RIP: David Surette
(October 9, 1963-December 20, 2021)
with a warm appreciation by Christopher Hislop in the Portsmouth, NH publication Seacoastonline:
David Surette was a talented mandolinist, guitarist, and musician from South Berwick, Maine. He passed away after a longtime battle with cancer. He was married to Susan Burke and had two daughters Isa and Julianna Burke who all played in a family band. One of New England’s finest guitarists, David Surette has been quietly generating a growing following for his work as a soloist. His solo albums Back Roads and Trip to Kemper helped establish him as a top player and arranger of Celtic fingerstyle guitar, yet his diverse repertoire also includes original compositions, blues and ragtime, traditional American roots music, and folk music from a variety of traditions, all played with finesse, taste, and virtuosity. He was equally at home on the mandolin and bouzouki, and was well-known as a top-notch accompanist in New England’s contra dance and Celtic music circles, and was also in demand as a studio musician and sideman. He was performed throughout the country at festivals, concerts, coffeehouses and contra dances, and in 1999 toured in Brittany, France. Since 1988 Surette enjoyed an inspired musical partnership with singer Susie Burke, with whom he released a duo recording, Sometimes in the Evening. He also played regularly with fiddler Rodney Miller, with whom he performed at the 1999 Smithsonian Festival of American Folklife, and with whom he released two recordings. In addition to performing and recording, Surette maintained an active teaching schedule, and was head of the folk department at the Concord (NH) Community Music School. He also taught at numerous summer music camps, including Augusta Heritage Festival (WV), Swannanoa Gathering (NC), Summer Acoustic Music Week (NH), and Valley of the Moon Scottish Fiddle School (CA). He was awarded an NEA travel grant in 1994 to study the traditional music of Brittany, and has written a book of Celtic guitar arrangements for Mel Bay Publications.
The following is a warm appreciation by Christopher Hislop in the Portsmouth, NH publication Seacoastonline:
An ode to late David Surette: Seacoast music scene mourns one of its biggest inspirations
By Christopher Hislop
Special to Seacoastonline
When I first moved to the Seacoast in 2000, I knew only a handful of kids at UNH that I grew up with. I didn’t know a thing about music communities — let alone that I’d take a deep interest in wanting to contribute to one.
At the outset, my contribution was as a fan. A listener. There was no live music to speak of in the small town I grew up in. I fell in love with music through the copious stacks of CDs and LPs my father had. Neil Young was an immediate favorite. Lou Reed another. The Band spent considerable time in my own stereo. Jimi Hendrix. Zeppelin. The Who. The Stones. The usual guilty parties … My mom wore out tapes by Bruce Springsteen and the Spin Doctors. And eventually I fell into my own tastes, but never strayed too far from what was an obvious part of popular music during a given period of time.
Coming to the Seacoast and seeing the posters of Dan Blakeslee left an immediate impact. I couldn’t grasp what independent music was. I was legitimately clueless. But my thirst for anything musical was insatiable. If a day went by when I wasn’t consuming it in a live format, my family and friends would ask to check my pulse. I don’t call myself a music junkie for the humor of it. I am. Buying up whatever CDs (people weren’t really pressing vinyl in the early 00s) graced every merch table from Portland, to Dover, Newmarket, Portsmouth, and Boston. My musical education was where I excelled. Which, ultimately, led me to failing out of UNH my first go-round. Turns out, going to shows every night of the week doesn’t bode well for getting your homework done, or studying for the next exam. Another lesson learned. Balance is key. I’d say moderation is important, too, but I needed to find balance without compromising my daily intake of music.
In his own words: Five Spot interview with David Surette
Anyhow, at one point I stumbled into the Barley Pub and found myself swept up in the instrumental beauty of one David Surette. Guitar, mandolin and a smile that was just as profound as the music he was making. A grin that lit up any room the man stood in.
Looking back:David Surette and Susie Burke mark 30 years of performing together
David Surette introduced me to music that I could consume while doing other things. Like reading. Like writing. Heck, thinking was even on the bill. This was a true “ah-ha!” moment for me. I wasn’t hip to the magic of instrumental music as a late teen and early 20-something-year-old. My mind was genuinely blown.
I didn’t introduce myself to David after that gig. I’m still very much a dude that hangs in the back—in the shadows—and doesn’t really do much talking unless spoken to. But it was in this moment that I wanted to know everything about this guy. What the heck kind of magic was he weaving here?
