Kelsey Waldon, ‘Dirty Old Town’

Kelsey Waldon has had a hands-on insight into classic country since she moved to Nashville, supplementing her formidable debut, The Gold Mine, with van tours and honky-tonk shows, as well as a different kind of education with a gig behind the bar. On her sophomore full-length, I've Got A Way, the Kentucky native further proves she does have a way — with introspective lyrics and a delivery that somehow turns heartbreak into a soundtrack fit for long drives in the country or a late night on the porch.

The album's opening track, "Dirty Old Town," is an early standout for its spry tempo and the way it expands upon the coal town commentary that made The Gold Mine such an ear-catching first release. From the very first riff, "Dirty Old Town" sets the tone for I've Got A Way by ushering in the record's heroine with a healthy dose of side-eye to small town life and a self-deprecating, endlessly relatable nod to the fact that you can know the flaws of a place — or a memory, relationship, or, hell, a grudge — without necessarily letting it go. Waldon has quickly established herself as one of Nashville's rising class of artists carrying the torch for no-frills classic country, and that's particularly evident in the instrumentation on this cut: Prominent pedal steel and swift finger-picking provide the optimum backdrop for Waldon's thick, sweet drawl. The song may stick to country's most recognizable characteristics, but it's a well-placed introduction to this record of foot-tapping highs and gut-wrenching lows.

Traveler: Your Guide to Unique Music Museums

When it comes to visiting music museums, there are the usual suspects: The Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, the Birthplace of Country Music Museum, the Grammy Museum, and the International Bluegrass Music Museum. While they are definitely fine institutions, there are also a number of lesser-known collections that are slightly off the beaten path but worth discovering.

Woody Guthrie Folk Music Center

Photo courtesy of the Woody Guthrie Folk Music Center

Though Pampa is a small town in the Texas Panhandle, far from the state’s music centers, it holds an important spot in American music history because it is the place that Woody Guthrie moved to as a teenager and where he got in his first guitar. In 1991, several community leaders created the Woody Guthrie Folk Music Center, which is located in the old Harris Drug Store where Guthrie worked as a youth. While not as fancy as Tulsa’s recently opened Woody Guthrie Center, Pampa’s museum — currently open by appointment only — has a homespun charm that reflects Guthrie’s common man values. On display are Guthrie-related newspaper articles, old photos, and even an over-sized version of his “This Guitar Kills Fascists” guitar. Michael Sinks, the Center’s director, says Nora Guthrie is working on an exhibit for them. They also promote Guthrie’s legacy through public song circles on Friday nights and an annual concert in October (to mark Woody’s passing) that cowboy balladeer Don Edwards is headlining this year.

Woody Guthrie Folk Music Center
320 S. Cuyler, Pampa, TX, 79065
Free admission; donations welcome
Open by appointment only. Call 806-664-0824 or email [email protected]

The Bluegrass Bus Museum

Photo courtesy of Danny Clark

After seeing Flatt & Scruggs perform on the Beverly Hillbillies, a young Don Clark became a lifelong bluegrass fan and dreamed about having a Martha White touring bus like Flatt & Scruggs had. After buying a bus like the duo’s, Clark filled it with his various bluegrass and country mementos and created the Bluegrass Bus Museum in the early 1990s. When you step inside the bus, you’ll be walking on vintage Grand Ole Opry carpeting. Clark’s eclectic array of Americana includes Lester Flatt’s old mailbox sign, antique Martha White mic stands, and a Bill Monroe’s stage suit. A centerpiece is the bus door that is covered with autographs from hundreds of musicians. After years of traveling all across America, the aging bus now only hits the road 5-10 times a year around the Nashville area, where Clark and his son Danny now reside. If you want to check out the museum, you can contact Danny through their website to arrange a visit. He is also keeping bluegrass history alive by posting on their YouTube channel a number of archival live performances that his father videotaped at festivals back in the day.

