Reviews

Christine Lavin Sings About Guns

4/13/2013

You're absolutely right. This is Angelina Jolie. It's about the guns in our lives.

Personally, I would listen to Christine Lavin sing names from the phone book, much less her own songs about supermarket checkout meltdowns and gallivanting flies on airplanes and “sensitive new-age guys.”

She’s my favorite Upstate New York-Upper West Side folksinger-drum majorette.

Now Christine is addressing the gun issue in the wake of Newtown.

Please click here:

http://vimeo.com/63798995

Lavin says she’s been in touch with Esther Williams because of this video. Maybe she will elaborate.

I happen to agree with Chris. But even if you don’t agree with every point, there’s the voice and the guitar.

The Web Site:

http://www.christinelavin.com/

christine lavin link

4/13/2013 09:12:05 am

hi George -- thanks for posting this. I started writing this song on Christmas Day, after the shooting in Webster, NY -- a man set his house on fire, then shot and killed two of the responding firemen. To happen so soon after the Newtown shooting was horrible.

I knew that Esther Williams was still alive, so I sent an email to the Esther Williams bathing suit website, asking if it was OK that I used her image in this video. To my surprise she and her husband emailed back two days later:

<<Thank you, Christine, we believe this song HAD TO BE WRITTEN! AND MUST BE HEARD!

Esther and Edward>>

Good to know that she is still with us and her heart is in the right place. Thanks again, George.

Ed Martin

4/13/2013 11:31:42 am

Thanks for sharing this George. I am putting the link on Facebook, where I hope many more will see and hear it. Best, Ed

George Vecsey

4/14/2013 12:34:36 am

Ed, thanks for caring. GV

Alan Rubin link

4/16/2013 04:58:39 am

Hi George

We should all do our best to get Christine’s video into the public conscience as people can make a difference. The Newtown, CT tragedy got everyone's attention, but as concerned citizens we must continually apply pressure on congress.

Congress has begun to notice that polls show that about 80% of the country favors sensible gun legislation. This is evident in that the bill coming up for a vote is even considered “too close to call”. Win or lose, the pressure must be maintained.

Christine is in the tradition of the socially conscious folk singers of my youth, NYC in the 50’s and 60’s. I was not familiar with her until your “Comet Christine Passing Through” 9/22/2012 blog. Many of the more recent folk singers seemed New Age to me.

I listened and enjoyed more of Christine’s music after I learned that Dave Van Ronk had insisted that she move to NYC.

Recently, my wife and I reminisced about all the folk singers we had seen in the Village during the heyday of folk music. Although we were married in December 1961, we had been to many of the same performances before we knew each other. We went to all the usual places, including the Village Vanguard and the Village gate, but Gerde’s Folk City at the corner of Fourth and Mercer Streets was our favorite. In addition to the many great folk singers who appeared there, Monday’s were Hootenanny Night.

It would be too pretentious for me to list the many great folk singers that we heard, but I would like to mention some of the special evenings.

Bob Dylan and Jose Feliciano made their NYC debuts at Gerde’s Folk City. Although we did not care for their later music, they were new, fresh and delightful.

K. C. Anderson also appeared at Gerde’s. He was not well known, but I had heard him interviewed on Cynthia Gooding’s weekly Sunday morning folk music program on the then interesting WBAI. He described how he was taught to play guitar with the back of a straight razor. He down tuned the guitar, which created a wonderful almost Hawaiian sound. He mostly played it conventionally.

Again at Gerde’s, we heard Elizabeth Cotton’s 70th and 80th farewell concerts. She played the guitar left handed as well as Sandy Koufax pitched. Jean Redpath, a young Scottish singer, was also special in that she was witty and socially insightful.

There were also several very intimate venues, often only a small room, where we were only a few feet from the likes of Josh White and Odetta, who was later a customer in my store. The conversations with them after were unexpected bonuses.

My all-time favorite was drinking and singing with the two younger Clancy Brothers at the White Horse Tavern (before it became Yuppified) on Hudson Street near 12th in the Village. My buddy and I (still single at the time although Sandi would have loved it) shared a table with three pleasant strangers, one being British. There was a group clustered in the center of the room singing Irish protest songs. We recognized the voices of the two younger Clancy brothers, who were there with wives and friends.

During a lull between verses, our British companion began to sing a pro-British verse. Bracing for trouble, we were invited to join them eventually closing the place at 3 AM.

