I became an Alaska Folk Festival fan by accident. I was walking home from dinner at the long-gone City Café one night and noticed several people going into the Alaska State Museum. I went in to investigate and stumbled into the Folk Jamboree. I only stayed for an act or two before continuing my walk home.

I don’t think anyone there that night 36 years ago could have imagined what the Folk Festival would grow into from its humble beginnings.

The Folk Festival has always been one of my favorite events to attend and photograph. I’ve heard so much great music and forged countless friendships. Some festivals I tried to take photos of all the acts; others I have been content to sit and listen to music or visit with friends in Centennial Hall.

I have thousands of images of the Folk Festival, and it was a near-impossible task to pick the handful of images for this show. Every image brought back so many joyful memories in a “blinding flash of light,” to steal a line from the great Buddy Tabor. I remember the night Charlie Campbell brought the house down with Violent Femmes covers during a dance at the Armory. He was as hot as Chernobyl that night—every neutron was shaking free and blasting into space. His hair was flying like he was some medieval war lord charging into battle. When he flopped on his back, still playing his guitar, every girl in the house screamed with delight. I can’t begin to tell you how jealous I was of him that night.

My first published photo of the Folk Festival in the Juneau Empire was of the Rhythm Romancers playing a dance at the Armory in 1983. In that photo is my good friend Robin Dale Ford, one of my favorite Folk Festival performers.

My mom, Dorothy Wallace, died just before the start of the 2006 Folk Festival. While grieving, I attended the festival and was immediately surrounded by so many friends doing their best to cheer me up. That night Robin Dale Ford dedicated her set to my mom. The way she phrased her dedication still resonates with me: “This is for Brian’s dear mother, Dorothy.”

For me, the Folk Festival is a great sign of spring, like Easter and Passover or the first crocus blooming. To sum it up in one phrase: the Folk Festival is joy in its purest form.

I hope you enjoy these few photos of the many Folk Festivals I have photographed.

Brian Wallace

Dammed if I do

I had my iPod set to random play as I was cleaning my house on Saturday when a long forgotten song played and brought back a long forgotten memory.

I was driving back to my apartment in North Seattle from my Aunt Katherine's house in the Magnolia district. You have to cross the Ballad Bridge on 15th Ave. to head north from my aunts house. I got caught by the draw bridge as it was letting several large ships pass. It was going to be a longer than usual stop so I turned off my VW bug and stood out of the car to wait for the bridge to go back down so traffic could resume.

I was a student at the University of Washington and miserable. My housing situation was terrible and I was a so-so student at best.

I put a kick ass stereo system in my car and was always blasting music while I was on the road. My favorite radio station in Seattle was KJR. I liked to listen to the Dancin' Danny Wright show. On this cool November afternoon in 1981 when I was stuck on the bridge he played "Dammed if I Do" by the Alan Parsons Project from the album EVE. I looked to the sky as the song was playing and I saw Northwest Orient Airlines 747 climbing into the sky after taking off from SEATAC International Airport.

"I don't want to tie you down
Don't need a reason to have you around
But each time you walk away
Don't be surprised if I ask you to stay
Can't sleep alone at night
I just can't seem to get it right
Damned if I doAnd I'm damned if I don't but I love you
I said I'm damned if I doAnd I'm damned if I don't cause I love you"

At that very moment standing on the bridge watching the jet take off and listening to "Dammed if I do" I decided to drop out of the University of Washington. I suspect I would have eventually come to that decision but I made it then. Not because of the song it just helped me recall that big decision. When the bridge went back down I went to a travel agent and got a cheap ticket to New York City where I had a crazy fantasy of becoming a fashion photographer. When I recall those days I shudder and marvel at my naivete. I flew off like Don Quixote to conquer New York City armed with two Canon F-1 35mm cameras and three lenses and one back pack filled with my worldly possessions.
I somehow got into a fashion photography workshop at Parsons, The New School for Design. I quickly learned I didn't have the talent to become a fashion photographer. I was not angry about finding this out but I needed to try and get it out of my system. I had the greatest time of my young adulthood in NYC. I crashed most of the time at the Hotel Rio just off of Times Square. It was$13 a night or $8 an hour to stay there. Busted window, no curtan lots of roaches crawling over everything and when the wind blew you could smell the pidgeon crap. I was in heaven. I stayed in NYC until mid-April when my money ran out. During my last week I had just enough to go and see the musical "EVITA" The front row seat cost me $48. I saw it the day the Falklands War started on April 2. I made my exit from NYC and came back to Juneau with my tail between my legs totally defeated and about $18 to my name. Getting home was another great adventure but I will save that story for later.
I got back to Juneau and crashed at mom and dad's house. A few weeks later I got my job at the Juneau Empire as a photographer. I had that job for 27 years.