March 1–8, 2001

music

Folkin’ Eh

A report from the 2001 Folk Alliance Conference in Vancouver.

by Mary Armstrong

Slumping over the keys, eyes fluttering with sleepiness, the ol’ refrain, "why do you do this to yourself?" repeats softly in my head. But foregoing sleep is the only way to get maximum immersion in the nonstop music, dance and world culture that is the annual International Folk Alliance Conference (Feb. 15-18) — a gigantic roots music family reunion. Though in past years the conference was tagged "North American," recent years have seen the name changed to "International," and this year musicians, presenters, labels and journalists traveling from Australia, Sweden, Italy and Spain were important to the mix. Transplants to North America added more diversity. For example, the Vancouver-based Khac Chi ensemble, originally from Vietnam, gave showcase performances in the evening and taught the fine points of Vietnamese folk music during the day. Bamboo appeared everywhere, from three-player flutes to xylophones, all gracefully handcrafted.

FA was not without frustration. The Hyatt’s elevators choked, and getting to after-hours in-room showcases — where all the real discoveries are made — became a challenge. Add that gridlock to the plethora of good stuff all happening at once and sometimes choices were made by proximity rather than preference.

Wednesday

Jets crammed with folkies slash the Canadian skies toward the conference in hopes of great jamming opportunities and beyond. The magic combination of promotions and performances could help them "make it"; Air Canada’s in-flight movie is, fittingly, Almost Famous.

The Hyatt Regency is your typical upscale hotel. Its view of the harbor and snow-covered mountains defines breathtaking. With neither jams nor crowds yet (the conference officially starts tomorrow), it’s solo exploring of the chi-chi high dollar area. Solitary venturing raises the question: After 13 years is the Folk Alliance losing steam?

Thursday

Thursday morning relieves those fears as spaces begin to clutter with folks carrying instruments. With so many informative panels to choose from, I pause for coffee to ponder options. I’m on my way to "Folkin’ Eh!" — a discussion of the Canadian scene. But when I realize I’m sipping coffee with two of the pillars of Canada’s festival scene, the men behind Summerfolk and Owen Sound, I opt for a private panel on the spot.

The Folk Alliance presents its Lifetime Achievement Awards after lunch. Philly’s late Paul Robeson is honored for his stubborn insistence that spirituals are serious music deserving of presentation in concert halls as well as churches. Ralph Rinzler, also deceased, is recognized as a musician and for helping create the Smithsonian Festival of American Folklife.

The best awards are ones awarded to those still around to feel the glow. Lydia Mendoza, 84, known in her prime as The Lark of the Border for her emotional singing, is unable to mount the stairs to the stage but surely felt the warmth of her five-minute standing ovation. Her powerful style of 12-string guitar playing won fans among guitarists like Leo Kottke as well as the people of Texas and Mexico.

More teaching panels are followed by A Really Big Night Out on the Drive where clubs along Commercial Drive offer a staggering variety of music on 21 stages—a new band every half hour or so on each. Many clubs are so mobbed that it’s necessary to pick another act. Bluesman/actor Guy Davis has people standing outside to listen; rather than brave the cold we move on to the Croation Club where Vancouver’s own Paperboys nail us with their stomping blend of Celtic and country. (Don’t miss their gig at the Point on April 5.) We then adjourned to the hotel for more music till 2 or 3 a.m. — but who remembers for sure?

Friday & Saturday

More of the same: workshops and music everywhere, the debut of the exhibit hall, plenty of musicians handing out CDs like aspirin, looking for gigs. After surviving on three or four hours of sleep for several days, it’s tough to remember exactly when certain musical epiphanies occurred. Some, like the Québecois showcases, happened several times, each magical in its own way. Montreal’s Susie Arioli Swing Band was a big favorite; Arioli admits to copping heavily from Sarah Vaughan and her lead guitarist, Jordan Officer, channels the swing spirit of Charlie Christian. Matapat is probably the best loved Quebecois trio, with their infectious smiles as beguiling as the fiddle, accordion and rock/funk bass. Add to them an assortment of other musicians from la belle province and the music is like a French Ceili. At one point there were four fiddles, two accordions, two step dancers, several djembes, a flamenco guitarist and a hotel room full of people gleefully singing the response the jammers call — en français, bien sûr!

Sunday

Talk about triage: there’s no way to drag all this stuff back! Quick listens to CDs reveal some keepers. The sound of a well-played slide guitar had me peeping into one room where a 17-year-old white boy was playing the hell out of his acoustic guitar. David Jacobs-Strain’s CD (Longest Road I Know on Hang-Dog Music) shows a Connecticut native who has assimilated both the vocal and picked language of blues so thoroughly that he is writing convincing originals. The CD custom-produced for this conference, with samples from all the folks who had official showcases, is a keeper, too: bittersweet in its reminder of stuff heard and missed.