So, I did what any non-threatening fanboy does. I looked him up. Found out about the records he had to his credit, and, upon further digging, found out they carried them down the road from my Newmarket apartment, at Acoustic Outfitters in Stratham. I drove there the following day. I was after his record, “Trip to Kemper,” because I had suddenly found an urge to trace some of my Irish roots. When I arrived at Acoustic Outfitters, I made my way straight for the spinning rack thingy in the center of the store that had CDs stored in it. I found “Back Roads,” and scooped it up — wiping off a thin layer of dust that gave it some extra character. But, no “Return to Kemper.” So, I brought my selection to the counter which was met with a “that’s a fine choice,” from the clerk working the counter. “Have you heard “Trip to Kemper”?
“That’s exactly what I came in here for,” I said.
“I’ll get it for you. Come back next week,” he said.
I followed his instructions.
In Kittery: March Mandolin Fest, founded by David Surette, presents concert
When I returned, he immediately recognized me. Turns out, gigantic gingers don’t frequent too many shops in Seacoast, New Hampshire. We stick out a wee bit.
He pointed at me, as if to say, hold on, I’ve got what you’re after, while retreating to the back room. A few moments later “Trip to Kemper” was being hand delivered to me — by David Surette himself.
I hadn’t interviewed a single musician at this point in my life. I’m a terrible conversationalist. And I’m an even worse conversationalist when I’m caught by surprise. Further, things get even more questionable when I’m approached by someone I admired greatly. David friggin’ Surette. Apparently, if I’m remembering correctly, he taught some lessons at the shop. Hosted some clinics. That kind of thing.
So, for the second time in about the span of a week, David Surette blew my damn mind once again. The inviting warmth that he exuded. The way he eased you in to conversation and asked questions, and, more importantly, the way he intently listened to your response. He was an absolute gentleman. The coolest guy in every room he wound up in, even if he wasn’t trying to be cool at all. We chatted for a solid half-hour. And, he gave me his contact information. Told me to keep in touch, and heck, he meant it. I left the shop that day with some idea of what the word “community” meant. David Surette had ignited a small spark in my brain that has only grown in the decades that have followed. Working my way from a fan to an advocate.
Admittedly, I didn’t know David well. But we had many conversations over the years. He and his wife (and musical partner) Susie Burke have been gracious enough to do a whole heck of a lot of interviews with me over the years. Gosh, he and I must’ve done at least a dozen of ‘em in support of his annual Mandolin Festival alone. That’s a lot of questions about mandolins … I’m sure I wasn’t great at coming up with fresh ones each and every year, and yet, he always made it interesting. And him explaining to me that he recorded his 2010 album “Sun Dog” in his kitchen? Such mind-boggling badassery. I’d love to have been a fly on the wall for some of that.
More: Surette, Burke and Allyn reprise their concert series tradition
We also did many gigs together. And he came to many more shows I was involved with as a promoter. He was always “around.” Listening. Observing. Soaking up every moment. What I appreciate so much about David Surette is that he was not only a ridiculous world-class musician hiding out in this neck of the woods; he was also a fan. Like me. An avid listener. A dude I could nerd out with about music and not feel like I was boring the other party to oblivion. He introduced me to a world of new artists and modes of thinking about music in general. If I’m lucky, I might have even introduced a thing or two to him. He was eager to know what I was listening to, and also never shy to reach out and let me know that he’d read something I’d written and how much he appreciated it. Those simple gestures go such a long way.
I admired David Surette so much.
Correction: I admire David Surette so much. Because even though he’s gone, his indelible mark will be here for a good long while – through Susie, their daughters, Julianna and Isa, and the countless musicians he’s collaborated with over the years. David Surette was just one of the finest people to walk this planet. And I’ll forever admire the way he went about his business. Not an ounce of ego about him. He let his playing, warmth, and overall kindness do the talking. We’re all better for having known him, and, if he taught us anything, it’s to listen intently to those that care enough to share a thought or story with us. Listen with your ears and your heart. And don’t be afraid to fit a few good jokes in there along the way.
I credit David Surette with unknowingly pushing me toward a path I didn’t know I ought to take. I’ve existed within such an enriching and vibrant music community due in large part to the kindness one man showed me by hand delivering one of his albums to me and striking up conversation with a then stranger just because.
I’ll sure miss you, David. We all will.
Christopher Hislop is the longtime music writer for Edge Magazine and Seacoastonline.com and fosters.com. Local musicians have set up a Facebook tribute page for David Surette at https://www.facebook.com/groups/tunesfordavidsurette.
RIP: David Surette
(October 9, 1963-December 20, 2021)
with a warm appreciation by Christopher Hislop in the Portsmouth, NH publication Seacoastonline: