Hi everyone out there in the blogsphere!
I want to wish you all happy holidays and THANK YOU, so much, for your support of Swallow Hill and the amazing arts and music community we have in the Front Range.
I've been working "in the scene" since 2005, when my musician husband decided to take the reigns of a band he originally auditioned for. Yes, I was the one working corporate with the skills he needed to get a website going for the new band, then known as U.S. Pipe & the Balls Johnson Dance Machine. Since that time, we dropped the name down to U.S. Pipe, I took over a great deal of PR & management, and then I landed here at Swallow Hill. I've since cut back a bit on my work with U.S. Pipe to devote more to Swallow Hill, and, in 2009, I hope to follow my own passion of writing as well.
I have a real passion for writing AND I have a real passion for GOOD music. Not over-produced commodity crap "music." REAL music. Genuine music. Music that aspires to our highest levels. Music that pokes fun of our lowest levels. Music that is powerful. Music that is fun. Music that makes you realize, even for a short while, humans can be pretty amazing creatures who can create amazing things.
Art, music, poetry, all of it gives us meaning to our lives. I was raised very religiously--and it was a good thing, despite the fact that I will willingly say that I'm not really a proponent of religion. Nonetheless, it gave me a great foundation for an appreciation for the sense of something higher, something significant. To me, in my adulthood, I find that my higher thing is creativity. If I'm writing about a show, or about a wonderfully talented musician, or just about my own musings or in a poetry form, I'm at my best state of being in this world.
Thanks to those of you out there who realize this same passion, who give of your time and money to organizations like Swallow Hill, and who support the artists in our ever-changing community. We need you, they need you, we all need each other. I hope to meet many more of you in 2009 and share great music, art, poetry and overall creativity together!
Laura, aka "Spunky"
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Poem 6: Perhaps This Dream
Perhaps This Dream
i'd imagine it like this:
first, a long ride on a
sunday morning to a place we
never knew existed,
some impish grins,
some joining of curious lips.
i'd taste the berries you
had earlier that morning.
i'd imagine a gentle day/one
in which you could live forever/endless
miles of blue sky that stretch
from inside of your mind, that
blow out with the fresh wind.
we'd lay on the grass
the wildflowers, they'd
tickle our cheeks
i'd have to turn to you to avoid them.
but it would really only be
for the sake of looking at you
copyright 2008, Spunky
i'd imagine it like this:
first, a long ride on a
sunday morning to a place we
never knew existed,
some impish grins,
some joining of curious lips.
i'd taste the berries you
had earlier that morning.
i'd imagine a gentle day/one
in which you could live forever/endless
miles of blue sky that stretch
from inside of your mind, that
blow out with the fresh wind.
we'd lay on the grass
the wildflowers, they'd
tickle our cheeks
i'd have to turn to you to avoid them.
but it would really only be
for the sake of looking at you
copyright 2008, Spunky
Can't sleep! Too giddy.
So I can't seem to feel the need to sleep. It happens from time to time. I have weird sleeping patterns...well, if they can be called patterns.
Tonight I logged into my Swallow Hill email to see one of the artists coming in spring had returned an email of mine requesting a high-res photo for PR use. Sometimes I hear from the actual artists and sometimes I hear from reps. As I'd sent an email to an "info" address, I thought for sure I'd get a web manager or pr contact or some rep/management person but this one came from THE Tommy Ramone.
Yes, Uncle Monk will be coming to Swallow Hill in spring. Tommy Ramone from the legendary punk rock band, The Ramones, is now half of an acoustic, old-time duo. He traded in his punk drums for a mando!
I once again realized how fucking awesome it can be to be me. If you'd told me, as I bopped up and down singing "I Wanna Be Sedated" in my younger years that I'd have any contact whatsoever with anyone having anything to do with any of that, I'd never have believed you.
But now I get to interact with legends, idols of mine, people who make me giddy and somewhat intimidated. I'm like a high school kid with a secret crush!
It's exciting. Sometimes I love being me. I love being able to do what I do in these moments!
Tonight I logged into my Swallow Hill email to see one of the artists coming in spring had returned an email of mine requesting a high-res photo for PR use. Sometimes I hear from the actual artists and sometimes I hear from reps. As I'd sent an email to an "info" address, I thought for sure I'd get a web manager or pr contact or some rep/management person but this one came from THE Tommy Ramone.
Yes, Uncle Monk will be coming to Swallow Hill in spring. Tommy Ramone from the legendary punk rock band, The Ramones, is now half of an acoustic, old-time duo. He traded in his punk drums for a mando!
I once again realized how fucking awesome it can be to be me. If you'd told me, as I bopped up and down singing "I Wanna Be Sedated" in my younger years that I'd have any contact whatsoever with anyone having anything to do with any of that, I'd never have believed you.
But now I get to interact with legends, idols of mine, people who make me giddy and somewhat intimidated. I'm like a high school kid with a secret crush!
It's exciting. Sometimes I love being me. I love being able to do what I do in these moments!
Rosalie was amazing!
Caught GRAMMY NOMINEE Rosalie Sorrels at Swallow Hill for her first set tonight.
