The Making of Rising Appalachia
Rising Appalachia brings to the stage a collection of sounds, stories, and songs steeped in tradition and a devotion to world culture. Sisters Leah and Chloe Intertwine a deep reverence for folk music and a passion for justice, singing songs that speak to something ancient yet surging with relevance. Whether playing at Red Rocks or in rail cars, or at Italian street fairs, this fiercely independent band has blazed a unique and colorful path across the globe. 11 years into their movement, (and 82K fans on Bandsintown) Rising Appalachia believes that the roots of all these old songs are vital to our ever evolving soundscape.
We sat down with Chloe Smith of Rising Appalachia and asked her some questions about their experience touring as professional musicians for the past 8 years. Following this Q&A is a piece written by Chloe about the making of their band and how they became the world travelers they are today.
How did you start to build your live audience ? (transition from busking to selling tickets)
We busked for many many years 9-5 in the French Quarter of New Orleans as well as on the streets of Europe. We took it rather seriously and made schedules for ourselves, scoped out the best spots, tried out new songs, and generally watched passerbys interactions with our music to see which ones "caught". From there, we slowly made some connections and began getting asked to perform at various small concert rooms, farmers markets, family engagements, and protests and rallies. Our family partook in an annual Celtic Christmas concert in Atlanta which thrust Leah and I onto a rather large stage at Emory University in celebration of the musical connections between Appalachia and Ireland. I remember specifically being both utterly nervous to sing on a mic in front of 700 people. while simultaneously thinking "we should put out a mailing list on the table outside by our cds".
“I’d say from that point on, we began gathering the steam and the business savviness to make a living outta the beast called art.”
As all things, it was a slow and bulky transition to get to where we are now. We are no overnight success story, that's for sure.
What was your first memory of busking on the streets?
I can’t recall the first, but one of the best was busking on Royal St in New Orleans and generally running through out standard collection of the 10 Appalachian songs we knew on fiddle and banjo. At one point, a handsome man stopped to listen for a while with a curious smile and dropped a $20 in our case, which was a lot for a busking set. I looked up and it was none other than Mos Def, THE Mos Def, who I grew up listening to and inundating my ears with his righteous lyrical hip hop. He just said, "that's a cool sound" or something like that and walked off... while Leah and I of course picked our jowls off the street and watched him saunter off. That was always the best thing about living in that city. You never knew who you would run into, and everyone was so casual and supportive about art and music. The ego is different down there in the swamps, somehow.
How do you balance your touring and your personal lives? Can you give some examples of your best practices?
Well, balance is a verb, and so it takes constant tending to give our professional, creative, and personal lives equal attention. At any given moment, you are focused on one more than the other. That’s just the nature of life. But we do have our practices of retreat and renewal that we hold tightly to amidst the hustle.
“For the past 10 years we have taken winter's off in order to allow the muse to come in with a different form than performance. We dive into craft and quiet these months and gain a lot of inspiration and steam for the year to come.”
Additionally, we have some gears that turn differently than your standard touring artist out on the road. We tour shorter, say no to things that feel too hectic, stay with friends on the road, have a band literally built out of family and friends, etc. We do our best to keep our elders in the mix of our life now that it’s running faster. They provide great, invaluable perspective. We make sure we have teachers to keep us humble. And still, time is slippery for us all, right?
People always ask Leah and I how we started Rising Appalachia. Certainly there was a moment of inception for such a full time project. A solid business plan behind our nationally touring ensemble. But our beginnings were rather humble, less of a mark in the sand of "this is what we want to do for the next 20 years " and more of a slow public unraveling of what had been passed down to us by our family in Georgia. I won’t say that our music is all a passing down, as much of what we write and uncover is very much new and a reflection of our urban influences. However, having a backbone in creative work is such an anchor to the fleeting ego and we very much credit our success to that familial gift.
My roots are hot Georgia nights + back porch thunderstorms + contra dance festivals + womens sings at my living room table + underground Atlanta hip hop dance clubs + the sweat and lore of the zydeco dance + New Orleans costume flair and the city of brass + gospel sings and sacred harp conferences + my father's colorful bird sculptures and messy basement studio + and the poetics of Mary Oliver and Rumi. There is a deep mixture to the south as a region and as an individual I garnered a similar mixture in my childhood, bouncing between urban public school and rural Appalachian folk festival revivals. These things make me who I am, carved an early dent into my art and set me on a path of curiosity. Leah and I both traveled as young women, opting for a universal education over a scholastic one. Our parents didn't give us money to do these things, they simply encouraged a wider view point and helped us find volunteer opportunities abroad that were both safe as well as vital to a young person's perspective of the world.
From those early travels came the need to share our piece of home with the incredible people we met along the way.
“There are two ways of travel; one is to vacation rather lazily and perhaps gluttonously as an outsider to a culture, and the other is to show up listening with something to share if asked, some way to connect the golden threads of this life. Music is that universal language, and I learned early on how much it opens doors and forages friendships. Across language barriers. Across religious teachings. Across gender divides.”
Most of our early playing was busking or playing at farms in exchange for homestays or vegetables, or playing at holiday parties and festive gatherings of families. From there, I learned what a jewel a song is as an exchange. For me, it has never been about showcasing myself loud and proud on a stage. I have a much more introverted sensibility. It's been about opening doors to the mystic and the muse via a well crafted piece of music.
All this to say, Rising Appalachia was made by, and continues to grow from, the culmination of our storied south and our learnings on the road. We don't have a goal or a destination with this work more than letting it go to the places it wants to go to. I know that may sound a bit breezy, but it's the truth. We go where we are invited. We water the things that want to sprout. We let things fall off when they become too heavy. We lay alters out to the muses. We are democratic and family run. We circle up and sweat with our mentors and elders along the road. We take time to be still and be quiet in between the rushes. We see slowness as a certain gold. Leah and I have our eyes on every single part of this business and do our best to be both involved, informed, and aware of how things are growing and what is perhaps slowing.
“Our fans are our allies and friends across the globe and we garner strength from how diverse, intellectual, abundant, forward thinking, and grounded they are (we have lots of women and families at our shows.)”
On the business side, we take turns steering the loads of tasks that this project requires from us, and we utilize our strengths and weaknesses as best as we are able.
We are grateful along our routes, even when exhaustion sets in and we perhaps want to throw in the towel... get a few puppies... and sign off the public life. Always at those moments, some spark of inspiration comes in and reminds us of the greater pull of art to gather the people. It leaves our hands at that point, and releases out into something greater.
Connect With Rising Appalachia
https://www.bandsintown.com/a/6746122-rising-appalachia-music