A&E

Hear the sounds that carry you A conversation with Andrew Scotchie

BY GARRET K. WOODWARD S TAFF WRITER

At just 28 years old, singer-songwriter Andrew Scotchie has already become a beloved fixture and voice of reason in the Asheville and greater Western North Carolina music scene.

Fronting his rock/soul act The River Rats, the ensemble is filled with a rollicking sense of self, this well-oiled powerhouse of electric strings and percussion. The message of the band remains one of optimism for our modern society through the lens of camaraderie and connectivity that is found at the core of music, especially when performed live.

And with the group’s latest album, “Everyone Everywhere,” Scotchie & Co. have harnessed the eternal hope and constant growing pains of America — a country still trying to figure itself out with a mirror currently placed firmly in front of itself.

If anything, The River Rats are finding justification in its mission to use the platform of an artist for the greater good, something Scotchie holds close to his heart and his aspirations as a musician and community activist whose talent and reach know no bounds — onstage and off. with the shutdown? You’re constantly on the move, but to be told to sit still is a tough thing for any touring musician …

Andrew Scotchie: Oh, absolutely. There’s been more time outside, which is crucial. And just really understanding my voice, the kind of way I pitch songs and everything. I’ve definitely written some really different things, [using] different quotes and just different approaches to songwriting.

I’m thankful right now and glad to have a family and friends [that] I have around me. You know, there’s some people that are stuck in major cities right now, [where] I’m sure it’s a lot harder for them. And I’m glad that my friends are involved and speaking out about the issues that matter — spreading the love and spreading equality.

SMN: Does that also show you a renewed sense of self, onstage and off?

AS: I definitely have a new sense of self. Surprisingly, I feel more at peace. You know, in the past couple of years [in] my early twenties, I spent way too much time working myself to death and never having free time to reflect.

Part of that was, “Oh, I have to work really hard now, so maybe later in my life I can have a little bit of breather.” And I think part of that made sense and the other part of it was kind of stupid.

Want to listen?

The new album ‘Everyone Everywhere’ by Andrew Scotchie & The River Rats will be available for purchase and streaming on June 26. For more information on the band and its upcoming performance dates, visit www.andrewscotchiemusic.com. well-rounded person, just overall more grateful for everything I have and know — past and present.

SMN: You mentioned about new approaches to songwriting. You’ve always been a very vocal person in the community — not only as a musician, but also as a resident. With everything that’s been going on, does that emphasize the platform you have as an artist?

AS: Absolutely. As an artist, it’s our responsibility to try to capture the times, to try to talk and to start a discussion. It’s [not about] shoving a message down people’s throats and saying, “It’s this way or the highway.” It’s about having a discussion — to spread love, joy and equality.

It’s really interesting because the songs on this new record talk about what’s going on right now. And [the album was finished] right before “all this” started. So, all those things were bubbling up, and had been bubbling up for a long time. This is definitely a record that is meant to make people think whenever they listen to it. And I try to write about those things as much as possible.

SMN: The album title, “Everyone Everywhere,” what does that title mean to you when you place it into the context of where we stand as a society in June 2020?

AS: The title came from an expression and a line that I had actually for a song. Hey, “everyone everywhere” has got something going on. And whether we see it on the surface, everyone’s got something that shapes them as a person and their past experiences.

There’s sometimes a story within a person that we don’t know. And sometimes maybe we’ll never know or it’ll take a while to get to know that person. I know that a lot of the issues and a lot of the changes that are going on — not only in our country, but the world — are affecting everybody. And one message we try to push in the music is of unity and togetherness.

But, I think right now, especially with so many people not knowing, each state is different when it comes to the pandemic, which can be extremely frustrating. People are kind of split. Some people want to go right back to things [like they were before]. Some people want to ease back into it.

SMN: But, everyone’s afraid. That’s the other thing, people are afraid of what’s going on, and they’re also afraid of not going back to normal, you know?

AS: Absolutely. And, if there’s anything I can help with that song, it’s to remind people that we are never truly alone. In these times of social distancing and these times of turmoil within our own people and our government, of falling hard and being challenged every day and trying to pick up the pieces where our leaders have failed — it’s really meant to bring people together and to spread unity.

It’s to recognize the fact that everyone everywhere has some kind of story, some kind of a message that they want to get across — and music has always been that platform for us.

