Article/Interview
Di Anne Price
February, 2008
by John Taylor
Photography © 2008 used with permission of Di Anne Price, all rights reserved.
"Keeping the Blues Alive Award"
Achievement for Blues on the Internet
Presented by The Blues Foundation
Di Anne Price Is A Treasure Indeed
Life's treasures are often found when and where they're least expected. When I volunteered to review a CD by Di Anne Price for Blues On Stage, I'd not yet heard her music. The disc - "A Good Man Is Hard To Find" - turned out to be a superb outing, Di Anne's smoky voice and rollicking piano leading "Her Boyfriends" through a set of standards straddling the line between blues and jazz and encompassing the best of both. Better, that review led to an offer to interview Di Anne. And that led to a delightful chat with one of the warmest, wisest, and most wonderful people it's ever been my pleasure to encounter.
Di Anne Price doesn't tour, at least so far; she's spent her entire life in Memphis, and all of her adult years playing music in bars, restaurants, stores . . . any place, in short, that will have her. She favours material of a bygone age, yet has the rare and precious ability to reveal something new in even the most time-worn of musical chestnuts, invariably finding the emotional core, the very heart of each song she sings. And in listening to Di Anne, our own hearts are somehow enlarged by the experience.
Memphis has long been known as a musical city, its reputation established long before a callow and fresh-faced young truck driver with the unlikely name of Elvis waxed his first recording at fabled Sun Studios and went on to change popular music forever. Di Anne Price recalls growing up in a household where music was as integral as air. "My mom, my grandma, my dad all played music. My dad could play anything. If someone needed a drummer he'd say "sure, I can play drums." He'd take any job around."
It was her mother, though, that provided Di Anne with most of her early education. "She'd help me, any time of the day or night. I can remember waking up and wanting to play. And mom would get up with me - she'd never say no, not now - and she'd work with me, even in the middle of the night." Some things came easy, others hard. "When I was little I had an ear. I could pick up almost anything. I don't really have an ear anymore. I still have short, stubby fingers, though. I needed mom's help just to stretch enough to make chords," she laughs.
Di Anne's musical education didn't stop in the front parlour. "I have a double major in sociology and music from the University Of Memphis," she states proudly, "but I still think the best education for a musician is on-the-job training. That's where I really learned to play."
While Di Anne remembers her father's differentiating between what he called 'good' music ("He liked Stan Kenton, Ellington, Red Norvo") and 'serious' music ("by that he meant classical, Mozart and all that"), Di Anne herself makes very few distinctions. "I think of myself as a storyteller," she explains. "There are so many songs that are haunting, that have adult themes, and I try to find a way to tell the story behind it all." It's a theme that comes up again and again in conversation. Yet while she'll tackle almost anything - torch songs, standards, ballads - that provides her with a narrative framework to explore, she has her own very personal parameters. "I won't do songs that have no hope. I love to sing the blues, but I won't limit myself to it. I'll sing anything, anything except the stuff that's all over the radio. Why would people listen to me sing it when they can hear the original version any time?"
"I've never thought of blues as 'downhearted music,'" she continues. "My mom used to say, "there's nothing wrong with that music." When I sing it I actually feel empowered by it. I learn something every time. And even in the sad songs I find the rainbow after the rain. It's all about the presentation. You have to roll with it. I'll say to myself, this sadness isn't going to get me; I cannot force myself to be downtrodden. If it's a song about 'my man done me wrong,' I'll sing it as though it's his loss, not mine!"
Di Anne considers herself fortunate indeed to make her living doing what she loves best. "I think everybody plays better than me, but they don't enjoy it as much as I do," she says with a chuckle. "I'm just happy to have a job, to perform in front of an audience. Some people are picky about the places they'll play, but me, I'm not picky. I'll play a hamburger joint if they want me! I just love to play. Even if no one else is listening, I'm listening."
