Cardiffgal
08-15-2006, 07:51 PM
Wynnewood's Gene Shay was one of the founders of the Philadelphia Folk Festival. This weekend, he returns to host the 45th annual edition.
Shay recounted the festival's genesis. "I'm a co-founder. There were about five or six of us who got the festival started in the early '60s. We were all members of the Philadelphia Folksong Society, and we were looking for a new way to bring folk music to a larger audience and a way to raise funds so we could do even more to promote and popularize folk songs, ballads, and the like. We had been putting on concerts and had a regular monthly meeting, but we wanted to do something a little bigger, more of a higher profile event, like a weekend outdoors in the country with folk music and plenty of fun for the whole family.
"My old pal, David Hadler, came up with the idea of putting on a two-day festival. He was appointed chairman of that very first event, and he asked me to join him as co-chairman. It worked out just fine. He booked the acts and I worked on festival promotion and advertising.
"When Pete Seeger agreed to play our debut festival, it put us on the map," Shay recalled. "We had a large turnout, and suddenly a new tradition was born. By the way, the next year, I switched roles with Dave Hadler. I became the chairman of the 1963 Festival, and he was my co-chair. That year, I worked with a talented artist named Gene Ellick, and that gave birth to the smiling banjo logo that has been a festival insignia for years. It still smiles at you from so many colorful T-shirts."
Asked whether he ever envisioned the festival would still be around after 45 years, Shay shot back, "Never would have guessed it."
With a touch of irony, Shay chuckled, "When we celebrated our 25th year, I figured it was a lucky streak. But we keep on going and we try to reinvent ourselves in lots of clever ways. The management team that puts Philly together is well aware of the changing demographic, the shrinking audiences of old-timers who used to be our core audience but are just too busy or too old to sit on a hillside any longer. These festival honchos are full of imaginative ideas and keep freshening up how we present the music, who we present, and ways to make our audience, our campers, our volunteers feel good about the event year after year."
Shay says the volunteers are the most important component of the festival's success.
"This festival could never have gone this far without them. Most of those volunteers get rich rewards and an almost euphoric sense of accomplishment, seeing our event continue to flourish --though monsoons, heat waves, bad times and flagging ticket sales.
"Ninety percent of the people who run the show started here as volunteers. David Baskin, the festival chairman, started as a volunteer on the Parking Committee back in '62. All these people are still volunteers, working their asses off for a cause that is undeniably the best thing on earth, an event with such fun, good music, great discoveries, unending friendships. This is indeed the musical party of a lifetime. And its still rocks after so many, many years."
Shay is a veritable treasure trove of anecdotal fodder about the festival. "The funniest thing that I remember backstage was when Judy Collins came into the area in the back of a stretch limo, with four volunteers on each side walking alongside the auto for security. Janis Ian, who was sitting backstage observing the scene, yells out to Judy, 'Hey Judy -- this is a Folk Festival!'"
Shay recounted the festival's genesis. "I'm a co-founder. There were about five or six of us who got the festival started in the early '60s. We were all members of the Philadelphia Folksong Society, and we were looking for a new way to bring folk music to a larger audience and a way to raise funds so we could do even more to promote and popularize folk songs, ballads, and the like. We had been putting on concerts and had a regular monthly meeting, but we wanted to do something a little bigger, more of a higher profile event, like a weekend outdoors in the country with folk music and plenty of fun for the whole family.
"My old pal, David Hadler, came up with the idea of putting on a two-day festival. He was appointed chairman of that very first event, and he asked me to join him as co-chairman. It worked out just fine. He booked the acts and I worked on festival promotion and advertising.
"When Pete Seeger agreed to play our debut festival, it put us on the map," Shay recalled. "We had a large turnout, and suddenly a new tradition was born. By the way, the next year, I switched roles with Dave Hadler. I became the chairman of the 1963 Festival, and he was my co-chair. That year, I worked with a talented artist named Gene Ellick, and that gave birth to the smiling banjo logo that has been a festival insignia for years. It still smiles at you from so many colorful T-shirts."
Asked whether he ever envisioned the festival would still be around after 45 years, Shay shot back, "Never would have guessed it."
With a touch of irony, Shay chuckled, "When we celebrated our 25th year, I figured it was a lucky streak. But we keep on going and we try to reinvent ourselves in lots of clever ways. The management team that puts Philly together is well aware of the changing demographic, the shrinking audiences of old-timers who used to be our core audience but are just too busy or too old to sit on a hillside any longer. These festival honchos are full of imaginative ideas and keep freshening up how we present the music, who we present, and ways to make our audience, our campers, our volunteers feel good about the event year after year."
Shay says the volunteers are the most important component of the festival's success.
"This festival could never have gone this far without them. Most of those volunteers get rich rewards and an almost euphoric sense of accomplishment, seeing our event continue to flourish --though monsoons, heat waves, bad times and flagging ticket sales.
"Ninety percent of the people who run the show started here as volunteers. David Baskin, the festival chairman, started as a volunteer on the Parking Committee back in '62. All these people are still volunteers, working their asses off for a cause that is undeniably the best thing on earth, an event with such fun, good music, great discoveries, unending friendships. This is indeed the musical party of a lifetime. And its still rocks after so many, many years."
Shay is a veritable treasure trove of anecdotal fodder about the festival. "The funniest thing that I remember backstage was when Judy Collins came into the area in the back of a stretch limo, with four volunteers on each side walking alongside the auto for security. Janis Ian, who was sitting backstage observing the scene, yells out to Judy, 'Hey Judy -- this is a Folk Festival!'"