BY GARRET K. WOODWARD

The Pemaquid Point Lighthouse in Maine. (photo: Garret K. Woodward)

Like the morning sun you come and like the wind you go

Somewhere between finishing my column last Tuesday morning and lunchtime, it was decided by my mother that she and I would head to the coast of Maine for a few days.

With my niece’s sixth birthday party on Saturday afternoon, and seeing that I was still hanging around my native Upstate New York, there was a short window for an escape to our favorite place: the small, serene cove community of New Harbor.

Jumping into her Toyota Rav4, we left Plattsburgh, New York, and hopped on the ferry over the majestic Lake Champlain to Vermont. From there it was Interstate 89 through the Green Mountain State, past Burlington and the state capital, Montpelier, all the while in the shadow of these ancient peaks of my youth.

It had been a while since my mother and I had time to just be by ourselves and chat. In her words, she and I “are cut from the same cloth.” Just a couple of free spirits who enjoy each other’s company.

Back in the day, when I left for college some 300 miles away from home, we’d take a trip once a year to somewhere, anywhere, just to spend time catching up: Seattle, Oregon, New Orleans, Hawaii, etc.

Crossing over the Connecticut River into New Hampshire, the sun was falling behind the hills. Pulling into Lebanon, we were able to find an Italian restaurant, Three Tomatoes, that was not only open, but also seating folks outside on the side street.

Each ordering (what we thought was) a personal pan wood-fired pizza, we were shocked when these enormous pies showed up and overtook the table. Though incredibly delicious, the majority of the pizzas were enjoyed as leftovers for the rest of the Maine trip.

Pushing through New Hampshire towards the Maine state line, my mother started reflecting about her best friend, Karen, who was a professor at nearby Dartmouth College in Hanover. When I was a kid, Karen passed away after a tragic accident involving her medical research on campus.

Although my mother would mention Karen from time-to-time, we never really delved into their friendship, at least not on an intrinsic level. But, seeing as there was still three hours of driving left to our destination, I started throwing out some questions about how they met as kids, what about Karen really drew my mother to her, and how their friendship blossomed over the decades.

For the next hour or so, I just let my mom talk, almost as if nobody had really ever asked her, at least in recent years, about how she was doing in regards to her late bestie. So many stories over so many years. One story that really stuck out was when they were in college in the mid-1960s and my mother had laryngitis.

Without being able to speak, the two of them headed to a bar in my hometown for some drinks and dancing. My mother would write notes on a piece of paper to Karen to communicate what she needed or wanted from the bar.

And even though Karen could talk and my mother could obviously hear, Karen wrote notes back, just so my mother wouldn’t feel left out being unable to talk. “She was just that kind of friend. She’d do anything to make sure you were okay,” my mother chuckled in a somber tone.

The next morning, sitting on a front porch in Maine, we sat with our friends from Boston (whose summer home we stayed at) and talked over coffee. It was a whirlwind of exchanges about our respective lives during the pandemic and how we’re doing (honestly feeling) during “all of this.”

Later that day, we headed down the road to Damariscotta for lunch. The only place really open was King Eider’s Pub, a spot I’ve been frequenting pretty much every summer since I was in high school.

Fond memories of conversations in those pub booths about where I might go to college and what I might want to do with my life, all circling back to the here and now of where I stand and who stands alongside me at this juncture.

Right before we headed back to New York, I stumbled across a small cabin for sale near our friend’s summer home. It’s always been a pie-in-the-sky dream of mine to own a cabin on the coast of Maine, a sentiment that’s been tucked in the back of my mind since I was old enough to drive and the only place I wanted to venture to was New Harbor, Maine.

The morning of our departure, my mom and I met with the local real estate agent and toured the property: a small two-story cabin with loft bedroom on 1.2 acres with private beach access. Compostable toilet with option for outdoor shower.

What more could a writer who’s a minimalist want, eh? Standing in the backyard, I could already picture and savor the memories that could someday be made here: happily and with gusto.

And just as we left the cabin to motor to New York, my mom wanted to drive by the nearby lighthouse. So, instead of going left and entering seven hours of our impending trek, we took a right and aimed for the end of Pemaquid Point.

On the edge of the shoreline, with waves crashing onto the massive rocks, we parked and gazed over at the lighthouse. It was as beautiful as I remembered, and as my mother remembered, too. Though I’ve been coming to that spot since I was a toddler in 1985, she has returned each summer since 1972.

