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August 2006
Long Island
Thank
God for van pickup at the La Guardia airport. I don’t
think we could have made it to our hotel if we had been driving
ourselves. Even having been raised in LA I still get lost trying
to find my way round New York. Van pickups really take the
pain out of the end of a long trip.
Our
first gig was an open-air concert at the Harry Chapin Theater
honoring veterans. There were opening ceremonies complete
with speeches and Marines firing salutes for the fallen. Coincidentally,
right behind the stage was the site of the new 911 memorial
which is still under construction.
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Beautiful
Harry Chapin Theatre
It was a huge crowd packed onto a lawn almost
300 feet deep and three times as wide. We estimated that there
were somewhere between three and five thousand people there.
Quite a house.
After
the show one lady came up after the show and thanked us for having
been such a big part of her family’s life. A
father came up and introduced his son who was singing in his
own folk group, still passing on the KT songs and doing some
new ones of their own. Another couple had come in to NY to see
a show but had sold their tickets when they found out we were
playing that night. Almost everyone asked how soon we would be
coming back again.
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Martin
Fest
The best part of the trip was that we had a free day on
the very day of the Martin Guitar Festival, only a two hour
drive from New York. We thought we would surprise them and
just show up and do a set, but somehow the word got leaked
by a particular chat group (no names please) so that when we
showed up everyone was waiting with bated breath.
Paul
was on a gig in New York, but we were lucky enough to have
Rick McLay there to cover the bass and he did a great job.
Here’s
a shot of him and his wife.
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We did a short half-hour set with lots of jokes and the
crowd going wild and singing along with every song. Bill
was playing the prototype Kingston Trio Martin D-28 and the
crowd made quite a fuss over that as well as my little 2T-18.
Afterward we wandered through the picnic tables; each one
covered with pre-war and custom Martins.
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I’ve
only seen one custom Martin in my life before this, and there
were at least four there, including this one built with a
New York style body and curly maple sides and back.
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Of
course everyone wanted us to play their guitars so
that they could say they were played by the Kingston
Trio, so we were playing guitars left and right,
each one so amazingly good that you didn’t want to
put it down. Ah, the things we have to suffer through
for our art. Here’s George suffering through
another beautiful guitar. |
And there were banjos, too, so Bill was happy as a clam.
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And
there were loads of people playing in groups and at
the open mike that they had. One couple in particular,
Nina & Mike,
caught my ear. She wrote her own songs and had a voice
that reminded me of Maria Muldaur from the Jim Kweskin
Jug Band; a sort of hillbilly jazz sound. Very intriguing.
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Around
6:00 pm everyone sat down for a performance by Lawrence Juber,
the celebrated guitarist from McCartney’s “Wings” band.
In his playing you could hear all the innovations that have
come to guitar over the last thirty years; the slaps and punches
of Michael Hedges, DADGAD and other altered tunings of Pierre
Bensusanne, and a wonderful sense of melody and harmony ringing
out in every chord. I was sitting with a couple of other players
and after hearing Juber play we all decided to cut off our
fingers and take up kazoo. |
But
it wasn’t over yet. The jam back at the Comfort
Inn took off after a break for dinner and in the main room
Ed Bruce, the writer of “Mama, Don’t Let Your Babies
Grow Up to be Cowboys” (boy is that a long title), was
holding court. In his rich and gravelly smooth bass voice he
crooned song after song, telling tales of drunken nights, and
tender true hearts. It was absolutely spell-binding.
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All over the hotel there were people playing in small clusters;
a group outside was singing old folk songs and another was
singing pop stuff; the finger-pickers had moved into the stairwell
where a single guitar could be heard most clearly; and walking
down the hall there was fiddle and mandolin coming from one
room and voices from another and a chord lesson going on in
another. I hit my limit around 2:00 am and had to call it a
night.
The
next day we went on our trip to Mecca: a tour of the Martin
Guitar Factory. Notice the greeters at the front door – talk
about getting into your guitar. |
There were guitars you never would have imagined, in every
style and color, especially the new line of minis that looked
like a row of all-day suckers. |
We were lucky enough to have Dick Boak, the artist liaison,
give us the tour. His depth of knowledge was amazing. And the
displays were wonderful, with original instruments, workbench
and tools, along with photos and a history of the Martin family
and company. You do know that Martin has been a family businesses
for six generations in America, now run by Christian Frederick
Martin IV. Of course you did.
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There was the Peacock Guitar, the 500,000th guitar made,
as well as the D-100, the one-millionth guitar. There were
flat-tops, mandolins, banjos, special models like the Elvis
Presley special and even a double-neck model that looked like
a Picasso painting.
But
the real thrill was finding a whole display of the
instruments played by the Kingston Trio. Dick opened
the case and let us pose with them. |
Then
we went through the factory itself. I won’t
bore you will all the details, but here are some shots
for those of you who wondered what it was like inside
the factory that makes all those wonderful guitars. |
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American Public Television (NY Channel 13)
The
next morning we drove back to NY to appear on Channel 13
as part of their pledge drive. They were showing the new
retrospective “The Kingston Trio Story: Wherever We
May Go ” and
we played several songs live and were interviewed as well.
PLUG: Public
Television provides programs that would never appear on any
other channels. Nova, Nature, Bill Moyers, Mystery Theater – isn’t
that worth the price of your daily latte? If Congress won’t
vote to fund Public Television, then vote for it yourself
with your wallet. I do.
NOW, reminding myself that when you get on your high horse
you should look over your shoulder to see what you are leaving
behind, I will go back to commenting on folk music events in
my next entry. |
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