Bluegrass Bus Museum
To make an appointment, email [email protected] or phone 615-497-6731

Fur Peace Ranch

Photo credit: Scotty Hall

Why can you find a treasure trove of memorabilia for Haight-Ashbury’s golden age some 2,000 miles from San Francisco in southeastern Ohio’s rural countryside? Because this is where is Jorma Kaukonen (of Jefferson Airplane and Hot Tuna fame) and his wife Vanessa have their Fur Peace Ranch. Their ranch is best known for its long-running guitar camp and popular concert series, but Jorma and Vanessa decided a few years ago to transform an old silo into a '60s-centric museum named the Psylodelic Gallery as a way to share the many items he saved — along with offering a personal look into that historic era. Kaukonen’s original Fillmore posters adorn the walls. The typewriter heard on his famous bootleg recording with Janis Joplin is on display, as are period outfits like the one his bandmate Jack Casady wore at Woodstock. The gallery also hosts temporary exhibits, with the most recent one presenting Jerry Garcia paintings. If that isn’t enough of a flashback for you, there’s a Brotherhood of Light-designed liquid light show to further enhance the '60s vibe.

Fur Peace Ranch
39495 St. Clair Rd., Pomeroy, Ohio 45769
1 pm – 5 pm, Wednesday-Friday and during concerts
Free admission; donations welcome

Stephen Foster Folk Culture Center State Park

Photo credit: John Fletcher

Way down along the Suwannee River is a natural place to find a memorial to the man who penned the famous lyric: “way down upon the Swanee River.” (He took spelling liberties to suit his melody.) Located about an hour west of Jacksonville, in White Springs, Florida, this museum salutes the Pennsylvania-born songwriter, who apparently never actually visited the Suwannee River. On view are eight original dioramas inspired by Foster’s songs, along with a number of 19th-century pianos, including the one that he played. It’s hard to miss another main attraction — the 97-tubular bell carillon tower that plays Foster’s music throughout the day. The park, which also serves as Florida's official folk culture center, hosts the annual Florida Folk Festival and the Stephen Foster Old-Time Music Weekend. Sadly, the replica paddle steamers no longer travel the river as they once did.

Stephen Foster Folk Culture Center
11016 Lillian Saunders Drive / US HWY 41 North
White Springs, FL 32096
Park is open from 8 am to sunset
Museum and Tower are open 9 am – 5 pm daily
Admission Fee: $5 per vehicle. Limit 2-8 people per vehicle.
$4 Single Occupant Vehicle.
386-397-4331 / 386-397-4408 for tours

U.S. 23 Country Music Highway Museum

Photo courtesy of Paintsville Tourism Commission

While U.S. Route 23 stretches nearly 1,500 miles from Michigan to Florida, it is the 150 or so miles that runs through eastern Kentucky that has contributed so much to the music world that it has been officially named “The Country Music Highway.” Loretta Lynn, Tom T. Hall, Ricky Skaggs, the Judds, Billy Ray Cyrus, Dwight Yoakam, and Chris Stapleton — who have all called this area home — are among those honored at the U.S. 23 Country Music Highway Museum in Paintsville, Kentucky. Each of the 13 inductees have their individual exhibit, displaying personal items, such as a couple of Loretta dresses, a vintage Skaggs guitar, and a pair of Stapleton’s boots. As Paintsville’s executive director of tourism, Jeremiah Parsons, notes, all of these performers haven’t been afraid to be different and create their own unique style. If you visit on a Thursday, stick around for their Front Porch Picking night; maybe some of the region’s musical magic will rub off on you.

US 23 Country Music Highway Museum‬
100 Stave Branch Road, Paintsville, KY 41256
9 am – 5 pm Monday-Saturday; 12:30 pm – 5 pm Sunday
Admission: $4
606-297-1469‬

The Big House

Photo courtesy of the Big House Museum

Mention “The Big House” in Macon, Georgia, and it means only one thing — the place where the Allman Brothers called home in the early ‘70s as they rose to stardom. In 2009, the old Grand Tudor mansion opened as the Allman Brothers Band Museum. Visiting it is like walking through the coolest music-themed house ever. Some rooms, like Duane’s Room and the “Casbah” Music Room, resemble how they looked when the band lived there. The Living Room and Old Dining Room, meanwhile, now present a wealth of Allman artifacts — Where else will you see Cher and Gregg Allman’s pool table? — and the walk-in closet is lined with posters and photos instead of clothes. The “Fillmore East Room,” where the group used to jam, is stocked quite appropriately with their old instruments. There’s even a room that salutes their roadies! Besides its central role in Allman Brothers history, the Big House also is where latter-day Allmans Warren Haynes and Allen Woody lived in 1994 when they put together their own band Gov’t Mule.

