Some musicians’ identities are inseparable from their instruments. Think Billy Joel and the piano, Ravi Shankar and the sitar, Eddie Van Halen and the guitar — it’s hard to picture one without the other.
There are few players more associated with the mandolin than Chris Thile. A founding member of progressive bluegrass bands Nickel Creek and Punch Brothers, Thile has long been hailed as a virtuoso on the instrument. The fearless, genre-crushing musician and composer has a long, eclectic body of work that places him among the best to ever pick up the instrument. He’s repeatedly shown that he can adapt to just about any sonic terrain, collaborating with everyone from Béla Fleck to Yo-Yo Ma to Fiona Apple.
On his latest record, Bach: Sonatas & Partitas, Vol. 2, Thile has again jumped bluegrass barriers and landed in the classical lane. Released last November on Nonesuch Records, the album finds Thile interpreting the baroque master Johann Sebastian Bach, and not for the first time: He dropped Vol. 1 in 2013.
Ahead of his performance at the Flynn Main Stage in Burlington on Wednesday, April 1, Thile spoke with Seven Days from a coffee shop in Berkeley, Calif., about playing Bach on mandolin and learning to let himself improvise with the work of the masters.
You’re taking Bach works that were specifically written for violin, and you’re performing them on mandolin. Does the mandolin lend itself naturally to Bach and classical music in general?
The Bach thing sort of transcends any traditionally held stylistic boundaries. You have a musician whose accomplishment was so vast and deep that he’s kind of alone in this position — we can all agree on Bach; he was probably the greatest musician to ever live. And he was writing at a time when things were a little less instrument-specific. He was very casual about moving things from one instrument to another.
So if a bluegrass musician wanted to interpolate a classical composer’s work, it’s hard to find a better source than Bach?
There is violin repertoire that is so violin-specific that it would sound ridiculous to try and play it on the mandolin. But that’s not the case with Bach’s solo music for violin. It’s a treasure trove of musical thought on an instrument tuned in fifths, which the mandolin is as well. So there’s no transcription necessary; I can play them note for note. I don’t always do that, but that’s by choice, not necessity.
Speaking of that, this latest edition of Bach music is a departure from the first volume, in that you’re taking more liberties with the music, correct? It seems like there’s a little more of you in there this time around.
Yeah, the first round of this I played the mandolin pretty straight. It felt sincere and exciting, and I’m still very proud of that record. But taking that approach this time didn’t feel right; it just didn’t sound like me when I’d listen back to the tracks, like I was wearing a wig or something.
The instrument I’m playing here, it’s like the timbre of my voice — not as important as what I’m actually saying. The dialect and accent I “speak” with on the mandolin — the slang and idioms that come out of my instrument — sound like a homeschooled kid from Southern California who moved to Kentucky when he was 14. So the record is more about my relationship with the music than it is about my relationship with the mandolin.
Was it daunting to improvise with Bach? I could see classical fans squinting in rage during a mandolin solo, like the story of Pete Seeger booing Bob Dylan at the Newport Folk Festival in the ’60s.
Such is our reverence for Bach that it can feel blasphemous to engage in the same back-and-forth that you would with any other piece of music in the world. But I think we have to get over that — he’s still just a guy, you know? Maybe he’s the greatest of all time, but if your sense of music is sort of whispering to you, Try this!, then freaking try it and see if you like it.
If your sense of music is sort of whispering to you, Try this!, then freaking try it.
Chris thile
I wasn’t allowing myself to be in the process at first, and I was ending up with stuff that I didn’t believe in as a result. I had to let myself back into the process the same way I would if I was covering a Bill Monroe song or a Radiohead song. As a musician, all you’ve got is your own sense of taste. You don’t know what Bach wanted. When he died, he was most known for being a good organ repairman! You have no idea how it will all turn out. You owe it to your audience and yourself to expose all of this music to your own sense of taste.
You’re mixing in your own material along with the Bach compositions on this tour. Is it challenging to weave in your own work with his?
It can be hard to make the setlist, for sure. I find myself reflexively putting my own material before any of the Bach stuff. But a life spent loving Bach will result in showing those influences, and I commune with his work on a daily basis. It’s like yoga for me, in a way. I’m not saying my music is anywhere near as good, but it is heavily influenced by my love of Bach.
Those not familiar with your earlier volume of Bach music might be surprised to see you tackle classical. Are you worried your fans might see that the show at the Flynn is on April Fools’ Day and think you’re actually going to drop a set of Black Sabbath on the mandolin?
Oh, man, it is on April Fools’ Day! [Laughing.] Don’t worry, Burlington, I’m actually coming; it’s not a prank. Maybe I should get weird with the set? Either way, I can’t wait to get back to Burlington. It’s one of my favorite places to make music in the world. The community there is incredible: It’s a musical place, and it’s a musical bunch of people. ➆
This interview was edited for clarity and length.
This article appears in March 25 • 2026.
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