Week 8: Mississippi John Hurt

My first thought on this week's music is that Tony's singing and guitar finger-picking style of playing sounds so much like Mississippi John Hurt's! And indeed, when I later asked him about it, Tony said that he derived his whole style of playing from this musician.  This week's theme gave me such a happy jolly feeling from hearing the music of the songster tradition. It sounds so lighthearted and playful-- for example, "You Are My Sunshine" sounds so happy when the audience is singing along and the chords are syncopated and everyone sounds like a community singing as a chorus. I also really enjoyed Richland Woman Blues, Make Me a Pallet on the Floor, and Beulah Land (this actually sounds a bit like This Little Light of Mine).

This week's drawing I won't put up online, because I feel like it is still a work in progress. This was the week where I drew a bird flying into the air, inspired by "Since I've Laid This Burden Down." Tony thought it was an angel flying through the sky, and there were some mixed feelings about it tonight. So I won't put it up now, but later on I will work on it a little more, or maybe start something anew. Anyway, the message I was trying to send through the theme of the bird was in line with the feeling of letting go of a burden and feeling light enough to fly. Another song I'd like to comment on from this week is "Beulah Land." Tony told us the story of how when his brother passed, someone sang this song to him and it was the perfect song to sing in a time like that. When I heard that, I really felt touched by the significance this song could have on Tony, and later on when we sang it all together and I read the lyrics with closer scrutiny, I really cherished the power of the song even more. It is both sad and sweet, but most importantly very optimistic. Hurt sings about having a mother, father, and sister all up in Beulah Land, and to me I feel like he's saying how they are in a better place, somewhere that "outshines the sun," and soon you'll be able to see them again. It puts a softer tone to the subject of death, and it really has a healing effect on the person who is experiencing the loss to think of a loved one's passing as going somewhere better and happier. It is songs like these that remind me of how important music is to our lives, and how it brings healing and meaning that no words alone could bring to us.

Barbara Allen

For all the man ever wanted and all that he could never have was Barbara Allen herself. 

Banks of the Ohio

A woman's death at the hands of a twisted loved one- Banks of the Ohio is a murder ballad that keeps me thinking about the lost life of a woman whose voice was barely ever heard. Here I try to focus on the story of the murdered woman by depicting her death in a morbidly graceful way, almost in an attempt to dignify her decease and honor the life that could have been.

Amazing Grace

This song is a song of redemption, when a wretched soul is saved from itself. This song gives me feelings of hope and sadness at the same time, knowing that the subject in the song has found the light now but has once gone through much pain. Tony used the word 'stasis' to describe these two figures, and I think that word is used perfectly. I think the figure in these drawings have found their peace.

Appalachia

When I went to google the word "Appalachia," I didn't expect the image and feeling of it to be so desolate. Perhaps it is just the selection of images that Google decided to display, but it's painted a strong image of poverty and dreariness in my head. But I also wanted to look at pictures of people, not just places, and seeing images of the inhabitants and their culture and lifestyle reminded me that what constitutes a good life for somebody is always subjective and relative. I might imagine life in Appalachia as unfavorable and unbearable, but the people who were born there, grew up there, and knew of nowhere else but there, may very well be completely satisfied. And maybe in that environment is what people need to find the purest forms of joy, like creating folk music that is so renowned in the cultural world today.

