Dar Williams Energizes the McCullough Crowd

Author: Gale Berninghausen

Editor's note: Leah Koenig '04 contributed to this article.
Dar Williams, smiling under the lights of the McCullough stage, enthralled her audience this past Saturday. Her performance marked a well-received return to campus, where she played first in 1992. Williams joked about how thrilled she was to receive $75 for that first gig, which she described as humbly attended. Last Saturday was a far more celebrated event, as Williams' packed show capped the festivities of the Ross Dedication.
Williams took to the McCullough crowd with the familiarity of an old friend. She appeared in tank top and jeans, looking much like a college student herself. Her music embodied many of the same sentiments of students' reality, but spoke with a wisdom gathered from life experiences beyond graduation.
Williams' songs connected with the eager audience through her impressive honesty, surprising humor and intimate portraits of life's idiosyncrasies. The lyrics and anecdotal stories that she told between songs were like the poetry of everyday life. She knew her audience because she is her audience.
Each song drew enthusiastic cheers and the anecdotal stories provoked roars of laughter. The inviting and comforting simplicity of her guitar riffs complimented but did not overpower her nurturing messages. Williams' command of the guitar may not distinguish her as the female counterpart of Jimi Hendrix, James Taylor or Tim Reynolds, but her voice and the meaning within her words set her apart from myriad contemporary female folk singers.
Following the impressive performance of Middlebury's own superstar, Anais Mitchell '04, Williams quickly won over the mixed crowd of students and faculty. Mitchell had entertained listeners with familiar songs that were likely influenced by her own love of Williams' music. Mitchell, who drove a Saturn that her friends affectionately dubbed "The Dar Car" during high school, could barely hold in her joy as she rocked out with "Calling You Out," "The Song They Sang When Rome Fell," "Parking Lot Nudie Bar" and others.
Williams then followed with "I Won't Be Your Yoko Ono," "Spring Street," "As Cool as I Am," "End of the Summer," "Are You Out There," "After All" and "We Learned the Sea."
There were several Williams favorites that were often requested at her concerts. One student excitedly yelled out, "Christians and The Pagans," a Dar standard. She happily obliged, but only on the condition that everyone dance without inhibition. Williams also played "Iowa" and roused the audience to sing along by gently teasing their insecurities about public performance.
The story Williams regaled her audience with before "High Schoolers Kick Our Butts" was both entertaining and insightful. But it was not until she brought down the house with "The Pointless Yet Poignant Crisis of a Coed" that the crowd truly knew she was speaking to the reality of college students and perhaps even life here at Middlebury.
Middlebury students who attended the concert can feel honored that a decade after first coming to our campus, Williams agreed to come back. Her show, although forced inside due to fleeting rainstorms, was a successful and free finale to the Ross Commons Dedication ceremonies and the Septemberfest activities of the weekend.
She was so well received that it's hard not to wonder if in another 10 years she will return once again. Perhaps by then, Mitchell will have become a folk musician to be reckoned with.