Monday, August 17, 2015

Violas and Vibrations

I consider myself fortunate to know talented people.

But sometimes you're planning to go see one talented friend play and you come home from a day in the country to find a message from another friend saying he's playing the same night. In a case like that, you go with the friend who plays out less frequently.

That's also how you end up at O'Toole's - a place I go years without visiting - for the second time in a month to meet friends.

The back room where the music would be played is filling up and judging by the familiarity of the arrivals and the musicians, I suspect a lot of friends are in the audience. I get introduced to three guys and spot a female singer I've known for years.

We're all there for the Songwriters Showcase, the 289th (!) consecutive show of "A Showcase of Original Songs" sponsored by VOCAL, Virginia's composer and lyricist organization ("If you're a songwriter  or a recovering songwriter, we're the group for you.").

Our food arrived ahead of the first performer, Glenda Creamer, who shared that she was writing a musical about Jesus. If I'm not mistaken, that's also what Andrew Lloyd Webber said in 1970.

"I tried to decide which songs would go over best in a bar," she said from behind her acoustic guitar. "If you don't like religion, just listen to the stories." That was for me because she could no doubt spot my heathen face in the crowd since I was only one table back.

Fortunately for those of us short on a theological education, she set up the songs for us, explaining who was singing to whom and why before each song. The music had a distinctively mid-'60s folk vibe as we heard about Zechariah, Job and, my personal favorite, Lazarus, mainly because the song had a line where Jesus yells, "Lazarus, come out of there!" and she shouted that line like a champ.

I know I'm not supposes to find it amusing, but I did. It's good that I'm not religious, because I'd be going straight to hell.

The trio of Russell, Josh and David took the stage next with two guitars and viola. Russell explained that the three had met back at University of Richmond in the '60s and he'd been song writing partners with Josh for forty-some years and best friends with David for just as long.

Pointing to the audience, he  said, "I know a lot of you out there thought you were my best friend, but it was really Dave." Those years of friendship and practicing had paid off because apparently they'd had only one practice yesterday afternoon to prepare for this show, not that you'd ever know it from how rehearsed they sounded.

With two voices and three instruments, their version of folk was textured and polished-sounding as they went through songs such as "Let Me Stay with You," "Friend" and Josh's lovely "Stars of Las Vegas," although he admitted to never having made it to Vegas.

That makes two of us.

As well played as the guitars were, it was the viola parts - and especially the solos - that really made the songs something special, especially knowing that some of the parts had been created yesterday. That's that talent thing I admire so much.

After Pete Seeger had died, Russell had written "Thank Ya, Pete," a nod to Seeger being the first artist that he and his father had both liked. The song required him to play banjo and after he finished, he said, "That's all the banjo we can afford tonight" and put it away.

We need to start saving up so we can have more banjo next time.

One of my favorite songs tonight was Josh's "Synchronized Vibrations," a song that incorporated scientific terminology in a song about love while David played a killer counterpoint on viola.

Like steel to an MRI
Like gravitation
Strange attractors, you and I
Synchronized vibrations

They closed with "Land of Opportunity," a keenly-observed commentary on politics, and the night would have been over except that the crowd had other ideas. My friend returned to the table long enough to slurp back a Jello shot with me before returning to stage when the crowd called for "Church Hill Tunnel."

History has proven that disasters make great folk music.

Once we'd gotten the band back up there, they played several more songs to an enthusiastic crowd before Russell announced, "I'm going to have to stop. I can't stand any more magic."

That's what she said after every date. Fans of talent can stand all the magic they can get.

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