“Dear Readers” – the phrase that began many an editor’s letter in Dulcimer Players News.
I begin this second 50th Anniversary issue, however, not with Madeline “Maddie” MacNeil’s first “Dear Readers,” but with her as she first appeared, pictured in DPN Vol. 1 No. 5 (1974). The original caption reads,
“In the above photo, amongst the beautiful Shenandoah Mountains of Virginia, sits our friend Madeline Macneil [sic] playing her dulcimer. Maddie makes her living by performing folk music and most of her time is spent in The Shenandoah National Park performing at Skyland Lodge… Keep up the good work Maddie! Dulcimer Land needs you!”
She did keep up the good work, from when she joined the editorial team in Vol. 2 No. 3 (1976), to her first issue as the sole editor, Vol. 5 No. 1 (1979), to her final issue in 2006, and beyond, as she continued to perform and play.
In this editor’s letter, I continue to trace the history of the publication as it grew from a half page booklet to a full page magazine. I will let Maddie’s words guide you, dear readers, through the years, as they have guided me in creating this issue. Then I will share the words of others as they remembered Maddie, and add a few words of my own.
Vol. 5 No. 3 (1979)
There are at least ten stacks of paper (some dangerously sliding) on the table and desk. Green and white liquid paper bottles tilt drunkenly next to scattered pens (with felt tips, hard-head points, fine points, very fine points – but never the point needed at a critical moment). The postal scale rattles ominously every time the typewriter carriage returns. In other words, it’s press time for the Summer DULCIMER PLAYERS NEWS.
It has been a very interesting Spring. The editor loves working with the DPN beyond question. She also loves to play music and perform. Juggling both grand passions has been difficult, but not impossible. The only negative result, besides some very late nights that led to very early mornings at the desk, is the growing stack of letters I want to answer – and will answer, but not right away. There is a long list entitled PRIORITIES, and it’s growing longer. But that just proves the DULCIMER PLAYERS NEWS is living and growing. …
The DPN now – and always – needs your input in the form of letters, articles, drawings, and tunes. Perhaps you’re saying, “I sent in a tune almost a year ago and I haven’t seen it in print yet.” That’s very true, especially for tunes and songs. But I try to provide a mix of information and a variety of tunes in each issue. I think ahead almost a year considering approaches for each issue. Thank you for the thoughtful, interesting articles you have submitted in the past, and thank you in advance for the articles, letters, and tunes you’re planning to send in this year.
I’ve been tempted to print an “Orchids to the DPN” page just once, repeating your much appreciated nice comments about recent issues. The Spring issue generated many positive thoughts, and I smiled when I read each one. Thank you for your encouragement. …
As with many of Maddie’s old letters, I feel I could almost have written this one myself. The typewriter is now a keyboard, and it is the webcam that does the rattling when my managers (Martin, aged 3, and Mimi, now 1) come into the office and bump my desk while they inspect my work.
But the list of priorities is still growing longer, and there are still late nights and even earlier mornings as DPN, most fortunately, continues to live and grow. Input is still appreciated, as were the many, many kind words sent about the Winter issue. Thank you!
Vol. 8 No. 3 (1982)
This was the first full page issue. After announcing her marriage to Seth Austen, she wrote,
… Possibly you were surprised to find DULCIMER PLAYERS NEWS in a new format. I’ve had this in mind for about two years and decided I would take the plunge in 1982. There is comfort with old formats, and some of you will be sorry not to be able to tuck DPNs in a pocket or purse for reading on the bus. Others will be happy to toss away magnifying glasses and know they won’t need strong lights to read small print anymore.
… Dear hammer dulcimer friends. You may notice that you are not highly represented in this Summer issue. There’s a reason. You are not sending me material to print. Please share your building and playing techniques and interview interesting players and builders in your area. We will help you all we can with ideas, suggestions, editing, and encouragement.