Given the venues she plays, there are bound to be some who don't listen; treasures, again, are often overlooked by those in a hurry. Still, Di Anne's more at home in clubs, restaurants, even stores, than she is on the concert stage. "There's one place I play where the kids come and sit on the stairs - we call it the VIP section - and just listen. That warms my heart!"
Di Anne's been working steadily since retiring from her job as the social director at a nursing home. (One would guess she was very good at that job; while she asks that the tales she tells not see print, it's safe to say that rules were bent on occasion in the interest of "making people happy," a pursuit that seems central to her character). "I have no social life," she claims. "I don't go out much. I can't dance, and haven't been to the movies in years." There are no regrets, however. "I've managed to go through this world playing piano almost every night of my life." She's happy to do so in virtually any configuration, whether as a solo artist or with a band. Her current group, aptly named "Her Boyfriends," includes drummer Tom Lonardo ("I call him my 'partner in crime.' We met twenty-three years ago and have been playing together on and off ever since"), saxophonist Jim Spake ("I've known Jim for eight or nine years now") and bassist Tim Goodwin. "They're all very busy, touring here, there and everywhere around the world," says an obviously proud Di Anne, "but we play together at least once a week, and they always take care of me." Di Anne likens their accompaniment to the most intimate of acts. "Playing with them makes my back tingle. It's like making love," adding, with a sly, almost girlish giggle, "Can I say that?"
Each a strong individual, together they're more than the sum of parts, their support intuitive and deeply sympathetic. Returning to her narrative analogy, Di Anne says, "When we play, we're telling a story, and no matter where I start, they go with me." It's no wonder her 'boyfriends' are devoted to her; Di Anne's approach to songs is a nothing less than a sideman's dream. "I don't do any yelling or screaming or theatrics," she says, "the songs are strong enough on their own. They're timeless, and I always say if it ain't broke I'm not about to try and fix it. I don't try to reproduce someone else's version, but I do try to get to the heart of the song, to find the meaning in it that appeals to everyone." And to do that, she believes in playing it straight. "I want real drums, real bass, and I want it to be my voice that people hear, not something created in a studio," she explains. "When I play this music, sing these songs, I'm saying "share this with me. Share this story.""
Di Anne has just released a new disc, this one featuring songs requested by her fans; the title song, "Reekin' With Love," and one other were written by Di Anne's mother, with whom she still lives and speaks of with affection and respect. "I love her writing," she says. The rest of the playlist consists primarily of standards and what she terms 'cutie pies' - "you know, a little bit naughty but still nice." And Di Anne herself wrote one song in conjunction with Mr. Lonardo - "Elaine," a stark and chilling examination of a September evening in 1919 when a revolt by sharecroppers ended in bloodshed. It, too, has a maternal influence - "The feel came from my mom," acknowledges Di Anne. Written for a television documentary on the incident, it's the only song on the disc that isn't thematically consistent. Of the others, Di Anne says "It's the story of a free woman, someone who's been through it all, and now she's looking forward, ready for a new adventure." Even the leadoff track, "Key To The Highway," generally taken as a song about leaving a bad situation behind, has more to do in Di Anne's hands with the optimism inherent in setting out for new experiences.
Indeed, a sense of optimism is a part of every song she sings; there may be a hint of melancholy, but it's inevitably tempered by resilience, a strong sense of self-esteem. Di Anne divorced many years ago and has been alone ever since, but she's by no means lonely. "I'm too busy," she laughs, "but I won't say it wouldn't be nice to have someone in my life, just to spend a rainy afternoon with. I wouldn't even mind if he watches sports. Feminists might be outraged by this, but I'm very old fashioned - I love to cook for someone, to take care of someone; I'm very nurturing." She's both patient and philosophical about it all, though. "It might happen anytime," she says, "I'm sure there's someone. I just figure we haven't met yet!"
