Three DGM artists - Bert Lams of The CGT (who lives in the village), Jacob Herringman & Matt Seattle (who travelled from Scotland) - played in the local church on Saturday evening. David Singleton left a message to suggest I should introduce the evening, as the poster claimed: "RF Introduces ...". The Rev. Sid Wilcox introduced me, and I introduced the evening. And what a little stunner.
There is little sense of village community here, at least which I sense. But sitting in the left front pew, a member of the listening communion, I enjoyed the presence of something more than the people in the church. The same was true in Cranborne, when The League of Crafty Guitarists walked down from the Red Lion House to play in Cranborne Church. Particular experiences in specific locations aside, Guitar Craft is the most authentic experience of community I know.
Bert Lams, as always, a hero: Bert does what is necessary in any particular context. Bert moves himself out of the way, so he becomes a way. He has the rare capacity to be able to lead, support, & be radically neutral. I know no other player who is able to fulfill these three roles so completely.
Jacob's own composition / improvisation, arranged for lute and guitar, was a musical highlight of the evening.
Matt Seattle, now on Border pipes, was originally a guitarist. Matt was the first Guitar Craft student, ten years before Guitar Craft (when an early approach was presented as Guitar Mechanics in London during early 1975). And Matt rocked out.
The three met Friday evening, and on Saturday played solos, duets & trios. Their musical commonality is where tradition and innovation meet. On Monday night only four tickets were sold. For the performance, the church was respectably full. The evening was so much more a musical event than nearly everything nominally musical in my professional life. Inevitably, necessarily, I find myself wondering if there is much point in me continuing to try and struggle uphill in the mud of the music industry when I find music more available, flowing freely, in Guitar Craft and a small performance that the world beyond this village will never know.
If a Diary reader would like to check this out for themselves, read Elephant Talk and ask: what does this have to do with music? Then, you'll know how I feel (if you don't already). The obvious rejoinder: then why does Fripp bother?
The answer is a simple one: because I bear witness to the experience that music is a transformative event, if we allow it to be. This implies no personal talent or particular capacity. Simply, I have had the good fortune to be present when music came to visit. Then, a return to the world of noise is unacceptable; and to embrace the daily dishonesty that music is a product to market is authentic suffering.
But I've got to say (or more accurately write) that I'm beginning to believe my time playing in the Cellar Club, when even the bulk of a sympathetic audience appears to have little notion of what is actually available, is running out.
"It is not asked of us that we never fall over.
It is asked of us that we always get up."