The Big House Museum
2321 Vineville Ave, Macon, GA 31204
11 am – 6 pm Thursday through Sunday
Admission: $10 adults, $4 children 3-10
478-741-5551


Lede photo courtesy of the Big House Museum

International Bluegrass Music Museum Expands Facility, Vision

The International Bluegrass Music Museum and Hall of Fame in Owensboro, Kentucky, has long served as a home base for the bluegrass community. Founded in 1991 and occupying its current location on Owensboro's riverfront since 2002, the center has — through unique programming, a commitment to preserving bluegrass history, and an emphasis on live music — established itself as the go-to destination for bluegrass fans and players alike. 

Chris Joslin, the newly appointed (in Summer of 2015) IBMM Executive Director, is currently overseeing one of the center's most exciting projects yet: expanding its existing facility to further serve bluegrass past, present, and future.

"There’s all this momentum building," Joslin says of the impending construction. "The timing is good because Owensboro, about five years ago, launched a really aggressive redevelopment of their downtown to really leverage their riverfront here on the Ohio River. So there was a lot of city and state investment. What was once just an eroding riverbank has now been transformed into five or six city blocks of cascading parks and fountains and outdoor music venues. It’s really amazing. All of that has been good news for Owensboro. I think Owensboro has always tried to take advantage of the Bluegrass Museum being here and branding the city on bluegrass."

The center, which is a 501(c)(3) organization, worked closely with city and state officials to raise funds for the expansion, which will include a new building, rooftop restaurant, additional exhibit space, and a 450-seat concert venue. The newly expanded facility will lend itself to greater educational efforts, larger historical artifact collections, and a more prominent home base for the center's annual music festival, ROMP, which takes place at nearby Yellow Creek Park.

The larger facility will also play a part in improving tourism in Owensboro, which is Kentucky's fourth-largest city and sits along the banks of the Ohio River.

"I think when it comes to a city of Owensboro’s size, I think with the Bluegrass Musuem and just bluegrass music, in general, people see it as more of a linchpin to generating news for the city and driving tourism," Joslin says. "There’s certainly a lot that Owensboro has to offer, but just the energy of ROMP and the energy around the museum and the music is undeniable. I think the folks here in Owensboro recognize that and feel great about leveraging that and drawing a spotlight toward Owensboro and what we’re doing and what the city is doing to celebrate that and to nurture that."

In addition to collaborating with local governments, IBMM called upon some of its more famous friends to help spread the word about raising funds for the expansion. Artists like Del McCoury, Sam Bush, and Jerry Douglas pitched in to help the center reach its goals.

"I grew up playing, primarily, banjo and dobro and am still an active player; but the thing that I’ve always loved about people in music, even those who are at the top of the genre, is that they’re doing their own thing. They’re creating — they’re pushing the boundaries — but at the same time, they always feel a sense of connection to the bluegrass community. They always feel a sense of connection to the roots of the music," Joslin says of the center's famous friends.

While Joslin hasn't even been in his position at IBMM for a full year yet, he already has a long-term vision for the center that, at its core, is about preserving the legacy of the bluegrass community. 

"I think we have the opportunity to be, literally and figuratively, a permanent structure for bluegrass, the capital city of bluegrass that’s open 365 days a year, where the artifacts live, where the educational programs are developed, where the live music is nurtured year-round," he says. "My long-term vision is to be as relevant to the music community at large as the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame are. That’s really what we’re about, and we’re thinking big. It will be a fun journey to get there."

The center breaks ground on its new facility on June 23.

Wendell Berry and the Virtue of Hope: A Conversation with Filmmaker Laura Dunn

For legions of folks, Wendell Berry is far more than a writer and a farmer. He's also a hero, an icon, a role model. His plain-spoken, yet poetic way of moving through the world inspires those who seek to tread a similarly thoughtful path without leaving much in the way of footprints. Through his book writing and community building, Berry shares his message of heart, of healing, and of hope — a message that filmmaker Laura Dunn set out to capture and convey in her new documentary about Berry, The Seer.

You had an interesting challenge on your hands to paint a portrait of Wendell by sketching out his world and his view without ever filming him. Because his voice is there and his life is there, you almost don't notice that he's not actually there. Mission accomplished?

