date: 2/10/00 - Thursday, Day 1
location: Cleveland, OH
Walking into the Sheraton next door to Cleveland's new convention center, you know immediately something's not quite right. There are no well-dressed business executives at the posh lobby bar. Instead, two guys playing djembe and rainstick have joined a group of women playing two guitars, an electric bass hooked up to a portable amp, a fiddle and an accordion. At the center, the pianist bangs out a rough, striding blues. The veneered tables, the plate glass windows, even the austere faux-marble walls, have been unceremoniously covered with fliers and posters of every description. They advertise thirty simultaneous musician showcases in ballrooms, conference rooms, guest suites and doubles throughout the hotel, starting at noon and going till 3am.
When I arrive in the late afternoon, Katryna and Nerissa Nields are just checking in, and Chuck Brodsky, recently returned from Israel, is in a celebratory mood with his NHL commemorative bordeaux, suspiciously empty (more pictures). I realize that I can't possibly see more than a fraction of the action, even if I manage to avoid spend half my time catching up with hundreds of old friends that I haven't seen in years. It's the annual conference of the National Folk Alliance.
I'm sorry to report, for instance, that I managed to miss last night's reception at the nearby Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, though I heard that the Mexican band was excellent. And I only caught a glimpse of Richie Havens playing a small showcase on the seventh floor. I passed Pete Seeger and Tom Paxton in the hall and let them go in peace. I'm in search of something else.
I'm looking for The Song.
And I find it. In a warren on the 9th floor called the Austin Conspiracy, where the two double beds have been upended and shoved against the wall to make room for chairs, Al Grierson plays his epic "History of the World." Bob Hillman plays one stunning New York City ballad after another, somewhere near midnight. Tai Burnett, maybe twenty, maybe Catie Curtis' younger sister, plays The Song at 1am. Canadian Greg MacPherson, about the same age, plays it at just down the hall about 1:30. Anne O'Meara Heaton goes into a trance behind her keyboard and leaves a sparse crowd spellbound at her 3am show.
The singers are all obscure and the song is ephemeral. The Song changes time, and as night turns into morning time stops flowing with the clock and starts flowing with the music. Hours pass in a single song. Years. And when it's over, you feel like you can't remember a thing. I'm embarassed to say I can't tell you a single word of what I found. Its as if in the world of the song, there is only the present - no past to remember, no future to remember it in.
At Friday's luncheon banquet (really breakfast to 90% of those attending) the Folk Alliance gave out Life-time Achievement Awards to three people who have dedicated their lives to folk music and the preservation of its traditions.
Dewey Balfa - Balfa is credited in large part with the modern revival of Cajun music and culture. Invited to play at the Newport Folk Festival in 1964, Balfa was apprehensive. At that time, people referred to Cajun music as "chunkachunk" music. But a standing ovation after the group's first song gave him the conviction that his cultural inheritance was intrinsically valuable. He returned home to Louisianna saying - "we've been playing this music on the back porch. It's time to start playing on the front porch." A documentary film showed the new generation of Cajun musicians, including Steve Riley, who ensure that Balfa's work over the next 30 years was not in vain.
Edith Fowke - Canadian folklorist. Like her counterpart John Lomax in the U.S., Edith Fowke took a passionate interest in the music of ordinary people in her country, and like Lomax she traveled the length and breadth of Canada documenting its musical heritage. She was also passionate about social justice and labor issues. Fowke wrote books and edited manuscripts well into her 80s, assisted by a supportive husband.
Doc Watson - A great innovator of the guitar, Watson drew his inspiration from "hillbilly" music. For many years the blind musician played on the street to earn his living, creating a repertoire for guitar that included difficult fiddle tunes. Eventually this humble performer became a popular act and a major influence on a whole generation of young musicians who rediscovered these American roots through him - including his son Merle.
These are all people who persisted, over many decades and often in the face of obstacles and apathy, in their divine obsessions with traditional music. Their dedication has carried the music through hard times to leave it for us - and in us. And our generation will need men and women like them to carry it on into the new era.
Go to the following pages to see more photos from the conference. ->
Hugh Blumenfeld, Editor
hugh@balladtree.com
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