I will take a moment to acknowledge the recent requests from several hammered dulcimer players for more representation. I remain committed to featuring both types of dulcimers, but my request remains the same as Maddie’s – please send me material to print!
Vol 16 No. 4 (1990)
In this letter you will see some names which appear many times in the DPN Archives and are featured in this issue.
In June I attended the Dulcimer Convention in Cosby, Tennessee for the first time in about ten years. It was filled with nostalgia for me, and so, in this issue, you’re going to be reading a nostalgic letter about my early days in our dulcimer community.
I attended the Cosby gathering for about five years, beginning in the mid-70’s. The hillside (it’s more like a mountainside while you’re climbing it!) was filled with tents and music and people who were exploring the dulcimer for the first time. We’d come there clutching our instruments, sure that we were about the only people anywhere around who had discovered and played “these things.”
Even then, early in our dulcimer careers, we’d branched out into what we liked best. I, of course, almost always sang with the instrument. Lois Hornbostel loved Irish music. Fred Meyer was, well, our rock and roll expert. Alan Freeman played a 5-string instrument in his own special style. Carrie Crompton played the prettiest Renaissance music we’d ever heard…
Many people I’d heard of I met for the first time at Cosby. Memory could be misleading me, but I think I remember the day I first heard and talked with Ron Ewing on the mountainside. And David Schnaufer. And Carrie Crompton. And Ed Stephens. Maybe Fred Meyer and Leo Kretzner. I do remember with clarity the first moment I met Neal Hellman at Cosby. (He probably doesn’t remember that moment; I was very shy.)
I didn’t meet Sam Rizzetta at Cosby; that happened at a community college about 10 miles from where I now live. It was in the mid-70’s. I was playing the guitar and singing at this little festival. Sam was there playing the hammered dulcimer, in the beginning days of Trapezoid. I’d discovered the hammered dulcimer a few months earlier, had asked around, and had learned that Sam Rizzetta built them. In a little Virginia town I’d never heard of. Don’t ask me why I automatically assumed that anyone building dulcimers had to be as old as the hills in which they lived.
That afternoon, I stopped Sam in a crafts area and told him how much I enjoyed the instrument. “I’m going to buy one someday,” I said. “I’ve learned there’s an old man named Sam Rizzetta who builds and sells them.” There was a short silence. Then this nameless man in front of me said, “I build them also. I’ll give you my card.” The blush still creeps over my face when I remember looking at that card and seeing, Sam Rizzetta, Hammer Dulcimer Builder. Of course, we were both barely 30 at the time…
In 1979, Bonnie Carol threw a dulcimer bash (the Rabbit Junction Festival) for lots of us – “Professional Dulcimer Players” – in Boulder, Colorado. We drove from the East and from the West to gather and meet each other. At that time, most of us in our lives as Professional Dulcimer Players didn’t get to fly. But, the miles didn’t matter; meeting and learning from each other did. Ron Ewing, Jerry Rockwell, and I drove out together. Word was out that we’d be meeting Sally Rogers and Joellen Lapidus and Robert Force and Al d’Ossché for the first time. Doug Berch, Kevin Roth, David Schnaufer, Fred Meyer, Alan Freeman, Leo Kretzner and so many of us spent days together, bonding lives and the music that meant so much.
A lot has happened to us. Some who were performing often, later decided to follow other passions and interests in their lives. Others who were just starting out have continued and have rather full performing résumés these days. Some married; some had children; some died, taken from us way too young. But all of us breathed life into and absorbed energy from the music and from each other. And because of that, nothing ever ends.
I consider us the Class of the 1970s. Those of you from the Class of the 1980s and even the upcoming Class of the 1990s add to our number, and we welcome you. Our thanks go to the Class of the 1960s and before who taught us and inspired us.
This issue of Dulcimer Players News is especially dedicated to my beloved friends and musical colleagues who graced those 1970s years with me. In addition to my always singing with the dulcimer (some things never change!), I guess I was elected one of the Class Scribes. Here’s to us.