Will the Circle Be Unbroken is meant to be an uplifting song, whereas The Banks of the Ohio is disturbing and morally perturbing. When I first heard the latter, I didn't pay close attention to the lyrics; it wasn't until I was listening to Ollie Gilbert's raw voice, unembellished by instruments, that I fully registered the narrative of that song. I was first pretty aghast at the lyrics depicting a man pushing his girl into the river and watching her drown. When I took a closer look at the context and chorus, it actually reminded me a little of You Are My Sunshine; both songs have this quality of possessiveness over the subject, the significant other. A twisted show of love, or maybe infatuation, all the way to the point of psychotic. So like how Lida pointed out a couple weeks ago that there is a tone of senselessness and ignorance in You Are My Sunshine, The Banks of Ohio seems to take it further many notches and delivers a full blown account of demented passion and disturbing shows of love. Yet, I found it so fascinating listening to all the different versions and the different feelings they elicited. Johnny Cash's voice really brought out the remorseful tone of the song, while Dolly Parton gave a more catchy performance of the narrative. The one line, "my love don't murder me, I'm not prepared for eternity" really gives me the chills. Will the Circle Be Unbroken by the Carter family sounds more upbeat and lighthearted while Clarence Ashley and Doc Watson's sounds more melancholy and longing. The Carter family version is singsong and I can imagine the family sitting around singing this as a bonding song while everyone is happily playing their instruments and singing together. Ashley and Watson's version sounds like the singer is singing about a remorseful past, reminiscent, and heartfelt. This version sounds more like a front porch performance- authentic and sentimental. Carter family's version sounds more like a singalong stage performance, one that invites audiences to chime along. 

Ollie Gilbert definitely epitomizes the 'front porch' sound. She is completely unedited and her voice is so candid and unaffected. Somehow, that also translates to a feeling of irreverence from her, like she really couldn't care less about how she sounds or what others think of her. While I can more or less bear Ollie Gilbert's crude-ish voice, I found it harder to sit through Jean Ritchie's "Cuckoo." I guess something about her voice is a little too shrill for my ears, but that's just my personal opinion. I like how she looks like she's lost in song while she sings and plays though. 

Oh Mary Don't You Weep

This week's theme song, Oh Mary Don't You Weep, made me think a lot about religion and the impact it has on people and their lives. I never grew up with religion of my own, and as a child I had never thought about the concept of religion or devotion even though I had grown up with biblical references and religious people all around me. It wasn't until I got older, into my teenage years, when I began to understand religion more than a simple term being thrown around, and finally as an actual belief and practice with the power to change a person's entire outlook on their world.
It seems almost like a fairytale to me, because I love hearing about religion and I love learning about religion but I don't know what is like to experience religion. And that is a gap between my head and my heart that I'm not sure what to do about, because the thought of pursuing religion has not settled in with me yet.

But when I see practices of religion, I am intrigued. I am enraptured in trying to understand what it must feel like to have such complete devotion to a divine entity that is not there, in front of you to touch, but that something that is intangible yet all so powerful. It boggles my mind! Like a paradox or a riddle I can't get to solving because I don't put my pencil down on it. But even amidst my personal contemplations about religion and what it can mean to a person, I still am able to become so moved by the voices of Gospel singers when they deliver their hymns. The sentiments and power I get out of listening to song is the closest glimpse I have to experiencing the divine.

Lomax words it perfectly:
"Anyone who has visited a rural Negro church, where the congregation sings from the heart instead of out of hymn-books, cannot fail to have been touched by the fire, the solemn dignity, the grand simplicity of the Negro spirituals."

It describes what I feel so perfectly when I hear the voices of Gospel singers. They sing from the heart and the soul-- and every time they do I am touched by their spirit even as a stranger to their religion and customs. I love the way the can completely change the way I feel about the song just from the style they sing in. I love Swan Silvertones' jazzy, bluesy rendition that makes me fill with upbeat joy, then Leadybelly's version sounds like a campfire singalong song with his jaunty vocals and instrument (same with Pete Seeger's cheerful country banjo tune), and Inez Andrews who translate her deep love and devotion straight through her hearty, strong voice. Though I enjoyed listening to Swan Silvertone most, Inez Andrews and the Andrewnettes take my breath away the most. She begins her song with the line "I'm just so glad that the Lord love me" and it makes me wonder how she must experience her world with such a strong foundation of love and support from God.

For one thing, I hope that whatever I say, I do not make it sound offensive-- because that is by no means anything I mean. The song Oh Mary Don't You Weep is a slave song that is imbued with hope and resistance and culture and history-- it is full of healing power and is a symbol of liberation that goes way back into time. The significance of the song is that it can bridge the gap between the past and the present, telling the story of pain and freedom that is understood through all ages.