There's
a poignancy inherent in an event that commemorates the life of a
singer/songwriter who died far too young. It continues in the life of
a town that died because its principal employer closed up shop. In an
event cancelled last year due to a blow-hard named Arthur.
Folk
Music is the language of the working people; be they migrant workers,
the man behind the plough, the men who go down to the sea in ships,
the colliers who enter the deeps, the factory worker, the housemaid
on her knees. Too often the pay is too little, the jobs short-lived,
the work too hard. In
consequence the
tone is often melancholy.
Arriving
at Stanfest it is hard to believe that matters will ever come
together but 800 volunteers pulling together with a will and a
co-ordinated purpose seem to always make it happen. The Thursday
Night Pre-Party appears to be an opportunity for old friends to renew
acquaintance. It is nearly impossible to hear the acts who perform in
the dreadful acoustics of the Canso Arena above
the chatter.
Stanfest
is a party animal kind of place. Quiet hours are between 3:00 AM and
8:00 AM. Generators allowed between 8:00 AM and 11:00 PM. Remember
concerts go to 1:00 AM. Waiting
until 8 to make one's first coffee is a bit of a strain for early
risers. As with most seaports getting anywhere involves a hill and so
it was, puff, puff, as I walked into town to shop at the CO-OP. On
Thursday July 2nd
their truck had just come in and pallets of food were plopped
everywhere in the aisles. They'd just gotten a load of fresh Maritime
Strawberries. Bread was from the local bakery I'd just walked past.
Sauer
Kraut from Lewis Mountain, NB.
Just
to tease us it rained overnight twice but managed to clear before
concert time each day. Friday Night presented an azure blue clear sky
and as the sun set Venus and Jupiter lit up the sky just to the right
of stage while a bird flew back and forth with worms to its nest
under the eaves above the speakers stage right.
A
Duo called Fortunate Ones from NFLD led off proceedings followed by
Catherine MacLellan from PEI. Talent really seems to run in families.
Guy Davis' harmonica truly sang next. The Pictou Prince Dave Gunning
found reason to scowl before he bloomed for the audience. Guitar
picking is rarely lacking at these events but Thom Swift stood out,
particularly on National Steel. Alan Doyle of Great Big Sea fame to
quote others put on an object lesson in how to work an audience. As
the night's headline act he held the crowd enthralled. His guitarist
Corey Tetford pranced about the stage and watching the expressions on
his face proved to provide an act in and of itself. He
and the accordionist mugged with Alan while the bassist from Halifax
stood expressionless and unmoving. Fiddle and drums completed the
group. Harry Chapin's brother performed with Livingston Taylor—a
music professor, and EVA, an all female trio. RURA
from Scotland were rather loud and featured a mixed group, one in
peaked sailor's hat on tin flute and bodhran, a guitar, fiddle and
bag pipes. I found the entire evening rather over-amplified and heavy
on the bass in particular—the recording from John Allan Cameron as
I waited for the show to start boomed. By
wrap up time the sky was clear and cold and returning home was about
getting warm again.
Morning
came all too soon on Saturday. Decided to try out the Shamrock Club
for breakfast. It
proved to be a continental breakfast with fried dinner ham and boiled
eggs thrown in. I was underwhelmed.
Daytime
workshops from 11:00 to 6:00 PM provide an opportunity for solo acts
to give an extended performance and to highlight acts that don't get
their moment on the main stage. When groups of performers join up for
a themed presentation
the magic happens when up to four groups use the opportunity to jam
together. Alas egos often get in the way. It is also instructive to
see whether event hosts choose to lead off or let others go first.
With 5 stages performing simultaneously plumping
for one group is a dilemma.
For
Bards and Ballads Nathan Rogers, Rachel Sermani and Mike Doyle played
nice and supported one another.
The
next grouping of Ryan Cook, Fortunate Ones, and Shiretown performed
as solo acts. Seeing performers up close and personal gives them the
opportunity to supply background to their songs and personal details.
Ryan Cook from Yarmouth grew up on a dairy farm—“You can whip our
cream, but you can't beat our milk.” The farm is no more.
The
Fitzgerald Family are Everything Fitz from Bancroft Ontario playing
Ottawa Valley style fiddle and tap dancing. With the second act a no
show they put on an impromptu hour-long bravura performance with one
of their own number a late arrival due to travel problems. Great
fiddling even more impressive when done while tap dancing. Just
watching them made me feel sore. Their novelty fiddle act is
sheer magic. Tom
loosened the hair on his bow and pulled it over his fiddle to play
all four strings at once.
I
remained at the Queensport Stage for About
My Home.
All these groups seem to blend together in one's mind. A break for
late lunch at 3:00.
At
the Fox Island Stage Garnet Rogers led a workshop called There's
Something Wrong in the World.
Garnet told us about the county expropriating a family's land to ship
crushed rock to China. As Sam Baker put it, “Don't they have rocks
in China.”
Songs
by my Heroes
So
who were their heroes?
Singalongs
Alas the songs selected tended to give one the message that audience
participation was not really wanted.
Something
about a Saturday Night Audience dating back to my days in Amateur
Theatre. Granted that I've been spoiled by the classical music
experience for the not so subtle differences of the pop music genre.
But the gang who moved in behind me Saturday
Night
had
zero interest in listening to the acts on stage which begs the
question, if all you want is a family reunion why go to a concert and
spoil it for those who want to listen. I finally had to get up and
move elsewhere. People so boorish wouldn't give it a second thought.
