“Let it rain, let pour, let it rain a whole lot more, ‘cause I’ve got them deep river blues.”

It’s not raining, but the city of Sarzana, Italy is awash with musicians.  It’s 2:00 am and a meal that began at this lovely open air restaurant at 8:00 pm is finally, but sadly, winding down.   We’ve wined and dined, passed around guitars, and mainly laughed the night away.  Our large and boisterous group of old and new friends has joined the folks at the next table to sing the evening’s final song, Doc Watson’s “Deep River Blues.”  Our song leader nails Doc’s guitar arrangement, proving himself another of many Italians I’ve encountered over the past two days who have studied and mastered the work of the great originators of American music.  We end on a wistful note after we inform the picker and his friends of Doc’s current health status.  But, it’s a great way to celebrate Doc’s legacy and to showcase the magic that descends upon Sarzana during the annual Acoustic Guitar Meeting.

That magic has most certainly been present all day.  My day began at 10 am with Roy McAlister’s guitar making workshop.  This was the second two-hour session for the roughly 40 attendees.   I’d missed the first session and Roy had advised me, “These aren’t beginners!  These people know how to build guitars and their questions are always thoughtful.”  Roy wasn’t exaggerating.  The room fills with serious students of lutherie who immediately begin asking questions, which roy handles with modesty, humor, and insight.

After Roy’s workshop, I spend hours simply wandering this great, old castle, stopping in to try out guitars, chatting with luthiers, and simply watching the Acoustic Guitar Meeting organic whole do its thing.  I’ve not been to a music festival that had such a warm, communal ambiance.

At 5:30 pm, I present my talk on the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES) and related EU and US laws.  After observing the sophistication of Roy’s audience, I spent about a half an hour editing down my PowerPoint slides to a more modest number so that I’d be able accommodate the anticipated questions in my one-hour time allotment.  It immediately becomes parent that I’ve learned a good lesson from Roy: the questions come immediately.  It’s a good discussion and, given the omnipresence of note taking, I sense that folks have taken it to heart.  And, where else but in Sarzana could one get an accomplished luthier like John Weissenreider to serve as an interpreter?

After my talk, I stroll with my adopted Italian family of guitar geeks to the open air restaurant that will serve as my base until the wee hours.  The streets are filled and steps and doorways are jammed with musicians getting in a bit more picking before dining.  Recalling us from the night before, the waiters begin joining tables and dragging chairs when they see our group round the corner.  We slip into place and begin conversations where they let up last meal.  This really is a family.

After the first course, the guitars come up, singing begins, and the laughter becomes even more animated.  I tear myself away to scramble back to the castle to catch the set of two of my musical heroes, David Bromberg and Jorma Kaukonen.  Jorma does a solo set, David adds an animated set with his wife, Nancy, one of the siren voices of the Angel Band.  The crowd is enthusiastic, but when Bromberg and Kaukonen take the stage together, the applause reveals that this is what the crowd has been awaiting.

The courtyard becomes a big living room.  Well, it does if your living room is of medieval origins, sits under the skies of the La Spezia Province of Italy, and your moat sports thousands of fireflies during early summer evenings.  The artists on stage act like the old friends that they are and the interchange with the audience warm and familiar.

It’s a real treat to see these guys.  They may have lost a few chops along the ways, but the passage of time has added credence to their presentation of blues tunes and their styles fit together like a beautifully worn glove.  Kaukonen still sports the right hand thumb of doom and Bromberg is still expert at weaving brittle guitar lines in and around anyone’s playing.

They treat us not only to what we want to hear, but, as evidenced by their continuous grinning, what they want to play.  They segue from Reverend Gary Davis’s “I Belong to the Band” to what Kaukonon accurately describes as a loose interpretation of Jelly Roll Morton’s “Whinin’ boy blues.”  The tempos are causal and funky, the guitar interplay reveals two musicians who collaborate rather than compete, and the whole scene is, well, as charming as a couple of uncles expertly playing a few tunes for the crowd at a holiday gathering.  The two close out the set with what Kaukonen refers to as “a dulcet tune” that gave his 1960s acoustic blues duo Hot Tuna its name, Blind Boy Fuller’s “Keep on Trucking’ Momma.”

Of course the crowd begs for another tune and we’re treated to a Bromberg classic, “The first Time that My Woman Left Me (This Month).”  It’s a perfect selection for a last tune because its mixes the humor and funky blues playing that has come to define these two.

As I leave the castle, I stop to peer over the moat to make sure that the fireflies have not yet retreated into the night and then walk the couple of blocks back to the restaurant, hoping that my friends also have not retreated into the night.  I’m thrilled first to find the fireflies and then to see that our group has grown with the addition of several more people.

The food and drink continue to come and I even see a couple of more guitars have also found their way to our tables.  As I reach for a glass of wine – well, when in Rome, er, make that Sarzana – the true guitar geekiness of this event reveals itself.  A young Italian fellow picking a guitar a few tables away spots John Slobod among our group and, grabbing his guitar, runs over to John and asks, “Are you the Circa guy”?  The reference is to the vintage-sounding moniker John has bestowed upon his solo luthier company.  But, before setting out on his own, John worked for Dana Bourgeoisie and the fellow with the guitar knows that his Bourgeoisie was built when John was still at the company.  So, John happily favors the owner with his recollection of the guitar’s birth and even sits down and plays a tune or two for the happy owner.

We’re now nearing one am, but the party is not slowing.  Marcus Eaton, who will be performing tomorrow on the festival’s main stage, is now showing the group of musician at the next table a few of the tunes he has been writing with David Crosby for David’s soon-to-be-released CD.  Truly, this is magic.

We finally bring the evening to an end when the Bourgeoisie owner favors us with that Doc Watson tune.

There certainly are no Deep River Blues in Sarzana tonight.