John Ross (1947-2009)

I'm sad to report that my friend and technology colleague John Ross died earlier this month. Some of you may have known John as the author of books for O'Reilly and other publishers on computer networking. I suspect more of you knew him as one of the indefagitable organizers and the perennial emcee of the Band Scramble at the annual Northwest Folklife Festival.

I don't believe there's been an official obituary for John published yet, but you can follow the discussion of the sad news at the Mudcat Cafe website. (Mudcat's a group of people involved in the preservation and study of recorded music.)

I had the privilege of doing a bit of work with John on wireless networking issues for the Mac when he was expanding a book, originally for PC users, to a cross-platform audience. He also gave me much earnest advice on how to make a living as writer.

John's enthusiasm for folk music and knowledge and homemade cider will be remembered. A Celtic Band Scramble is planned in his memory at this year's Folklife (3:30-4 p.m. Sunday, Northwest Court Stage); I hope there will also be a somewhat less raucous gathering at another point.

Folklife weekend

I'm heading off to Folklife tomorrow morning for my 24th year at the festival. I've volunteered all 24 years, performed (with Nonesuch English Country Dance) for a half-dozen years, and was even on the board for a few years in the early '90s.

If you are a visitor to Folklife, three things will amaze:
• The breadth and depth of the performances, particularly the ones on the indoor stages.
• The fact that all the performances (with the exception of one benefit concert) are free.
• All the opportunities to jump in and participate — at the Roadhouse dance hall and the Center House dance venue, and at dozens of small specialty workshops.

As a volunteer, what amazes me year after year is the way the festival runs itself, with the vast majority of the work being done by experienced volunteers. The Folklife staff plans the event in meticulous detail (see photo, above) but when the festival goes live, their work becomes coordination of the volunteers, who are out there emcee-ing the stages, manning the info booths, asking for donations at the entrances, and performing on the stages.

Folklife is an organizational wonder.

What kind of friend are you?

OK, that's a trick question.

I wanted to get your attention to find out if you're a Friend of Folklife. If you've let your Friend of Folklife membership lapse, or you enjoy the festival every year but have never cozied up to it much past stuffing a $10 bill in the donation box, now's the time.

"Now," as in "by April 30."

This "free" festival has a serious budget of about $2 million collars (with costs going up), and relies primarily on individual donations to make the four-day festival happen. (Has anyone seen any big arts grants recently? Didn't think so.)

Unfortunately, Folklife doesn't fit the usual profile of an arts organization or a human services organization or an educational or research non-profit—even though it works in all those areas. And though Folklife does a lot to benefit many of the regional ethnic and folk arts communities, most supporters of those groups tend to fund their own, smaller, projects before thinking of Folklife.

During the month of April, Folklife is doing a special "new friends" campaign to broaden its membership base. Over the years, Folklife has turned again and again to the same core of supporters. The new executive director of Folklife, Rob Townsend, is now challenging the board and longtime Folklife supporters (like me and Zorg) to help him grow that base.

So, I'm inviting you to join Folklife at the $50 level. The Friends of Folklife donation is tax-deductible, so it's a better deal than making $10 daily donations to the cash boxes on the festival grounds.

And, as a Friend of Folklife, when you come to the festival this year, you'll get a special button that will let you into the Folklife Hospitality suite, a large area with free refreshments where the performers hang out and jam. It's nice to be able to wander in there and get a free Coke or cup of tea without having to stand in a long line at one of the food booths; if it's raining, Hospitality is a wonderful sheltered place to come and hear some of the hottest music on the festival grounds.

I suspect that, if you're reading this blog, you already know what Folklife is all about. But, if not, I want to be sure you know that it's not the hippy-dippy fiddle fest that the local news media show 5-second clips of on the nightly news. Folklife's ethnomusicology staff spend years laying the groundwork with ethnic communities in the Pacific Northwest that enable the Festival to bring some fascinating folkways—music, dance, art, and rituals—to the greater community. In many cases, Folklife's interest has helped a community preserve a tradition that had been dying out, passing that heritage on to another generation. This is delicate work that Folklife undertakes; there are internal divisions in some communities and in others there are notions about performance that are very different from the mainstream (for instance, in some cultures, the idea of an artist performing for free, as the vast majority of Folklife performers do, is very odd).

