Sweetharp Santana

(ч? Sweetharp Santana By Robert Feuer In an August appearance at Sebastopol’s Ace in the Hole Pub, 19- year-old harmonica player, Sweetharp Santana, shared a stage with two veterans on that instrument, Sonny Lowe and Skye O’Bannon, backed by a full band, all grown men. The diminutive Santana, wearing a backwards beret and peace sign earrings, a mid-thigh gray skirt with metal hoops and black boots to mid-calf, looked like she could have fit her whole self into any of these guys’ socks. Having not appeared publicly in several years, Santana is engaged in something of a comeback tour of the county. The packed audience could have filled a room twice the size. About 20 of the people present were members of Santana’s family who are spread all over the county. Her parents were there, a sister, several kids, cousins, and an aunt. “Her great¬ grandmother is at home,” her grandmother said, “she couldn’t come.” Myra Santana Kirk (her full name) has been playing her instrument since she was six. “She would play it all over her hometown, Santa Rosa, in the car, in the park,” said her dad, one of five Eddies in the family. Myra is also her mother’s name. A female harmonica player is a rare event. Santana told me she picked it up from her dad and his friends, including Lowe and O’Bannon plus el maestro, Charlie Musselwhite. “They would come over and play. I learned a lot from them,” she said. “Getting to record with Charlie Musselwhite (who gave her the nickname Sweetharp) and learning from people like that are the high points of my career.” At the age of 12 Santana made the first of three stage appearances at the Russian River Blues Festival. In 2002 she joined her parents, both musicians, and Musselwhite, to produce the CD, “Ain’t Kiddin’ Around,” in a unit called Myra and the Red Hot Blues Express. The CD says it was released on Triple О Records, but it was actually recorded in Santa Rosa and Cotati, with studio time purchased by family contributions. Santana shuttles between her grandparents and her parents homes, in Santa Rosa and Sebastopol respectively. Her grandmother described the size of their local family as “countless.” One grandfather played music and her great-grandmother was a dancer. Santana is currently studying to read music and will be attending Santa Rosa Junior College next semester. “I’ll be taking classes in music theory, psychology and philosophy, but not all at once,” she said, unzipping her school backpack to remove a harmonica neatly tucked into the smallest pocket. “While in school I’ll be working with a new band with my dad, fusing Latin music with 12- bar blues, ska, reggae and swing, in a balanced way that everybody will to like. It will lean heavily on Latin rhythms and Carlos Santana type leads as well as old school Latin music.” “The harmonica is my favorite way to get out what’s in my head, like talking through sound,” Santana said. “On stage I get into my own little world. I love it.” At an encore Ace in the Hole engagement in November, her dad Eddie Kirk, also a harmonica player, took the stage for a couple of numbers. In hair style and dress, “he models himself after the ’50s Chicago blues bands,” according to Santana’s grandfather, Eddie. Later her mom, | in a cobalt blue blouse and hair a la the 60s girl group, The Shangri-las, sang a mean version of “Love Me Like a Man,” to the excellent guitar work of David Burke, Santana’s harmonica sound sailing over it all. At the August show Santana needed to borrow a harmonica from Lowe. “My harp had a broken reed,” she explained. “Eventually, if you watch me play, something always happens to me.” In November, O’Bannon asked her which key she wanted to play in and she said, “whichever one’s the funnest.” Watching Sweetharp Santana one views a young woman bursting with a joie de vivre that could take her anywhere. She’s standing on a vista overlooking a budding world where music is everywhere. At this summer’s Russian River Blues Festival she performed outside on Church Street in Guerneville, entertaining a long line waiting for the gate to open. She wore cut-off jeans, with a striped sweater against the morning chill, and a smile that wanted to hide but couldn’t. Behind her, her dad plucked on an old bucket strung with baling wire. ■