Mary Travers, RIP

House Concert with Amy Dixon-Kolar

Last night we were delighted to attend a house concert featuring Amy Dixon-Kolar at the home of Mary and Randy Charles in Kennebunk, Maine.

Though I have known Amy through the ezFolk.com music site for a couple years, this was the first time I met her in person. It was more like seeing an old friend after a long time. Hugs and onversation came easily.

Amy's concert was a delight. Not only does she have an exceptional voice, but her musicianship is outstanding. Each song is a complete arrangement, as her guitar provides bassline, harmony, counterpoint, and call-and-response to her stirring vocals. She is expert at modulating volume and attack to give her music even more expresson and variety.

Amy started her set with Now it's Time, a song to which I personally relate:

The music never died
It was just buried alive
But now it's time for a resurrection
Now it's time

Next came Morning Quiet, a haunting gem that is a personal favourite.

Amy proceeded to delight us with a selection of widely varied offerings, including some blues, traditional songs, and covers, as well as her own superbly crafted originals. She ended her first set with her anthem to change and hope, Rosa Sat. In the tradition of Pete Seeger, she taught us the song and had us all singing along - a moving moment indeed!

Amy's concert was a real treat, as she demonstrated not only superb musicianship but also a great stage presence and a fine feel for entertaining her audience. We are blessed to have had her come to our area.

After the concert we had a little more conversation and hugs and posed for pictures. It was great to see my old friend!

Thank you, Amy, and thank you Mary and Randy.

ezFolk: An interview with Tony Provencher 8.14.09

Yours truly is the subject of this week's artist interview by Holley Hall on ezFolk.com

ezFolk: An interview with Tony Provencher 8.14.09
Source: ezfolk.com
Free MP3 and video hosting for folk and acoustic artists.

Thank you, Holley.

Rest in Peace, Dad

Dear friends,

Dad passed away early this morning.

I made this little poem for him recently:

Mother's Garden

Please keep him in your hearts and your prayers, and wish him safe journey.

Peace,
Tony

Happy Groundhog Day!

Ma Normandie et Moi

Below is an excerpt from a page in my new website, Ma Normandie dedicated to the song, Ma Normandie, by Frédéric Bérat, and the charming countryside that provided its inspiration:

Ma Normandie et Moi

This is a story of gifts. It all started some years ago, when my parents gifted me with a compact disc album, Vive la Normandie, by Émilio Corfa. I was very much taken with the beauty of the song, Ma Normandie. My mother was from Normandy, and I was born there. I loved visiting my Normandy, and had made a few stabs at making a song that would convey my love for this land, but with little success. The project was still on the back burner. When I heard Corfa's rendition of Ma Normandie, my quest was over. I knew that any attempt on my part to make another song like this masterpiece by Frédéric Bérat would pale by comparison. My new quest would be to make this song my own.

A few years later, my parents gifted me with an Appalachian dulcimer that they had picked up at a flea market. It was a sweet-sounding instrument with reasonably accurate intonation. Though I had never played the ducimer before, I was familiar with it from my college days, hanging around with my fellow 'folkies' and swapping songs between classes. Later, the popular Rhode Island folk duo, Atwater-Donnelly cemented my love and respect for the instrument. In short order I taught myself some playing techniques, and before long was working on an arrangement for Ma Normandie. When I thought I felt comfortable enough, I set out to unveil it in public.

I decided to debut the song at an open-mic in nearby Londonderry, New Hampshire. I invited my parents without telling them anything about my repertoire for the evening. I wanted to surprise them with a gift of the song they had given me on the instrument they had given me. I can't explain why -- perhaps, because it meant a lot to me -- but I found myself suffering from a terrible case of nerves that night. When it came my turn to play, I sat on the stage with my dulcimer in my lap, looked down at my dulcimer, and felt like I had never seen this instrument before. I was staring at a foreign fingerboard of fleeting frets. I managed to find a note here and there, and avoided striking any wrong notes, but I sang the song mostly a capella. The audience was polite, and my parents were appreciative, but I felt that my gift was inadequate.

