DAVE VAN RONK
Down in Washington Square: The Smithsonian Folkways Collection
Smithsonian Folkways
folkways.si.edu
Down in Washington Square: The Smithsonian Folkways Collection
Smithsonian Folkways
folkways.si.edu
“Van Ronk could howl and whisper, turn blues into ballads and ballads into blues. I loved his style. He was what the city was all about. In Greenwich Village, Van Ronk was king of the street, he reigned supreme,” wrote Bob Dylan in his memoir, Chronicles: Volume One.
The late, great Dave Van Ronk (1936-2002) was one of my
teachers. I never took a guitar lesson from him but I learned a lot from him
about the history of music – about Bessie Smith, Jelly Roll Morton, Furry
Lewis, Bertolt Brecht and many other seminal figures, and about a Greenwich
Village scene that was happening about a dozen years or so before I first got
there.
I first met
Dave sometime around 1970 when he played at the short-lived Back Door Coffee
House in Montreal. He was more than gracious in chatting with the teenaged me
and in answering any and all the questions that this fascinated kid could throw
at him. He also pointed me in some interesting directions in music to listen
to.
A few years
later, an actual friendship developed when we’d meet regularly at folk
festivals, on trips that I took to New York City in the mid-‘70s to early-‘80s,
and on his trips to Montreal to play at the Golem, the Montreal folk club I ran
in the ‘70s and ‘80s.
I spent a
few late nights sitting on Dave’s couch in New York, and a few more when
he sat on my couch in Montreal, as we listened to music, talked about music and
occasionally argued about politics.
More than the history of music, Dave taught me how to listen
to music – I mean really listen to
music. How to give the music I was listening
to the attention it deserved. I remember one night in the 1980s when he was
staying with me during a visit to Montreal to play at the Golem, he made me listen to a Lester Young solo on an LP that I
had over and over again until I fully understood and appreciated some point
Dave wanted me to understand about the solo.
Dave’s last visit to Montreal was in 1998 to play the
Montreal International Jazz Festival and we used that visit as an opportunity
to sit down and do an extensive interview for the Folk Roots/Folk Branches
radio program. I was very proud to see that interview credited as one of the
sources Elijah Wald drew on when he completed The Mayor of MacDougal Street,
Dave’s posthumously published memoir. The new Coen Brothers film, Inside Llewyn
Davis, which comes out in December, is a fictional story inspired by the book.
And, of course, I also learned so much watching Dave perform
and from listening to his recordings. I still go back and listen often to the
recordings from across his career. The new 3-CD collection, Down in Washington
Square: The Smithsonian Folkways Collection, includes all of the tracks from
Dave’s Folkways albums from 1959 and 1961 as well as other rarities and
unreleased recordings from that period, and before, and from other periods,
including his full set from a 1997 Wolf Trap concert honoring the reissue of
Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music, and some final studio
recordings made shortly before he died while undergoing treatment for colon
cancer.
Most of the first two discs are devoted to the songs that
Dave recorded for Folkways back in the day – for his first two solo LPs, Dave
Van Ronk Sings Ballads, Blues & a Spiritual (1959) and Dave Van Ronk Sings
(1961), and three sea shanties he sang lead on as part of the Foc’sle Singers,
a group organized by Paul Clayton to record Foc’sle Songs and Shanties (1959).
These Folkways recordings have been re-mastered and re-sequenced
giving them a fresh, revitalized feel. Among the many highlights are Dave’s
definitive versions of “Duncan and Brady,” a traditional murder ballad marking the
real-life 1890 shooting of policeman James Brady by bartender Harry Duncan in a
St. Louis saloon; Mississippi John Hurt’s “Spike Driver Blues,” a version of
the John Henry legend; several tracks including “Gambler’s Blues (St. James
Infirmary),” Jelly Roll Morton’s “Sweet Substitute” and “Winin’ Boy” and “Just
a Closer Walk With Thee,” that show Dave’s facility for arranging New Orleans
jazz tunes for voice and guitar; several folk classics like “John Henry,” “Tell
Old Bill” and the beautiful “Dink’s Song.”
