Eclectic Company: Intimate Events: A Musical Lecture and a House Concert

I know you know that I like intimate musical performances, and to get to them I’ll usually make a special effort. Well, I almost missed a wonderful event at the Carnegie Memorial Library’s meeting room one morning last week, when about 40 people gathered to listen to fiddler, mandolinist, fiddle contest and concert and festival promoter Ron Yule and the old and young members of his Medicare String Band illustrate Yule’s talk titled “Influential and Popular Fiddle Tunes and Styles of 20th Century Louisiana,” but luckily retired Judge Fred Godwin put me wise to the event, and I got there just in time, as the band finished their opening number.

Yule, who leads a regular bluegrass and old timey jam up Ragley way is a fiddle music historian, author, and sharp, tasty picker. For his talk with music, Yule brought out many old familiars, starting with “Bile Them Cabbage Down” and stepping smartly through numerous songs illustrating various musical styles. His talk was to cover blues, Cajun, western swing, Celtic tunes from the Irish and Scottish traditions, bluegrass, gospel, and of course, old timey (which I would describe generally as a softer, less frenetic string band sound than bluegrass, featuring many if not all of the same instruments). As Yule paged through his outline, talking a little and playing more, I heard lots of old familiar musical friends, like “Black Mountain Rag,” and some tunes I hadn’t heard in many years including “Fisher’s Hornpipe.” Of course, Yule couldn’t avoid playing the most popular bluegrass fiddle tune of the 20th Century – “Orange Blossom Special” – but he played it straightforwardly with an economy of movement in his bow arm (unlike the hamming it up version that most fiddlers deliver to show how hard they’re working and to generate more excitement and applause) that illustrated the rolling and thundering train rhythm driving the song with a minimum of fuss but no diminution of enjoyment. And the band sang the chorus too, which is more than you can expect from Charlie Daniels, who we’ve all seen play it, bow hairs flying, on those Geico commercials.

Yule’s talk was to be for just an hour, so even though the group played shortened versions of the tunes on their ambitious set list, and stayed about 10 minutes longer than scheduled, the Medicare Bluegrass Band were forced to end before they’d performed all the songs they’d rehearsed. Closing with “I’ll Fly Away,” a gospel number that allowed for instrumental solos by bass, banjo, both fiddles, mandolin and guitar, I found myself singing along out loud, and hoping to meet up with the band to hear the rest of the set list on another occasion.

This Friday night, I won’t have to make any effort to find an intimate musical performance, because I’m going to be presenting one. Yes, there’s a shameless self-promotion coming up: AlterEgo Productions will host a house concert featuring singer/songwriter, guitarist and harmonica player Rod MacDonald on August 13, at 7:30, in Big Lake at the Woosley Camp in the Old Settlement. Tickets are $12 in advance and $15 at the door, all to the performer; reservations are required (call 337-515-6479, or email leslie@alteregoprods.com) as space is limited. Rod MacDonald is an old friend from the Greenwich Village folk music scene of the 1970s, when the MacDougal, West Third and Bleecker Streets hub was home to a half-dozen little folk music clubs outnumbered by a handful of middle eastern food emporiums. I practically lived in those clubs, hanging out most often at Folk City, where Dylan played before he became famous, and to which I introduced Robbie Woliver, who eventually bought the club. Rod played at the Folk City 50th Anniversary concert this past June, which unfortunately I had to miss, and he reported to me that the show spilled over to someone’s apartment after the club closed, continuing to the wee hours, just like those events used to do. When I first met him, Rod played around the scene at Folk City and several of the Village clubs. But after a while his promotional postcards showed MacDougal Street dotted with falafel shops, with an X marking the Speakeasy, the run-down eatery housing the songwriters’ collective that he’d gravitated to performing in and helping to organize. I laughed every time I saw that drawing, and wish I could reproduce it for you here.

There have been singers and songwriters passing through my life since the late 1960s, some whose works and performances have become famous, and some whose songs have made their way into my own rarely-performed repertoire. But for several years now, I’ve been bent on learning one of Rod’s early works, because its sentiments have become timely once again. I think his “Hard Times” is better than the one written by Stephen Foster, but someday I expect to sing them both as a medley with “All The Hard Times of Old England.” Maybe leading a protest on some Capitol’s lawn?

Rod’s sly humor and sharp ear make their way into many of his songs, exhibiting the talent for observation that led to a job as a reporter for a national newsweekly, after he finished Columbia law school, but before he joined the folk music army. “Norman” evokes the whole film (and you know which scary one I mean) in three minutes, while “American Jerusalem” about the haves and the have nots of New York City tells it like it still is. I can listen to Rod’s material whenever I want to because I’ve got his songs stored on my computer. But however wonderful I find his records, I can never get enough of Rod’s live performances, by turns wry and sentimental, then tart and silly, filled with great songs (he’s recorded nine albums, and has many more songs than those to call upon) and a stage resonance that always puts me right where I want to be: in my own living room, sitting comfortably among good friends, while a talented musician asks if we want to hear a brand new song. You bet I do.