Creature comforts at the 47th annual Vancouver Folk Music Festival, plus James Vincent McMorrow tonight in Sidney BC and Fränder in Mission next week!

(All photos in this piece are by me except the one I stole from Dan Harbord)

I spent the first half of yesterday at the Vancouver Folk Music Festival trying to get comfortable. 

I have no form of lawnchair. I find them a bit ungainly -- I don't want to have to haul them around and (sorry, you VFMF regulars), despite the obvious advantages, I find it a bit obnoxious to permanently stake out turf in front of your favourite stage, especially if you're just going to walk away (I spent part of Ndidi O's set sitting behind two chairs with no one in them -- people just dropped their chairs and went to check out a different band, perhaps with an extra set of chairs for that stage? It all seems rather mercenary!). But folding chairs may be the best way to address the issue of creature comforts, because:

If I sit crosslegged on the ground, even on the pillow I brought, my left leg falls asleep.

If I lean back against a tree... well, it's just not COMFORTABLE. And it means facing away from the stage, generally, which is fine in terms of missing out on visuals (I'm more about listening, anyhow), but it also affects the audio, because your ears aren't pointing the right direction (and you have a fucking tree behind you: sound travels all right through wood if you live in a wooden apartment building but if you get a whole friggin' tree's worth of the stuff, it does tend to act as a damper. Or a baffle? It blocks the sound). 

And how to sit is only part of the problem: there's also the question of where to sit. If I sit in the sun, I get baked, and not in a good way. (It was very hot yesterday; Dan Harbord took a selfie of us, and my expression says it all):

(photo by Dan Harbord)

If I sit in the shade, I am surrounded by a tight cluster of people who could be chatting, eating, or parenting. This can sometimes be enjoyable: that woman with the donair yesterday reminded me simply by aroma that I hadn't eaten since early that morning and sent me off to the food trucks (capsule review: if you eat Taco Tigre, the beef brisket is great but the lemongrass chicken taco tasted like a dog had been breathing on it; I much preferred the Caribbean jerk place by the main stage). And during one of the workshops, when Grace Petrie encouraged a singalong with "The House Always Wins," which I had correctly predicted she would play, I completely forgave the chatty two-or-three year old for talking as much as she did when she joined in on the chorus of "Roll up roll up!" as directed by Petrie (get'em young!). 

Nothin' like a three year old with jam smeared on her face singing along with a queer socialist protest singer!

That song, by the way, was inspired by  Boris Johnson ("like Donald Trump but without the charm" -- Petrie wins the "arch wit" prize), who, despite leaving office in some disgrace, earned one million pounds in public speaking fees in the three months after his resignation. (Her backstories for each song were highly illuminating). 

And in fact, that workshop ("Songs that Slay") was the set where I figured out how to solve the problem of comfort: LIE ON YOUR BACK. You need a pillow and a hat for your face, but (it turns out) if your ears are pointing UP it doesn't impact the audio as much as if they are pointing AWAY. 

(Pharis and Jason Romero)

That set also featured the day's musical highlight: James Vincent McMorrow. He speaks with a normal human male voice, but sings with a gorgeous, sustained, and surprisingly rich falsetto; Russ Mael has nothing on this guy. Dave Bowes, also at the festival, observed that usually a falsetto is thin (and made observations about "head voice" versus "chest voice" that I was not aware of before), but that's  not the case with McMorrow, who has one of the most achingly beautiful, ethereal, expressive voices I've heard, and I rushed out to buy his album forthwith (linked under his name, previously). 

If Petrie is the songwriting "discovery" of the fest, McMorrow is the vocal one. I still don't really know his music, but lying on my back listening to him sing (or listening to his bemused comments on seeing a hundred-odd festival attendees shout "was a patriarchal structure" at the stage when Petrie did "Black Tie" again that set) was maybe the high point of the day. 

I took no photos (I was facing the wrong way), but here's one of some stilt walkers! 

After "Black Tie" was done, I discovered I had also been a source of amusement to the people beside me, who observed to me when I got up, "we thought you were sleeping, but then you were singing along!" 

Astute observers of Grace Petrie's Friday set will have noticed she had a new tattoo under wraps; the wrapping was off today. I didn't go so far as to ask her where she got it, but I did snap a photo of it (the bird; the lower tattoo is one of her lyrics!). Ace photographer Sharon Steele ran into her later and Petrie explained that "it’s a sparrow to commemorate sailors who navigated over 5,000 miles." I am not entirely sure what that means -- there didn't seem much nautical content in Petrie's sets -- but I guess it's a question for the future (she'll be back in Vancouver November 7th). 

You may see me lying on my back again today. Hope it's not as hot! Bev came but left early because it was so unreasonably warm. Sunscreen and a hat are highly recommended. 

