Delicate Downpour: A conversation with Dar Williams
Conducted by Tim Pulice
Inside Borders magazine
April 2003

Born in Mount Kisco, New York, and raised not far from New York City, Dar Williams took a somewhat winding, atypical road to a career in music.  After earning a bachelor of arts degree from Wesleyan University, double-majoring in religion and theater, Williams moved to Boston, becoming stage manager for the famed, now defunt Opera Company of Boston.  But eventually, she turned her attention to her own performance skills, taking advantage of open-mike opportunities at clubs to develop a lush vocal style that's been compared to Joni Mitchell's.

Following up her acclaimed 2000 release, The Green World-inspired by the landscapes near her former home in Massachusetts-and the magnetic concert recording, Out There Live, the politically active singer-songwriter explores fresh ground, literally and figuratively, on her sixth full-length solo album, The Beauty of the Rain (Razor & Tie).  Inspired by her recent relocation to the Big Apple and her new marriage, the recording features such high-profile guests as Alison Krauss, Bela Fleck, and John Medeski.  As Williams says on her website, "We took our time and built a real atmosphere of intimacy which we think comes through on the record."

*Talk about the impact of living in New York City.
Dar Williams: You have to accept this very different pace.  Suddenly, I realized that I've really been enjoying the faster pace of New York.  Everybody's on their way someplace: people talking fast, eating fast, working fast.  I grew up just outside of New York City and my family was actually pretty slowed down compared to that.  We had a big garden so there was respect for slow-growing things.

*I've read that the song "The World's Not Falling Apart" from your new album took a long time to complete.  Why was that the case?
DW: Frankly, all of my songs take a long time.  [Laughing.]  This one became really complicated, because I feel like I have three personalities at work.  One says, "Go back to the land; live in the hills."  Another says, "Work with the system but work hard."  I have a song called "Play the Greed" [featured on the various artists compilation Hempilation 2] which basically says: buy hemp, buy organic, do all those things, and then corporations will look like you because they're greedy and they just want to sell things to you.
So if you show them who you are, they will start wearing hemp themselves, putting hemp seats in BMWs.  Then there's this third part of me that says, "We don't have to see this as an us/them kind of world."  To me, that's why the song took so long, because you have to sort through all these things.

*In this increasingly tense political climate, is it difficult to maintain a positive attitude personally and with your music?
DW: In some ways it's always been this bad.  I've been told that this is the last gasp of the truly far right.  It makes me feel like 1984 came about 20 years later. [Laughing.]  I stand with my mouth open. [Professor-author] Howard Zinn said something really fabulous, that the counterculture is here to stay.  After Vietnam, the counterculture of people asking eloquent questions arrived and stayed.  I don't have to wander far to find other people who feel the way I do.  The guy who works at the garage where I keep my car in the city rants and raves about salt on the street-all sorts of neighborhood concerns-but then he'll go into a political diatribe, discourse and criticism about all the issues that are very close to the surface these days.

*Are you hopeful about the future of music, especially in light of how many schools have cut their music and arts programs?
DW: Well, alternative energy is sort of my latest activist outpost, but I would say music in the schools is going to be my next thing. Actually, I have a name for it, "I Pledge a Genius to the Flag," because music programs create geniuses.  Music makes you smarter, and prodigies will die like withering plants if they don't get a chance to find that outlet early on.  I think it's a bad sign about our country that, during a time of prosperity, we're cutting music and arts programs.  We're not a strong country if we're not strong culturally.  Hopefully, that will change.

Thanks to Jen Telischak for the transcription