Self-Made Woman
From: Riverfront Times

St. Louis, Mo.
April 5, 2006

If the whole is the sum of its parts — and, by extension, the artist the sum of her work — then Dar Williams is a tomboy who idolizes her babysitter, a God-fearing teenager, a disenchanted college student, a struggling artist, a hopeful single and an adoring mother all at the same time.

"It's important to relate, [to] draw from your experience or really think about how you want to write about something you haven't been," she says. "It's just important to get the essence right. I wrote a song about a college activist who goes out with a pothead, and that wasn't me. But you just have to figure out what you're really trying to say and how that relates to the song."

Williams certainly connects with her audience; to say she has a "stage presence" leaves the warmth out of her performances, like a wedding with cardboard stand-ins or a Christmas card with nothing inside. "There's something about making it accessible that seems to be as much a part of the performance as anything," Williams says about her always-entertaining shows. But she doesn't want to feel above her fans. "There's a way you can walk out of a concert where you feel sort of lorded over by someone. Even if it's that you're impressed, but you're intimidated."

Her latest album, My Better Self, has been called her most diverse, with its mix of songs that are bluesy, political and even daring. But Williams doesn't see it as particularly different — except that it brought together her studio and touring bands, the two groups that gave her the encouragement to cover songs such as Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" (a duet with Ani DiFranco) on the disc. Characteristically, within her voice and guitar still resonates a soft but strong message about the greater life experience in what she calls "a universal love story." She says, "A lot of love stories are about choosing yourself over a crappy situation and figuring out how to find your own authority in the face of other kinds of authority."

As her life and career move on, Williams says she's turning the corner of the serenity prayer, changing the things she can and accepting the things she can't. She's focusing on standing up for others and the person she is, valuing the quality of the interaction over polished results. As a mother, she's trying to strike a balance between being fastidious and winging it. For her, this crystallized during a conversation with a friend about the merits of milk, juice and vitamins for her son, Stephen.

"I said, 'Well, love is more important than nutrition,'" Williams says. "Then I thought, 'No, that's wrong. They're both important.' So much for all this improvisation, that as long as you love them you can shovel anything into their body. You've got to get into the science of it and be a bit of a perfectionist."

She then makes sure to clarify her last thought: "Ultimately, love is more important."
8 p.m. Friday, April 7. Sheldon Concert Hall, 3648 Washington Boulevard. $30-$35. 314-533-9900.