Wesleyan Alumna

The Honesty Room

Corrections or additions?

Author: Richard Skelly. Published in U.S. 1 Newspaper on January

26, 2000. All rights reserved.

Dar Williams, Eyes Open, Singing for Peace

Just five years ago, singer-songwriter Dar Williams

was booking herself around the U.S., playing every dusty coffee house

in every corner of the lower 48. Now Williams is too big an act for

most coffee houses, and her tour stops in 1997 and 1998 included

places

like McCarter Theater, the Beacon Theater and Town Hall in Manhattan,

and other large concert halls.

Dar Williams and Cheryl Wheeler share the limelight at the Coalition

for Peace Action’s 16th annual Concert for Peace at Nassau

Presbyterian

Church on Saturday, January 29, at 8 p.m. At press time, the two top

folk artists had already sold out the house, right up to the balcony.

What qualities separate the 32-year-old Dar Williams from the herd

of singer-songwriters out there in the late 1990s, a group that will

only grow larger in this first decade of this new century?

She writes good songs, for one thing, and has the ability to tell

great, detail-packed stories in three and four-minute time frames.

Add to this mix a pleasant, at-times whispery voice and adequate

guitar

skills, and you’ve got all the makings of the next Joni Mitchell.

Williams has three albums: "The Honesty Room," a 1993 release

on the tiny Waterbug label; "Mortal City," a 1996 release

on Razor & Tie Music; and "End of The Summer," a 1997 release

also on Razor & Tie. A lot has happened to Williams in the last five

years, including the chance to share concert hall stages with Joan

Baez, one of her primary influences, as well as the chance to work

with Richard Shindell and Lucy Kaplansky in a folk trio they call,

Cry, Cry, Cry.

Another key factor that separates Williams from the common lot of

singer-songwriters is her lack of aloofness. She gets glowing reviews

in the press because she doesn’t take herself too seriously onstage.

She jokes with her audiences. She also gets good press because she

makes time for all her interview requests and stays after shows to

chat with her fans. It’s a hard-learned lesson for some performers,

but many just don’t have the time — for whatever reason —

to sign autographs and talk to fellow folk enthusiasts after their

shows.

Asked about the high points of her busy, five-year climb from grungy

bars and basement coffee houses to theater shows, Williams says that

opening for Joan Baez was certainly important. But more often, it’s

one-on-one interaction with fans that leaves a lasting impression.

"Usually, it’s a small thing, it’s that moment when somebody says,

`My teenager locks herself in her room, and I hear your music coming

out.’ Or there’s someone who’s dealing with clinical depression and

she says hearing one of my songs is her basis `for coming back from

all this.’"

"I’m not saying all of this to be a Polyanna," she stresses,

"it’s just true. Working with Joan Baez in 1996 was just a dream.

It was great, and as it was happening I realized how incredible it

was."

But for Williams, the spiritual touching of other people

that goes on through her songs is more important than the co-bills

at fancy venues with Baez.

"It is an honor to work with her and you learn a lot from working

with people that you really admire," she explains, "and I’ve

been able to travel a lot. One of the jokes I make from the stage

is people say how impressed they are that I’ve been to Alaska. But

if you can’t appreciate Connecticut, you’re not gonna appreciate

Alaska.

If your eyes aren’t open to begin with, you’re not gonna be able to

appreciate the big stuff."

Top Of Page
Wesleyan Alumna

Williams was raised in a musical family in Chappaqua, New York, in

Westchester County. Both her parents loved the folk music and

folk-rock

of the 1960s and ’70s. Her father was an editor for an educational

publishing company and her mother volunteered and then worked for

Planned Parenthood before becoming a full-time grandmother recently.

Williams has two sisters, both older than she is. She wrote poetry

as a kid, taking her cues from singer-songwriters like Joni Mitchell,

Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, Phil Ochs, and Joan Armatrading.

After graduating from Wesleyan College, she moved to western

Massachusetts,

outside Northampton, where she has been ensconced ever since.

Her career began to blossom after a showcase at the North American

Folk Alliance conference, held in Boston in 1994. Recalling the gigs

she was able to scrounge up in bars and coffee houses in 1992,

Williams

says she knew she wanted to pursue the life of a traveling musician.