Another unusual aspect of Folklife is that many of the people you see running stages, doing communications, greeting, staffing hospitality, and making the four-day festival run are volunteers. (Even the new executive director was taken aback to discover how much of the work done by hired staff at other festivals is handled smoothly by Folklife's enormous volunteer network.) Without that immense system of volunteers, Folklife could never remain a free festival. It would have gates, security police, ticket takers, and long lines.

As a writer, I don't use the word "unique" lightly. But I have no trouble applying it to Folklife. It's unique: the largest free folk music festival in North American, and easily the most magical.

So, if you've been enjoying Folklife all these years, and want to make sure it continues, now's the time to join me and other Friends in enjoying your very own annual membership and your very own role making sure Folklife continues. Please click here.

Friday at Folklife

The weather made for a delightful Friday at Folklife. Friday is almost always my favorite day at the festival; the crowds are lighter, everyone is full of opening-day energy, and the merchants have the greatest variety of wares.

What's new this year at Folklife?

• Dancehall shortage. The Exhibition Hall, which in the past has hosted Cajun, Zydeco, Country, Swing, and other non-contra participatory dancing, was claimed by another Seattle Center organization for the weekend. As a result, the Ex Hall participatory dancing events must now share the small Center House dance floor with the participatory ethnic dancing (including salsa and tango) and the large Fisher Pavilion Roadhouse dance hall with the contra dancing, square dancing, English dancing and waltzing. Saturday night there will not be any contra dancing in the Roadhouse until 10 p.m. The contra dancers will find this a unique opportunity to expand their horizons.
• New look. Artis the Spoonman, who performed this afternoon with the perennially indignant protest songwriter Jim Page, has stopped shaving his head! I'd never seen him with hair. It looks very attractive...but you might not recognize him until he whips out his spoons and other percussion devices. (Interesting to note that Page, who pronounces the word "tech" the way most people pronounce the word "shit," has a fine website.)
• New food. There are a few new food booths, including The Taste of Poland on the Key Roadway (Key Arena side of the Fisher Green). I haven't had the opportunity to try them yet; I had a very good, extremely spicy Jambalaya at the Southern Kitchen in the Kobe Bell plaza at the foot of the Fountain Lawn near Founders Court. Oddly, my favorite Folklife food is the superb baba ganouj and hummus at the Mediterranean restaurant in the Center House Food Court.
  
• Crackers. The "freebies" at the festival are always interesting. Last year it was pomegranate juice; this year, Ritz crackers with no trans fats. (Report: They're good, but would be better with some chopped chicken liver on them.)
• Cooked vs. raw. The clothing vendor Hartware (just off the Crafts Walkway by the upper Fountain) has wonderful painted shirts, including one of a jousting asparagus stalk versus a carrot. Trust me -- you have to see this one.
  
• Order in the court. The Northwest Court area has a stage and a beer garden, as usual, but no crafts booths this year. This makes it an even more pleasant venue for simply focusing on the music. I caught the Nudie Suit Stardusters, a new vintage country group, there this evening.
  
• Donation pricing. Suggested per-day donation for Folklife has gone up to $10 per day (but only $20 for a family group). Think $10 is a lot? It's less than a new CD, or a pizza. And a day at Folklife is much, much better than a CD or a pizza. Even a Snoose Junction pizza.

For those of you winding up to post a comment about how Folklife is just too loud and crowded for you, here's my suggestion for a quiet version of Folklife: Take a bus to lower Queen Anne and get off on 1st Avenue North. Enter the Seattle Center grounds from 1st Avenue North at Key Area, turn left and walk up the stairs to the Northwest Court. The outdoor stage, plus the indoor Rainier Room and Olympic Room, have great entertainment and you won't be driven crazy by drummers, food booths, or milling shoppers. Check out the day-by-day schedules for those venues on the festival website.