Julie Dougherty: In Print

Acton eatery goes acoustic with live music nights
By Margaret Smith
Arts & Calendar Editor
Gate House Media New England Northwest

On a mild Saturday evening, diners relaxed at Ichabod’s Café, ordering elegantly presented dishes of American and Middle Eastern food.

For Julie Dougherty, it was a night to work – and to play.

She played a mix of originals – such as a song of love and gratitude for her husband and musical partner, Woody – and covers.

She played an emotive and blues-layered version of “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore,” and asked audience members if they knew who wrote it.

It was a song made famous by Buddy Holly --whose name one audience member suggested.

Dougherty revealed the writer was in fact the prolific Paul Anka.

Not everyone in the audience was old enough to remember.

As a father sat waiting with his curly-haired toddler daughter, Dougherty saluted the tot and complimented her couture.

“Cool sunglasses,” she praised.

Dougherty, a musician by profession for more than 35 years, is a striking presence with her long, platinum hair and personable affect.

She’s a familiar face – and sound – in the region’s live music circles, singing and playing guitar, her play list a mix of originals and covers.

“It’s really been my living, most of the time,” said Dougherty, a resident of Salem, who writes and teaches music in her home studio.

She has released a CD and is excited about working a new one.

Her life as a musician began in the mid 1960s, performing with her sister, Kathy, at Boston area venues, and opening several times for folk pioneers, The Kingston Trio.

It’s not always an easy path, but it is one that satisfies Dougherty, who is proud of a career she has built by doing something she loves.

Last Saturday marked her second performance at Ichabod’s Café, a venue she said is part of a growing trend of live music finding a home in suburban restaurants, cafes and coffee shops.

“There are so many places popping up…if you can have a night out without driving into town and paying for parking, why not?” Dougherty said.

Ichabod’s Café is located at 166 Great Road, Acton. Live music Friday and Saturday evenings, 6:30 to 9:30 p.m. No cover.

Music Notes: Dougherty chips in for cancer charity

By Larry Claflin Jr.
Salem Evening News
Staff writer

As she has for the past 18 years, folk musician Julie Dougherty will entertain participants in the North Shore Medical Center Cancer Walk as they stroll for charity around Salem on Sunday morning. She'll set up in front of In a Pig's Eye restaurant on Derby Street at 8 a.m. and play guitar and sing, keeping an eye out for familiar faces while remembering friends and family she has lost to cancer.

"Sometimes I see people just once a year, and it's for the cancer walk, and it's like we're old friends," said Dougherty, who volunteers her time.

"I just feel like it's a way for me to give back to a community that I love, and I can do that through music," said Dougherty, a Salem native who has parked herself in front of "The Pig" during the cancer walk for the last decade. "And it reminds me that I'm grateful for my health."

Cancer has hit close to home for Dougherty — she's lost several friends to the disease, as well as her nephew, Christopher Mantsourani of Peabody, who succumbed to lymphoma at 33 years old in 2004.

Mantsourani had a heart transplant at 16, and, according to Dougherty, he wasn't able to have a public life after the surgery because of his depleted immune system.

Despite Mantsourani's constant health issues, Dougherty said he loved to run a camera for her Salem Access Television show, "Songwriters in the Round," which ran for three years in the mid-'90s. Her nephew held his own with camera operators from WGBH.

"That was the one thing that he did out in the world," said Dougherty, who added she developed a strong bond with her nephew during that time.

According to Dougherty, she began her music career in the early 1970s, when she and her sister Kathleen performed as the Dougherty Sisters. In 1978, the sisters drove out West with a bassist named Uncle Sid, stopping for a couple of months in Texas, where they had a five-night-a-week gig. Eventually, they made it to California, where Julie Dougherty remained for six months, playing music while living in her camper

"It was fun for a year, but I got really homesick, so I came home," Dougherty said.

Since the late '70s, she's played in duos, trios and with a five-piece country/rock band, Dougherty and Grace. She also spent a couple of years singing with the Boston Horns. Much of her recent work has been as a solo artist or performing alongside her husband, bassist Woody Woodward.

Dougherty said her last CD, 2003's "The Sweet Unraveling," was recorded when she "was really into Joni Mitchell," and some songs reflect that time. She'll begin recording her fourth CD this summer, and it will be based more in folk, country and some blues, she said. The CD will feature guitarist Bobby Keyes — who will also produce it.

In between studio sessions, Dougherty stays busy: She hosts In a Pig's Eye's open mike night on the first Monday of the month, as she has for 12 years; she also hosts the open mike night at The Grog in Newburyport on the first Wednesday of the month; and she has regular gigs at the Garrison Inn and David's Tavern in Newburyport, Nathaniel's at the Hawthorne Hotel in Salem, the Dolphin Striker in Portsmouth, N.H., and Elliot's Tavern in Gloucester.

