Celebrating the “Whole Harpist” this year, the 38^th Annual American Harp Society conference convened at the Hyatt in Dearborn, Michigan. This particular area boasts the largest Arab/Arab-American community. A short distance down Michigan Avenue reveals many shops, restaurants and other businesses dedicated to the community including the Arab American National Museum. And yet, inside the Hyatt, there were none. Similarly, I felt very strange in this place with America’s top harpists. The community hadn’t been all too kind to my kind. Reminiscing on my summers at Tanglewood Music Institute in Lenox, Massachusetts and the Camden Harp Colony in Camden, Maine, I was plagued with the image of scoffing blondes, eye-rolling brunettes and gossipy… blondes. “Why is she here?” “Is she lost?” “Is she a technician?” “Maybe she’s here to teach the improvisation class.” Ugh! Ignorance can oftentimes be confused with bigotry. And although I did encounter the typical “she must be here with someone” brush-offs, I also connected with some very unique individuals.

Sharing the space with hundreds of lithe harpists were bowlers. Not your usual pair. It may be true that you start to look like your profession—the harpists were straight-backed and wide-hipped while the bowlers… were beer drinkers if you catch my strike. *wink* This, my readers, was my first harp conference. Mind you, I’ve been a harpist for over 20 years and a member of the American Harp Society for many of those and yet… Somehow I felt strangely unwanted though never before had I attended. My many reasons for never attending many harp events in particular included my many reasons for leaving the classical world in general: no one looks like me, but when they look at me, they wonder why I’m here. I hated that feeling of being an outsider. Wasn’t music universal? Yes, sure, in some circles. But in America, the instrument was exclusively Celtic, or exclusively French, or exclusively something else European that had nothing to do with Black. But nothing with my shade of brown. Except the wood.

And so what, you may be asking, brought me to this particular conference? The dedication of my esteemed colleagues and mentors, of course. Among the host committee was Detroit’s own Patricia Terry-Ross and her protégé Maurice Draughn and Cass Tech successor Lydia Cleaver. Brandee Younger, whom some of you may know through her work in the jazz community, is a dear friend and closely connected to the harp community. She alerted me to the program and participants, many of whom were musicians of color such as Edmar Castaneda, a Columbian harpist hot on the New York jazz scene and Texas-based Rizpah Lowe, 1^st place in Lyon & Healy's 2007 Jazz & Pop International competition in Salt Lake City, Utah. The opening ceremony began with these gems.

While driving from Chicago to Detroit, I received a text from Brandee that went something like, “OMG a little black kid just played the hell outta the Pierné!!” (For those unfamiliar with technological abbreviation, OMG stands for Oh My God.” Her text summarizes the reason for my first (and hopefully not the last) reluctant steps towards the harp conference. The young artist was Charles Overton, a harpist from Virginia who has only been performing for four years. Now, if you don’t know “the Pierné” Impromptu-Caprice, it is a damn beautiful piece that’s also a monster, especially for a beginner. For him to get an “OMG” out of Ms. Younger is quite an accomplishment. I hope we hear more from this potentially great young man.

The opening program took place at the Henry Ford museum, a monstrous cave filled with silver plates (and yes, spoons), cars, furniture, etc. After a speech by Glenn Kurtz, which sadly echoed my own idealistic rise and fall from the pursuit of music performance, Calvin Stokes entertained us with his guitar, sax and drums quartet. Featured in the Special Issue 2008 edition of the Harp Column (Patricia Terry-Ross graces the cover), Calvin warmed the crowd with his smooth jazz renditions of Blues for Alice by John Coltrane, a number of Stevie Wonder tunes including the Dorothy Ashby duet If It’s Magic and others. (Are you aware that Alice Coltrane performed as a harpists as well as an organist and pianist?) Next, master interpreter Paul Stickney wowed the classical audience with his version of Debussy’s Danses, which was bluesy, folksy and damn original. I sat at the edge of my seating absorbing his technique and watching him, slumped over his harp. The program concluded with Edmar playing his signature style Columbian harp accompanied by trombone and percussion. As an encore, the trio jammed so hard, many of those who’d slept through the first ¾ of the program were compelled to shake a head or look approvingly at one another. For many, including the ushers, it was the first time they’d heard harp music that wasn’t typically angelic, ethereal or glissandi heavy. And thank the Lord. The “cool” harpists in the crowd felt justified in their decision to attend this year’s conference as did the seat-dancing youths of color sprinkled amongst the white audience of seasoned harpists and their constituents.

Rizpah Lowe performed for the Chocolate (no pun intended) reception sponsored by the Ford museum who’s latest exhibit is, well, chocolate. The fondue flowed as did the tunes which Rizpah sang (yes, SANG) including Nature Boy and Feel Like Making Love. The audience, mostly reciprocal after the two-hour concert, happily indulged in the chocolate fountain and chirped amongst each other. The soloists were surrounded by adoring fans, blacks clustered around Calvin and woman around Paul and Edmar. Brandee joked about blogging about the astonishing number of people of color present both in the audience and on stage. This continues to be our biggest gripe as harpists of color since we first plucked a string—we are crazily underrepresented anywhere around us although Myrtle Hart Society proves our existence in North America since the 19^th century. Thanks Myrtle.