Artie, a longtime Ithaca music scene veteran, passed on this magazine published in 1978. “The photo is not of the Barton Hall show,” he said, “but it is of a show in Barton Hall right around that time.”
Artie opened his briefcase, and took out three CD-Rs that he placed on the table in front of us.
“Well this was, as you know, one of the first ‘Betty Boards’ that widely circulated. As a matter of fact, I brought for you the soundboard of the entire show,” he said, nodding to the CD-R stack of three.
He pressed a fourth CD-R into my hands, and said, “But this is the audience that I prefer. There were tapers around. Many of them traveled some of the same social circles I did.”
“Personally,” Artie continued, “the soundboards are amazing, but on the other hand they are… for me I listen to recreate the experience of being there. The audience tapes crackle with energy. In fact I stood right there, and I can hear myself on the tape. So at times when I would yell, or the people I was with would yell, you can hear it.”
“In fact, people who have passed away…I…uhh listened to it today.” Artie was tearing up. He continued, “And I thought about one person I was with who was my best friend at that point, and who has since passed away, and you can hear him on the tape. He yells out periodically during solos. And in fact for me, that’s one of the most important parts of the tapes, when I will periodically listen to tapes.” He paused. “I don’t listen to tapes much anymore.”
“For most people, when they have special moments like this, there is no artifact. Their memory is their only connection to it. What a luxury I have to have this artifact. I play it, people who are gone are there with me. The space sounds the same, and the connection is amplified-it’s so much more real.”
“It’s a memory-reinforcing-tool”