I've heard her recordings but never seen her perform in the flesh. She sounded even better than I'd have imagined! Her voice is so beautiful and at times haunting. She's also just a delight of a presence, reminiscing about Bruce (Utah Phillips) and her uncles, the people she knew, the stories behind the songs.
It was great to see such an iconic figure...one of the wondrous things about Swallow Hill is its unparalleled ability to present the wide spectrum of artists who have blazed trails and reached a level of artistry few ever do, as well as seasoned regional acts and the best in up-and-coming performers found in our backyard!
I'm also looking forward to the annual holiday party with the incomparable Clay Kirkland, joined by other amazing Colorado talent, tomorrow night!
I've heard her recordings but never seen her perform in the flesh. She sounded even better than I'd have imagined! Her voice is so beautiful and at times haunting. She's also just a delight of a presence, reminiscing about Bruce (Utah Phillips) and her uncles, the people she knew, the stories behind the songs.
It was great to see such an iconic figure...one of the wondrous things about Swallow Hill is its unparalleled ability to present the wide spectrum of artists who have blazed trails and reached a level of artistry few ever do, as well as seasoned regional acts and the best in up-and-coming performers found in our backyard!
I'm also looking forward to the annual holiday party with the incomparable Clay Kirkland, joined by other amazing Colorado talent, tomorrow night!
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Hand me that Hootenanny!
Hand me that Hootenanny!
by Laura “Spunky” McGaughey
(Originally published in the December, 2008 issue of Pow'r Pickin', the official publication of the Colorado Bluegrass Music Society)
What is a hootenanny and where did it come from?
The word “hootenanny” was used in the early part of the twentieth century to reference items that were forgotten or unknown, along the lines of “thingamajig” or “whatchamacallit.” It was also a country slang term for party. As someone who grew up in rural Kentucky, this origin conjures images of raucous moonshine-driven grinnin’ and pickin’—a hoot of a time!
The word hootenanny barely beat out the word “wingding” to describe the monthly fundraisers for Huge DeLacy’s New Deal political club. In more recent times, the hootenanny has become to be known as a gathering of folk musicians. In numerous interviews, Pete Seeger relates that he first heard the term in Seattle, Wash., in the late 1930s. Folk queen Joan Baez has made the analogy that a hootenanny is to folk singing as a jam session is to jazz.
Gaining popularity in the folk music revival of the 1960s, artists during that time would gather in the West Village of New York City under the flag of the hoot to share their newly written material together as opposed to singing traditional songs. These gatherings struck such a chord that they went from the underground to the mainstream with ABC’s “Hootenanny” program launched in 1963.
Whatever informalities exist or have existed, or whatever your belief may be about whether the hoots really come straight from the backwoods country or from the folksters of the boom generation, the hootenanny is alive and well at Swallow Hill. Indeed, the hoots of Swallow Hill have a history all their own.
When Denver Folklore Center proprietor Harry Tuft opened shop in 1962, he brought the spirit of the West Village to the Mile High City. Denver evolved into a very important music hub as artists traveled across the country from New York to California. It was in Denver they could stop, have a rest, connect with others in the community and even throw their own concerts.
Tuft began hosting hoot gatherings in the Denver Folklore Center on Sunday afternoons, modeling them after the round robins he attended back in the coffeehouses his hometown of Philadelphia. They started out more as sing-a-longs, with Tuft serving as the song leader, and were a great way for him to advertise and promote his store. Julie Davis, who worked with Tuft throughout the years, says that when he established the hoots in the 1960s it was “absolutely magical. The hoots were always packed to the gill, with people sitting in chairs and on the floor. And these people were all connected by the same passion for the music. There were some people who came every time, who just wouldn’t dream of missing it.”
As the popularity of the Denver Folklore Center hootenannies grew, Tuft began hosting them on Friday nights at the Green Spider, a neighboring coffee shop on East Seventeenth, in order to have enough room to accommodate the many attendees. These hoots were more of an open stage-type format, with a pay-or-play fee of 75 cents.
As time went on and Tuft and his Center became more known for the concerts they presented, Swallow Hill was established to serve as a nonprofit entity to both promote the concerts and teach the types of music that were presented through a music school. Operations for both moved to 1905 South Pearl Street and the hoots continued under the Swallow Hill roof within that space on Sunday afternoons.
Times continued to change during the 80s and 90s and the hoots came to an end for a period of time as the Folklore Center closed operations due to financial hardships. Eventually the doors reopened and Swallow Hill itself had grown by leaps and bounds. It was during this time period that Meredith Carson, Swallow Hill’s Concert Director, approached Tuft about reinstating the tradition of the hootenanny.
And so, every first Friday of the month at Swallow Hill in Tuft Theater, Harry the Hoot Master oversees the Old-Fashioned Hootenanny. It’s still proving to be one of the most delightful, community-driven forms of music sharing and entertainment that exists in a modern-day world of high technology and virtual reality. It’s now more of a unique cross between an open stage and a song circle and the people involved run the gamut, from new students gaining experience to established artists who just want to share in the fun.
