Vienna Carroll and The Folk
I’ve known Vienna Carroll for quite a while, long enough to appreciate the gift of her singing and storytelling. Her performances have reminded me that African-American artists carry a special responsibility: to narrate our collective past, particularly when revisionists try to diminish our place in history.
Vienna has an incredible voice, well-suited to that responsibility. As a Yale undergraduate, she could have pursued opera if that had been her inclination, but she majored in African-American Studies. Having learned music from family members, particularly her great grandmother who played along on guitar while listening to Grand Ole Opry on the radio, she developed a powerful sound that she delivers with ease and grace.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art has honored her talent, presenting performances by Vienna Carroll and The Folk, her wonderful band consisting of Keith Johnston on guitar, Stanley Banks on bass, and Washboard XT/Newman Taylor Baker on washboard.
Those performances, on Friday, February 24 and Saturday, February 25 at the museum’s Petrie Court Café, provide a rare opportunity to hear stories about the era of Seneca Village, the African-American community that existed before the Civil War in the area that became Central Park.
Vienna sings history, plain and simple, running up and down a range that would be the envy of any classically trained contralto, but surpassing that distinction with her unique American style. In “Strawberries and Glory,” she celebrates an escape from the suffering known all too well by her ancestors. She implores “angels in heaven to sign my name” in “I Know I Been Changed.” “Pretty Little Horses” poses as a lullaby, masquerading the story of a slave woman nursing a white baby.
Her hallmark piece, “Swing Low Sweet Chariot,” features a vocal that could easily be delivered a cappella, because her voice is that rich and strong. Instead, The Folk begin with a percussive riff, chanting with Vienna in hypnotic fashion, as if conjuring a circle singing somewhere in the woods, away from prying eyes.
Vienna Carroll bears witness to America’s shame and glory. She sings with ease, filling the room with joy in a way few others can.