Also, the Salem State graduate puts her bachelor's degree in business education to use by hosting workshops in songwriting, performance and various instruments, as well as giving guitar lessons and coaching vocals.

Live Review: Julie Dougherty in Newburyport

By Bill Copeland
Skope Magazine

Multi-platinum prominence may not be in the cards, but some North Shore stalwarts say plying their musical craft is more than enough. For now.

It has long been speculated that Salem's Hawthorne Hotel is inhabited by ghosts. Even so, there were none who dared make their presence known last Sunday evening - certainly not on a night when Julie Dougherty had grabbed hold of a guitar and a microphone.

For at least one night, even the most devoted apparitions had to cease with the spooking and take notice of singer/songwriter Dougherty, a longtime Salem favorite, whose dulcet tones and sultry style of country-folk-rock proved to be far more haunting to the audience at the Hawthorne Hotel Tavern than anything a few silly spirits could muster.

For her part, Dougherty was certainly no stranger to the room - at this point many of those ghosts may very well consider her to be an old friend. In fact, Sunday's celebration of her newest CD release, "The Sweet Unraveling," marked the latest in a countless number of performances Dougherty has headlined at the hotel during her three-decade musical career.

Undoubtedly, more than three quarters of the patrons who turned out to support Dougherty had seen her perform there before, and many of those people were perfectly content to soak up the atmosphere, sip their Merlot and carry on conversations while Dougherty poured out her heart and bared her soul on stage.

Others who weren't as familiar with her sound, and were subsequently floored by it, were left wondering exactly why the event was completely free to the public - and why Dougherty was still playing gigs in her hometown when it seems the words "major record label" should be stamped on her forehead.

It's a similar question to the one Billy Joel wondered once upon a time as he penned the lyrics to "Piano Man": "... and they sit and the bar and put bread in my jar and say 'man, what are you doing here?'"

A good question - one that haunts many the North Shore coffeehouse crooner, and one which Dougherty herself has a rather difficult time answering. Perhaps because the question is twofold: First, why hasn't she made it big? And second, why keep busting your hump if it's clear the record companies aren't going to come calling?

In Dougherty's case, there's no denying she's exhibited much of the look, sound and talent of just about anyone in the business. It's the rare Dougherty concert-goer who would doubt that she has that highly sought-after, yet largely indescribable "it."

"That 'it' has always kind of escaped me," says Dougherty, who will turn 54 later this year. "I've always been a little step-out-of-line, but I've been able to follow my own musical muse. I never really fell into a slot that was sellable. It takes an equal portion of talent and desire to do that. I don't have that gene."

Very few musicians actually do have that gene, if you ask Lynn musician Don White, who in the last 15 years has become a local legend in his own right with his quirky blend of folk music and comedy. He says there are thousands of Julie Doughertys in the world who make a perfectly good living perfecting their craft as musicians, but there ultimately isn't enough room in the world for them all to make it big.

"It's just too hard to make it," says the 47-year-old White. "I probably know 1,500 people who were good enough to get paid to do this and I bet I don't know 10 who are making enough money to buy a house or have a car to drive.

"But just because you say that doesn't mean you won't make any money," adds White. "It really just requires a re-thinking of what it means to be successful."

Lynn blues guitarist Mike Hallal came to the conclusion long ago that he was never going to be the next Prince. Not that Hallal ever had a notion to change his name to an unpronounceable symbol, but he had basically come to terms with the idea that he lacked what it took to garner true fame and fortune.

"I had already accepted that I wasn't going to be the next Beethoven or Bach so then I had to accept that I wasn't going to be the next Prince," says Hallal. "I had to accept that there's always a better player and there's always going to be genius players."

That's not to say that Hallal hasn't been on the receiving end of numerous accolades in his own right. His bittersweet musical tribute to his tortured life as a Boston baseball fan, "Red Sox Blues," has gotten its share of airplay locally. Having written more than 300 songs and played hundreds of gigs since he was a teenager, the 52-year-old Hallal may not be the next Prince, but at the very least he is a musical influence to other local blossoming artists.

Many of those very artists are the ones Dougherty sees every Monday when she hosts an open mic night at In a Pig's Eye in Salem. Even with more than three decades in the business, Dougherty says she never fails to be amazed at the talent that parades through on a weekly basis - some of which makes her wonder exactly how anyone ever gets a big break with the amount of competition that's out there.

"It amazes me how many musicians will come in who've just been playing for a year," says Dougherty. "They're just so together and they're so good. The competition is so fierce. I've been playing for 30 years and I wish I could play like that. It just puts everything into perspective."

The competition in the music business may be unparalleled, but rarely does that stop any serious musician from doing what they love.

Ina May Wool is a singer/songwriter who originally hails from Marblehead, but has since moved on to New York City to pursue her music career. Her debut CD, "Moon Over 97th Street," garnered critical acclaim in 1999 as did her second effort, "Crack it Open" which was released last November. In addition to the hundreds of performances she has played over the years, Wool has also toured the UK and Europe and played the Edinburgh Folk Festival.

Becoming a household name may be the driving factor for some, but Wool maintains that most musicians stick to their creative instincts simply because it's all they really know.

"How can you want for anything more than a song that helps people feel good about themselves?" asks Wool. "Sure, it would be great to have a song that sold a million copies, but it's such a great thing to be able to reach people and hear that your music is affecting them in a positive way. To me, that's what success is."

Which is exactly what happened for Wool in July of 2002 when dozens of cancer survivors - who have adopted her song "J'ai Gagné" as a sort of call-to-arms - joined in with Wool as she sang at a hospital in Exeter, N.H. Such a moving experience may come once in a lifetime for most musicians, but as Hallal explains, exploring the creative process is a prize in and of itself.

"We make the music because we have to," says Hallal. "What's in there has got to come out. It's as simple as singing in the shower or whistling while you work. It has its own rewards."

Just about every serious musician has had a close encounter with "The Big Time." People like Dougherty and White will gladly attest to that.

For Dougherty, it came in the 1970s when she teamed up with her sister Kathy to form "The Dougherty Sisters" - a group that toured New England singing primarily Irish music and even opened for The Kingston Trio. Her other big brush with fame came in the early '90s when she made several trips to Nashville; she nearly relocated there after placing two of her original songs with major publishing firms, only to return to the East Coast where she felt more at ease.

"When I was going down to Nashville a lot, I realized how much work and schmoozing you had to do 24 hours a day," says Dougherty. "There's a non-stop obsession that it really takes to make it. I knew I didn't have the personality for that. I'm a homebody."

Dougherty has indeed found her niche closer to home, and she's done so by exploring her own versatility. In the late '90s, she drifted somewhat from the country/folk image that had been her standard for most of her career and turned to funk and jazz - first joining the Heavy Metal Horns and then becoming a founding member and lead singer for the Boston Horns, a group that was twice nominated for a Boston Music Award.

Dougherty was also one of the driving forces in the late '90s behind the Salem Access Cable program "Songwriters in the Round," which featured renowned players like "Blood, Sweat and Tears" founder and Hammond B-3 organist extraordinaire Al Kooper. MTV it wasn't, but that doesn't bother Dougherty in the least.

"(The desire for fame) fades slowly over time," she says. "And that's not a bad thing. Over time, your life gets put into perspective for you and the older you get, you sort of put your priorities in order."

White, meanwhile, also flirted with the early stages of stardom when he signed with the record company Lyric Moon and subsequently released two CDs under the label - but for one reason or another, things just didn't work out.

"You're going to hear this story over and over again," says White. "People have a little flirt with it, somebody sinks some money into them, everybody tries real hard and nothing happens."

"I don't think I really came that close, in retrospect," he continues. "I think everybody intended for it to be that way, but aside from those intentions, there was no indication that I was really close. Maybe I wasn't good enough, maybe they didn't have the muscle to make it happen. Either argument is valid."

What White has done, however, is master the art of establishing a loyal fan base - something he says has become infinitely easier with the advent of the Internet. Through e-mail and online newsletters, White has instituted a following across the country, as evidenced by his recently released "Live in Michigan" CD.

If the mainstream fame should eventually come his way, White says he certainly wouldn't mind, but he knows it's something he ultimately cannot control.

"I don't have unlimited energy," says White. "What somebody of the 25th floor of a record company in New York thinks of me is not something I have any control over and it seemed like a colossal waste of energy that I didn't have. I just thought that if I built up a big enough fan base, they will supply me with what I need, which is a way to make a living."

Both Dougherty and White agree that most musicians will say publicly that their main career objective is not to "make it big," but rather just to satisfy their creative process by making good music. What they say privately, however, may be an entirely different story.

Perhaps, but ultimately, Wool says honing the craft is what's most rewarding for musicians, even if they never actually do see their name in lights.

"You just feel so rewarded by it," says Wool. "I feel so successful that I've been able to grow artistically with all the fantastic musicians I've met over the years. I never really got into the whole 'I want to be rich and famous' mindset. The important thing is that I just feel great when I'm doing it."