SCHOOLED IN MUSIC
How one dad’s passion turned into a career for his child.
Fathers, do not exasperate your children … bring them up in the training and instruction of rock ’ n’ roll.
— ( inspired by) Ephesians 6: 4
Some sons are gifted with a genetic predisposition for male pattern baldness, heartburn or, most tragic, an insensible passion for the Canucks. Not David Ward. His father, Robert, gave him an early education in rock ’ n’ roll, a relationship that prevails today in the lives of both, and in David’s case, has become his career.
David, 31, is one of Vancouver’s most promising and gifted musicians, a songwriter and song interpreter of extreme felicity. He has crafted a soulful- but- mystical sound unlike any of his peers. 2014 has been busy for David: tours of Canada and the United Kingdom, replete with critical raves from noted publications Mojo and Uncut, and the release of his second album ( Golden Future Time), have led to a slew of jazz festival bookings in Vancouver and Victoria later this month.
From an early age, Robert homeschooled his kids in music — and not just rock.
“I played what I wanted to listen to and if they didn’t like it they could go to their room. I didn’t care,” Robert, 70, says with a fatherly smirk on his face. Father Ward would fulfil his rock ’ n’ roll duty ( a basic diet of Stones, Beatles and CCR) but would add Glenn Miller and The Phantom of the Opera to the mix.
The Ward household was a musical one. Mother Kathi would hold baby David while dancing around the house to a Mickey’s Disco record or Michael Jackson. A handy man, Robert spent his downtime building stereo equipment as a hobby, littering the house with ongoing projects and a steady stream of music.
Robert chaperoned David to his first concert, a literal baptism of rock ’ n’ roll: Little Richard.
“They passed out bibles by the end of the concert,” says Robert with bemused reflection. “He was a preacher by then.” Neither remembers much more about the gig itself.
And together they have seen so many gigs they cannot even agree
I played what I wanted to listen to and if they didn’t like it they could go to their room. I didn’t care.
ROBERT WARD
MUSICIAN’S FATHER
which was first: Was it the Steel Wheels or The Voodoo Lounge tour? This is not the typical father- son dispute. This background would suggest that David’s foray into the arts was preordained. But for his part, David isn’t so sure.
“That’s impossible to say. I mean, is it in you regardless of your environment? I don’t know.”
There is no relationship in the life of a man as that with his father. Fraught with the complexities of tradition and the constraints of expectation, each father- son relationship is further challenged by generational divide. But one only needs to spend an evening with the Wards to see they have had no such trouble. In conversation, the Wards exude a comfort and ease that many families would find enviable. There is none of the expected hierarchical formalities between the two men. And they both seem utterly charmed by their counterpart. Robert dispels the notion that there is anything unusual about his relationship with his son. It’s simple, really: “David and I were always friends,” Robert says.
David’s seriousness as a musician and the extent of Robert’s encouragement can be noted in a timeline of guitar ownership. First was a cheap, no- name electric guitar David acquired when he was 13 and just messing around with a saxophone.
“I remember waiting until I thought you were serious ( about music), and then when I saw you were, I thought, yeah, it’d be worthwhile getting you that guitar,” Robert reminisces. Guitar No. 2 was the first special one.
“My dad walked into a store and because he’s a big Rolling Stones fan, he just said, ‘ What does Keith Richards play?’ And that’s why I play a telly ( Telecaster),” David adds.
The memory inspires a boisterous laugh, a kind of acknowledgment dads are prone to doing cool things for their sons.
Robert, a lawyer who practices commercial litigation, picked up David’s third, a Fender acoustic, from Ward Music, no relation but an old client.
“They bribed me to take a case,” Robert says. “Originally I said ‘ I'm real busy.' But ( The manager) knew my son had musical ambitions. And he said, ‘ I have a really nice Fender acoustic, a plug- in acoustic … you can have it.' ” That guitar is still used today by David in performance and on records.
Not every parent encourages their child to pursue the arts. Robert, from a postwar generation known for being pragmatic, was no stranger to music in the household. His own father had played banjo in a professional band before immigrating to Canada. Although Robert's own path was academic, he never lorded over his family a Dickensian sense of tradition.
“I never encouraged him to be a lawyer,” Robert says. “David works hard and he's a smart guy, but he'd worry himself as a lawyer.”
When asked if he would advise parents to encourage a career in music, Robert is diplomatic.
“I think it's very hard to give anybody advice. I know some parents who tell their kids to go to medical school. ‘ You're not going to be an actress or a pilot, you're going to be a doctor and that's it.' Who's to say that's right or wrong? It's not for me to say.”
He adds: “If somebody wants to do something, they should do it. They should try it. If it doesn't work, they can do something else.”
On June 28, David will hit the stage at the TD Vancouver International Jazz Festival.
You can be sure that somewhere nearby, Robert will be there, watching his son, his friend, doing what it is he loves to do. And from that stage, David will reward his father's encouragement by playing from his heart. Maybe he'll throw in a Stones tune for his dad.