Yeah, oh yeah. That's great to hear. I've been doing documentary films for a while and I'm tired of the sort of sprawling issues piece. I was interested more in something personal, something intimate. I really wanted to do a portrait. That way you get to know a single person and piece together a bunch of different issues.

Wendell's my favorite writer — has long been — and I'd met him in the course of working on my last feature. I wanted to do something with his work. So I set out to do it that way, though I knew pretty early on that he was anti-screen, of all kinds. That certainly presents a challenge, but I like that challenge. It might make it less marketable, but that's not why I do films.

I mean, it'd be one thing if he didn't want to go on camera because he's shy or whatever. But his opinion about screens, I think is really interesting and provocative. He thinks they deaden the imagination, that they contribute to the decline in literacy. So I think not having him on screen actually reflects something essential about him, if that makes sense. I thought it was a good challenge because it actually forces you to open up your imagination and think in a different way … which is what Wendell does, through his writing.

Absolutely. The thing that steps up and takes his place is community. I feel like, whether it's online or on land, community is something that everyone craves and you put it at the heart of this film. So channel Wendell for me on the importance of community.

That's great. I think you totally picked up on the other reason why not having him visible is really significant.

He once said to me that our culture likes to idolize people, put people up on a pedestal. But it's not true. We are all just a function of those who are around us. I am defined by my family, my neighbors, my landscape. That is who I am.

There's a great quote in one of his awesome fiction books called The Memory of Old Jack. One of his most famous fictional characters is an old farmer named Burley Coulter and Burley says, “We are all of one another.” All of us. We are part of one another. I think that's essential to understanding Wendell's world view. If you look at the wood engraving image that comes up as the title card in the film, it's a picture of Wendell, but he's looking away from the camera. His coat and his body are made up of images from his place.

That's a huge part of it, too, and one of the other concepts that jumped out for me, as well … the idea of having intimacy with a place — really knowing the land and its inhabitants. That's such a huge part of Wendell's perspective and motivation.

Yeah.

Do you feel like that practice has been lost as folks have migrated into cities or can that still happen in urban settings? Can people have those sorts of relationships?

I hope so. It is a highly mobile society, though. I live in Austin. I moved here for grad school 15 years ago. It has changed dramatically. It was a sleepy college town when I came here and it has become a big, urban center. So I've seen that kind of displacement because there are so many people moving in here from elsewhere and that pushes the prices up and displaces all of the folks, like me, who can't afford to live here anymore. I think that mobility makes connecting to your place and putting down roots very difficult. It's financial or economic forces that are displacing us. So I think it's a real challenge.

However, I would say that I think the way Mary Berry talks in the film about taking a walk and showing your children how to look and see … and I think the example of Steve Smith, the farmer who reimagined his own farm and started a CSA — the first one of its kind in Kentucky — and paid off his farm … There are urban farms, there are all kinds of ways that one can connect to where he or she is. It doesn't have to be multiple generations on a single farm. [Laughs]

So I would answer your question both yes and no. I do think people can always find ways to root themselves and connect to their neighbors and their landscape and their kids. I think that's one of the beauties of Wendell's world view is that it shows you the large-scale problems, but the answer that he gives is always, “If there aren't large-scale solutions to large-scale problems, it's all about the small scale.” That's where you can have agency in your life and in your world. That, I find very empowering, for me personally.

Piggy-backing on that, there's the bit about mistaking small places for nowhere …

Exactly.

That is something I think we are all guilty of, if not individually, then collectively. But the lives lived in small places aren't a joke to be laughed at. I don't know if you'll agree, but it seems like this election season is highlighting that those people need to be taken very seriously.

Yeah. Isn't that fascinating? I agree. I'm from the South and I went to college in Connecticut. And I have this one foot in the documentary film world, but I also have the other foot as a stay-at-home mom with six boys in Texas. So I think that I'm well-aware of how these ideas are so polarized … the stereotypes of the South, the stereotypes of rural people. And the tyrannical political correctness of the documentary film world is very much of that ilk.

The Democrats think they are so enlightened, but there's a huge disconnect between urban and rural. That's, I think, one of Wendell's key messages. You can buy all the organic food you want at Whole Foods, but if you have a total disregard for the culture where that food is made, there's a degradation of the people, there's a degradation of the land, and ultimately, your consumption is not going to have any effect, if the economics are such that people think they can't farm.

