Janie, I'm sorry you feel that way. But I don't think Bob (Deckman) Nelson and I are the villains here. We've been deeply involve in folk music all our lives, Bob since he was thirteen and me since I was twenty-one. That was right around the late 1940s and early 1950s.

There were only a relatively small number of people around Seattle at the time—or, for that matter, in the entire country—who were interested in folk music, and when you mentioned folk music to most people, they thought you were talking about "Country and Western" or what the Sons of the Pioneers did.

The few folk music enthusiasts there were often got together to sing for each other and swap songs. Such gatherings, usually in private homes, were what were initially called "hootenannies." They were not public performances until music promoters pre-empted the word later on (early 1960s). And right from the very beginning, it was automatically assumed by everyone in Seattle's folk music community, and, for that matter, everywhere else (Berkeley, San Francisco, Portland, Boston, New York. . . .) that one memorize the songs before trying to sing them in front of other people. Including at "hoots," parties, and song fests.

No one ever questioned this. Nobody ever made a big deal about this or argued about it.

Bob and I have spent a goodly portion of our lives singing at get-togethers with other folk music enthusiasts. But we have also spent a great deal of time performing, not primarily for folk groups, but for general audiences. Concerts, television, and other engagements, along with coffeehouses frequented by all kinds of people, not just folk music enthusiasts.

In more than one coffeehouse, later in the evening we would often see people in tuxes and formals coming in:    the "after show" crowd, who had just come from a symphony concert, a recital, or an opera. And opera singers and recitalists do not sing reading from written music or carry song sheets around with them on stage. Professional performers, no matter what genre, are expect to know their material from memory. And since Bob and I were getting paid to do what we did, we were "professionals."

And, I might add, this goes for traditional singers as well. I've seen singers such as Jean Ritchie, Almeda Riddle, Mississippi John Hurt, and many others at folk festivals, and none of them sang from books or paper. They all sang from memory. So—memorizing the songs is part of the tradition.

In a group such as a song circle, where people just want to get together and sing, are not particularly interested in professional performing, and if they want to sing from song books, well, okay. Nobody's trying to stop people from doing this.

So, a lot depends on what you want to do and how far you want to go with it.

But I might suggest this:   when learning a song, sing it a lot at home. Try reciting it like a poem. Try to sing it without looking at the paper. If you blow it, read the line again, put the paper aside, and try singing it again. Keep doing that until you can get through the song without looking at the paper at all. Then, keep singing it without the song sheet until you have it down solid.

If you constantly rely on having the paper in your hand, it can become a psychological crutch.

Take a chance! Try working without a net!

Don Firth

P. S. Both Bob and I have a deep interest in where these songs come from, those who sang them, and what their lives were like, and I don't think anyone could honestly claim that we do not sing these songs with understanding, empathy, and heart.

P. P. S. Let me suggest a little thought experiment:   think of your favorite stand-up comedian. One who really cracks you up!

Now—think of him or her standing there on stage and reading their routine out of a joke book.