It’s open to “any kind of amateur,” Tuft smiles. “And the audience is very forgiving.” If someone makes a mistake, there’s no retribution. “It allows people to gain confidence.” The Hoot is a place for people who want to share a song that’s meaningful to them, be it something they just wrote, an old sea shanty, a classic Joni Mitchell song or piano-driven pop. Sometimes others share along in the singing. It’s an open, all-genre, all-instruments welcome atmosphere that’s peppered by puns from Tuft. Indeed, many are attracted to the Hoot because of Tuft’s amazing ability to connect with people and make them feel welcome.
And, as Hoot Master Tuft says, it’s the “least expensive good entertainment in town.” The Hoots are just $3 pay-or-play and, still, packed to the gills.
by Laura “Spunky” McGaughey
(Originally published in the December, 2008 issue of Pow'r Pickin', the official publication of the Colorado Bluegrass Music Society)
What is a hootenanny and where did it come from?
The word “hootenanny” was used in the early part of the twentieth century to reference items that were forgotten or unknown, along the lines of “thingamajig” or “whatchamacallit.” It was also a country slang term for party. As someone who grew up in rural Kentucky, this origin conjures images of raucous moonshine-driven grinnin’ and pickin’—a hoot of a time!
The word hootenanny barely beat out the word “wingding” to describe the monthly fundraisers for Huge DeLacy’s New Deal political club. In more recent times, the hootenanny has become to be known as a gathering of folk musicians. In numerous interviews, Pete Seeger relates that he first heard the term in Seattle, Wash., in the late 1930s. Folk queen Joan Baez has made the analogy that a hootenanny is to folk singing as a jam session is to jazz.
Gaining popularity in the folk music revival of the 1960s, artists during that time would gather in the West Village of New York City under the flag of the hoot to share their newly written material together as opposed to singing traditional songs. These gatherings struck such a chord that they went from the underground to the mainstream with ABC’s “Hootenanny” program launched in 1963.
Whatever informalities exist or have existed, or whatever your belief may be about whether the hoots really come straight from the backwoods country or from the folksters of the boom generation, the hootenanny is alive and well at Swallow Hill. Indeed, the hoots of Swallow Hill have a history all their own.
When Denver Folklore Center proprietor Harry Tuft opened shop in 1962, he brought the spirit of the West Village to the Mile High City. Denver evolved into a very important music hub as artists traveled across the country from New York to California. It was in Denver they could stop, have a rest, connect with others in the community and even throw their own concerts.
Tuft began hosting hoot gatherings in the Denver Folklore Center on Sunday afternoons, modeling them after the round robins he attended back in the coffeehouses his hometown of Philadelphia. They started out more as sing-a-longs, with Tuft serving as the song leader, and were a great way for him to advertise and promote his store. Julie Davis, who worked with Tuft throughout the years, says that when he established the hoots in the 1960s it was “absolutely magical. The hoots were always packed to the gill, with people sitting in chairs and on the floor. And these people were all connected by the same passion for the music. There were some people who came every time, who just wouldn’t dream of missing it.”
As the popularity of the Denver Folklore Center hootenannies grew, Tuft began hosting them on Friday nights at the Green Spider, a neighboring coffee shop on East Seventeenth, in order to have enough room to accommodate the many attendees. These hoots were more of an open stage-type format, with a pay-or-play fee of 75 cents.
As time went on and Tuft and his Center became more known for the concerts they presented, Swallow Hill was established to serve as a nonprofit entity to both promote the concerts and teach the types of music that were presented through a music school. Operations for both moved to 1905 South Pearl Street and the hoots continued under the Swallow Hill roof within that space on Sunday afternoons.
Times continued to change during the 80s and 90s and the hoots came to an end for a period of time as the Folklore Center closed operations due to financial hardships. Eventually the doors reopened and Swallow Hill itself had grown by leaps and bounds. It was during this time period that Meredith Carson, Swallow Hill’s Concert Director, approached Tuft about reinstating the tradition of the hootenanny.
And so, every first Friday of the month at Swallow Hill in Tuft Theater, Harry the Hoot Master oversees the Old-Fashioned Hootenanny. It’s still proving to be one of the most delightful, community-driven forms of music sharing and entertainment that exists in a modern-day world of high technology and virtual reality. It’s now more of a unique cross between an open stage and a song circle and the people involved run the gamut, from new students gaining experience to established artists who just want to share in the fun.
It’s open to “any kind of amateur,” Tuft smiles. “And the audience is very forgiving.” If someone makes a mistake, there’s no retribution. “It allows people to gain confidence.” The Hoot is a place for people who want to share a song that’s meaningful to them, be it something they just wrote, an old sea shanty, a classic Joni Mitchell song or piano-driven pop. Sometimes others share along in the singing. It’s an open, all-genre, all-instruments welcome atmosphere that’s peppered by puns from Tuft. Indeed, many are attracted to the Hoot because of Tuft’s amazing ability to connect with people and make them feel welcome.
And, as Hoot Master Tuft says, it’s the “least expensive good entertainment in town.” The Hoots are just $3 pay-or-play and, still, packed to the gills.
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