a generous thing to do, even if you’re eager to play. It gets respect.

To make the point, he offered an analogy that’s hard to forget. “It’s like twenty-four people showing up to play basketball on a single court,” he said. “You don’t suddenly play twelve on twelve just because twenty-four people showed up. You still play five on five, and you rotate people in.”

Pete’s perspective is grounded in a shared understanding of what a bluegrass jam is at its core: a small acoustic circle using a common rhythmic and harmonic language. That shared language is how he’s been able to teach and jam with thousands of musicians, including players in faraway places like Russia and Japan, even without sharing a spoken language.  Over time, that musical language naturally turns into a set of shared expectations about how the music works, how people listen, support each other, and take turns. Those expectations don’t disappear just because a jam gets bigger.

The Social Aspect

I kept coming back to something I often see as a jam host: people keep showing up not just for the music, but for the people. Even when the playing gets messy, the circle keeps growing. That tension, between musical clarity and social enjoyment, kept surfacing in my conversation with Pete, and it’s one I’ve been trying to understand in my own jamming community.

Pete pointed out that the same thing can happen on stage. When a whole crowd of pro musicians does a big final encore, the energy can be wonderful, but the music itself often slows down and gets less precise and interactive. That doesn’t mean the moment isn’t meaningful. It just means it’s serving a different purpose.

Pete is clear about what large jams can and can’t do musically. Where I find myself lingering is in the tension. How do we acknowledge the social value of big jams while not sounding as good as a tight five-person circle?

Naming that tradeoff honestly may be the first step toward healthier expectations all around.

A Useful Way to Think About Big Jams - This author’s perspective

Here is my own way of making peace with what big jams are good at, and what they aren’t.

As Pete and I talked, I kept circling back to a distinction that’s helped me make sense of what I see week after week as both a jammer and a jam host.

Community bluegrass jamming serves two overlapping purposes. One is musical: good content, timing, dynamics, interactions, and the satisfaction of  a group of people listening closely and sounding good together. The other is social: friendship, belonging, shared experience, and the simple joy of being in an enjoyable circle with people you know, or maybe just met.

In smaller jams, usually four to eight players, those two things tend to reinforce each other. The music stays strong, and the social side deepens the experience instead of distracting from it. In large open jams, especially ones with fifteen or more players, the balance shifts. Musical quality inevitably declines, not because anyone is doing anything wrong, but because too many instruments are trying to occupy the same sonic space, making it harder to hear the beat, the singer, and each other.

At the same time, the social energy can be tremendous. These are often the jams people keep showing up for, largely because so many friends are there. Another reality I’ve had to accept is that large, open jams are inherently inconsistent from week to week. With new players constantly cycling through, the musical outcome will vary, making clear communication and leadership even more important.

Pete’s teaching focuses unapologetically on the musical side. Clear rules, shared expectations, appropriate backup, good rhythm, and knowing when to divide into smaller groups are all ways of protecting the music. In Wernick Method classes, no jam circle is larger than eight, and usually five or six. Trained coaches are assigned to each circle and not only keep things on track, they offer both praise and constructive suggestions about making the music sound better.

I’ve found it useful to name the tradeoff out loud: large jams are doing a different job than small ones, with social connection often taking precedence over musical quality.

Good leadership includes helping everyone understand what kind of experience they’re stepping into. Sometimes the right move is to enjoy the big circle for what it offers socially, and sometimes it’s better to split into smaller groups for deeper musical connection. In larger groups, the jam host often has to set the tone and basic expectations: how songs are passed, how communication works, how to stay inclusive, and how to keep the music, not conversation, at the center. Healthy jam culture depends on both good music and good social energy. 

Pete’s contribution, through decades of teaching and thinking about this, is giving people the tools and language to for best results both musically and socially.   When I keep the dual goals in mind, I find I have more patience, and jams tend to feel better to me, even when they’re big.

The Job of an Open Jam Host

When jams get big, leadership matters more., For Pete, the job of a jam host starts with clarity. “Put up a large sign with ground rules where everyone can see it,” he said. “Tell all new people to read it. If anyone, even the most skilled player there, breaks a ground rule, anyone should feel it’s OK to ask the person to check out the sign.”

Pete acknowledges that many jams happen in bars, breweries, festival campsites, or other places where posting a sign isn’t realistic. The deeper point is clarity. The jam host can do everyone a favor by making the norms explicit rather than hoping people will absorb them by osmosis.

If someone breaks a rule, the host’s job is to intervene, but thoughtfully. Pete suggests private corrections if possible. In Wernick Method classes, a jam coach may speak quietly and briefly to a participant without interrupting the jam. In some cases a separate private conversation may be needed.

He shared a story from his own early years that clearly left an impression. As a young player, he was once approached during a jam and told privately that his playing was throwing things off, and was asked not to play. The person didn’t shame him, didn’t make a scene, and didn’t even know him personally. “It was a model of discreet behavior to save the jam session,” Pete said. “I learned that lesson well.”

That story matters, especially when jam hosts are hesitant to say anything at all. Correction doesn’t have to be harsh to be effective. And when someone repeatedly ignores the norms, Pete believes hosts have a responsibility to intervene directly but sensitively, to protect the experience for everyone else in the circle.

As someone who’s led plenty of jams myself, I know how uncomfortable this can be. You want people to feel welcome. You don’t want to be the “jam police.” But avoiding leadership altogether doesn’t actually help anyone, especially newer players who often need guidance.

