What: Rob Ickes & Trey Hensley and Frank Solivan & Dirty Kitchen

When: 7 p.m. Thursday

Where: The Belfry, 302 E. Main Ave., Sisters

Cost: Sold out (depending on space, tickets may be available at the door for $22.50 or $15 for ages 18 and younger)

Contact: sistersfolkfestival.org, belfryevents.com or ­541-549-4979

If you want to know Frank Solivan’s philosophy on playing bluegrass music, get a hold of one of his band’s T-shirts.

The shirt in question features an umbrella logo with the band name, Frank Solivan & Dirty Kitchen, and the word “allgrass.” Underneath the umbrella is a list of musical genres.

“There’s mashgrass, there’s Appalachian, old-time, country, new acoustic, newgrass, jamgrass, so on and so forth,” Solivan said recently from a tour stop in Bakersfield, California. “So all these different styles that people categorize as bluegrass — I like to call it ‘allgrass.’ And onstage I’ve been saying lately — and I heard this from somebody, a friend of mine — he says, ‘Bluegrass is in the eye of the beholder.’”

Clearly, the California native, mandolin player and U.S. Navy veteran, who will play The Belfry with Dirty Kitchen on Thursday alongside Rob Ickes and Trey Hensley, isn’t a stickler for bluegrass tradition. He grew up listening to the giants of the genre — Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs, Bill Monroe, The Osborne Brothers — but as he was quick to point out, those guys were always pushing the boundaries of their music, too.

“The Osborne Brothers, they had a drummer — I was just listening to something yesterday where they had a drummer and a pedal steel and an electric bass player, and they were plugging in the mandolin and the banjo and they were trying to have this big country sound because they knew that was a broader audience,” he said. “I feel like all those guys were always trying to get that and were innovators, and I feel like that is part of the tradition of bluegrass music, too. It’s not just the old sounds where we all cut our teeth. You can’t mess that up; you can’t do it any better, either.”

The “allgrass” philosophy is on full display on “If You Can’t Stand the Heat,” Solivan’s fourth album with Dirty Kitchen and first with the band in nearly five years, since 2014’s Grammy-nominated “Cold Spell.” Original material sits alongside traditional songs such as “Lena” and the band’s cover of Steely Dan’s “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number,” while the string-band instrumentation at times leans into jazz improvisation or country picking.

The Belfry show, a bluegrass showcase put on by Sisters Folk Festival and Sisters-based instrument maker Preston Thompson Guitars, will be Solivan and Dirty Kitchen’s first Central Oregon show since 2016. The band — also featuring banjoist Mike Munford, stand-up bassist Jeremy Middleton and guitarist Chris Luquette — is a veteran of the festival, as are Ickes and Hensley, who may also participate in the show-opening guitar demonstration.

Ickes features on all of Solivan’s studio albums dating back to his 2002 solo debut, “I am a Rambler,” and Hensley is a friend, too. As with any bluegrass (or allgrass, to use Solivan’s preferred term) bill, the Sisters show will feature plenty of jamming from the groups, together and separately.

“What we have been doing, at least on the last couple of runs we’ve done (together), we have a big clusterpluck, gang-twang thing at the end where everybody’s onstage and we just have a big old time,” Solivan said.

Solivan grew up surrounded by music of all genres. His father was one of 10 kids who played music, while his grandmother played mandolin and violin with her older siblings and father; his mother, now deceased, came from a family of concert violinists and cellists.

“I was told stories of (my dad’s mom and her family) riding unicycles and doing choreographed routines and little jumps and things, all the while playing and singing,” Solivan said. “… (My parents) would take me to concerts — go to see Ray Charles or Stevie Wonder or Tower of Power or The Judds or whatever. I saw the concerts growing up, and at the time when you’re a kid and going through all that, you just think it’s … just what you do, but looking back on it, it definitely helped cut a path for me.”

His first instrument was violin, and he spent middle and high school playing with the orchestra, ending up at the University of Alaska Anchorage to study violin performance. He also played guitar at the time, but he didn’t pick up mandolin seriously until around age 19 or 20.

“A friend I was playing music with (Ginger Boatwright) said, ‘Do you play mandolin?’” Solivan said. “I said, ‘Oh yeah,’ just kind of in jest. I was like, ‘Oh yeah, it’s like my main instrument.’ I think it was kind of foreshadowing a little bit, because it turned into that.”

His musical fortunes changed again in 2003 when he heard about an audition for an electric guitarist in the U.S. Navy Band’s country ensemble, Country Current, after meeting the band at the Anchorage Folk Festival one year.

“They said, ‘Do you play electric guitar?’ and I was like, ‘Eh, not really,’” Solivan said. “‘Well, let me ask that again: Do you play electric guitar?’ Like, here’s your hint; go and get an electric guitar basically; we have an audition coming up and then that’s a great job. And I was like, huh, OK. So I went and bought an electric guitar.”

Solivan went to boot camp, landed the electric guitarist job and would eventually become the band’s musical director. He also played mandolin and fiddle with the Navy’s bluegrass band at the same time, but soon got the itch to start writing and playing his own music. Dirty Kitchen formed around 2009, soon after Solivan left the Navy.

“If You Can’t Stand the Heat,” produced by banjoist and Compass Records (Dirty Kitchen’s label) co-founder Alison Brown, brings all of Solivan’s many influences over the years together. But it’s all about the band’s live show for Solivan, who called the new album “just another slice of time” in the band’s evolution.

“It’s different when you’re playing and then you’ve got people in the audience responding to you, and then that feeds us more and we just play better, and then the audience responds to that,” he said. “It becomes a cyclical kind of mass psychosis. Those are the perfect moments that musicians search for.”