Back At It!

The last couple of weeks have been long and exhausting (though fruitful!) and I'm just getting back to feeling like I can come out of hiding and start posting regularly again...

The 2004 Great Lakes Folk Festival has come and gone... it was a great weekend filled with great music, dance and food — all enjoyed by large crowds. The challenge for me every year, of course, is to be in as many places at one time as is humanly possible!

I can't say enough about all of the people I work with who are so key to the success of this event: my fellow staffers at the MSU Museum; all the volunteers (350 or so), the sound and tech crews, the great staff at the Marriott at University Place, the great, amazing musicians and the thousands and thousands of people in attendance for three days last weekend.

There were many highlights for me, despite having little opportunity to spend big chunks of time listening to music...

On Friday night, with rain clouds threatening, Aziz Herawi, an Afghani Dutar (lute) player, took the stage with his son and an Indian (I believe) dancer, who was absolutely stunning. In the large venue of Valley Court Stage, Herawi's ragas demand a more attentive audience than the boisterous Québécois band Le Vent du Nord or Ireland's Danú, but the dance helped to capture the attention of the growing twilight audience.

Le Vent du Nord and Danú brought the evening to a rousing ending despite shortened sets caused by delays with set-ups. Their musicianship is astounding. Watching Danú, in particular, was breathtaking as each member of the seven-piece group illustrated their skills individually and in unison. Perhaps it's just the Irish in me, but there is almost nothing better than music from Eire — particularly when it's performed by people from its shore, only feet away from me. My daughter and I spent time with the band later in one of their hotel rooms listening to music, checking out the rough mixes for an upcoming DVD and tipping a few beers (me — not my daughter!).

Another magical moment for me was to see the huge crowd gathered in the sun (and shadow of the CVS) to see Danú on Saturday afternoon. The mass of people extended from the stage back beyond the intersection of M.A.C. and Albert — the first time I'd ever seen that large an audience at the M.A.C. stage. It was a delight to share shots of Bushmills and beers with Danú's Tom Doorley later that night, talking (too much about) politics, and discussing my friend Mary Pat Doorley and her family's support for the band when they appear in Ohio.

This year, we featured several Hip-Hop artists and complemented their performances with discussion panels. One of the groups did a street performance that drew a lot of attention and much praise. Going into the weekend, we were concerned about the response this element would get from the attendees, but we were fortunate to have selected artists who have a lot to say and who understood what we were trying to do.

I wasn't privy to one of the most moving moments of the Festival, unfortunately, which I have to tell second-hand, as best as my memory might allow...

Because the Festival is designed to be educational as well as entertaining, one of my duties as music coordinator is to put together what we call "Traditions Showcases", sessions which are usually comprised of musicians from different cultural traditions who play the same or similar instruments. One such showcase featured six accordion players: Celtic, Québécois, Cajun, Conjunto (Tex-Mex), and two from the Polka tradition.

There is mention of the session in a Lansing State Journal post-fest review (a little more comprehensive look at the Festival appeared in the Lansing City Pulse), but from what I heard from people who were there, it was a more moving story than as reported. One of the Polka-playing accordionists, Staś Wisniach had been presented a Michigan Heritage Award and so came late to join the other five musicians. By the time he arrived, it was his "turn" to play something in order to demonstrate his background. He played a classical piece and from all reports had the other musicians rapt in attention, astonished, I think, at his virtuosity on the instrument.

When Staś finished, he spoke eloquently of the musicianship of the others present on stage with him, and what an honor it was to be amongst them. Of course, it was clear from the reactions on the faces of the others that they were the ones feeling honored.

Prior to the Festival, when I had talked with one of the accordionists (Frank Piotrowski of Pan Franek & Zosia's Polka Towners) about participating in the showcase, he expressed concern — that he was a bit nervous since he'd never done anything but play music; rarely (if ever) had he talked about it in such a setting. Sunday morning, when it came time for Frank to leave, he was beaming and raving about the experience he'd had with the other accordionists and with Staś in particular.

I received a similar rave from Gao Hong, who was thrilled to have had the opportunity to share a Lute Traditions Showcase with Abdel Karim Bader, an Arab-American Oud (rhymes with food) player, and the previously mentioned Aziz Herawi. I was thrilled to have recognized the opportunity to present these three outstanding lute players in this format as our audience appreciates learning about the various cultures we present, but when the artists leave the sessions excited, my thrill grows exponentially.

Sunday, after the Festival wrapped up ("rapped" up?), a few of the staff, some friends and Le Vent du Nord gathered at Lou & Harry's to share a few drinks in the cooling night air of the establishment's patio. I think that Harry stayed open past his regular hours as we kept ordering pitchers and laughing. Eventually, a couple of the Hip-Hop artists joined; later, a handful of us gathered in the hotel room of ethnomusicologist/folklorist Nancy Groce, and into the hours of morning, we continued our discussions of music and cultures.

These are the moments that make a year's worth of phone calls, meetings (and more meetings!), contract negotiations, schedule preparations, blah, blah, blah... all worthwhile. While it's great to hear how much the audiences enjoyed the variety and quality of the music that I help to program, I think the most treasured aspect for me is knowing that most of the musicians, who often come to the Festival thinking that it's just another gig, leave with such meaningful experiences.

Without a doubt, this is the best job I've ever had. Ever could have. Ever will have.