While Di Anne has no qualms about recording in the relatively sterile studio environment ("It's just about the music!"), selling a million copies isn't the compelling force behind the recording process. "This music is very important to me. I don't want it to die." And her commitment is absolute. "First thing every morning, before I do anything else, I go by my piano. I may not play it, but I just like to rub it, to touch it and make sure it's still there."
There's simply nothing that brings her greater joy than performing for an audience, yet Di Anne sounds humbly surprised that people reciprocate. "We had a big CD release party for "Reekin' With Love," she says. "There must have been five hundred people there. I felt so honoured that they'd come out to see me." She's currently looking forward to a New Years Eve engagement, clearly excited at the thought of performing for a crowd on such a special occasion. "It's like a dream come true," she says in wonder, "it's a fantasy!"
That same sense of wonder and excitement is amply apparent in every note Di Anne plays; it's that quality of discovery and unabashed delight, contrasted with an equally obvious maturity hard-won through experience, that gives her music such depth. There's never any doubt that she's seen her share of heartbreak, yet she's refreshingly undaunted, unjaded by life's hardships, still very much grateful for the gift of life itself.
"I live for my music. It's what I do, it's what I am. And I'd rather do this than anything I know. I'm fortunate. I love my life."
Di Anne may indeed be fortunate; but speaking to her, listening to her music, it's abundantly clear that we with whom she shares her stories are the ones truly blessed. Spend some time with Di Anne Price. Your heart will be a little warmer, your soul a little wiser, and your world a little richer for it.
Yes, she's that good . . .
Di Anne's discs are available through CDBaby, or through her own website at www.dianneprice.net.
Di Anne Price and Her Boyfriends: Press
Di Anne Price
Storytelling Piano PlayerI don't think of myself as a singer. I think of myself as a storyteller. I gravitate to songs that tell a story.
I was born, reared, educated, and held hostage here in Memphis — but "hostage" is lovingly said. Everybody wants to leave and go to New York or Los Angeles or Hollywood — they want to become a star. Not me. Oh, I've had a few opportunities to leave, but most of the time, I go the night before the job, work the job, and come right back — and be glad to come back! I've been only a very few places in my life: Toronto, Atlanta, Arkansas, Florida, and Mississippi. That's it! I just love Memphis. I'm pro-Memphis all the way.
I grew up in a big, old, rambling house. We had two pianos — a grand and an upright — and some other instruments. My daddy could play everything. His philosophy was: Just do the best you can.by Terre Gorham
photograph by Tom Lonardo
My mom still plays piano and writes beautiful lyrics. On every CD I make, we put a piece on it by my mother. Around the world, I have 17 various projects, and I always include something that my mom wrote.
Nonetheless, when it was time to practice, my mother sat with us as we practiced. Or she'd be in the kitchen cooking, but she always had those ears tuned in. She could hear everything that was wrong! She didn't praise you much, but you knew when you were doing something good. Growing up, there was always music.
When I first sat down to the piano, I was about 3 years old. We were picking this stuff up just sort of by ear as children do. Mom said that wasn't good, that we needed to learn how to read music. Mother showed us some things, but she was a smart woman. She knew that sometimes the parent is not always the best teacher. So growing up, my two sisters and I took lessons from everyone, and I loved it from the very beginning.
Sometimes I'd get up in the middle of the night, just because I wanted to play. I'm nocturnal — wide awake at night. I would tap my mother awake. She'd sit up and ask if I was okay. Then she'd say, "You want to practice, don't you?" and I'd say, "Yes'm. Do you mind?" She'd say, "No, but let's put on our clothes."
You see, we closed off some of the house and just lived in a portion of it to save heat expenses. Of course, the pianos were never in the part of the house that was heated! Socks, shoes, sweater, jacket — we'd bundle up so I could play. Mom would sit there with me for three, four hours. And I'm compulsive. I want to get it right. So over and over and over — can you imagine how hard that was for her? It wasn't bad to me because that's the way I am. But to the person who's not doing it? She never said she was tired. I think she knew that I wasn't going to rest until I got it.
