It’s Always Sunny in Kathryn’s Place

I’m still fighting to get on a proper sleep schedule. I have two cups of coffee in me, so I should have enough focus to write without dozing off zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

That was a joke, but I have dozed off while writing and found pages and pages of single letters repeated from my fingers resting on the keyboard. I’m always tempted to leave them in as a testament to what was really going on in my head. I don’t because I won’t subject My Gentle Readers to it.

Last night I went to one of my home games, Kathryn’s Place, Kathryn’s apartment when hosting a house concert. It’s amazing how often I find I can’t make it. She’s one of the few presenters that I trust enough to go see an artist I don’t know. It’s how I discovered Sam Baker. I am forever in her debt. She also has a beautiful apartment decorated with her original art, she’s a painter. Add the delicious spread and Kathryn herself, and you get a home game.

The performer was Sunny War. I know Sunny through Kathryn, Sunny played the 2018 Hudson West Fest. Kathryn is on the festival board and brought Sunny to the table.

Even though the concert was held on short notice there was a full house. My friends were Jeff, Carol, & Brianna, Ellen, Bev, Karen, and making his first appearance at Kathryn’s, Jim. The way I pair down my friends list is by forgetting to mention people in my blog. Which good friends that I spent time talking to have I forgotten? I don’t know, I’ve forgotten. Life would be easier if I had a brain. On the way down there, I saw on Facebook that Bev performed that afternoon at Lehman College, close to where I live. I wish I had known. I’d have gone and traveled with her. Of all the words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these; “What might have been.” I shouldn’t like that quote, it’s a false rhyme, but I do.

I’d have gone to see Sunny under far less auspicious circumstances, she’s special. I’d have gone to Jersey to see her, the highest praise of all. So many people in the folk coffeehouse/house concert circuit are interchangeable. They might be very good, but you can get the same thing from many other musicians, they are fungible, artistic commodities. There’s only one Sunny. Seeing her is like nothing else. She’s one of the few great guitarists in the community. It’s not just technical skill, it’s creativity. She said that when she started out that she didn’t want to sing, she wanted to be a guitarist like Slash. I’m waiting for someone to tell me that it was The Edge. They are nothing alike, but I lump the guys with words for names together. They can be easily misfiled. Sunny is self-taught, her technique is unique. I was mesmerized just watching her left hand. I don’t know if it was just an illusion caused by my focus, but it looked like her hands were huge, at least in proportion to her petite body. It once read that great guitarists have big hands; that might be prejudicing me.

If Sunny were just an ordinary guitarist, she’d still be special because of her singing. There is something of Diana Jones in her voice, but there is more that isn’t. There’s a resonance you rarely find in female voices. It makes me think of the line from some version of Trilby I saw. Svengali says the roof of Trilby’s mouth is like a cathedral. Then there is the way that Sunny uses her voice. It’s filled with passion, conviction, and gravitas. Her speaking voice is totally different, she’s silly and giggles a lot. If I had heard her singing before I saw her live, I’d have guessed that she was far older, a mature woman at least 50. If I had seen and heard her talking, I’d have thought someone younger, in her early twenties. She’s in her late 20s.

I want to see a friend that isn’t Kathryn, present Sunny. She’d make every venue lineup better. She’s a performer that every audience member will remember clearly.

I sold the merch; I do that at most coffeehouses I go to but it’s rare at a house concert. I love selling the music of someone I believe in. I did a hard sell.

I have nothing special planned for today. Tomorrow I make my annual Thanksgiving pilgrimage to VanMerc Hill. I’ll probably write tomorrow on the ride up. I see no music on my calendar until December 6. I’ll have to find something.