July 24, 2002
BY BOBBY REED
Any college student who attended Monday night's Down From the Mountain concert should receive course credit. The performers didn't lecture much, but they did provide a scintillating survey of 20th-century American roots music.
A three-hour credit would be appropriate, because that's about how long the concert ran (excluding a 20-minute intermission study break). This class was taught by a team of 37 rotating musicians who frequently referenced the canonical masters of the previous millennium. This concert reverentially revived the rural harmonies of the Carter Family, the high, lonesome bluegrass of Bill Monroe and the yodeling, country-blues of Jimmie Rodgers.
The awesome array of talent onstage at the United Center included Ralph Stanley, Emmylou Harris, Kate and Anna McGarrigle, the Del McCoury Band, Chris Thomas King, Ricky Skaggs, Alison Krauss & Union Station, Jerry Douglas, the Nashville Bluegrass Band, Patty Loveless, Norman and Nancy Blake, the Whites and master of ceremonies Rodney Crowell.
Two years ago it would have been laughable to suggest that Norman Blake would one day appear in a basketball arena, armed only with an acoustic guitar and a flat pick, singing a surreal tune popularized by Harry McClintock in 1928. Yet, there Blake was--looking like a cross between a Dr. Seuss character and a bespectacled balladeer from a dusty, sepia-toned photograph--crooning a flawless rendition of "Big Rock Candy Mountain."
The original Down From the Mountain concert was held at Nashville's Ryman Auditorium on May 24, 2000. The idea was to showcase the musicians who appeared on the soundtrack for "O Brother, Where Art Thou?," a film that wouldn't be released until several months later. D.A. Pennebaker filmed the concert and titled his extraordinary documentary "Down from the Mountain."
Since its release in late 2000, the "O Brother" soundtrack has sold over 6 million copies and sparked a bona fide cultural movement. Over the course of two large-scale tours, the roots-music franchise has expanded to include like-minded artists who were not part of the initial core.
This wise marketing maneuver has also paid off artistically. Many of the highlights from Monday's sublime concert came from Crowell, Loveless, McCoury, Skaggs and the McGarrigles, none of whom appear on the "O Brother" or "Down From the Mountain" albums.
Joined by Anna McGarrigle on button accordion and Kate McGarrigle on banjo, Harris sang a version of "Goin' Back to Harlan" that was as mesmerizing as a gossamer ribbon swaying in an Appalachian breeze. Stuart Duncan and Dennis Crouch provided shimmering, subtle accompaniment on fiddle and stand-up bass.
Backed by his Kentucky Thunder septet, Skaggs sang a high-octane version of "Black-Eyed Susie" in which he assaulted the neck of his mandolin to produce driving, lightning-fast riffs.
By playing this tune, Skaggs reached beyond the roots of country music to examine the very seeds of the genre. J.P. Nestor cut a version of "Black-Eyed Susie" during the same 1927 recording sessions in Bristol, Tenn., that marked the recording debuts of the Carter Family and Rodgers.
Crowell also touched upon this era by playing Rodgers' classic "In the Jailhouse Now." Backed by the Nashville Bluegrass Band and Union Station banjoist Ron Block, Crowell proved himself to be a capable and spirited yodeler.
Just as she did last February at the Chicago Theatre during the first tour, Loveless provided the evening's zenith with her tour de force "You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive." This chilling epic about a coal-mining community included Loveless' unadorned alto, Jerry Douglas' stinging Dobro accents and a searing twin-fiddle solo by Duncan and Carmella Ramsey.
Stanley ended the festivities by inviting all the performers onstage. He led an a cappella, call-and-response reading of "Amazing Grace" that featured full audience participation. At Stanley's prompting, many in the audience joined hands.
As thousands of fans reached across aisles to grasp the hands of strangers, it felt as though Stanley had not come down from an earthly mountain. The white-haired gentleman had seemingly descended from a much higher realm. Amazing grace, indeed.
bby Reed is a Chicago free-lance writer.