If one were blind and listening to Ben Sollee play "How To See the Sunrise," the sounds emanating from the cello would be the next best thing.
And after the sun was up, his voice would bring you the warmth of that sun.
With his music, Ben Sollee says he wants people to experience "all the beauty and banality that life has to offer."
On a cross-country tour "imploring folks to rediscover the connections between music, art, film dance, their community and personal relationships," Sollee will stop in Sun Valley on Friday, Dec. 9, at the Sun Valley Opera House.
But don't go expecting a classical concert—this musician is known for his intensity on the instrument and for incorporating banjo, guitar, percussion and unusual cello techniques to create a unique mix of folk, bluegrass, jazz and R&B.
His engaging 2008 debut album, "Learning To Bend," caught the ear of NPR's Morning Edition, which heralded Sollee as one of the "Top Ten Great Unknown Artists of 2007."
Self-described as "classically trained and congenitally restless," Sollee and his band took their show on the road on bicycles in a Ditch the Van Tour in 2010. His newest album, "Inclusions," was released this spring.
He explains his fourth tour on his website, www.bensollee.com, like this:
"Ben Sollee and his band travel exclusively using bicycles and transportation, instruments and all! Again, this choice is not a novelty or a nod to the green trend. Apropos to his overarching story, Sollee's goal is to gain a deeper connection his fans and surrounding communities."
Kentuckian Sollee says he feels that "this is an unparalleled opportunity to slow things down and take in the scenery, meet new people, and experience the vastness of culture and environs most travelers bypass completely."
"Beyond just performance, Ditch The Van offers an educational experience for all who wish to participate; a rare chance to explore cities, communities and people, and how all parties influence each other."
Sollee has suspended the bicycle aspect of the tour with the onset of winter in these parts, but he will be in residence at the Sun Valley Center for the Arts, which will allow him to commune with fellow thinkers and future peers.
He emailed these answers to a few questions sent to him while on the road:
Q) What's the most incorrect description of yourself/music that you've ever read?
A) I believe the phrase "traditional pop-folk" was used to describe my music once. Not sure it's completely incorrect, I just have no idea what it means.
Q) At what point did you decide that your congenital restlessness could be channeled into music?
A) Not sure. I was always restless playing music. However, I will say that when I realized that music might provide the opportunity for me to make an honest living without stepping on someone else's back, I thought it might be worth a shot.
Q) One myth about cello players that you feel compelled to bust?
A) Nah, not really. Maybe only that there is no cut thing as the way to play the cello, regardless of what anyone tells you, including me.
Q) If you were trying to explain your music to someone whose senses were limited to things that he or she could touch, what would that person feel? (You are telling them using a Braille note of course.)
A) I'd tell them to take off their shoes and listen through their feet. It feels like most living things: It has a pulse, sometimes it gently hums and sometimes shakes. No, if I were aiming to translate the sound of my music to the feel of some physical thing, I'd say it's like a well-broken-in catcher's mitt.
Q) If someone had all their senses but no access to you, what would you tell them in order to encourage them to come hear you play?
A) That's such a lovely question, and I have no idea how to answer. Try anything once?
Q) How far did you actually tour on bicycle and how did you keep from being sideswiped with your wide and precious load?
A) We've been riding around 2,700 miles on our bikes over the last three years. We always ride safe and obey the same rules as all the other vehicles on the road. Beyond that, we try to look like we're having a great time. That slows people down more than anything. But it is a bit of a test to keep a smile on one's face when a three-thousand-pound machine comes within six inches of you.