But growing up, I didn't want to just play piano; I also wanted to be a singer.
I took voice lessons for six years. One day, my voice teacher said to me, "I kept thinking there would be something redeeming, but you're just not a singer." I was 11 or 12. I was hurt, and I ran away. It crushed me.
I did not sing in public for 22 years. I played piano, but I refused to sing.
I graduated from Memphis State, working day jobs and playing music at night.
I memorize my pieces, and I take liberties with the memorization, all right enough, because I have to arrange the piece so I can make a presentation. I don't take away from what the composer intended. I need it to sound recognizable — to me and to the listener. I have to find something in that piece that makes me want to tell that story. I read the lyrics first. But as I read the lyrics, I read the music and listen to it in my mind. I have to decide whether this is a story that is relative to me. Can I be believable in the presentation?
I worked as a director of activities at a nursing home for almost 30 years. Now, I enjoy playing for different types of facilities and connecting with the residents through music.
I've worked in music almost every day of my life for more than 50 years, but I've loved it and still do. I don't regret it. Nobody loves playing the piano more than I do.
The piano I prefer to play is an acoustic piano. I have a Baldwin. I like a piano with a mellow tone.
My favorite type of music to play is '20s, '30s, and '40s. And I like to do the obscure. If they can hear it on the radio, why would they want to listen to me doing it, because I will not — cannot — sound like anybody other than myself.
While I'm playing I don't even think about what my fingers are doing. They're just doing their own thing. I don't know how that works; it just does.
When I'm behind the piano I have a personality. I'm the good-time girl. When I'm not behind the piano, I have no personality. I'm the death of the party.
The first thing, every morning before anything else, I go to my piano and touch it. I want to make sure it is still there. I have dreams, nightmares about my piano. When daybreak comes, that's when I'm ready to go to sleep. I nod off. I have four clocks, and they all go off at different times. I sit straight up, swing my feet out of the bed, and I go to my piano. It's like I'm scared something happened to the thing I love most. I've been like that all my life.
My boyfriends are Tom Lonardo on drums — my partner in crime and my heart; the magnificent Tim Goodwin — the maestro — on bass; and the inimitable Jim Spake, the emperor of sax and one hell of a player — they all are magnificent! And I love those men. I feel very blessed to have the opportunity to play with them.
I have an affinity for a drummer who can use brushes. I'm a brush woman. If a drummer can't use brushes, I don't gravitate to him.
My first paying piano-playing job Away from the family? Macedonia Baptist Church. I was about seven years old when they started talking to me. I told them they had to talk to my mother.
When it comes to clothing I'm a dungarees and T-shirt kind of girl. That's the way I am all the time. I'm not a sequin kind of girl.
The most unusual place I've ever played was in a log cabin. The fellas and I played for an Arkansas State University hunting club on a weekend retreat, I believe. There was snow on the ground, and it was very rough, but they were all music aficionados and very educated. They knew their blues and jazz!
Playing the piano makes me feel empowered. But as soon as my time is up, I revert back to my introverted nature, packing up my things and moving on to the next job.
If I couldn't have been a storyteller I would have been content to just accompany, to just play. That's an honor in itself.
The person I most admire is Nancy Brinker. Her only sister, Susan G. Komen, died of breast cancer in her mid 30s. Nancy made a promise to Susan that she would never be forgotten. She then founded the Susan G. Komen for the Cure to educate and inform the public about breast cancer and further funding and research to cure it. I admire her love for her sister and for keeping her promise in such a remarkable way.
My three favorite radio stations: WEVL 89.9, the volunteer station; WUMR 91.7, the all-jazz University of Memphis station; and WMPS-AM 1210, Dr. George Flinn's station, which plays the music of my life.
I manage the stress of my profession by … I have no stress in my profession. I don't deal with managers, agents, technicians, makeup artists — there's no one telling me what to do. I just walk in, go to the piano, and play.
