Review

Chaos & Calm

by Robin Rues

When I think of Kelly and Donna and Still on the Hill, two images come to mind. Somehow these mental snapshots, simple flashes of memory, represent a whole world of emotion and meaning to me. Let me show you what I mean.

The first is the picture that lingers in my mind from the first time I saw Kelly and Donna. It was at the Kerrville Folk Festival, late in the evening. There's a light pole where the dirt road slopes down into the meadow, and musicians often congregate there. I was walking up from Chapel Hill when I saw a large group gathered under the light. There was a lot of movement and laughing and hollering and I just had to find out what was going on. I weaved my way past the dancers at the fringe and stepped through the animated crowd to be greeted by a sight that has never left my mind: Kelly and Donna, doing what they love best and simply shining.

I will forever remember that first awe-struck moment. Here was an elven queen, golden braids flying, bare feet stomping, smile radiant and pure. Beside her stood a dark enigmatic figure, his noble features infused with the emotion of his song, his shadowy locks like the scratches of a charcoal pencil. Together they were playing a kind of music I had never heard before; lively like bluegrass but with unexpected changes and unusual cadences. I stayed the rest of the night, but I will never forget my first image of them: her light contrasted perfectly with his dark. They were like figures resurrected from some ancient time when music was the prime magic.

My second image of Kelly and Donna came a few years later. Phil Lancaster, (their guitar player and co-singer) had just suffered a serious family loss and had put aside his muscial career to tend the home fires. At the time, I had a real fear that Still on the Hill would fall apart. Although Kelly and Donna assured me that they intended to continue as a duo, I worried about all of the trials that they would have to endure to weather the band's metamorphosis. I was in need of reassurance, and it came in the most unexpected way.

We were standing outside at the farm and I guess Kelly was going somewhere and Donna moved to hug him. As she laid her head upon his chest, Kelly tilted his head downward to fit himself to her. In that moment, in that image, all of my fears for the future of Still on the Hill fell away. For that moment, no one else in the world existed but those two, and their faces were cast in that gentle glow of simple, true love. In that one embrace, I saw the force that would sensure their continuity. That's why, to me, that image is so representative of Still on the Hill. Love seems to be at the root of everything they do. Every song they write, every cause they support, every friend they help, every aspect of their lives, is guided and directed by their enormous capacity for love.

These two images remain in my mind because they represent so much of what Still on the Hill means to me. They may not be gods or musical magicians, but they are masters of their craft. They have spend decades with their music, and it shows in every note they play. But even though they stand head and shoulders above most other musicians, they stubbornly refuse to be considered somehow better than others because of it. And that is amazing.

Even though I was satisfied that Kelly and Donna would continue as strong as ever as a band, I was curious as to what shape the new Still on the Hill would take. Like most fans, I wondered what the absence of Phil would mean. After all, songs like Merry-Go-Round and Why I Can Cry have a musical power and whimsy that are singular in their ability to bring both pleasure and pain to the listener. What would the loss of such a gifted musician do to the band?

The new Still on the Hill CD, "Chaos & Calm," answers all of these questions. It is, in my humble opinion, the best Still on the Hill CD to date. If you are lucky enough to get you hands on one, you'll see what I mean. The music turns like the seasons, at times burning with meteoric intensity, at others soothing in its gentle beauty.

You can feel it in your bones- this music is real. It doesn't shy away from difficult or painful issues, like the value of suffering (Could I Borrow That Arrow?), or the uneasy balance between traditional and contemporary modes of thought (Scarecrow), or the importance of activism (Beautiful Butterfly and If Wishes Were Horses) or the fragile nature of love (Crane Wife). But neither does the album take itself too seriously. There are some real burners on the CD: Train of Thought, Scarecrow, and Beautiful Butterfly, are foot stompers extraordinaire. Sleepless is guaranteed to bring a smile, and does a grand job of casting a fairly serious problem in a gently humorous light.

Kelly had added an interesting twist to the traditional album format. Between each song, he has crafted little musical transitional pieces. Each song is carried into the next upon the wing of these concoctions. Crows echoing in the distance, Native drums in a cave, Japanese stringed instruments, to name a few.