Vol. 20 No. 1 (1994)
I’ve written this letter in my mind numerous times, putting off actually making it official. Efforts to be profound felt labored. A ha-ha-here-we-are approach didn’t work either. So, here is a reflection on endings and beginnings, a circle of sorts.
Even though this is the beginning of our twentieth year, it is simply a marking of time. As long as there are dulcimer players and builders there will be a source of news. Phil Mason began the DPN; I continued it; someone else will carry it on eventually. The really important part of all of this is the touching of individual lives. …
In 1974 I was a new mountain dulcimer player, introduced to the instrument by Ralph Lee Smith. A year or so later I met the hammered dulcimer through Russell Fluharty and Sam Herrmann. Those beginning years were wonderful, filled with enthusiasm and new friends. Today I tell students to look at their instruments each time they sit down to play. Look at them, recognizing the reason they purchased their first dulcimer. Sure, the frustrations come, the dry periods when nothing seems to grow. But everything of any consequence in life has its difficult times. Doing Dulcimer Players News is easier when I remember why I’m doing it.
This twentieth anniversary is a time to celebrate, to recognize our roots, and to begin again with the freshness we try to bring to each issue. …
In my last letter, I mentioned my early days collating on the ironing board that spent most of its time in the kitchen, loaded with stacks of paper. Someone reminded me of the times he was on the floor licking labels (thank goodness for some technology). Memories came flooding back. I’d casually suggest having a party at my house. Smart people ran through the calendar in their minds to see if it was close to the beginning of the quarter. If they were really smart, they had “another commitment.” …
Following are some vignettes from our early days: In 1978, when I had been doing the DPN alone for a couple of months, I spoke with the publisher (male) of a similar journal. He politely answered some practical questions about layout and printers, then said, “Look, Maddie, there is no way you, a woman, will survive with this magazine. Why don’t you just give it up now and save yourself some grief.” Perhaps that was a very important moment in our history. There was no way I was going to give it up! …
Happy 20th anniversary to us all!
Vol. 21 No. 1 (1995)
Time and technology marched on in the nineties, in the good old days of AOL and dial-up internet:
Remember the excitement accompanying our first issue of our twentieth year? Here we are, celebrating the beginning of our twenty-first year. Frequently I perform a favorite song: “Who Knows Where The Time Goes?” Sometimes I’m not sure why it goes so fast, but I do know where it goes.
Events in my life, happy ones and sad ones, are often chronicled through music. The songs might not sound different to the listener, but the poignancies intensify for me. Fortunately, there is no pinnacle with music, only growth. As long as I play, there is somewhere to go. That is time’s gift.
Dulcimer Players News. We will be here a long time, I hope, adding to your experiences and bringing people into your lives. You, in turn, inspire and guide us. Time might slide by way too quickly, but the camaraderie we dulcimer people share branches through our lives, bringing new tunes; new ideas; new insights; confidence, sometimes, to share music with audiences; and sheer enjoyment. Thus we, at Dulcimer Players News, celebrate twenty-one years of being part of your musical life.
On the subject of sharing, I and Dulcimer Players News are now part of America On Line. …
Immediately, I met America On Line folks such as Maynard Johnson and Judy Morningstar. They put out the word, so I heard from Randy Marchany and Tull Glazener on the Internet. Computers, fax machines (our new number is 703/6781151), On-Line, and pick-ups in dulcimers. Where to next? …
The day is exquisite as I write this (the Sunday we return to Standard Time). I want to stop working on the computer, to go outside and garden, and to enjoy the sunshine while it lasts. Since it might be icy and cold when you receive this, I’ll end with one last tale of summer.
It was August, and I had brought most of the fall Dulcimer Players News to Tabby Finch for editing. It was a lovely, sunny day and I sat on the deck reading Organic Gardening while she worked. I was wearing a red blouse and had my hair in two pony tails, bound with bright red elastics. All of a sudden, I heard zzzzzzzz a couple of feet from my left ear. I turned, face to face with a hummingbird. The hummingbird probably thought it had died and gone to heaven, faced with the largest red flower in existence. As we stared at each other it realized discretion was the better part of valor and it zzzzzzzzed off to look for the real thing.
