Walter "Wale" Liniger, 2009

I remember a piece of conversation between my playing partner James Son Thomas and Honeyboy Edwards at the Little Rock Blues festival in 1989.  The two bluesmen did not know each other. However, they both were from Mississippi and they both remembered the time often labeled as "back in the day." 

Both men talked about their mules, laughter that  belied the curses, both men talked about the bossman's bell dictating their daily routines.  Honeyboy, a long-time resident of Chicago, and James Son Thomas, an equally long-time resident of Leland, Mississippi, both were looking for intersections:  as they had never met before they mined their lives for shared experiences, and they both found them in their memories of coming of age in Mississippi. 

They were both familiar with Leland.  Honeyboy remembered passing through the small Delta town on his musical forays before Son Thomas moved there.  "I know about Leland....I used to catch the IC [Illinois Central] coming through Shaw and get off in Leland.  Used to play in the streets, had me a small guitar and a harp [he indicates the use of a harp rack].  Man, them houses were raggedy shacks.  Today people still live in the same old shacks in Leland."  James Son Thomas on the other hand was still living in Leland and added this:  "...lots of them shacks have gone...burnt, tore down...the lots are empty, weeds grow there."  Whilst Edward's image was dated, Thomas was able to add more recent information to the conversation about Leland, the town he lived in from 1963 - 1993.

Neither of the two men were playing the blues during this exchange, and yet they were both wrapping themselves up in its story.  Their laughter about stubborn mules and steamy Saturday night jukes sketched a territory in Time that I would never be able to explore.  I lacked the necessary intimacy with their lives.

For me the Piazza Blues festival 2009 was all about intimacy.  The festival takes place in the historic downtown of Bellinzona, a place surrounded by ancient fortresses and venerable buildings.  This setting ensures that the festival crowds will not explode and multiply beyond of what the blues actually can support.  The blues as a story requires a familiar setting, a space that allows the story to be told and understood.  This space was filled with an audience that expected to be taken back to the roots of the music and to be released into its future sounds.

Fritz Jakober, the Artistic Director of the festival, had upheld his promise to book good musicians, not stars.  I found my name written in the same font as everybody else's, everybody's name was of equal importance.  There were no divas on the Piazza Blues festival, we all seemed to do our own sound check and carry our own guitars on stage.  The music was to speak for itself.

Being part of this year's festival gave me a chance to talk to some of the other musicians again.  It had been more than 15 years since I had seen some of them.  We found our space in our memories, memories that we shared from places in America.  It made me feel good that they had not forgotten my name.

Although time has passed, I still feel the reverberation of this festival.  My mind keeps turning back the pages to the place in the valley, surrounded by unyielding mountains and teased by the distant beckoning of the lake.  I remember that I dedicated my final Harmonica Train piece to the railroad workers' union who had been on strike in Bellinzona in 2008.  That strike was a political voice I had not heard in many decades, a voice that reminded us all that there was The Tower (the place of intellectualization of pressing issues), and that there was The Street (the place of actually living those pressing issues).  Doesn't the blues talk about this kind of street?

The crowd reacted favorably. They remembered.  What deeper intimacy could I expect?  After all, I did not know Bellinzona and Bellinzona did not know me.  And yet through music and story we found a common platform.  Blues can be about such places.

When I think of Piazza Blues 2009 I revisit a time filled with stories and music, good food and laughter.  I remember that for the first time I was booked as an American musician (not as a Swiss, or as a Swiss-American).  I want to thank the organizers for their respect, dedication and hard work, but above all for giving me the chance to feel at home with my music and story, nationality of origin and citizenship of choice.  I needed this.

Walter Liniger
Institute for Southern Studies
University of South Carolina
www.bluesprof.com

I need this - Walter Liniger (13.59 kB)