“You know, seeing this never gets old,” I said to my mom. She turned to me and replied, “It doesn’t. It really doesn’t.” I then leaned over and hugged her. Back into the car. Back to New York. But, with more new memories in our back pockets.

Life is beautiful, grasp for it, y’all.

Time to stop worrying about COVID, Time to start worrying about... Sasquatch

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Haywood County Arts Council returns

The following events will be occurring at the Haywood County Arts Council in downtown Waynesville. • Through June 27: Haywood County Studio Tour Exhibit. The HCAC will proudly host artists from the Haywood County Studio Tour in the Gallery & Gifts space at 86 North Main Street. The show will offer a sampling of the work from 29 local artists.

The 2020 Studio Tour has been cancelled due to the COVID-19 outbreak, but the 2021 tour is scheduled for June 26-27. Participants work in diverse media including clay, fiber, wood, jewelry, glass, mixed-media, sculpture and two-dimensional applications.

The Arts Council’s Haywood County Studio Tour Show offers visitors a generous taste of what they’ll experience in June 2020. For additional information, visit www.haywoodarts.org/studio-tour-participants or www.facebook.com/openstudioshaywood. • June 24: Opening Day of “Auction for the Arts!” at Cedar Hill Gallery on Main Street in Waynesville. Free and open to the public.

The HCAC is holding its silent auction of original artwork from June 24 to July 11 at Cedar Hill Gallery. Bidding will begin at noon on Wednesday, June 24 and end at 4:30 p.m. Saturday, July 11.

All proceeds from the auction will go toward HCAC’s “Arts Now! Our Campaign for the Future.” The goal of the campaign is to establish a fund for the eventual purchase of a building large enough to provide gallery space for over 100 artists, an emerging artist incubator with affordable studio space, cre

ation space for youth arts educational programs, a dedicated music classroom, three additional classrooms and an endowment.

Artwork donated by Mark Matheny, Barbara Brook, Remi Dawkins, Cayce Moyer, Jerry Stuart, Diannah Beauregard, Gretchen Clasby, Mary Decker, Dominick DePaolo, Janice Huse, Jan Kolenda, Gregg Livengood, Susan Livengood, Jude Lobe, Francoise Lynch, Jeremiah Maitri, John Nelson, Dee Noelle and Debbie Skelly. www.haywoodarts.org.

Jonah Riddle & Carolina Express will perform on Aug. 14 in Sylva.

The organizers of Concerts on the Creek in Sylva have made the difficult decision to postpone the beginning of the 11th season of performances until the end of June.

Concerts on the Creek are traditionally held every Friday night from 7 to 9 p.m., from Memorial Day through Labor Day at the Bridge Park in Sylva. The first performance will be held by Geoff McBride & Scott Baker on June 26.

The series is organized and put on by the Jackson County Chamber of Commerce, the Town of Sylva, and the Jackson County Parks and Recreation Department.

“At this time, we've decided to reschedule the first four concerts until Saturdays later in the season,” said Jackson County Chamber of Commerce Executive Director Julie Donaldson. “We’re planning on beginning the series on Friday, June 26, depending on how the Governor structures Phase 3. We’ll keep you posted and look forward to being together again soon.”

The performances are free with donations encouraged. Patrons should bring a chair or blanket and prepare to be “Covid safe.” Food trucks are expected to be at some of the concerts.

For a complete lineup schedule of Concerts on the Creek, click on www.mountainlovers.com or go to the Concerts on the Creek Facebook page. These sites will be updated with any changes going forward.

• Andrews Brewing Company (Andrews) will host the “Lounge Series” at its Calaboose location with A. Lee ALSO: Edwards June 20, Mike Bonham June 21, Robert Ferguson June 26, Blue Revue June 27 and Woolybooger

June 28. All shows are free and begin at 2 p.m. unless otherwise noted. www.andrewsbrewing.com.

• Currahee Brewing (Franklin) will host The Corbitt Brothers 8 p.m. June 19-20. All shows are free and open to the public. www.curraheebrew.com.

• Elevated Mountain Distilling Co. (Maggie

Valley) will be hosting Bohemian Jean at 8 p.m. Saturday, June 27.

• Innovation Station (Dillsboro) will host

Mamaw’s Fried Pies 11 a.m. June 20. All events are free unless otherwise noted. www.innovation-brewing.com.