Vol. 25 No. 2 (1999)
Maddie’s “springtime” letters are my favorite, and as I also grew up in Richmond, I thought I would share this one.
I grew up in Richmond where springtime arrived sooner than it does here in the northern Shenandoah Valley. My father, a confirmed Bostonian, must have longed for spring even in Richmond’s warmer climes. You could almost set your calendar. Some blustery day in early March or so my father would burst through the front door bearing a big bouquet of daffodils for my mother. We all knew that the flower vendors from southeast Virginia had just arrived on the street corners of Richmond bearing spring’s promise.
As I write this, Nall’s Farm Market is closed until March 15th and the sign for Meadows Farms says, “Open February 25th.” It’s January 22nd and I’m assembling the Events Calendar for the spring DPN. Each of the festivals reminds this winter weary dulcimer player that spring and summer are not far away. Daffodils are on the horizon… and tucked here and there throughout this issue to remind us.
It’s springtime here in Omaha as I write this letter in March – the daffodils and hyacinths started blooming last week and we had a small snow flurry this afternoon.
Vol. 32 No. 3 (2006)
This issue was the second to last issue that Maddie produced. It shows another side of a multifaceted person, as well as the power of music and coincidence in this world.
Those of you who know me personally recognize the glow on my face when I’m singing jazz and showtunes. Folk songs are special to my heart also, but I’m more often in the company of dulcimer players who primarily enjoy Celtic, old-time and singer-songwriter material. Then opportunities arise, and I mentally put on my glittery dresses and become a chick singer. An opportunity arose during the recent autoharp and dulcimer cruise to Alaska. My roommate, Sue Ford, and I checked out the piano bar, and the rest is history.
The pianist was incredibly good. lan McFarlane is from Scotland and now lives in Australia – but spends most of his time performing on the Holland America cruise ships. We hit it off, exchanged CDs, and (complete with the microphone) I did a few songs for patrons in the piano bar.
In a DPN issue about three years ago [Vol. 29 No. 3] I ran a picture of a glowing-eyed Maddie singing with the Royal Caribbean jazz lounge pianist. To keep your scrapbook up to date, here is a picture of Ian and me (taken by Sue Ford) from this year’s cruise!
I want to reflect upon the lives of two friends who are remembered in this DPN issue. Ron Cyr and I chatted via the phone just a few days before he went back into the hospital for the last time. He laughed and said, “I have some very interesting things to tell you about my hospital stay. You’ll think they’re funny. Or strange. Or something.” Now we’ll have to wait for that discussion, but I remember late-night phone calls from times past. We always had interesting tales to share, and I’ll surely miss them. …
Margaret MacArthur headlined at festivals and received awards for her performing, teaching and musical studies. Yet I remember Margaret’s face when she and I discussed bread and maple syrup – and life in general. She was at home when she sang and played dulcimer and shared her home and her self with family members and the friends who surrounded her.
On Thursday May 25th, two days after Margaret died, I went to the jam session at O’Hurley’s General Store in Shepherdstown, West Virginia. I played tunes with everyone and had a good time with my musical friends. But when it came to be my turn, I chose “River” by Bill Staines, wanting everyone to sing with me. The next time around I chose “Over The Rainbow.” These songs reminded me of my friends and their new journey – especially the last verse of Bill Staines’ “River.” I left about 9:30 p.m., and a man perhaps 35 years old left at the same time.
I’d not seen him at the sessions before (there are usually about ten musicians jamming and thirty or so people who come and listen). Outside he said to me, “Thank you for singing those songs. The words meant a lot to me.” I told him that I was reflecting on the loss of a friend two days before. He asked for my name and I told him; then I asked for his. He then said, “Tomorrow I’m going to the memorial service for a wonderful friend.” Then he hugged me and left. Music continues to draw us together in wonderful times and difficult times. Last Thursday I needed that reminder.