When I accepted the task of reviewing this work, I'll admit that my driving that was, "Great, I'll get to hear the CD before everyone else!" But after I accepted the project and heard the album, I began to realize what a gargantuan task I had taken on. Somehow, I needed to use my pitifully inadequate words to describe some of the most beautiful and thought-provoking music I had ever heard. At first, I decided to make notes on all of the interesting and noteworthy nuances of the songs, but that approach failed. Before I gave up, I filled two pages with notes on the unexpected chord changes and modulatons, the sudden and mesmerizing dual violins, the interplay of mandolin and violin, the seamless harmonies, and on and on and on. There was just too much. I could fill a book with the amazing and wonderful surprises contained within "Chaos & Calm."

So I decided to settle on a few highlights. I selected a few songs to discuss specifically, because although each one is a piece of art, there are several that moved me in an especially profound way. Here's a quick look at them:

Words on Birds: Kelly has done it again. One of my old favorites from Still on the Hill was White Tailed Deer, in which he set a Native American poem to music. Words on Birds is also poetry, but from several authors, and I think it just might be the most beautiful piece of music I've ever heard. I don't say that lightly, either- all I can say is give it a listen and see for yourself. There are moments when the music brings actual physical pleasure. I have already played it dozens of times and I feel that I could listen to it forever; it is simply that lovely.

What I Believe: The best of all worlds. You have Kelly's harmonica playing a subtle counterpoint, bringing to mind some dark cafŽ, maybe in southern France. The music is light and yet substantial, and on top of it all, Donna's voice. Pure and true with a slight edge. How is it that she can be so childlike and innocent and yet so worldly and wise? It's like rain on a sunny day; difficult to comprehend but a pure joy nonetheless. Listen close to the word, you might learn something.

Scarecrow: This is an amazing song. It's fast and rousing and filled with energy and inherent joy, and yet the theme is fairly tragic. I have never heard a song of social criticism approach its subject with such deep compassion and respect. I was moved to tears by the images it summoned, because its basic theme is one of the central truths of our culture. I've seen it between my father and I, and perhaps you will recognize it too.

Could I Borrow That Arrow? : A musical masterwork; lovely and moving. Both a tribute to Townes Van Zandt and a piercing inquiry into the nature and importance of suffering. Where you expect a chorus, you are instead treated to an intricate and moving series of entirely unexpected changes. Is Kelly drawing on classical influences? English folk music? Whatever it is, it works. Another song I could listen to forever.

Crane Wife: Wow. Do not listen to this song while operating heavy machinery. It is deep and profound and filled with images of emotion struggling for freedom. A song of love and the pain it brings. A song of sacrifice, frustration, passion, fear and longing. It's hard, actually, to describe what exactly this song does to me, because it is at times deeply painful and at others joyously liberating. All I can say is it moves me to my core, and I think that's really what art is all about when it come right down to it.

I am tempted to go on and describe the rest of the songs, but I think I may already be stretching my fair share of space. I will have to be satisfied with knowing that you will immediately go and buy the "Chaos & Calm" CD and figure out why exactly I'm so excited about it. Do we have a deal? Good-you won't be sorry.

If you've never heard Still on the Hill, check them out. If you're sick of the commerical, shallow crap cramming the airwaves, go to Sound Warehouse on Block Street and look for their black and white display.

If you already know Still on the Hill, you have got to get this CD; it is really the next level. Science tells us that two bodies orbiting around each other are more stable than three or four. Perhaps that's why this album is so much more focused and mature than any other to date. Whatever the case, it is clear that Kelly and Donna have created something between the two of them that is powerful and beautiful.

In a way, I feel like they are coming into their own as musicians. Not that they have finally reached some new level of skill or competence; they have long been comfortable with the tools of their craft. I simply believe that events have conspired to place them in a most fortuitous position. Their music now exists solely in that blessed realm between them. That is the key, because what is built there rests upon the firm foundation of their love. And by the way, I believe that is the answer to the age old question Kelly asks in Could I Borrow That Arrow: Do you need to suffer to make significan art? No. You need to love to make significant art. Suffering is simply a frequent unfortunate side effect of love.

It takes courage to love as deeply as Kelly and Donna do, and that is something the world needs to see: people unafraid of real love, unashamed of their peaceful hearts, unaffected by the waves of cookie-cutter music washing over us. We don't need abusive, hateful music, nor do we need shallow feel-good happy music tht is born not of pink, heart-shaped love but of that burning arrow variety-that sword hidden amongst the pinions. Love and pain, joy and sorrow, freedom and frustration. It's real and it's human and it's all there in "Chaos & Calm." Get the CD. Listen.