The Fremont Abbey’sbasement Café is a time capsule from the 60’s, a folky goulash of worn couches, dim lights and bright paintings. Bare branches in a barrel decorate the stage; empty sconces hang next to battered PA speakers. The seats are arranged in rows close enough that their occupants can breathe on the performers. Behind the bar supported on an old hardwood console stereo with a logo that reads “Obey” earnest…

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Picture, if you will, a humble instrument, initially made of wood, skin and gut, pirated thousands of miles from its origins to a land where it has come to be the butt of countless jokes, and yet a symbol of our nation’s racial history and musical fashions.

 

 

You're moving into a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition. It lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit…

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Kris Delmhorst is one of those performers you just fall in love with. Instantly. Doesn’t matter if you are straight or gay, young or old, folkie or urban hipster. You hear her voice, you see her smile, beaming moonbeams from the stage, catch the barely audible “thank you” she breathes into the microphone, like she is astonished that people like her music so much. And, like my wife said after about 10 minutes of Kris’s recent show at the… Continue

This post originally appeared in the June 2010 Victory Review, the acoustic music e-zine of Victory Music, a non-profit organization promoting acoustic music in the Pacific NW.



They originally met as students, most from the New England Conservatory, a place that conjures images of tuxedoed symphony players or black-bereted jazz cats. But they bring their masterful chops and sophisticated approach to… Continue