“I don’t know if the reader remembers it, that favourite melody of the early eighties: ‘Sweet dreamland faces, passing to and fro, (pum, pum) Bring back to Mem’ry days of long ago-o-o-oh,'” -From Love and Mr. Lewisham by H.G. Wells (1900)
As I sat mesmerized on a Sunday evening, I wondered how they came to their name. I decided not to ask them, for as I listened I became convinced that somehow their name was a natural born description. It may also be an old song or a quote from a book, but sitting in the cozy confines of Circle A, watching at close range, I felt it was an apt name. Andy McCormick, a tall man with a bow, a carpenter saw and a mini megaphone making music. The otherworldly sound of the saw combined with his expressive face and voice are captivating. And then there is the irresistable appeal of Karen Majewicz. The accordion on her lap seems to hide most of her. You see her feet touching the floor, her hands pushing the buttons and keys, her face rising above the breathing bellows. She is moving with the accordion in complete harmony. Her face becomes one with the music. And then– And then she raises her head a touch with her expressive eyes wide open and begins to sing. And what you hear is hard to describe; for me it was enchanting. For Derek Estrada, who I saw at Circle A that night and later ran into, her voice is “a beautiful angelic instrument.” The tone wavers and may bring to mind cartoon characters like Betty Boop or Olive Oyl. But as my friend Paul Anders of Riverwest Accordion Club fame said, “It touches your heart.” Hey, if that isn’t enough to make you want to go see them, I don’t know what would. Welcome Dreamland Faces, I hope your stay in Riverwest and Milwaukee is as grand as your performance.