I see that Christine will be in Great Barrington, MA at the end of May and early June. She might be interested in nearby Dreamaway Lodge in Otis. It is a funky place that has folk music each evening and a hootenanny on Wednesday evenings. The talent is local and no copyright material is allowed as the owner does not want to run afoul of ASCAP. Arlo Guthrie lives in the next town and often drops by when he is not on the road.

We will try to get to see Christine in Great Barrington.

George Vecsey

4/17/2013 02:04:38 am

Alan: Just insist that she twirl the baton. -- GV

Alan Rubin link

4/18/2013 01:09:13 am

As luck would have it, an article about Dreamaway Lodgewas in today's Berkshire Eagle. I copied it as I do not know how long articles are retained on their site.

Berkshires After Dark: Return to Dream Away
By Andrew Flint, Special to The Eagle
Posted: 04/18/2013 12:10:11 AM EDT

Thursday April 18, 2013

BECKET -- When heading to the Dream Away Lodge with out-of-town friends, the fun begins on the drive. The 10 minutes before arrival are spent on darkly wooded sharp turns, steep climbs, and largely vacant country roads sprinkled with just a few darkened houses shrouded by evergreens.

Without fail, someone from the back seat will sheepishly ask, "Are you sure you know where you’re taking us?"
It’s this period of shadowy disorientation that makes the lodge’s appearance all the more like a mirage.

The 18th-century building and its grounds are lit up like a Christmas tree year round, glowing with vintage neon beer signs, flickering candles in mish-mash fixtures, the orange light of indoor fireplaces and an outdoor campfire overlooking a small pond, and the carnival colors of the bar’s façade.

The sheepish questioner’s eyes grow wide and he asks, "What kind of place is this?"

The answer depends entirely on whom you ask, and I’m far too biased to be trusted.

I used to work behind that bar mixing drinks, explaining the lodge’s colorful back story and surrounding lore to newcomers (In short: farmhouse, speakeasy, gypsies, brothel(?), Guthrie-Dylan-Baez-Ginsburg, actor Daniel Osman takes over in 1997) and convincing some of my favorite bands to play in the cozy music room.

I can attest to the fact that the after-dinner scene, both in the bar and the music room, fluctuates wildly from night to night. Sometimes you’ll find a handful or regulars sharing pie and stories as a local folk musician strums peacefully. On other nights college-age camp counselors set the tone as a plugged-in hobo rock band howls away.

And once in a while a formally dressed crowd, having just escaped some stuffy gala, or a full wedding party not quite ready for bed, will flood the bar at midnight looking to dance.

I recently returned to the lodge with nine friends, visiting from Brooklyn, for dinner and music. Two of them, dear chums named Nick Nauman and Joel Stillman, are a surf guitar duo called Haussmann, and they were slated as the evening’s entertainment. Given my questionable objectivity, here’s how their night went.

As surely as we all idealize what lies out of reach, I heard the city folk express admiration for the lodge’s many rural trappings: the warm and casual attitude of the front-of-house staff, ample seating options in the music room, the dog that greeted us in the bar but knew to keep out of the dining room.

The Dream Away’s unparalleled aesthetic is also a product of legroom. All the retro signs, framed photos, books, toys, curios, and artifacts that adorn the interior like a scrapbook of 20th -century America’s more colorful culture, would be unthinkable in tight urban quarters. Here they can be viewed from five angles.

The menu elicited a round of "Ooooh"s and plenty of scrutiny. Its ethnic breadth suggested a larger kitchen, and the close-by sourcing of many ingredients was a popular detail. Portions were quite large, so our meal blurred into a potluck after the first few bites.

The former bartender in me grew edgy as some larger tables began to leave for the evening. The musicians decide when to start playing, and I recalled that catching the dinner crowd on their way past the music room door was essential for building a larger audience.

Haussmann quickly made their way to the front of the music room, a spacious former living room with bench seating along three walls and assorted stools and ottomans arranged in between. They stood at the back of the room, framed by an upright piano and a sizzling fire.

Their music was hypnotic, appealing to the people of all ages who spent some time silently listening to Haussmann’s soothing guitar arrangements built on a skeleton of precise arrangement, but softened by harmony and nostalgic reverb.

After a half-hour set the band thanked the audience and started packing up. Osman rushed in and asked them to continue playing. Nick smiled at me and said,

"This is great. In the city everyone tells us to wrap it up quickly."

A few friends grabbed instruments that live at the lodge and joined Haussmann for an extended improvisation. The audience, most of which stayed throughout, applauded loudly at the end.

During the ride home, even the most sheepish had only praise for the Dream Away.