@Smoky MtnNews

Story delves into illicit affair and its fallout

About halfway through Kate Russell’s My Dark Vanessa (William Morrow, 2020, 372 pages), I nearly put the novel aside. Like many of my fellow Americans, I am suffering the coronavirus blues, a bit down from the daily reports, often contradictory, about death tolls, masks and gloves, social distancing, the shuttering up of schools, businesses, and churches, and the tens of millions of unemployed. My Dark Vanessa, the dark tale of a teacher and his student who become Jeff Minick Writer lovers, somehow added to my melancholy.

But I read on and am now glad I did so, for My Dark Vanessa is not only one of the best-written novels I have read in the last few years, but is also a brilliant portrayal of the tangled emotions and circumstances of such love affairs.

When in 2017 a former student accuses Jacob Strane, a teacher of English literature at the Browick School in Maine, the incident sends Vanessa Wye, now in her early thirties, into an exploration of her past and her relationship with Strane. She is 15 when she first enters the 42-year-old Strane’s classroom, and quickly develops a crush on him. She stays after class to speak with him, shares some of her poetry, and is thrilled when Strane one day touches her knee when she is seated beside him. They first kiss behind the closed door of an empty classroom, and after a time enter into a full-blown sexual relationship that ends disastrously for Vanessa.

The consequences of her love for Strane — and she did love him — follow Vanessa through her young adulthood. Her dreams of becoming a poet and a writer, encouraged by Strane, seem at a dead-end; she works instead as a concierge for a hotel, helping guests arrange everything from dinner reservations to rental cars. Her relationships with other men are also fraught with indecision and her past, haunted as she is by the love and consideration Strane had shown her.

When the news breaks that Strane might face charges of sexual assault, Vanessa recollects her feelings about him when she was young:

“I wanted nothing to do with boys my own age, their dandruff and acne, how cruel they could be, cutting girls up into features, rating our body parts on a scale of one to ten. I wasn’t made for them. I loved Strane’s middle-aged caution, his slow courtship. He compared my hair to the color of maple leaves, slipped poetry into my hands — Emily, Edna, Sylvia. He made me see myself as he did, a girl with the power to rise with red hair and to eat him like air.”

Now, with the explosive charges by others against her former teacher, Vanessa

finds herself sought out by a reporter who, having heard rumors of Vanessa’s involvement with Strane, wants her to step forward and join the accusers.

And here is where the questions from her past begin their bombardment of Vanessa. Had she committed some great wrong? Was the girl who had flirted her way into an older man’s heart a perpetrator or a victim? Strane, an adult and a teacher, had broken the law by sleeping with her, but hadn’t she willed that act as well, desiring him as much as he wanted her, finding with him a love she’d never before known? Had Strane groomed her, preparing her to be taken by his constant praise of her poetry, by confiding in her, by encouraging her to read Nabokov’s Lolita, perhaps the most famous tale of an older man preying on a girl? And finally, had Strane truly loved Vanessa?

By exploring such questions through Vanessa — and there are no easy answers — Kate Russell tackles broader issues of our day, the headlines and stories that so often pop up in the news. Is that 17-yearold who sleeps with her 25-year-old gym teacher entirely innocent? Is that aspiring young actress who has sex with a director to win a starring role in a movie truly a victim? And what of the woman who waits decades before coming forward to lodge accusations of sexual molestation against a powerful man? Of all these questions, however, one answer does become clear as we read My Dark Vanessa: Strane does not truly love Vanessa. Had he done so, a man of his years and in his profession would have acted as the brake on this romance, would have beaten down his impulses, would have kept Vanessa at arm’s length. He knows the possible damage their romance may do to her and tells her as much. And even if we can sympathize, if we can see that passion may sometimes smash into us as powerful and irresistible as a storm — “The heart has its reasons which reason cannot know” — had Strane truly loved Vanessa, he would have pursued her once she was of age, given up his teaching post and putting his heart ahead of his career.

Russell dedicates her book “For the reallife Dolores Hazes and Vanessa Wyes who stories have not yet been heard, believed, or understood.” My Dark Vanessa offers readers a giant step forward in understanding the Vanessa Wyes of the world. (Jeff Minick is a writer and a teacher. Minick0301@gmail.com)

I’M NOT JUST HERE TO PUT IN THE HOURS. I’M HERE TO PUT IN THE YEARS.

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