Hear ye, year ye?

Hear In Rhode Island's high-quality showcase

by Bob Gulla

John Fuzek

It's tough to pick out a songwriter. They don't have any distinguishing characteristics or physical "tells" to call attention to themselves like, say, an actor would (tight ponytail), a dancer (happy feet), or even a musician (scraggly goatee) . . . A songwriter might be the guy who looks at you funny on the bus or the woman who peers at you around the cereal endcap down the cracker aisle at the grocery store. A songwriter might be the guy staring at the computer screen in the cubicle next to yours, or the one who takes your order at the pizza place, or maybe the guy who cuts your neighbor's lawn. They're people searching for details, scouring the horizon for inspiration, motivation, maybe even salvation through music. Yeah, songwriters are everywhere. And a good bunch of them showed up at India Point Park last weekend for the Hear In Rhode Island Festival.

In its sixth year, the Hear In is a two-day celebration of local music and local songwriting. From its rather larval beginnings earlier this decade, the Festival has grown into a truly worthwhile summertime event, with a crack organizing team -- led by Festival coordinator John Fuzek -- ensuring thus. Not only that, the Hear In presents overwhelming evidence that the art of songwriting in Rhode Island and southern New England is in hale condition indeed.

"We must have received over 200 [demo] tapes," says Fuzek on a park slope overlooking his Saturday gathering. "Some we eliminated right away, but it's becoming more and more competitive to get a slot here every year." More competition for slots means better music on stage, which was exactly what happened on both days of this year's Hear In.

Saturday featured some excellent surprises. The 11-member ViZion blew early onlookers away with hair-raising harmonies and soul-stirring performance. Singer-songwriter and local hero Hurricane admitted she'd rather write about things like love and happiness than some of the more sobering topics you hear on the radio, which makes her anomalous on the folk circuit. Flanked by two harmony vocalists/guitarists, she proved you could write "feelgood" stuff and still captivate. Though damned if I could figure out amid all the smiles and pleasantry why she goes by such a violent sobriquet.

It was great to see Chick Graning. Providence's answer to Kurt Cobain, Graning, in from Brooklyn, seemed to enjoy singing to the receptive, sunlight withered crowd. Better, one would imagine, than playing amid the slithery black walls of CB's Gallery in the Bowery. He even reached back for a Scarce tune, "Glamourising Cigarettes" for old time's sake. Bob Kendall popped up next, another welcome sight. Formerly of the beloved but short-lived post-punkers Lifeboat, then of cowpunkers Blood Oranges, Kendall blended folk, Bakersfield country, and roots rock to excellent effect, helped in large part by Jake Guralnick's way-cool guitar sounds.

Kristin Hersh closed the day on Saturday, a coup for Fuzek and a real draw considering the slight crowd almost doubled to see her. Supported by longtime drummer Dave Narcizo on bass, keyboardist Robert Rust, and former Belly guitarist Tom Gorman on bass, Hersh scratched and clawed through a handful of lean, provocative rockers, presumably from her upcoming Sky Motel, proving that gentle, insightful songwriters need not be confined to a battered acoustic guitar.

Sunday presented another day of surprises, though space prohibits me from mentioning them all. Existentialist folksinger Spogga handed down from the stage some intriguing food for thought, as did Berklee grad and first-rate writer Jonathan Stark and the sharp, LA-based duo Dogwood Moon. It wouldn't have been a local fest without Pendragon aboard as they livened the audience with reels and jigs of far-flung origin. Also heroes of the local sort, Mark Cutler, Bill Petterson, Mary Ann Rossoni, and the Phoenix's Best Local Folk Act the Fourth Street String Band all showed well, as expected.

Underground folk legend Jack Hardy closed the day in classic singer-songwriter fashion. The 30-year vet of New York City's folk scene, Hardy publishes Fast Folk magazine and has established himself on the folk circuit in part by coordinated song swaps in the city, songwriting workshops, actually, boasting alums like Shawn Colvin, Lyle Lovett, and John Gorka. Ask him to tell you about the time he carried politico-folkie (and drunkard) Phil Ochs home on his back after a show . . . .

Hear In was co-sponsored by another important Rhode Island non-profit, RISA, or the Rhode Island Songwriters Association. Led by co-chairs Deb Dovale and Dave Fontaine, RISA (their mantra: "Education, information, collaboration, performance") featured stellar performers on both days. An In the Round session on Saturday, for example, spotlighted the work of Mary Day, Jan Luby, and Joyce Katzberg. All three know their way around a folk song, and all three demonstrate wit, intelligence, romance, and a hefty respect for the folk tradition.

It is here, with truly local talent, that you feel the beating heart of Hear In Rhode Island. These performers hit the stage for the love of music and for nothing more, because, in folk music, what else is there? Trying to make it as a folk singer in this unforgiving is something akin to writing poetry or selling typewriters for a living. Will anyone be there to hear it or want it? Is anyone out there listening?

If the shy turn-out for the festival is any indication, the answer is most likely, "not really." Even with a more efficient weeding-out process and talent on a national scale, the lofty gray clouds kept most folks away. Vendors closed up early, even though glimpses of the late-day sun setting over the bay proved to be a perfect backdrop for great music. "You know how fickle Rhode Island audiences are," says Fuzek, sounding a little disappointed. "It's impossible to get people out around here." If it sounds like sour grapes, well, it's not. Fuzek and the Hear In gang, together with RISA, In the Square Coffeehouse (thanks to Cathy Villanis), and Stone Soup (thanks also to Charlie Obert), put a lot of sweat, muscle, and valuable time into the festival. Those who went, appreciated. Those who didn't better hope that Fuzek and company find it in themselves to bring this circus back to town for another year.

But then, there will always be songwriters. To those who write music, the world looks like a song. Whether that world happens to be drenched in beads of sunshine and love, like Hurricane's, whether it's filled with the suffocating smoke of Chick Graning's deadly cigarettes, or whether it's populated by the oddball characters brought to life by Mark Cutler makes no difference. Every songwriter sees the world through her own prism, and whether or not anyone's there with her to see it, at least while she's on stage singing, hers is the only song in the world.

NIGHTSWIMMING. Thanks to Mike Caito for his inimitable view of the local music scene for so many years. His indefatigable championing of Rhode Island's finest was second to none and will likely never be matched. The paper won't be the same without him. Good luck and happy trails, MC.