Showing posts with label Dana Gioia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dana Gioia. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Summerday (Dar Williams)


Can't believe it's taken me over a week to get around to posting my review of Dar's show at Eddie's Attic in Atlanta Saturday, August 15 - then again, it's not like I've been sitting around eating bon-bons. In the last nine days, I've driven a 16 ft. Budget rental truck across state lines (686 miles/15 hours from Georgia to Florida), transitioned my youngest child back to college and reclaimed my home from three-months-of-bachelorhood status - then there's my concert series planning, of which I'm woefully behind!

Dar was with the same keyboard player (Bryn, a young man) as last time, as well as a multi-instrumentalist (Jordan, a young woman), and both added lovely embellishment in the form of harmony and musicianship - her setlist spanned her career, and she played a few we don't get to hear that often (Calling the Moon, If I Wrote You, The Hudson). She was funny, she was bright, she was *on* - her husband Michael and son Stephen were there... and Dar announced that Michael is heading out this week to Ethiopia to pick up their newly-adopted daughter (she had told me last November but, since it was said in confidence, as opposed to from the stage this time, I kept quiet...... :-)

Stephen Kellogg (minus the Sixers, who many of us remember from Falcon Ridge a few years ago) was adorable as the opening act and I loved hearing his well-crafted songs in stripped-down singer-songwriter mode - he was only alloted 4 tunes, but he absolutely won over the crowd and appeared to sell a good many CDs at the break between shows!

The Dar show was all I hoped for and more - I had e-mailed through her management earlier that week, requesting Blue Light of the Flame for mom. Dar did a most lovely job, prefacing it with some really sweet words about mom having been there last November "with her smile and her oxygen" - she then dedicated the song to Connie, Susan and her family. She also said some nice things about me and my concert series, but seriously, as soon as she starts talking, my heart begins pounding, the blood rushes to my ears and I can't hear a thing - however, somewhere in there she did say "I love Susan Moss"... I swear!

I adore the fact that Dar's stories are never the same, no matter how many times I've seen her - so entertaining... and it was fun to experience it through Kevin, my sister's boyfriend (as it was his first time seeing her) and Julia, my sister's 12-year-old daughter, who is indeed now The Babysitter...

So... Dar came out for an encore and said, "this is a request from someone who's not here to someone who is here, who I will not name"... and started telling the story of how she sang Over the Rainbow with the New York Gay Men's Chorus a few years ago (telling a funny story about Dorothy's braids vs. pigtails), and did the most gorgeous rendition of the song, adding a "Pete Seeger community inclusive spin" (her words) of "if happy little bluebirds fly, why can't you and I?" - when she finished, she looked right at me and said, "that was from sharon goldberg" (thanks, sharong)...


As we were leaving, I was approached by Carolyn, Dar's tour manager who said, "are you Susan? - Dar wants to see you"... and led us behind a curtain where we could hug and chat - really, it was amazing. I had brought her a book Mari and I had given mom for her 70th birthday... and we both signed it again for Dar - amazing night (and much love and thanks to my sister for reserving the table and allowing me to be their fourth!)...


She wasn't looking
when they took this picture:
sitting on the grass
in her bare feet
wearing a cotton dress,
she stares off to the side
watching something on the lawn
the camera didn't catch.
What was it?
A ladybug? A flower?
Judging from her expression,
possibly nothing at all,
or else
the lawn was like a mirror,
and she sat watching herself,
wondering who she was
and how she came to be there
sitting in this backyard,
wearing a cheap, white dress,
imagining that tomorrow
would be like all her yesterdays,
while her parents chatted
and watched, as I do
years later,
too distantly to interfere.

QUOTE: "Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language." ~ Henry James

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Writing Again (We're About 9)

SONG: Writing Again by We're About 9


POEM: Words by Dana Gioia

The world does not need words. It articulates itself
in sunlight, leaves, and shadows. The stones on the path
are no less real for lying uncatalogued and uncounted.
The fluent leaves speak only the dialect of pure being.
The kiss is still fully itself though no words were spoken.

And one word transforms it into something less or other --
illicit, chaste, perfunctory, conjugal, covert.
Even calling it a kiss betrays the fluster of hands
glancing the skin or gripping a shoulder, the slow
arching of neck or knee, the silent touching of tongues.

Yet the stones remain less real to those who cannot
name them, or read the mute syllables graven in silica.
To see a red stone is less than seeing it as jasper --
metamorphic quartz, cousin to the flint the Kiowa
carved as arrowheads. To name is to know and remember.

The sunlight needs no praise piercing the rainclouds,
painting the rocks and leaves with light, then dissolving
each lucent droplet back into the clouds that engendered it.
The daylight needs no praise, and so we praise it always --
greater than ourselves and all the airy words we summon.

QUOTE: "In the richness of language, its grace, breadth, dexterity, lies its power. To speak with clarity, brevity and wit is like holding a lightning rod." ~ James Salter