| Natalie at Carnegie |
| The concert began at 8 but could I get there in time? . I had worked all day and could not leave till 4:00 PM. But considering I left right as Rush Hour started, I got there in no time - 2 1/2 hours! I was supposed to meet Amanda and have supper with her., but she wasn't feeling well so we didn't get together. I had been hoping to see her before she left for Atlanta, but that was not to be, I suppose. I found a parking lot near Carnegie Hall and walked over to 7th Avenue. The Park Cafe was a great place to eat at 55th and 7th. I dind't feel rushed for time or weird because I was eating alone. The waiter was pleasant and the food good and reasonably priced. It was a great place to people-watch and I saw Natalie's pianist, Allan Dewar, pass by about an hour and a half before the show. At 7 PM I wandered down the street to Carnegie Hall. I had never been there and it was quite a thrill to have that ticket in hand. Formally clad young people clogged the streets surrounding the Hall, obviously performers. I was here for a totally different kind of show tonight! My ticket said "BOX P6, Row C, Seat 13" I had no idea where in the concert hall it was located. The lady at the top of the stairs directed me down the escalator to the next usher, who directed me downward again, and again. "Wait!" I pleaded, "If I go down another level, that's the floor!" "Yes it is," smiled the usher, pointing downward. Mindful that I was standing in the world-famous Carnegie Hall, I tiptoed through the door to the floor and was directed to my seat - right smack in the middle, about 6 rows back from the stage! I could not believe my luck! As I settled into the plush seat, a woman about 10 years younger than I, sat two seats over. "Have you ever seen her?" she asked, "I was here last night and they said she'd put on a great show. So I decided to buy a ticket and was lucky to get this seat today." I assured her that she would LOVE Natalie MacMaster. How could you not? She plays the best fiddle music in the world in a manner that pulls each person into the music and won't let them go. I have seen her do this numerous times and no one ever goes home disappointed. As Zankel Hall filled in slowly, I discovered that I was surrounded by people yet unintiated to the joys of Cape Breton fiddle music. What a boon for Natalie to make all these new fans tonight! Quite a few in front of me were here for Norman Kennedy, who would open for Natalie. I ahd never heard of him but was assured by those who knew, that I would enjoy him. Nice that those assurances could go both ways. I tried not to laugh out loud as I eavesdropped on the conversation of the two New Yorkers behind me. They were not husband and wife, but knew each other's signicant others. The woman had been invited to a fund-raising luncheon for a memorial for Nicole Simpson. I almost guffawed as she explained to her male companion that the lunch was a 7 course meal at a Chinese resaurant where all the waiters were Chinese transvestites. Soon the lights dimmed and an older man with grey hair longer than mine sat on the chair placed mid-stage. I apologize for not taking any photos. I was completely blown away and spent the time listening intently to the stories he wove and ballads he sang. Norman Kennedy began with a comment on the music scene in New Orleans. He had just come from a festival there and assured us that the music scene was alive and well in New Orleans because New Orlens music was made by working folks. Norman stated that ordinary working folk are much bettre at holding things together through tragedy than those born in privilege. |
| He told us that he realized he needed to move to the United States after he had participated in the Newport Folk Festival in 1965 at the invitation of Pete Seegar. He explained to us in the audience that we wouldn't understand what he was going to say next if we had been born here. He said, "I woke up in Newport and smelt freedom. I HAD to be here. I HAD to be free." I really identified with a bit of his life that he shared with us. He said he has songs going through his head all day. That when he wakes in the morning and looks in the mirror, he sings, and that singing continues for most of the day as he works at his weaving, walks around or does whatever. I always have a song in my head, too, and was happy to hear I'm in good company. He sang a waulking song in Gaelic and told about the experience of participating in a waulking party. |
| "Ordinary working folk started the folk song movement," he said in a heavy Scotch brogue. "Folk songs were not sung for entertainment; they were news, gossip, lamentations, family and local history, meant to be shared and added to and passed down." He told about visiting a factory in Scotland when he had a job as a tax collector. He was there to see one of the workers about a problem. As he walked into the huge open room, he was greeted by the sight and sound of workers, performing their very repetitive jobs, singing "We all live in a Yellow Submarine." No sooner had he wrapped his head around that, when one of the woman began the next song to work by, "Barbara Allen." And so he began his 45 minutes on stage with one of the oldest songs in the world, one every school kid learns, "Barbara Allen." He sang unaccompanied, eyes closed, as the audience sat silently taking it all in. His 30-40 years in the US had not lessened his accent any, it seemed to me, but it was pleasant to listen to. When he finished to well-deserved applause, he explained how he had collected versions of that song and others "from Newfoundland to Texas." |
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| Occasionally sipping from a water bottle, he assured us that years ago there would have been vodka in that bottle but tonight it was water. He had just had an operation on his colon 6 weeks ago and wasn't drinking the hard stuff. Boy! He sure mends well! A version of "As I Roved Out" was included in his repertoire and that's when I realised there must be Cape Bretoners in the audience. The FEET were stomping gently as he sang. A song called "Molly Baun" came next and like some Newfoundland folksingers I know, Norman spoke the last line. He regaled us with tales of his life. He is not only a folksinger, but a weaver, a world-renown weaver apparently. We got a glimpse of his socks, which he had woven. It was his 17th pair of socks he had made. Norman spoke a bit of Robbie Burns and all the changes his family's name had taken as they moved around Scotland. It was supposed to be spelled B-U-RN-E-S, he said. And then we sang a Robbie Burns song or two. I said "we." A Norman Kennedy show is not one you watch, it's one you do, like Great Big Sea's show. He taught us choruses in both English and Gaelic and asked us to sing along. He encouraged the feet keeping time with him. The Cape Bretoners needed no invitation. LOL! |
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| "And now for some songs in Scotch," he said. "Many people say Scottish, but us traditionalists prefer 'Scotch'" he explained. He smiled. "English is okay, if that's all you got, but the Gaelic, oh the Gaelic, is beautiful!" I was surprised by his singing the "Drunken Piper." I had only heard it sung by Mary Jane Lamond of Cape Breton. Gotta love Mary Jane for keeping the Gaelic tradition alive and well in Cape Breton. Forty-five minutes never went so fast! He gained quite a few fans, I am sure, and we who were there for Natalie appreciated his love of tradition. Thank you, Norman Kennedy, for a most enjoyable evening. |
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