Following is the last verse of Bill Staines’ “River.”
Someday when the flowers are blooming still,
Someday when the grass is still green,
My rolling river will round the bend
And flow into the open sea.
So here’s to the rainbow that’s followed me here,
And here’s to the friends that I know.
Here’s to the song that follows me here;
I’ll sing it where’er I go.
Passing the torch
A letter from Maddie was included in Dan Landrum’s first issue, Vol. 34 No. 1 (2007). She wrote,
… Speaking of futures, they are about to grow after our journey together for more than thirty years. Our dulcimer adventures will continue and will expand in Dan and Angie’s hands, and our instruments will always inspire us. Dulcimer players, I thank you for sharing your stories with me and other DPN readers throughout the years. You mean more to me than I could ever tell you. …
Dan and Angie have wonderful ideas, and I look forward to learning even more from you as the years pass. I’ve told them, and I tell you, that Dulcimer Players News will always be in my heart. I’m here to help however I can. …
She wrote another letter when Ashley Ernst took the reins of DPN in 2018, reminiscing about the early days of DPN:
On more than one occasion several of us got together to put address labels on DPNs so I could take them to the post office. … Players and builders shared their musical lives and there were pieces on hammered and mountain dulcimer history and a treasure trove of lessons and music. …
If Ashley, her husband, John, and Dan and Angie had been in Northern Virginia in the late 1970s, I know they would have been with me there: caring, sharing music – and kindly putting labels on DPNs.
Over the rainbow
Maddie passed away four years ago. Her obituary ran in Vol. 46 No. 2 (2020). I am reprinting two of the memories shared at that time from two long-time DPN columnists and supporters, both pillars of the dulcimer community who have since passed away themselves, both of whom are also featured in this issue: hammered dulcimer builder and player Sam Rizzetta and mountain dulcimer player and historian Ralph Lee Smith.
Sam Rizzetta wrote,
The year is not important. Let’s call it 1990. For the umpteenth time Maddie MacNeil and I drove the twisted mountain roads of West Virginia to Elkins.
Destination: Spring Dulcimer Week at the Augusta Heritage Center.
The redbud trees were a splash of rosy glitter along the mountain roadsides, like a Jackson Pollock on the landscape. Locals were picking ramps in the forest, a ritual of anticipation for spring recipes and tonics. A physician in town once told me, with a sage look, “Cook yourself a mess of ramps each spring, and you’ll never need to visit the doctor!”
One sunny afternoon, students and instructors assembled in the chapel, a round rustic building with a high conical roof and ceiling. Seating in the round. A perfect place for dulcimers.
We listened to my special guest of the week, master musician Joe Fulator. He played his cymbalom, a version of the hammered dulcimer, and sang the traditional Hungarian songs of his family from Morgantown.
After he played for us, we played for him. Maddie sang sweetly. Hammered dulcimers and mountain dulcimers rang through open doors and out into the bright courtyard.
Joe sat next to me as beginning students played “Buffalo Gals.” There were 29 dulcimers almost together and almost in tune. Joe was amazed that there could be so many dulcimer players in the whole world, let alone beginners playing so well and so happily.
Maddie walked over to join us. They had not met, so I introduced them. Like the belle of a Southern ball, Maddie reached out her hand, smiled sweetly and gazed affectionately into Joe’s eyes. With an audible breath and the voice of angels, she said, “Ohhh, I am soooo glad to meet you! Your music was soooo beautiful!”
Hearts melted.
Immediately, Maddie was surrounded by cheerful students demanding her attention and drawing her away. After a moment, Joe leaned over to bump my shoulder and said, “I don’t know what it is, Sam. Either nice people play the dulcimer, or dulcimers make people nice.”