Advice for Experienced Pickers in Big Circles

One of the most honest parts of our conversation came when I asked Pete what more experienced players should do when they find themselves in a large, unwieldy jam.

His answer was blunt but kind. “Don’t expect the music to be good,” he said. “If you stay, go lightly. Act exemplary and pleasant. Be as nice as possible.”

That’s hard advice to hear, especially for players who care deeply about musical quality. But it’s also a reminder that influence doesn’t always come from taking the best break in the circle. Sometimes it comes from modeling good rhythm, good volume, and good attitude.

And sometimes, as Pete pointed out, the best solution is to plan a smaller jam somewhere else and let the big one be what it is. That might mean proactively curating your own circle with people you enjoy playing with, possibly at another time and place.

This is where jam etiquette stops being about rules and starts being about maturity.

Pete also shared how he has navigated big festival jams himself, including events like Midwinter. Rather than jumping into jams soon after the evening music winds down, he’ll sit and visit while the biggest groups are still jamming. “Then around one or two in the morning,” he said, “when some people start heading to bed, I wait for the crowd to thin out and see if I can get into a jam where I’m the only banjo player, with folks I really want to pick with. That can be well worth the wait, and I’m happy to socialize while waiting.”

Fueled by good bourbon and a caffeinated drink, Pete has been known to stay up all night making high-quality music in those smaller, late-hour circles. For him, it’s another example of letting the big jams be social, while quietly creating space for deeper musical connection.

Why Pete Does This Work

Before we wrapped up, I asked Pete a few questions that were less about jam mechanics and more about him.

He talked about John Hartford’s advice: “Do what you love. Then even if it doesn’t work out, you haven’t wasted your time.”

What struck me is that Pete doesn’t just talk about jam etiquette as an idea. He operationalizes it in real time. In camps and jams, he’s known for coaching quietly while the music continues, offering a specific, actionable suggestion without stopping the flow or embarrassing anyone. It’s leadership that preserves both dignity and momentum, and it reflects how seriously he takes the responsibility of keeping a circle musical.

Pete also reflected on a choice he made early on, that shaped his growth in the bluegrass world: learning to sing baritone. Bluegrass trio harmony, he said, needs someone to sing the baritone part — often the hardest to hear and execute well. But once he taught himself the skill more opportunities came his way. “If you do things that make you valuable,” he said, “people want to play with you.”

It was a reminder that jam knowhow isn’t just about what to do or not to do. It’s also about developing skills that make the music better. That might include good song leading, remembering words of good songs, and doing appropriate fills and backup.

After Hot Rize disbanded, teaching became not just a way to make a living, but a source of deep satisfaction. With all of Pete’s success as a performer with Hot Rize and other bands, along with his books, videos, and decades of teaching, he could easily have stayed focused on his own playing. Instead, much of his energy over the years has gone into helping other people learn how to play together.

When I asked what the next chapter looks like, his answer was characteristically ambitious and generous. “My plan is to make the Wernick Method the Suzuki of bluegrass.”

What he meant wasn’t a rigid system, but a shared language. A way for people, regardless of age or background, to learn how to play with others early on rather than waiting years before trying to participate in a jam. Though that can be intimidating, showing up, observing, asking questions and learning is the best and quickest way of getting your “jamming wings”. Pete’s Wernick Method is designed to compact that process into a single 15 or 20 hour class or camp. In Pete’s view, strong jam culture can evolve by trial and error but the result comes faster when it’s taught efficiently, modeled, and passed along.

He also spoke about adjusting expectations over time and focusing more on musical satisfaction than comparison, a perspective that clearly informs how he approaches both teaching and music-making today. “Music needn’t be fast or difficult or complicated to be highly satisfying. It just has to sound good.”

Bringing It Back to the Circle

Pete will be hosting a jam workshop at the Midwinter Bluegrass Festival, and the timing couldn’t be better. If you preregister at LetsPick.org, Pete will email you the Wernick Method Student Prep Guide ahead of the workshop. The workshop is free to Midwinter attendees, and true to form, he’ll have you jamming and playing real bluegrass in minutes. After a brief full-group session, participants will break into smaller jam circles, each guided by a Wernick Method coach.

The workshop reflects Pete’s teaching philosophy in action: gentle tempos, songs and keys chosen to fit the group, clear ground rules, and a welcoming expectation that mistakes are part of learning. “What I hope people take away,” he said, “is the sense that they really can do this — how to follow chord changes, keep rhythm, manage volume, and know when to come in and when to end. We’ll play bluegrass standards and work on both solos and backup so everyone can participate confidently.”

Then he offered one last piece of advice for anyone walking into a jam. “Besides being in tune,” he said, “be ready to sing and lead a bluegrass song that’s likable and easy to follow.”

He compared it to a potluck. Showing up prepared, he said, is like bringing something good to share. Showing up without a song to lead is like bringing only a fork.  Jam etiquette, in the end, is about care. Care for the music, for the people in the circle, and for the balance between the two.

If you’re a jam host, that could mean bringing clear leadership expectations to your next jam. If you’re a jammer, it might mean bringing one song you can lead confidently and musically.

And in a world where open jams keep getting bigger, that balance matters more than ever.

If you’re interested in learning more about Pete Wernick or the Wernick Method, you can find additional resources here:

The Wernick Method: LetsPick.org      

Dr. Banjo: https://drbanjo.com

If you’re interested in open bluegrass jams along the Front Range, you can find additional resources at CBMS:

·       https://www.coloradobluegrass.org/jamlisting