Concert review: Show brings music down from mountain

By TIMOTHY FINN
The Kansas City Star

Three hours before he'd take the stage, Ralph Stanley sat at a table near a busy souvenir stand, graciously obliging fans who wanted his autograph on whatever they could slide in front of him: programs, T-shirts, ticket stubs, scraps of paper, copies of his CDs.

Stanley was one of more than two dozen performers at Tuesday night's Down From the Mountain tour, a 31/2-hour, 40-song jamboree at Starlight Theatre that showcased several strains of genuine American roots music: bluegrass, Delta blues, Appalachian blues, old-time country, classic country-rock.

The tour followed the wildfire success of the Grammy-winning "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" soundtrack, which has sold nearly 7 million copies and which has made many of its performers born-again celebrities -- like Stanley.

After two songs from the Nashville Bluegrass Band, the crusty flatpicker Norman Blake and his wife, Nancy -- who's from the "cultural inferno of Independence, Mo.," her husband said -- reprised "You Are My Sunshine," his cheery valentine from "O Brother."

Alison Krauss and Union Station performed two cuts from her latest record, "New Favorite" (including "Let Me Touch You for Awhile"), before relinquishing the stage to Dan Tyminski, her guitar player, and his fellow Soggy Bottom Boys. They did an earnest rendition of one of the songs everyone had come to hear: "I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow," the hit that no one's playing on country radio.

The other soundtrack favorites got lively responses, none louder than the impeccable, a cappella version of "Didn't Leave Nobody But the Baby," by Krauss, Emmylou Harris and Patty Loveless.

"It feels great to know this authentic music is still alive and well," said Rodney Crowell, the show's emcee, who introduced all the acts and then, from the comfort of an easy chair, watched the performers parade on and off the stage, which was dressed only in a big red curtain and equipped only with microphones. No drums or electronic additives were used the entire evening.

Crowell participated in one of the surprise moments of the night: His cover of Townes Van Zandt's "Pancho & Lefty," featuring background vocals from Harris and Krauss.

Except for Dobro maestro Jerry Douglas, no one was more in demand as a special guest than the radiant Harris, whose mere presence brightens a stage the way her angelic voice embellishes a song. She was in the middle of several special moments Tuesday night: "Song for the Life" with Crowell and Krauss; a spine-tingling version of "Fair and Tender Ladies" with the Whites; and "Darkest Hour Is Just Before Dawn," from her recently remastered bluegrass album, "Roses in the Snow."

Amid all that, there were other stellar highlights: the Del McCoury Band's bluegrassed rendition of Richard Thompson's "1952 Vincent Black Lightning"; Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder's reprise of Bill Monroe's "Uncle Pen"; Jimmie Rodgers' "In the Jailhouse Now" by Crowell and the Bluegrass Band.

Loveless returned late in the evening and delivered some more memorable songs. Her voice appeared to crack as she dedicated a song to her late father and to other coal miners, "You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive."

Then came the man of the hour, Stanley, who seems impossibly modest for a man of his stature. He did yet another haunting version of "O Death," the song that earned him a Grammy, and then "Girl From the Greenbriar Shore," a cut from his latest record.

Loveless joined him for a jaunty rendition of "Pretty Polly," and then she and Stanley reclaimed "Constant Sorrow," giving it a more traditional and mournful treatment. Midway through, as members of the Bluegrass Band fiddled and plucked, the two singers danced arm in arm in a tight circle.

The evening ended with everyone on stage -- a spree of voices and instruments with Stanley, the professor and the saint, standing in the center, bathing in the music, the attention and the applause, looking like a man reborn.