"Basically, I am Mayfly Records," she explains. "It wasn't hard to do, and that way my albums say what I want them to say." 1993's The Dream of Christopher Columbus, featuring works by modern composers such as Astor Piazzolla, Leo Brouwer and John King, drew a surprising amount of notice in classical circles for an independent release from a relatively unknown artist. A year and a half later, McDonald returned to the studio to record The Cathedral, a collection of works by Paganini, Barrios and Bach. Her renditions of those time-honored works resulted in three Grammy nominations. "That," says McDonald with understatement, "was a real honor." But even those hallowed compositions didn't interfere with McDonald's interest in having fun with her music.
"When Cathedral came out, I did the [release] concert at Ovations," McDonald recalls. "We had panels that looked like stained glass, and it was dark except for candles burning around the stage. Using effects like that is a lot of fun. I'd like to do that a lot more. I even" -- and she begins to laugh at the notion of a performer versed in Bach and Paganini having such audacity -- "did a concert not long ago where I used a fog machine."
"There's a very real need to take classical music to places where it's not expected," McDonald adds, even though she admits that "there are some problems with audiences that aren't acquainted with classical music -- sometimes people aren't sure when to applaud, things like that." At a recent juxtaposition of genres on Richmond Row, however, no such problems were in evidence. McDonald took the stage at Billy Blues following her friend Jerry Lightfoot, who was performing at his birthday celebration. Following a six-piece blues-rock band that's already fired up a capacity crowd could be intimidating for any solo artist, much less one playing an acoustic guitar into a single microphone. But moments into McDonald's first selection the noisy crowd had quieted. Her music had focused their attention. As she performed selections from Tico Tico, the hypnotic precision of McDonald's playing transformed what a few minutes before had been a rowdy roadhouse into a concert hall. Sure, the crowd hollered its approval along with the applause between selections -- you can't completely educate an audience in one short set -- but the unmistakable approval underlined McDonald's views about the untapped appeal of classical guitar.
Although the works of long-dead composers are obligatory for classical performers, McDonald prefers "finding things that haven't been recorded before." She's found South America to be a fertile field for contemporary classical composers; Tico Tico mixes hints of flamenco and tango to enliven the rigid, complex structure of compositions such as Morel's "Romance Criollo" and Guimaraes' aptly named "Sound of Bells." If classical guitar's appeal had to be summarized in a word, that word would be "hypnotic" -- but the hypnosis induced by Tico Tico leaves the subject entranced with a smile. It's most evident on the title track -- a composition from the soundtrack of the film comedy Club Havana. It's an impressive work, one obviously far beyond the skills of most guitarists, but it's still somehow infectiously funny. "It's just that whole Carmen Miranda [who starred in the film] thing," McDonald says. "It's about a bird who gets in the granary and eats up all the grain. For some reason I have this bird thing happening. My view of music is ... music is such an ornament, it can mean a lot more than that, but music should make you feel better, like someplace with bright colors will make you feel better and birds are so colorful and free. It all just goes together."
It's a rather carefree explanation of a lifelong obsession, especially one with costs that might be missed by a casual observer. Classical guitars, which are plucked, not picked, require an obsessive concern for the player's hands and fingers. McDonald cites a very bad year when she was afflicted with tendinitis -- in her left hand. A right-handed classical guitarist, you see, does everything except play guitar with the left. "That was rough," she says, before mourning "I would love to bowl, but I can't because it's so bad for the wrist. Volleyball, where you can jam your fingers, is another activity that I can't risk."
McDonald's regrets about the limitations her art puts on her lifestyle, though, are minimal. The sorrows of a lifetime of refraining from volleyball and bowling pale beside having unrepentant fun in a concert hall; McDonald smiles mischievously while telling of selecting the works for her Halloween Eve concert last year at Carnegie Hall. "I like picking a theme for the concert, so for Halloween I played 'A L'Aube du Dernier Jour,' which is about a man who's about to be hanged. It's got all these great sound effects, the ticking of the clock and the turning of the key and feet shuffling across the floor. And I played Koshkin's 'Usher Waltz,' which is based on the Edgar Allen Poe story ... it was a lot of fun."