History’s music pulls at the soul
Published 5:00 pm Saturday, April 16, 2011
Blues is the way of talking,
You don’t sing to feel better,
You sing ‘cause
That’s a way of understanding life.”
August Wilson
In our Thursday night writer’s group there was talk about The Smithsonian’s New Harmonies exhibit that was featured. Sunday, Jeanne and I stopped by to see just what it was that was causing the writer’s group not to be able to use the small conference room for our meeting and now I know why.
There was a nice lady at the door to greet us when we came in. I think there was some constant music playing in the big conference room. The first music I chose to listen to was Native American, the first people to occupy this river’s edge.
There were several samples of music renditions available to listen to on one of the tables and everywhere there were photographs and paintings of musicians playing their music or just being there.
Then there were photos of the Terp Ballroom back in the day. My mother worked there when I was a small child while my sister kept an eye on me. I remember asking her if the letters I passed on to her were really words.
There were some concerts in later years that were well attended by high school students. And sometimes alcohol was served oor possibly smuggled in. One night, Johnny Cash was there and he autographed my fishing license.
One of the pictures of the musicians was Jack Konousky who later sold cars. I didn’t know then he was a musician. I was kind of confined to being around home still experimenting with letters and having the same lack of success.
I think I may need to get back to the library again and listen to the music of all ages that also included Bob Dylan and Joan Baez, two of my preferred choices.
Now the Terp has a new name and it is a place of music, of Hispaniola music. I haven’t stopped by there yet but I’ve certainly given it some thought.