(Bev, plus shadow of Harbord)

But two heads up for music fans: for those of you on Vancouver Island, note that McMorrow is playing Sidney tonight! For those of you out Mission way, meantime, note that Fränder is playing the folk festival there next weekend. Fiddler Alva -- I believe the newest member of the band, replacing Natasja Dluzewski, whose name I got wrong in the initial version of this post -- had the most gorgeous dress yesterday:

Which brings up another problem with sitting with your back to the stage that need be noted: not only are your ears facing the wrong direction, but they may be facing the right direction (especially re: the East and South stages) for a DIFFERENT CONCERT. Prior to the Songs that Slay workshop, I was enjoying Scott Smith's Adventures in Pedal Steel set, featuring Paul Pigat (and apparently a regular fixture at the Painted Ship). It was a vaguely Deadlike trip, like -- you know Jerry Garcia's score for the Zabriskie Point centrepiece? Kinda like that, but for pedal steel. 

It was gorgeous, but facing away from the stage, it was also being competed with not only by a hand drum merchant (note to festival organizers: DO NOT PUT HAND DRUM MERCHANTS IN PROXIMITY TO STAGES; kids and customers will be testing the drums when bands are playing!) but this booming, raucous amplified folk rock echoing through the trees from the South Stage, which reminded me vaguely of the more folkish passages in the music of everyone's favourite Russian Pagan metal band, Arkona. Finally I just figured "if you can't beat'em, join'em" and forsook Smith's music to go see what the ruckus was.

The ruckus being the aforesaid Fränder. I only got to hear one of their songs, "Evigt regn," a "polska" (different from a polka, they explained, but don't ask me how) but it inspired me to rush to the merch tent and, who knows, might get me out to Mission next week? We'll see. 

(artist Jasmine Pearl paints at her merch booth) 

I may not do much more by way of Folk Festival reportage on this blog, though I do now have a Grace Petrie interview to pitch around. Turns out (thanks to Grant McDonagh at Zulu, who facilitated a last-minute shopping request) I gave her TWO Ferron albums, the "easy ones to find," and we talked about "The Kid's Song," as I think I previously mentioned I might do, and the importance of people having role models and such -- and not necessarily famous ones, just people who, by virtue of being interesting and inspiring and fearless and functional, make it okay for you to be who you are. 

Seems like Petrie didn't really have any such people, which is one of the reasons, if I followed her correctly, that she became who she is -- to compensate for an absence she felt keenly in her youth. She'll be playing one final workshop today, and also encouraged me to film her tweener last night (no, that's not anatomical: a tweener is a short set between acts on the main stage). Dave Bowes caught a photo of me filming her:

I was, incidentally, completely wrong about what she would do for a 'tweener: I thought she'd seize the opportunity to deliver her most political set of the festival, getting maximum exposure to her causes, but instead (as you will see in the clip) she did a song about her niece, "Ivy," off her 2015 album Whatever's Left, followed by a reprise of "Northbound," which is a fun song to sing along to. I pointed my camera at the audience and missed her rather delightful visual cues to them, making sure they hit the right parts of the song. She's great at getting a laugh from her crowds, is very funny. She's also getting married soon, then heading off for a tour of Australia! 

There's actually plenty still to see today. Not sure if I'll make it all the way to Jericho Beach in time to be forced between bluesman Alvin Youngblood Hart (10am East Stage) and the gospel workshop on the South Stage (also 10am and featuring a few of "the Dylan people"). For sure, I'll be there at 11am for Grace's workshop with Barney Bentall, Mel Parsons, and Mick Flannery, then I'll stick around for Chris Smither.  Not sure of much else, except I definitely plan to see Wendy McNeill, whose album, For the Wolf a Good Meal, I bought pretty much on spec yesterday, for the gorgeous cover and provocative title. Dave tells me she did a rather brilliant werewolf love song the other day? (I missed it, but here's my second chance).  

Then I'll probably slip over to the South Stage for the Pas de Deux workshop, featuring four duos, Pharis and Jason Romero (I had no idea Pharis had sung for Outlaw Social; my wife is a huge fan of that defunct project), Kevin Breit and (former Lounge Lizard!) Cyro Baptista, the Milk Carton Kids, and Oliver and Chris Wood. And if I'm there, I might stick around for Chris Pierce, but I suspect that I may run out of steam before that. Whether I stick around depends in part on whether I find space in the sea of tarps and lawnchairs, spread out before the main stage, to stretch out in, how cooked I feel, and how much my stamina holds out. It may not! 

(artistic director Fiona Black, left)

But one important note to close on: if you like the folk festival -- as vibrant and rich a celebration of human expression and community as can be had, in one of the most gorgeous settings imaginable, and an essential part of Vancouver's musical culture -- and you want to see it happen again next year, you should know that EVERY DONATION (of up to $25,000, anyway) is being matched 100%, so the $100 I contributed yesterday means $200 for the festival. I don't have $25,000 to spare, personally, but if you do, you could pretty much guarantee that there's another festival next year... 

That's it! Now I have to shower and get on the road for day three!