Honey, Do Drop In

There's a lot to be said for being serenaded by candlelight.

Sure, in a perfect world, it would be by a suitor, but I can't wait forever for that to happen.

I'd been invited to spend an evening in a friend's living room listening to the Honey Dew Drops play. What I didn't know until I got there was that she lives in the former Mrs. Morton's Tea Room house.

Longtime Richmonders probably know about the elegant staircase, inviting rooms and abundance of windows, but it was all new to me.

One of my J-Ward neighbors had even made yeast rolls for the occasion, apparently Mrs. Morton's specialty, slathering them with so much butter my fingers got shiny just eating one (or two).

It was my first time at one of this friend's house shows, but only because every other time she'd invited me, I already had plans.

She's passionate about bringing music to living rooms and I have to admit, I love the intimacy of a 20-person show.

Her living room was magical, lit by at least three dozen candles glowing from wall sconces and on the mantle, making all of us look really good.

Once everyone had beverages, the Honey Dew Drops moved to the front of the room to perform.  Even they couldn't help but comment on how wonderful it was to be playing by candlelight.

On stools and leaning into each other, Kagey played guitar and Laura played banjo and their voices harmonized like they were soul mates, which perhaps they are since they're married and seemingly pretty happy about that.

With such a small group, their between-song chatter seemed more like one party guest just talking to another than anything else.

Like me, they'd just this weekend seen "Inside Llewyn Davis," although it resonated differently with them given their profession.

"It's a sad story about a folk singer," Kagey explained. "It kind of made us wonder if what we're doing is a good idea."

Based on what we heard tonight, I'd say it is.

They did several original songs, like "No More Troubles" and the finger-picking "Back Room," explaining that the latter had come together with a friend, some bad Texas beer and a tune Kagey had been working on for a while, trying to use the "cure cottages" they'd seen in Saranac as inspiration.

Cure cottages were for TB patients and had big porches for taking in good, clean air, I was fascinated to learn.

Laura introduced the beautiful "Silver Linings," a rare autobiographical song, saying it was about the ups and downs of being in a relationship, "how it's mostly a really positive thing."

"Happiness" had my favorite line of the evening: What do I know about the shape I'm in? All I know is what I don't want to do again.

Them's words to live by.

They balanced those two with "Nobody in the World," characterizing it as a breakup song, not autobiographical, written together at breakfast and played on mandolin and guitar.

Even when these two sing about breakups, their voices sound so beautiful together that it's hard to believe they could even write such lyrics, much less make them up out of whole cloth.

They told us about a tour through Canada doing house shows, advising against visiting Manitoba in January, but raving about a singer named Fred Eggleston they'd played with there and doing his excellent song, "Katy."

"For Sure Blues" was about Kagey's grandfather, a former alcoholic and army veteran, whom Laura said had the best sense of humor in the world.

He also had lived in Richmond and as a kid had a paper route along Franklin Street, stretching from Foushee, where we were tonight, to Oregon Hill.

As if listening to these two talented people play music in a candlelit room in a former tea room wasn't treat enough, we were also getting all kinds of great storytelling as the cherry on top of it all.

They closed the show with The Band's "Long Black Veil," a song of infidelity and death, causing the room to give them a standing ovation.

Apparently the candlelight and applause was enough incentive to give us an encore, which went from one to two songs when a musician in the audience requested an a capella song he'd heard them do at Ashland Coffee and Tea a while back.

"Bright Morning Stars" was positively goose bump-worthy.

I'm willing to bet a night of stellar music played by candlelight does a person as much good as any cure cottage.

Throw in a couple of yeast rolls and all I know is I want to do it again.