Although, Dave himself professed not to like the song, I
still enjoy hearing Dave’s original composition, “River Come Down,” which
became known as “Bamboo” on Peter, Paul and Mary’s first LP, and he acquits
himself most credibly as an a cappella shanty man on “Haul On the Bowline,” “Santy
Ano” and “Leave Her Johnny.”
Among the previously unreleased tracks on the second CD are concert
versions of “Mean Old Frisco (1961), “Stackalee (1961), “Ain’t No Grave Can
Hold My Body Down (1958)” and Dave’s impressive arrangement of “House of the
Rising Sun (1961),” an arrangement Dylan lifted and famously recorded on his
first LP before Dave had had a chance to record it himself.
Most of the third CD is devoted to previously unreleased or
rare live recordings from the 1950s, ‘60s, ‘80s and ‘90s. Some of the earlier
material, like the blues standard “Trouble in Mind (1958),” Reverend Gary Davis’
“Oh Lord, Search My Heart (1958)” and his beautiful interpretation of Billie
Holiday’s “God Bless the Child (1963)” show a depth of arrangement at a young
age that few artists ever achieve (and Dave’s depth of arrangement continued to
deepen over the course of his career).
While Dave was never a prolific songwriter, he was a great
one, and there are versions of some of my favorite Van Ronk originals including
“Losers (1988),” a clever spoof of all who take themselves too seriously, and “Another
Time and Place (1982),” one of the most beautiful love songs I’ve ever heard. I
remember being stunned by it at the Golem – probably also sometime in 1982 –
when Dave introduced it as a brand new song.
The third CD also includes the marvelous four-song set Dave
performed in 1997 at the Wolf Trap concert honoring the reissue of the Anthology of American Folk Music. Compare those 1997 versions of “Spike Driver’s
Blues” and “St. James Infirmary (Gambler’s Blues)” to the ones from almost four decades earlier to to see what I mean about the
continuous deepening of his arrangements over the years.
And it’s a real treat to hear the final five songs in the
set – previously unreleased solo studio tracks he recorded in 2001, just months before
he passed away: “Ace in the Hole,” which he’d recorded in the early-‘60s with
the Red Onion Jazz Band;” the blues standard “Going Down Slow”; “Jelly Jelly”
and “Sometime (Whatcha Gonna Do),” which he drew from the singing of Josh
White; and an exquisitely beautiful version Dylan’s “Buckets of Rain.”
Along with annotated song information, the album booklet
includes a lovely introduction by Andrea
Vuocolo, Dave’s widow, and an essay by
Jeff Place of Smithsonian Folkways, who compiled the set.
Although about two-thirds of the 54 tracks in this collection
were already on my shelves, the fact that they’ve never sounded as good as they
do here plus all the magnificent tracks that were previously unreleased, add up
to making Down in Washington Square, one of the most essential releases of the
year.
It’s been more than a decade now since Dave passed away and
he’s missed greatly. I’m honored to say “he was a friend of mine.”
--Mike Regenstreif
Very nice piece Mike-
ReplyDeleteSpot on-
He played guitar in a style all his own
Coming outta alla them various traditions.
If my memry serves, he was the soundtrack for
A rather bizarre scene at The Ol' Karma
involving A drunken comedian,
a quart of beer
and the famous wet raincoat of L. Cohen-
Nice nice piece Mike-
Thanks-
campbell
Thanks Campbell. Your memory, indeed, serves. It was circa 1973 when that incident happened. I got smacked by the comedian on his way into the Karma about two seconds or so before he got to L. Cohen.
ReplyDeleteAnother story you'll appreciate Campbell:
I was home one night when Kate called. She said they were in the studio with Emmylou and wanted to record "Green Green Rocky Road," but no one knew the words. This was before the days when you could Google such things. So I took out a Van Ronk album, transcribed the lyrics and faxed them to Kate at the studio.
Thanks for the memories, Mike. I recall seeing Dave in those Village coffee houses, sometimes as the opening act. I've never forgotten the effect of his version of "Clouds," which we later learned was "Both Sides, Now," by Joni Mitchell. Amazing.
ReplyDelete