The April sun bounced off reflecting pools outside and slanted in through stained-glass windows. Birds sang their sweet songs of spring.
And Maddie was in the mountains.
Ralph Lee Smith said,
In the early 1970s after a decade of playing the dulcimer in Greenwich Village, I moved to Washington D.C. I had a gig at the Wayside Theater which was on Route 11 in the Shenandoah Valley and one of the performers was Madeline MacNeil.
Very shortly thereafter Maddie moved over to Skyland (in the Shenandoah National Park). I believe it was at Skyland that I told her she should play not the guitar but the dulcimer. I told her that she was the right person for it and her music and voice would be wonderfully complemented by playing the dulcimer.
Her first dulcimer is one she bought in the gift shop at Skyland. They used to carry dulcimers made by Bob Mize. Maddie bought one, taught herself to play and she was an instant success.
In her concerts, Maddie frequently told the audience she had learned to play the dulcimer from Ralph Lee Smith.
At the Skyland, people would first have dinner in a beautiful spot overlooking the Shenandoah Valley, then they would move into the taproom. It was in the taproom that Maddie made her reputation as a dulcimer player.
After one of her performances, a woman came up and congratulated her and said, “Your performance was beautiful, your voice was beautiful, and I enjoyed it tremendously.”
Maddie replied, “May I ask your name?”
And the woman responded, “Jean Ritchie.”
That’s a true story.
Ralph wrote another tribute a few months later in his “Tales and Traditions” column, her last “appearance” in the magazine. Here are a few of his touching words:
Madeline MacNeil, the great singer and dulcimer performer, died of a fall in her home in Berryville, Virginia, on March 22, 2020. At the end of June, after Maddie’s passing, I received a photo mailer from Missy Monahan, a Dulcimer Players News reader in Gainesville, Virginia.
Opening it up, I found a number of photos taken by Missy at a joint performance by Maddie and me at the public library in Purcellville, Virginia, on Saturday, Sept. 15, 2018.
The photos of me are of no consequence, but the ones of Maddie might be the last photos taken of her in concert performance. I am grateful to Missy for sending them, and I am glad to share them with you. …
Maddie then sang and played “The Wayfaring Stranger.” It is little known that this song appears in the 1936 edition of the shape-note hymnal “The Sacred Harp.” Maddie held up her copy of the 1936 edition, briefly explained the book and shape note singing and performed the song with deep feeling. …
Our audiences loved the program and adored Maddie. At Purcellville, they mobbed her after the show and walked away with her CDs.
None of us even dreamed how little time she had left.
Vol. 50 No. 2
Maddie was the editor of DPN for almost 30 years. In these few pages, I have only just begun to scratch the surface of the wealth of information in the archives during her tenure. Fortunately, you can explore them yourself as nearly 38 volumes of the DPN Archives are now available online at archive.org/details/dulcimer-players-news, with individual links to each issue at dpnews.com/archives.
I frequently hear from readers that they enjoy the ads as much as the articles. I know just what they mean – I learn almost as much about dulcimer history looking at the ads in the archives as I do reading the articles. I’ve included several vintage ads in this issue as illustrations.
There is a man from this era whose impact on the dulcimer community cannot be overstated, but whose name is conspicuously absent from the table of contents: David Schnaufer. I had originally planned to feature David in this issue, but a boost from Stephen Seifert to my request for memories exceeded my wildest expectations. Submissions came streaming into my inbox – first 6, then 8, 10, even 12 extra pages would not be enough to do them justice.
I realized that something incredible was happening and the best course of action would be to step back, ease off the deadlines, and take some time to put together something truly unique. Now in the works is a special David Schnaufer Commemorative Issue. Visit dpnews.com/david for more information on how to have your remembrance included, and stay tuned for more details.
I hope you enjoy reading this issue as much as I enjoyed putting it together.
Dulcimerrily,
Fiona Potts
There is no pinnacle with music, only growth.
As long as I play, there is somewhere to go. That is time’s gift.
