Various Artists, Canmore Folk Festival, Canmore, Alberta, Canada, July 30-August 1, 2005
Canmore is the best folk festival you've probably never heard of. I went
to see the Oysterband play one of their only two North American gigs for
this year. I was very pleased by them, delighted by the festival, and
lucky to have the chance to hang out in the gorgeous Canadian Rockies.
The lineup was fabulous, thanks in part to the fortuitous timing: it is
sandwiched between the Calgary and Edmonton festivals, and even splits
the weekend with the Jasper festival.
The Clumsy Lovers opened on Saturday evening, to a host of technical problems. The group used banter and an extended Wipeout drum solo to made the best of things. Banjo player Jason Homey was excellent and the band played a number of bluegrass songs that showed off his skills. I'd looked forward to seeing the Clumsy Lovers after hearing their songs on the radio and their website.
Harry Manx's mellower blues groove, backed by Steve Marriner on harmonica and keyboard, suited the audience very well as the sun set. He obviously knew his audience, and played a hockey song, ("Good Old Hockey Game"), for the audience to sing in celebration of the NHL agreement. And while some of the audience could be counted on to sing, very few would shift from their seats. (Click here to read a review of Manx's that appeared in a previous issue of the Green Man Review).
My only disappointment during the entire festival was the arrangement for dancers. There is no mosh pit at Canmore, nor dance tent, and neither seems likely in the near future. At the end of Saturday evening when the Oysters came out, the dancers got up to dance -- and were promptly herded into a small area at extreme stage right. The stages are low, and most of the audience showed a remarkable ability to keep their butts on their tarps even through energetic folk-rock. This meant that in order to avoid blocking the view of seated people, the dancers were confined to either the very back of the crowd (and we were shifted if more people came up behind us), or way off to the side. (To be fair, the same volunteers that shifted dancers into that area also shifted people who tried to sit down within the dancing area.)
During the days, performers shared workshop sessions at the three stages. Although called "workshops," the interaction between performers was limited. At worst, they were round-robin sessions of songs, at best, collaborations.
The workshop that combined of the (all-male) Bills and the (all-female) Wailin' Jennys was delightful, as was the combination of the (English) Oysterband and the (Irish-playing, French-speaking Quebecois) Rosheen. The latter combination, in particular, was worth some knees-up action in the dance ghetto. (See reviews of: The Bills' under their previous name, the Bill Hilly Band. Green Man also has reviewed the Wailin' Jennys, and our most recent review of the Oysterband can be found here.)
The "Touch of Humor" workshop, with Connie Kaldor and the Arrogant Worms was trying too hard to stick to jokes. While both write some very funny songs, Kaldor benefits from leavening her mix with more serious songs. And although the Worms have made a career out of humor, their voices are good, their stage-presence polished, and their harmonies are lovely -- I would love to hear them sing some not-overtly-funny songs. There's only so many songs about poop and plywood that one can bear.
The best of the workshops was on "Weighty Themes", which (from the songs chosen) appears to include social justice, fathers, and desire. Eliza Gilkyson, the Oysterband, and Vusi Mahlasela moved from strength to strength during this too-brief hour. South African Mahlasela's beautiful voice, whether singing in English or Zulu, was sufficient to draw in audience from halfway across the park.
Speaking of beautiful voices, Eivør Pálsdóttir from the Faroe Islands has an amazingly pure voice, which proved capable of stopping conversations mid-sentence. She appeared with Bill Bourne. (Green Man has reviewed Bourne's 1998 album, Sally's Dream.)
The evening concert included the Alison Brown Quartet, which played technically stunning tunes that were both more jazzy than I like, and colder. I miss the bluegrass. John Wort Hannam ("the guy with the difficult name") has beautiful lyrics but would have touched my heart more with a faster rhythm. The extravagantly talented Bills, clearly a local favorite, closed out the evening with Cajun-flavored tunes (and a cover of "Stardust"), and plenty of opportunities to show off new fiddler Richard Moody. (Coincidentally, Richard is brother to Ruth, the soprano in the Wailin' Jennys.)
Sunday's main stage events were started by the Swell Fellas, a local group playing quite respectable old-time music from underneath large cowboy hats. Festival director Ken Rooks comments that they try to include local musicians when they can, although the funding from many governmental organizations also requires out-of-province and international performers. The festival has an amazing number of sponsors, from the federal government to the local independent (and sadly soon-to-close) grocery store.
This year's record attendance -- 1400 tickets sold over three sunny days -- doesn't begin to compete with the large folk festivals, but both the venue (a downtown park where the Rockies frame the stages) and the international collection of musicians are excellent. Rooks and his several hundred volunteers deserve kudos for providing such a pleasant, friendly festival. The festival -- which started as a one-day event for Alberta's always-on-a-Monday Heritage Day -- has expanded into Sunday, and an evening concert on Saturday as well. (To read about the 2000 Canmore Festival, click here.)
There were far more musicians who I would have enjoyed listening to, but my schedule was packed as it was. For me, the perennial joy of the weekend was the Oysterband. The finds of the weekend were the Bills and Vusi Mahlasela.