I'd
already seen Chuck Brodsky and Sam Baker in the afternoon. Matt
Anderson, a surprise replacement for the third act was popular with
the crowd. Lennie Gallant followed and then Bruce Guthro headlined.
He brought out his 24-year-old son and then in succession filled the
stage with 10 other musicians. Breabach
from Scotland brought twin bagpipes, end blown flute and transverse,
fiddle, guitar and stand-up bass plucked and bowed. Modern young
celtic performers do their own interpretations of traditional ballads
and seem to shun performing unplugged. Maddy Prior strutted regally
on stage amid the wall of sound her backup group provided. When the
noise became painful I made it a night missing the final
group—Shanneyganock. I'd long since moved so I could hear the
performers above the audience racket.
Sunday
Morning began wet for those up that early. I walked up to the arena
for their breakfast in paper machete box after brewing my own coffee
at home. Seven
bucks gets you
scrambled
eggs, hash browns, curled bacon, three sausages, and buttered
toast—single slice. Grab your own condiments.
There's a reason for the term greasy spoon.
Went
outside to access the Pourhouse Stage. Though
the place has dreadful acoustics it affords an opportunity to sit
inches from the performers and see them eye to eye.
The
first act was Lennie Gallant from PEI accompanied by two sons on
drums and guitar. A fourth musician on fiddle. The latest in drums
is an enclosed box the performer sits on getting different timbres
depending on where they strike it with hands or brushes or padded
sticks. First saw one 4 years ago at Louisbourg Playhouse. Lennie is
a folky who has written many hockey ballads having played left wing
in his younger days. He told of drilling a hole in the ice on a
backyard pond to flood the ice to smooth it out. When he met Brian
Trottier at a community game he was told. We had one of those
backyard ponds, somewhere out west, when we wanted to flood it we
just kicked a couple of logs out of the beaver dam—can
you get any more Canadian than that?
I
hung around to see Everything Fitz a second time. With both sisters
present the act was somewhat different. I
marvel at their father's ability to keep an act involving three
growing young
adults
together for 10 years. I
haven't checked to see what's happening with the Leahy Family lately.
What
followed was termed Fiddle Fever. Fiddlers from 3 groups accompanied
by mandolin and guitar. Elsewhere at another time and location I
missed the guitar workshop, always a highlight. Watching fiddlers jam
together unrehearsed is a treat.
Slipped
home for lunch and missed the blowhard intro to Singing Stan. Seeing
some twenty performers on stage to work together was worth the price
of admission.
Opted
to settle at the Fox Island Stage near my campsite for the last three
workshops.
Hard
to single out individual performances after all those acts but
interesting at the time to see what choices were made.
At
a session titled Songs
about Underdogs
Bruce Guthro and Nathan Rogers exchanged some rather pointed barbs
while Sam Baker and Chuck Brodsky tried to avoid the verbal fencing.
Some of the humour and the songs were rather X-rated.
Rita
Coolidge's handlers spent 25 minutes setting up and perfecting sound
check. The few numbers she performed were sonically perfect but was
all that worth it? I first saw her at about 1000 ft from the balcony
of Karl Marx Theatre in Havana, Cuba with her husband of 8 years Kris
Kristofferson. Seems
I missed a few of her exes. She hasn't aged well but make-up and
plastic surgery help. She ran over. Aside from her parade of husbands
she talked of her Cherokee heritage and sang Amazing Grace in her
native tongue. I am not a fan of Gospel Songs or any ballad drawn out
in agonizing fashion.
Barely
time for supper before finding a place to park for the evening. Found
a “window” between two female beached whales that moved into
preplaced seats. Their smoking buddy walked all over my feet in the
dark going out to smoke every half hour. At least the gang this night
were relatively quiet.
Garnet
Rogers came on first to a lawn that was packed with empty chairs. He
was gracious and pulled out two sheets of paper that contained an
excerpt from the book he is writing about touring with his brother to
come out this Fall.
Hat
Fitz and Cara were a pair from Australia. He played National Steel
and she sat in a long dress with her legs splayed in front of a set
of drums and wore a brilliantly red hat
of bird feathers. She drummed, sang, played washboard with steel
studded gloves and penny whistle. He sang and reacted badly to his
wife translating his thick outback accent.
Coig—Scottish
for five are a group formed after a Cape Breton workshop placed them
together. Interesting sound but
over loud.
Room
was made for an Ozark group that failed to make it Saturday. Looking
like the cast from Dueling Banjos in the movie Deliverance the men
had flowing beards and long flaxen hair. Ten-year-old EmiSunshine
left
we wondering what constitutes child abuse as she sang lyrics I hope
are beyond her years.
Rita
Coolidge performed non-stop for over an hour songs spanning her
decades and husbands. Note perfect performance but I tire quickly of
that long drawn out ballad style of singing.
Long
haired young Jordan Musycsyn was raved about by the hosts with his
past shoulder-length hair, patched jeans and 8-piece band including
black blues pianist in white suit and red tie. I didn't see what the
fuss was about. They did make a lot of noise.
The
Standfields, a local act were 5—guitar, bass, drum, bouzouki, and
electric mandolin. They weren't as bad as I'd expected is the best
that I can say.
The
closing singalong was for the 40 some people on stage but didn't
include the audience who couldn't have read the words printed in the
program anyway at 12:30 AM in the dark. I'd brought my light and was
disappointed. They skipped two of the numbers including the final
Amazing Grace already performed in Cherokee by Rita Coolidge.