"I knew then what I would be doing now, but of course the nature

of it is that you can’t know how it will turn out and that’s what

makes it so great."

Recalling those first few professional gigs in 1991 and 1992, Williams

says she remembers how she idolized Cheryl Wheeler. "I loved her

album, `Circles and Arrows.’ I had this fantasy that someday I could

sing with her on stage," she explains, "I recall thinking,

`God, wouldn’t that just be the ultimate?’"

Three years ago, Wheeler and Williams appeared together on a

songwriters-in-the-round

show at the Bottom Line nightclub in lower Manhattan.

"I requested a song for Cheryl to sing and she was in a really

sad mood. It was before the second show and I knew she was in a really

sad mood, and I said, `God, why did I request this song? She should

sing whatever she wants.’ So I sang with her, and it was sort of a

way of distracting her. I added this harmony on it and she turned

to me after she finished, and said, `Hey, that was great.’ And this

is very much in the same vein as fans who tell me how a song on one

of my albums touched them," she explains.

"I realized, I made her feel less depressed. Later on, I also

realized I had sung on stage with Cheryl Wheeler," she says.

Williams says that at some gigs in 1991 and 1992 in

New England there were six people at a bar to see her perform. How

did she find inspiration with so few people?

"Inevitably, almost 100 percent of the time, the gig turned out

to be better than I expected," she recalls, "so that by the

end of the evening, people were offering me beer and cigarets. There

would always be some funny story or some funny thing a person would

do that was really kind or perceptive. I learned to build low

expectations,

and that was good!"

Top Of Page
The Honesty Room

Everything began to change rapidly for Williams in 1994, after her

record "The Honesty Room" was released. Through 1994, 1995,

1996, and 1997, she was performing upwards of 150 shows a year,

touring

internationally and doing every interview she was asked to do on radio

and for the print media.

Not surprisingly, some of the songs that appear on Williams’ latter

two albums for Razor & Tie Music were composed on the road. Only

recently

has she scaled back her performance schedule. In 1998, she performed

120 shows; in 1999, she did 100 shows.

"Last year, for the first time, I was able to spend a lot more

time at home," she says, "and the only thing I learned on

the road is that it just doesn’t end. Also, while you’re on the road,

you can become sort of dead to the world. You can become so numb that

you treat it like a job you hate. It became important to me to find

ways to keep my mind open and to get past the stuff that upset me

— and to stay open to inspiration for songs."

Williams recalls the sense of awe she felt the first time she saw

Mount Shasta in California’s Cascade mountains.

"Every time I saw it, you would think you would just write a song

right there, it’s such an incredible sight," she says. "You’d

think that something would just come spilling out of you. Sometimes

it did and sometimes it didn’t. Cities tend to remind me of people

and people tend to remind me of cities. If a person reminds you of

Detroit, you’ll have a good metaphor to work with."

But after spending more of 1999 at home than on the road, Williams

realized being home was just as complex in a lot of ways. Fortunately,

for fans, one thing that’s not all that complex for Williams any

longer

is the business of performing. She’s become a master at pacing her

sets, throwing in humorous anecdotes from her travels, and she has

learned from her experiences on the road with veterans like Shindell

and Kaplansky.

"The idea that the spirit will move you from song to song is a

little more trust than we should really put in the universe on

stage,"

she says, laughing.

"It’s important to bring new ideas and thoughts into your

shows."

she explains. "It’s great if someone in the audience comes up

with a suggestion, or if something weird happens. It’s good not to

be so stuck on your set list that you can’t respond when these weird

and special things happen."

— Richard J. Skelly

Concert for Peace in the Millennium, Coalition for

Peace Action , Nassau Presbyterian Church, Nassau Street,

609-924-5022.

The 16th annual concert features Dar Williams and Cheryl Wheeler.

Concert $15 to $35; patrons $60 & $100. Saturday, January 29, 8

p.m.


Previous Story Next Story


Corrections or additions?


This page is published by PrincetonInfo.com

— the web site for U.S. 1 Newspaper in Princeton, New Jersey.

Facebook Comments