A couple of months later, my wife and I attended the Rhode Island Old-Time Music Festival in Pawtucket, two days of banjo, dulcimer, and old-time music workshops, hosted by Aubrey Atwater, and featuring the great Jean Ritchie. On the evening of the first day, we had a round-robin, and I chose Ma Normandie. When my turn came around, I stepped up to the 'hot' seat right in front of Aubrey. Jean Ritchie was not in attendance, but I was still, once again, feeling overcome by nerves. With Aubrey over my left shoulder, I introduced the song, dedicated it to my mother, explained my nerves, and proceeded to play. This time it was magic. My trembling fingers did their job; my voice rang out pure and clear, if somewhat quavery, and the audience fell silent. When I came to the instrumental break, I heard the audience quietly humming along, and on the crescendo of the final verse, the audience came forth, humming and harmonising. As the last note faded, I heard Aubrey whisper, "Wow!"

Many congratulations, comments, and questions about the song followed. My wife pointed out that one young woman in the corner of the room had been brought to tears. This young woman, Bernadette came up to me and asked if I had a recording of the song, or if I would make a recording for her. We were invited to a get-together at Aubrey and Elwood's the next day. There Bernadette trotted out an old cassette recorder, and had me sing and record the song for her. Then Jean Ritchie came into the room, and Bernadette had me play the song for her -- A command performance for Jean Ritchie! -- Jean commented what a sweet song it was, and complimented me on my performance. My gift was worthy.

The following Spring, I visited my Normandy for the first time in thirty years, and found her beauty undiminished. It would be my mother's last visit in this life. She passed away in August of that year. We would return to Normandy the following year to spread her ashes in her beloved waters in the bay of the Mont-Saint-Michel. At her funeral I sang and played Ma Normandie for her. The gift was complete.

Autumn's Child

Autumn is upon us once again -- my favourite time of year.

I've created a new musical slideshow to celebrate:

You will need Windows Media Player to view slideshow.FREE DOWNLOAD HERE

Enjoy!

Homesick

This Tuesday, (May 1st.,) my father and my sister, Betty, are leaving for a couple of weeks in France to visit relatives and the place of departure of my mother's ashes in 'ma Normandie'.

Judy and I are staying behind, this year, to give our exhausted budget a chance to recover... but I sure am feeling homesick!

To help assuage my homesickness -- and to share 'ma Normandie' with you -- I have created this musical video slideshow:

Ma Normandie
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A Song for Earth Day

Some time ago, Kelly Hamel, a friend and fellow member of 'The Cowpasture Collective', which ran the Canal Street Coffeehouse and published the Merrimack Valley Progressive, wrote this poem. I was moved to make it into a song - a song for Earth Day:

If the River Could Speak

poem by Kelly Hamel
music by Tony Provencher

If the river could speak
of its worries and woes,
we would hear angry tears
in the sadness that flows.

If the meadow could speak
with a voice of its own,
we'd hear tell about people
who have hearts made of stone.

If the forests could scream
like a jet through the sky,
we would shudder with fear
as they toppled and died.

If the wind called your name,
as it sobbed through the trees,
and asked for your voice,
would you silently leave?

If the ocean turned red
from the blood of the earth,
would you still wash your hands
of the blame?

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Q: What shall we do with a drunken sailor? A: Put him at the wheel of an Exxon Tanker...

Well, it took a while, but I finally recorded and uploaded this song, and am dedicating it, as promised to my nephew, Jeremy, and his wife, Michelle, who have embarked on a sail of the South Pacific, as part of a planned circumnavigation of the globe.

Stories and photos of their escapades can be viewed HERE

So -- Jeremy and Michelle, (and the wee tar in the hold,) -- This song is dedicated to you:

Drunken Sailor

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Lyrics