I have never gone to a colleague's performance and asked to sit in. It's very common with some musicians, but it's just not what I do. I like to go to support and enjoy whoever is performing.
My favorite subject in school was literature. I love to read.
The only time I would lie is to keep from hurting somebody's feelings. White lies. I don't ever want to hurt anyone's feelings.
My greatest achievement is surviving.
My favorite fairy tale … So many fairy tales are scary! "Rumpelstiltskin," Grimm's fairy tales, "Little Red Riding Hood," "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" — I mean, Hansel and Gretel are going to be cooked in the oven! To me, as an adult, they're all scary.
Success is … I don't know that I'd call myself successful, but I love to play my piano. Many people look at fame, money, and things they've acquired as success. I don't.
Behind the piano, I never feel lonely. When I think about all the people who have gone before me, who made it possible for me to have the opportunity to perform, they are with me all the time —all the time.
As I get older I am more grateful. I've learned to appreciate things more.
My favorite cocktail is grapefruit juice — on the rocks!
My final 2 cents … Be true to your goals. I think some people lose sight of that. Do what your heart tells you to do, and do the best job you can — every time. No matter what happens, never stop playing. Just keep the music coming, and play on.
KASU Blue Monday – Paragould featuring Di Anne Price and Her Boyfriends
Description
KASU has found the best kept secret of Memphis and is bringing her to Paragould. KASU’s Conductors Club event this spring will feature Di Anne Price and Her Boyfriends on Friday, April 23, from 7:00-10 p.m. at Atkins Celebration Hall, 101 South Pruett Street, in Paragould. Doors will open at 6:30 p.m.
Di Anne Price has been called the best-kept secret in Memphis, yet she has spent nearly 30 years on the city’s live-music circuit, playing everywhere from hotels and restaurants to outdoor festivals and nightclubs and now Price and Her Boyfriends will be in Paragould.
Di Anne Price is a native Memphian and a product of the city’s musical melting pot where she obtained the dazzling command of the bawdy hokum blues and vaudeville hand-me-downs.
Di Anne Price along with “Her Boyfriends” which includes drummer Tom Lonardo, saxophonist Jim Spake and bassist Tim Goodwin will be belting out her style of music for KASU’s Conductors Club event on Friday, April 23 at Atkins Celebration Hall in Paragould, Arkansas. "I live for my music. It's what I do, it's what I am. And I'd rather do this than anything I know. I'm fortunate. I love my life." Spend some time with Di Anne Price. Your heart will be a little warmer, your soul a little wiser, and your world a little richer for it.
The KASU Conductors' Club spring event invites listeners to see Di Anne Price & Her Boyfriends in performance, and to support KASU.
Conductors' Club members (those whose annual gift to KASU is $240 or more) will receive two complimentary tickets, and KASU will be making a limited number of tickets available for the dinner/dance event at $25 each. Tickets must be reserved by Tuesday, April 20.
For more information, to reserve your Conductors' Club tickets, or to purchase tickets, contact Todd Rutledge, KASU's director of development, at (870) 972-2807 or e-mail trutledge@astate.edu.
DiAnne Price / Pianist, Vocalist
By Tarrin_m, Tuesday, June 3, 2008
The first thing DiAnne does every morning when she wakes up, the very first thing, is “I touch my piano. I just want to make sure it’s still there.” Then she practices, while she’s still fresh, the ballads, standards, blues and jazz she’ll play tonight--and many nights--in bars and hotels around town, keeping careful track of lyrics, sets, and what’s ready for prime time. I’m not a good singer,” she says, though her devoted fans would surely disagree. “I’m a good storyteller.” DiAnne has had many jobs, from ice cream seller to music therapist, but only one passion--her music. She began playing peano by ear at age gour, and has played ever since. “Everyone in Memphis can do something,” she says of the talent that’s thick on the ground here, “but I don’t think they love it more than I do.”
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