by Kristina Campbell

Dar Williams doesn’t want, as she sings on her most recent album, to be "another mystery." So when her fans break into debate on the e-mail news group known as the "Dar-list" about whether or not their favorite folk singer is a Lesbian and if the topic is even appropriate for discussion, it makes sense that Williams herself would want to resolve that issue.

The answer is that she’s straight, and isn’t sure how a weekly magazine in Toronto ended up quoting her in September 2000 saying that she is bisexual (a report cited by the Blade the following month). But she makes no secret about the fact that for a long time, she kept her music and her on-stage stories pronoun-neutral so that all of her fans would be able to relate to what she was saying and singing.

"I never said I was bisexual," she says. "I kind of feel like the cat’s out of the bag. I stayed ambiguous really for the sake of solidarity, which I think was a good thing. I wanted my songs to be able to permeate all orientations and I thought that by not saying what my orientation was, that it would allow more people to identify with the songs."

In one song, "The Christians and the Pagans" on her second CD, Mortal City, Williams sings openly about a Lesbian couple. In her concert sing-along standby, "Iowa," she opens by declaring, "I have never had a way with women, but the hills of Iowa make me wish that I could," and often banters at length about the rolling landscape of that Midwestern state and how it inspires one to think about the female form. Equivalent examples in which she sings about heterosexual love or desire are not so readily found.

Williams says she is aware of the heated exchanges that erupt on the Dar-list about the issue, although she doesn’t read the list herself -- she believes she owes it to her fans and to herself to keep herself unaware of what exactly people are saying in that forum. When the topic of Williams’s sexual orientation comes up there -- maybe when a new subscriber asks, or when something in the news triggers discussion -- there’s always a contingent that insists that Williams has specifically requested that the Dar-list not discuss her sexual orientation or who she dates. For some, this feeds into speculation that Williams is a Lesbian or bisexual and not comfortable coming out.

During shows, Williams talks about her experience as a religion major in college and likes to say that she belonged to a different religion every semester. She sings openly about therapy in "What Do You Hear in These Sounds?" and describes a soul-searching journey to overcoming pain in "After All." In "What Do You Love More Than Love?" Williams sings about finding higher peace when love starts feeling "like another addiction." What’s missing is a song or a statement that declares once and for all who Dar Williams loves.

In a recent interview, she told the Blade that she has never been in a relationship with a woman, and she’s a victim of shyness, not the closet.

"The fact is," she says, "I’ve just been straight all along. And I kind of feel like I owe that honesty. … I was with my boyfriend recently and he said, ‘Why can’t you call me your boyfriend? Why do you call me your friend with a raised eyebrow?’ And I said, ‘I just get shy.’ I just don’t want people to know. And I think that’s fair enough. There’s a huge part of my life that I don’t mind people scrutinizing; I’ve gotten used to that. But there’s a sort of subset of things that to me are so personal I just can’t imagine people talking about it, things that are really personal to me -- who I’m going out with, whether or not I’m in therapy right now, and what my actual religion is."

Williams has gained increasing exposure since the release of her fourth album, The Green World. She recently changed management companies and thinks that may have something to do with her popping up on shows like Late Night with Conan O’Brien and CBS’s Saturday Early Show. But she respects the fears of some of her fans that she may some day become "too mainstream" and lose the personal touch prized by those who loyally buy her albums and attend her shows.

"I think it’s a valid concern," she says. "I’ve come to think it’s not a matter of alternative vs. mainstream as much as communication vs. commerce. … I understand the concern of an audience. I think when you’re in a performance career … you can get the fame bug or the money bug -- and it’s important in one’s career to not catch those viruses."

Yet Williams, who routinely makes herself available to fans for autographs and a quick chat after her performances, says she hopes to see her career advance to the point where she may have to scale back on the time she spends on such after-show appearances.

"I am actually getting to a point where I’m not sure if I can come out after shows as much, but I think that would still be more of an artistic choice than an isolation," she says. "I will if I can, but ideally there will be some time when I’ll be focused on things that will require that extra hour of the day. But as it stands, it’s an important part of my career. I enjoy meeting people and hearing their stories and finding out who this audience is. That makes me worldly."

In something of a tribute to that audience, Williams plans to release a live record this fall and will return to the studio early next year. In the meantime, she’s touring frequently, and will soon perform two shows at the Birchmere in Alexandria. One of her Birchmere dates, March 27, is a benefit for Horizons Theatre, a Virginia-based company that focuses on productions from a woman’s perspective and includes in its mission the aim to "reflect in our work the diversity of women and their experiences." Horizons is gearing up for the April production of I Want to Tell You, a musical that was "created to inspire dialogue around self-acceptance and tolerance [and] focuses on the special vulnerability of gay students and teachers in today’s high schools."

"I really think," says Williams, "this is a theater that is trying to unite all body types, all races, all backgrounds -- they want to tell stories. … I would really love this theater to be a model of united voices."

As for her own story, Williams continues searching for the perfect love, a feat that’s complicated by her busy tour schedule.

"I think that love is very hard," she says. "I don’t know if it’s because I travel so much or because of who I am, but I just think it’s really hard to participate in a great love story, to be really part of a great love. No, I think that’s just me. I think the traveling part makes it seem impossible to get a dog. But there are so many prejudices from the outside that keep us from being with who we love, and to me that’s just such a pain in the ass."

And that, she says, ties back into her desire for members of her audience to see her products as accessible, no matter who they are.

"I just thought that people in love were very lucky," she says, "and I wanted them to see themselves clearly in the songs."
 

This article appeared in the issue of: March 23, 2001 Copyright © 2001 The Washington Blade Inc. Reprinted with permission.