Adventurous Folk for a Thursday: Ali Dineen and Ryvoli
Ali Dineen + Ryvoli
January 23, 2020
House Show: Rosemont House (Seth Murphy, et al.)
...As soon as Ryvoli began to play… I heard the woman sitting next to me inhale and let out the breath, slow. Jenn plucked atypical finger-picking patterns on her Sovereign acoustic that grooved and swelled to fill the room. Sam joined in on a classical guitar with a different picking pattern, and I wondered if I’d ever actually seen these two women before, even though I’ve known them for a few years. Seth’s bow hovered over his cello strings, as he used the lightest touch to produce his signature ethereal sounds that simultaneously float over and buoy up the other instruments in the group.
For this show, Seth set up a small Roland speaker that acted as a reverb chamber, adding back just a hint of the aural ambience that a small room full of people and couches and one dog (Waylon) will pad out. The effect was magical, and masterful. Even though I’ve heard Ryvoli play many times, and I’ve even played with them, I couldn’t believe this was happening to me— that I stumbled into this bungalow on the corner. That my friend has lived here for so many years and somehow it all led to this moment— this one moment where Jenn, Sam, and Seth were putting such beautiful harmonies into this room. If this was a movie, the lights would have dimmed to vinette the three of them in a warm glow.
Ryvoli are masters of counter-melody, and they know how to layer up harmonies in quiet drama that will completely captivate a room. Like alchemy, any moment they touch becomes precious and important. Or...perhaps, maybe the moment was already precious, and important, and we only notice these segments of time when something is able to stop us in our tracks, make us inhale, and let out that breath of realization. Ryvoli’s performance was beautiful, yet witty. They are serious about what they do, but they never take themselves too seriously when performing. Sam’s voice got quiet and a little broken at the end of their song “Secondhand,” as if she was ready to cry. She recently had a baby, and this show was one of her first few nights away from the little one. She’s stepped into some critical mom-strength and mom-exhaustion, so I wouldn’t have doubted a moment of misty-eyes. But, when she finished the song, she revealed that she was having trouble keeping it together because she kept imagining her 2-month old daughter riding around on Waylon’s back. She giggled about this whenever the dog was near for the rest of the night. Ryvoli closed their set with a cover of “My Favorite Things.” Their jazzy, contemplative version matched perfectly the cozy shelter this house show provided on a cold and rainy evening…
The hosts of the show signaled a break, and the friends that had gathered got to talking. Seth, Madison, and the rest of the roommates have obviously fostered a friendly crew. There were a number of people I met (and re-met) that night, and had memorable conversations about mutual interests (what I’m saying is: a night of real conversation is so refreshing!)
Ali Dineen got herself settled in front of the mic, with an anklet of small bells to keep time, and a beat-up guitar with a red leather strap tied to the guitar neck. This broke during her second or third song, so she sat down on a chair a little too high for her. Ali’s songs are true folks songs, in that they are communal and political. Her voice and song style instantly reminded me of Joni Mitchell, but she sings more about the world around her and less about the inner world of emotions, where Joni’s songwriting often lives. Ali’s songs are serious, without any concessions to pop trends, but they are sung with compassion and joy, and I was stunned in rapt attention. Her voice is like a mother’s, with round, northern vowels and gentle consonants. Her small, strong hands pluck the strings in fascinating, playful patterns. She doesn’t follow the structure of resolution and build-up that chord progressions are “supposed” to have, but manages to draw expertly contoured phrases anyway. Joni Mitchell said once in an interview: “...Music is when you pull the chords from your inner core, whether they sound weird to people or not, and anyone adventurous is doing that.” Ali Dineen is adventurous. Her songs show that she is following a heart she has practiced listening to. She alternates between finger picking, forming chord shapes up and down the fretboard, and rhythmic strumming. Her body language made this performance seem almost choreographed, like the steps of a dancer, each connecting motion made new every time she goes back through the pattern.
Again, I couldn’t believe this was happening to me, in this little house, on this unassuming Thursday night!
I’m not sure I’ve seen a more compelling, creative, and impressive musician so steeped in the history of folk music culture, and so truly herself. Watching Ali perform felt like witnessing something absolutely timeless. To that end, she finished her set with a handmade moving panorama or “cranky”: a paper-cut shadow box that provided pictorial accompaniment as she sang a shanty from the Georgia Sea Islands. Ali explained that the tune is sung at funerals. The wooden box and sturdy paper crinkled as she turned the crank, and the panorama rolled along showing calm bodies and faces, loving embraces, and nature scenes… I was transfixed. I wanted to ask her to just sing it again. I could hardly clap once she was finished with the final refrain, “I lay...this body down.”
Truthfully, I needed a break after all that goodness to process what I’d seen. I wandered to the back of the little house to find the bathroom, and the bourbon. Caught up with friends I hadn’t seen in a while. Talked about bands, and booking, and what it’s like to be an artist…and what it’s like to be a parent...
...and maybe it’s similar, although I have no experience as a parent. But I’ve heard you incubate and birth this precious thing that you love absolutely, and you send it out into the world, and you really can have no idea what meaning and personality and function it will take on once it’s separate from you. But you speak and love and hope and pray to do your best— and try again when you mess up— to build a relationship that will stay steadfast even when the world is endless spinning. It’s a centrifuge we are caught in, here on this planet, one that will try to separate us from all that is good and wholesome and healing: friends, family, art, hobbies, community.
And this is why I love house shows…because I usually leave them thinking like this, feeling like the world stopped spinning for just a moment. People show up because they are willing to put their time (and usually, money) towards friendship-building and music-making as an artistic pursuit. They are willing to sit close, lean in, share food and space. Blessed be the tie that binds and the folks that hold on tight to it…
Listen to Ryvoli and Ali Dineen online, and download their music at the links below.
Elizabeth Varnado is a musician and writer of things living in Lexington, KY. She is a member of Lylak, the indie folk rock four-piece, and occasionally adds violin and vocals with other musical outfits in town. She is currently pursuing a PhD in ethnomusicology at the University of Kentucky, with research focusing on live music and music festivals.