Harlem Street Singer

Directors: Simeon Hutner and Trevor Laurence

If you're like me, you might not have ever heard of the blues guitarist Reverend Gary Davis, who most likely would have remained unknown to the world if not for the efforts of legendary folkie Pete Seeger. But after seeing Harlem Street Singer, which is only now making its way to select theaters across the country, you may feel ashamed you haven't.

Scouring the world for footage, photographs and any history of the relatively unknown musician, directors Simeon Hutner and Trevor Laurence's exhaustive efforts pay handsome dividends; for their film falls into that relatively new documentary category of artistic genius unearthed. Films like Searching for Sugarman and the recent Finding Vivian Maier are powerful, fascinating portraits of artists rescued from near-obscurity by the indefatigable efforts of documentary filmmakers who recognized their uncelebrated genius. The Reverend Gary Davis joins those ranks though, unlike Rodriguez and Maier, he did experience limited success and acclaim in his lifetime.

Born in South Carolina in 1896, Davis' early life was shackled by the adamantine chains of poverty. Making an already difficult life more so, Davis' congenital blindness was a challenge but not an obstacle to his inchoate musical skills. Seeking any audience for his music, Davis would often play to the animals roaming the yard of his home.

Given to his grandmother by his parents to raise, Davis sometimes aroused her ire by turning her pots and pans into instruments. Demonstrating resourcefulness and a firm resolve to play an instrument, we see a guitar he fashioned from a pan, a makeshift fretboard and tuning pegs--pretty impressive for someone without sight--and monetary means to secure the real thing.

As Davis matured, he played where he could, mostly busking in the street, developing his talent and an expansive repertoire that allowed him to play for audiences with diverse tastes.

Later Davis moved to Durham, North Carolina, where he would often play in the tobacco warehouses for the buyers and sellers who would congregate after every harvest. His musical diversity proved an asset, for Davis could play tunes with a country flavor for the white crowds and blues for black listeners in his neighborhood.

Davis also became an ordained minister, hence his title. It is stated that he could be an effective congregation-leader, as his sermons and music could often be moving.

As one might expect from a blues-man, Davis' women troubles could sometimes be a source of emotional bitterness and in one case--quite bizarre as we learn his first wife left him him for another blind man.

Davis' relocation to New York had a tremendous impact on his life and music. The thriving New York folk scene of the late 50s' and early 60s' allowed Davis to play in clubs and audiences, which drew the interest of folk musicians--particularly Pete Seeger. Seeger's efforts to bring attention to the blues guitarist's music proved beneficial to Davis' career, as street performances gave way to cafe gigs and festival dates.

As Davis songs and distinctive picking technique attracted admirers and adherents, he also began teaching guitar. Many of his students not only became musicians in their own right but also a surrogate family to a man who sired no children.

Davis' new-found exposure allowed him to perform before larger audiences, like the 1965 Newport Folk Festival and shows in the UK. Unfortunately his death in the early 70s' cut short a career that had only begun to blossom.

Many talking heads, featuring former students such as renowned guitarist Woody Mann (also the producer of the film), folk legends like Ramblin' Jack Elliot and rock notables like Jorma Kaukonen of Jefferson Airplane and Bob Weir of the Grateful Dead, all weigh in on Davis' unique and considerable musicianship as well as his powerful songwriting. Kaukonen recalls seeing Davis' distinct playing style reinterpreted in Weir's playing.

Peter Yarrow of Peter, Paul and Mary also contributes to the story, as we see and hear the group cover a Davis' classic "If I Had My Way." In an extraordinary display of integrity, generosity and respect, the legendary folk group insisted the blues guitarist be payed royalties for their cover of Davis' song. The subsequent windfall, as someone is keen to point out, may have been the first time Davis earned any substantial pay for his songwriting. The money allowed Davis the means to buy his first home in Queens.

We learn from Davis's students just how profound his influence was on their respective careers. They speak of his generosity and tireless efforts to share what he knew. As guitarist Woody Mann points out, Davis' impact on his career was considerable but it was the father and son relationship the two shared that transcended the music. Referring to other young musicians under his instruction, Davis was reported to have said, "I didn't have children but I had many sons."

Davis' musical legacy is considerable. It gives us the opportunity to explore and to feel awe and wonder. We're lucky we have recordings of his music for posterity and we're just as lucky to have Hutner and Laurence's film; a revelation if there ever was one.