There's a huge disconnect. Mary Berry said it wonderfully. She was at SXSW when we screened the film and she had a great quote about all the eco-consumers in Austin. She said as the demand for local and organic foods is going up, the number of farmers in the country is going down. She said that less than three-quarters of a percent of our population are farming. That is staggering.

So, yeah, there's a cultural divide there. And I agree: The election season is illustrating it, powerfully.

In the film, Wendell draws that line. It's populism versus capitalism which he frames as value over profit. When he draws the line all the way back to the source with “farming as art as life” … you can't separate those things. It's all Creation, no matter what your spiritual inclination might be. It's the political as the personal as the political. It all ties together.

Yeah. Truly! I love how you talk about it. That's encouraging to hear. I mean, I'm a Christian and Wendell's a Christian, but that doesn't necessarily mean that you're a right-wing propagandist. [Laughs] My politics are complicated and personal. I'm registered Independent because I can't attach myself to a formulaic world view. I was raised in a Christian family and I was taught those values, but there are many people who would hear me even say that and make a whole lot of assumptions about what a bad person I am. I'm so tired of those stereotypes. They are wrong and they have consequences. So, yeah, Wendell is definitely elevating the rural people.

I mean, I'm making a documentary and I know a bit about the documentary film world, which tends to lean left in a big way. I've always voted Democrat. It's not like I'm a card-carrying Republican, by any means. But I want there to be more complexity in politics. I say all that to say that the documentary film world, the powers-that-be in it are very attached to political correctness. I mean crazy attached. I thought, “What are they going to do with a film that looks lovingly at white, male, tobacco farmers from the South?” [Laughs] “What are they going to do?” It's been interesting. It's been embraced by some and shunned by others. I know that it provokes those politically correct radars in an anxious way.

[Laughs] The other idea that really struck me was the idea that making art equals making life, that you can look through a man's art and see him (or her). That must've resonated with you, as well, as a filmmaker.

Totally. Those of us — and I get the sense you're this way — who are trying to resist an industrial machine that tends to destroy everything we love, you try to find ways in your own life to do good work, to be inspired … to try to live a happy, good life against a lot of odds, these days. I think, for me, art is — and the Berrys reflect this — art is this beautiful way to work against the ugly things in the world. It isn't simply about a painting on the wall or a film.

Tanya Berry really elevates the domestic realm and imbues it with an artfulness. Like I said, I'm a full-time stay-at-home mom with six kids and part-time homeschool, yet I'm trying to be a filmmaker, too. There's often a sense of divide for me, personally. Tanya illustrates this. She elevates the domestic and shows that all aspects of life can be imbued with an artfulness because artfulness is, really, a way of seeing, a way of living. That, personally, helped me connect the different pieces of my life.

I don't have kids, but the whole thing about … when Mary's describing how they would make them look at things, make them appreciate things, and really engage them and their minds in thinking critically and with wonder. Gosh, if more parents engaged on that level, the world might have a chance.

I know what you mean. It's so crazy how our culture obscures all the most-basic things. You know? All this talk about education, but what about simply spending time with your kids and talking to them about what they see?

Or what they think or what they feel?

Right? Yeah. It's amazing how we obscure the most fundamental, natural paths, sometimes.

What was your biggest take-away from the project? What changed you? What has stuck with you?

Honestly, it was time with Tanya … kind of on a continuation of what we were just talking about. That's why the film goes there. It starts with Wendell and examines his fundamental, key arguments because I couldn't make a film about Wendell, in good conscience, without making classical arguments because that's what he would want. [Laughs] He wouldn't want it just to be an artsy-fartsy, feel-good piece. It has to have classical applications. So I knew I had to examine his ideas in that way.

But I think where we end up is with Tanya, mostly. I think there's a sense of hopefulness there. I think her connecting those dots for me, personally, between art and life was key.

And I think making environmental documentaries across the past 20 years can be very depressing. If you do the math, it's not looking so good, in terms of our natural resources — our fresh air, our clean water, our landscape … it's very depressing. At some point, I talked to Wendell about that and he said, “Of course you have to hope. Hope's a virtue. So we've got to find a way to have it.” I appreciate that because it challenges you. Like, “Quit sitting around whining. Find a way to create hopefulness in your own life. Make it happen.”

