H I LL INO I UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN PRODUCTION NOTE University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library Large-scale Digitization Project, 2007. 4.- ATA I II lolume 4, Number 1 (whole issue 16) kI_- October 7, 1963 HOBART SMITH AT U. OF I. Hobart Smith, a traditional fiddler, tions of us Smiths kindly took to music. )anjo-picker, guitarist, and singer Always picking on some instrument or from Saltville, Virgina, will appear in singing some ditty, that was the Smith Altgeld Hall, October 11, 8 PM, in the way. If we managed to marry somebody 3lub's first membership concert of the who didn't care for it, why pretty soon new school year. they'd dive up and get a divorce and leave, and then we'd marry somebody else Smith's repertoire, some of which is who did love music. That way it just available on the Atlantic "Southern kept a-runnin' through our family." Folk Heritage Series" recorded by Alan Lomax, includes dazzling fiddle hoe- "In the first generations of my family owns and breakdowns, guitar blues, the men were all fiddlers and the girls gospel songs, old ballads and rippling, all good singers. Drop on down and you rhythmic banjo pieces that sound equal- begin to get a banjo player or two in the Ly good as lyric songs or as dance crowd. Then they was mostly banjo pick- iccompaniment. ers, like my daddy, King Smith who learnt me to play. I took to it so natural Among his famous pieces are "John that when I come to the house, Mama would Brown", a lively dance tune for fiddle tell old King to put by his banjo and Ln modal tuning, "Bangin' Breakdown", let somebody handle it who could." a strangely beautiful rhythm exercise ln Afro-American banjo music, and "See Many Club members will remember Fhat My Grave Is Kept Clean", .a moving Hobart's appearance earlier this year at and powerful song that flows directly the University of Chicago Folk Festival. Dut of Negro tradition. His virtuosity astonished the crowd as he moved with no difficulty from one in- Actually, Hobart Smith is as much a strument to the other, from one song study in American history as he is in style to another, all the time enjoying rusic. His repertoire spans the com- his work as much as the audience en- plete distance from the original Scots- joyed listening to it. Irish immigration to the Negro plantation culture. His home in the western reaches The Club plans at least four member- )f Virginia has been for over a century ship concerts during the school year: an area of intense cross-pollination Hobart Smith, Emmanuel Dunn, Mississippi )etween Negro and white culture, and the delta bluesman; and two others yet to music of the region expresses this fact be selected. Admission to these Club nore than any aspect of everyday life concerts is by membership card only. ,an. However, membership is open. Dues are $2.00 a year. Hobart himself comes from a musical family. In his words, "All the genera- See you at the concert ^ Cz, ^ 4% V-.- ^ L44 I I ^ I~m ^ 5 $ ^ w 0ad ~mmm.4 EDITORIAL You went to the first folksing, you parted with two dollars and became a member. You joined because you were hip on folk music, or because your friend joined, or because you werepersuaded to join. At any rate, you are now a part of the largest organization on campus--the Campus Folksong Club. To what does this entitle you besides a little green membership card to carry with you always? Aside from the regular Friday night folksings (at which all members are free to air their lungs and show off their instrumental prowess), the Club offers a few special concerts free to you members only. Friday, October 11, the Club will feature Hobart Smith, old time fiddle and banjo player from Virginia, and on Friday, November 1, Emmanual Dunn, Hississippi blues singer, will perform. While folksings and concerts provide pleasurable listening to folk music, seminars and lectures will give you insight into the background of the songs and the lore of the "folk" with whom they originated; these discussions reveal the folksong to be not merely a form of entertainment, but also an impor- tant cultural expression of the people. The noted folklorist, Ben Botkin, will speak to you on iNovember 12 at the Club's first lecture of this year. Coffee klatches and informal socials after concerts and lectures afford you a chance to meet the performer or scholar and to get together with other Club members. Finally, as a member, you receive several issues of the Club's publi- cation--Autoharp. Writers, artists and volunteers are invited to contribute, and to assemble and mail Autoharp. The Campus Folksong Club operates under the assumption that you like folk music, but recognizes the fact that each individual expresses his interest in a different way. As has been pointed out in this editorial, the Club has tried to adapt itself to your various interests with an aim to please. You may prefer to listen to folk music or perform it yourself, study it, write about it, or even talk about it. Whatever your interests, you are among friends here. Thanks for joining. Benette Rottman, Editor THE SCEIIE IN ALABAMA Last year it was my pleasure at this season to report on the results of a trip made by me and my friends to the Southern Appalachians in search of native fiddlers. This year I again made my annual trip south, but with a difference: Instead of heading for what Archie Green calls "the seemingly more romantic southern highlands" I set out instead for the town of Clanton (pop. 6000) in the heart of the red-clay country of Alabama. The reason was a practical one. The Plouses, it appears, now have relatives (or kinfolk, to use the proper term) in Alabama, and my brother and I realized that by staying with kinfolk we could stretch our finances considerably and spend more of our money doing those unnecessary but much-desired things that make a trip a vacation. We did set aside a couple of days for the Smokey Mountains, but, after leaving Champaign we pointed the Rambler's nose directly at Clanton and arrived there at 2:00 a.m., after a l4-hour trip. My aunt, knowing that I am a fiddle-chaser, had already notified me that Clanton boasted of considerable native talent. As evidence she cited a local dentist and his wife, both of whom pick guitar and sing. The man to see, she assured me, was Doctor Parker, and his office was right downtown, just across from the Rexall Drug Store. I set off on foot and soon found the doctor's shingle beckoning me off the street and into the old, two-storey walkup that graced the main street of downtown Clanton. I climbed the stairs, entered the office, and asked the receptionist: "Is Doctor Parker the man that picks the guitar?" "Yes he is," she replied, grinning, and looking at me strangely. (It is very unusual in Clanton to walk into a dentist's office when your head needs to be examined more than your teeth.) "Sit down a while, and he'll see you when he's through with his patient." The wait lasted about an hour, and during that time I fancied to myself what kind of man this "Doc" Parker must be. Probably some old gent in a plug hat-- maybe even chin whiskers. Must have been in this same office since laughing gas was discovered. I must confess that I was shocked when the "doctor" finally appeared. What greeted me was a trim, crew-cut young man who showed no evidence of having left his twenties. We shook hands. I introduced myself, and, while recovering from the shock explained to the doctor that I was just a visitor in town--a sort of migrant worker, casually attached to a northern institution of higher learning and interested in turning up some good examples of country music. The doctor immediately shocked me again by using the term "folk music" to describe his own interests. I questioned him on his background, and he revealed that he was actually from western Kentucky and had first become interested in traditional music while at St. Louis University. This happened about four years ago he explained. The truth was then that Doctor Parker's career as a country music fan pre- dated mine by only about one year. I felt a little more comfortable. "Let me show you my latest project," Parker asked, and he led me back into the office and extracted something from behind the dentist's chair. It was a long neck for a banjo, and the doctor himself had carved it. I sighted along it and felt the finish. Evidently, the doctor, for all his youth, was a skilled craftsman. There were plenty of people in Champaign-Urbana who would have given good money for a piece of equipment like that. I asked the doctor if he was a guitar-picker or a banjo picker. His main interest was the banjo, he confided, though he did play both instruments. We made an appointment for that evening. Doctor Parker would make the arrange- ments, and if they were successful I would get to meet the winner of the Chilton County Fair Fiddler's contest. I thanked the doctor and left, running all the way back to my aunt's house for lunch.