I play solo and with a few different groups. Check out Triptych, my trio with guitarist/bodhran player/vocalist Paddy League and percussive dancer Kieran Jordan. www.triptychtrad.com. When I play in and around Montreal, it's usually with the folks on my last CD: Eric Beaudry on guitar, Rachel Aucoin on piano, Eric Breton on percussion, Michel Donato on bass. Occasionally I perform in a duo with body percussionist and dancer Sandy Silva. I play in another duo with hammer dulcimer player Ken Kolodner. I also have a band with Nicholas Williams on piano and Eric Breton on percussion. We play for Scottish country and ceilidh dancing and we're called Les Joueurs de Bon Accord.
"Laura plays in a powerful, percussive style, with tight control and beautiful tone but bursting with energy and passion, turning reels into romps and slow airs into soul-searches."(Living Tradition)
A California native, Laura Risk began playing Scottish fiddle music as a teenager. Her love of traditional fiddling has led her into a rich journey of performing and teaching the beautiful and diverse repertoires of Scotland, Cape Breton and, most recently, Quebec, where she now lives. As evidenced in several highly-praised albums, her playing is extremely expressive and versatile, ranging from elegant music composed for 18th-century Scottish drawing rooms to driving strathspeys and reels suitable for a Cape Breton dance floor. www.laurarisk.com
After you've finished here, you may like to hear this poem sung on myspace...
Poem 162 of 230, WalkaboutsVerse (please see my blog): TEES TO TYNE: FIRST IMPRESSIONS - SUMMER 2001
Where traditions are not so rare; Sea, country and works scent the air; A multitude of monuments, Planted tubs and patterned pavements.
The longish pedestrian malls; The remnants of defensive walls; Historic buildings are a gauge Of the respect for heritage.
Wheat, rape and pines in the fields; Estuaries guarded by shields; Long sandy beaches and wide scenes; Romantic-ruin go-betweens.
Rivers in parts licked by trees, Or fringed by boat clubs, wharfs, gantries, And crossed by practical delights - Varied spans, forming pleasing sights.
Fine churches headed at Durham; Football kits ad infinitum; Kept castles - one for study; Masonry behind masonry.
And, with moulding-works out that way, It’s somewhere for a longer stay..?
After you've finished here, you may like to hear this poem sung on myspace...
Poem 2 of 230, WalkaboutsVerse (please see my blog): WALKABOUT WITH MY PEN
Once drove an old sedan, up north, From a place in Sydney to Cairns; Then to Kuranda I went forth, By train, to look without set plans.
I browsed through the trendy market, With fresh fruits of tropical kind; Walked to the creek through lush thicket - Nature’s hand giving peace of mind.
I dined in a scenic cafe; Then, outside, as I wrote for yen, Some passing Kooris called-out: “Hey, You go walkabout with your pen.”
Request or question, I don’t know - Assured voices, elderly men. That’s now several years ago, And I’ve seen the world - with my pen.
Hi Laura! Thanks for adding me. I see on your schedule you won't be in my area for a while... maybe I'll make it up to your neck of the woods one day. Happy fiddling! Susan