So, for me, personally, Tanya and Steve Smith, with his farm and CSA and the way he reimagined his landscape by looking for little glimmers of hope in his landscape, makes me want to find them in my own landscape and nurture them, grow them, rather than getting so overwhelmed with the looming specifics.

I'll be honest, I'm still going to do everything I can, because I believe in karma and I don't want this on me, but I think we're past the point of no return with the environment. It breaks my heart.

Yeah. Yeah.

If everyone had started doing everything they could 40 years ago, we wouldn't be here. But it hasn't happened.

It's amazing what we can do, when we want to. I think about us going to the moon and stuff. It's unbelievable what we can accomplish when we want to. I also think the resilience of nature is pretty freaking amazing. If we'd get out of the way, it can also heal itself pretty well. So I think there's good reason to despair, for sure.

But I know Wendell, through his work, points to the ugly in a very sobering way. It's hard. But, through the way he writes about things and talks about things, he shows the beauty there, and it's helpful, it's inspiring. So, hang on to that.


Photos courtesy of Laura Dunn and Wendell Berry

3×3: Dead Winter Carpenters on Kentucky Cabins, Diverse Cultures, and the Perfection of Neil Young

Artist: Jenni Charles (of Dead Winter Carpenters)
Hometown: Tahoe City, CA
Latest Album: Washoe
Rejected Band Names: Sandpaper Mitten

 

Thank you Reno Airport for being kind to @dainesly #freerubdowns #feelinit #firstflytour #dwctour

A photo posted by Dead Winter Carpenters (@deadwintercarpenters) on

If you had to live the life of a character in a song, which song would you choose?
“My Rose of Old Kentucky” by Bill Monroe. It’s the perfect love song, in the perfect setting — a cabin on the hill somewhere in the hills of gorgeous Kentucky and forever love! Doesn’t everyone want that?

Where would you most like to live or visit that you haven't yet?
I’ve traveled almost every bit of the U.S. with Dead Winter Carpenters and it has been one of the most rewarding experiences in my life. Going from places like Montana to New Orleans really gives you a special insight into the diverse cultures, lifestyles, and landscapes that this country has to offer. The more I travel, the more I fall in love with new areas. Two of my favorites that I could see living in would be the Blue Ridge Mountains or New England. The next place I want to visit is India.

What was the last thing that made you really mad?
I can’t remember! Forget and move on!

 

Almost to @terrapinxroads after a beautiful drive up #highway1 #california #bayarea #californiacoast

A photo posted by Dead Winter Carpenters (@deadwintercarpenters) on

What's the best concert you've ever attended?
Neil Young with Promise of the Real at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley, California. It was my first show at that venue and my second time seeing Neil Young. The other time was in Montreal, Quebec, and that was holding the “all time” before this one.

What was your favorite grade in school?
First Grade! Mrs. Bronzini was the absolute best teacher ever.

What are you reading right now?
Massacre on the Merrimack. I’m related to Hannah Duston, and this book is about her story, and I figured I should probably read up on my ancestor’s history.

Whiskey, water, or wine?
Whiskey

North or South?
North Lake Tahoe!

Pizza or tacos?
Tacos. Hot sauce. Yum.

Bluegrass Cocktails: Blue Moon of Kentucky

Bourbon is a no-brainer for any cocktail with “Kentucky” in its name, but this cocktail ups the whiskey ante with the addition of Scotch. Inspired by the blue moon (in part, the second full moon in a calendar month), the Blue Moon of Kentucky features two whiskeys in its recipe. The drink is soft and light from the frothy egg white (which you can skip, if it makes you squeamish), and the lavender brings out both whiskeys’ floral qualities. What’s more, the frothy egg white serves as a canvas for a little bitters “art” — perfect for wowing guests.

INGREDIENTS
1 oz bourbon
1 oz blended Scotch
3/4 oz lemon juice
3/4 oz lavender simple syrup
Egg white
Angostura bitters for garnish

Lavender Syrup
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 water
1 tbsp food-grade lavender flowers

DIRECTIONS
Heat water with lavender in a saucepan. Once the water reaches a near-boil, strain out lavender and add sugar. Stir the mixture until sugar is dissolved, and refrigerate. Add ingredients (except bitters) to shaker without ice. Shake vigorously for three seconds to emulsify egg white. Add ice and shake until cold, then strain into coupe glass. Garnish with bitters.