“In 2004 when she was played on ‘Spinning 

on Air,’ that was her first exposure to radio and I 

just still consider myself very lucky to have heard 

it, and I was very moved by it, and it just felt like 

very important music,” Dzula said. “I remember 

thinking at the time that, ‘Well this is such amaz-

ing music, any day now someone’s going to release 

the album,’ and that just didn’t happen.”

Four years after Dzula first heard Converse’s 

recordings, he “summoned the courage” to con-

tact Deitch with the proposal of releasing his 

recordings. Deitch directed Dzula to Converse’s 

brother, Phil Converse, a prominent professor of 

political science and sociology at the University 

of Michigan and the owner of Converse’s estate. 

With help from Deitch and Phil, Dzula compiled 

a series of recordings and founded Squirrel Thing 

Records for the purpose of releasing the album 

How Sad, How Lovely in 2009.

In the interview, he said her musical style is 

unlike what was coming out of New York during 

the time and that poignant original material, 

despite many folk singers covering older stan-

dards, helps her connect with a modern audience.

“I think it’s very easy for people to see them-

selves in her, in her story and in her music,” Dzula 

said. “I think that just has to do with the quality 

and depth of ideas that she puts forth as a song-

writer. If you think about the ’50s being sort of 

this glossy commercialized era, there’s something 

a bit darker, a bit more honest about her music and 

I think that’s interesting and I think that’s in some 

sense what people respond to.”

Dzula’s words resonate with me wholeheart-

edly. Beyond her guitar technique, which, as a 

guitarist, are enough to keep me enraptured, Con-

verse’s lyrics are poetry. Her songs grapple with 

universal concepts with poignant, succinct accu-

racy. The track “How Sad, How Lovely,” which 

begins with the line “How sad, how lovely / how 

short, how sweet / to see that sunset / at the end of 

the street,” casts me back to my childhood, learn-

ing the purpose of a wake at my first funeral — my 

grandfather’s. Though a somber occasion with 

tears flowing continuously, loved ones attempted 

to focus on the joy my grandpa brought into this 

world instead of dwelling on the sadness of his 

absence. Converse understood this outlook on 

life and summarized it perfectly. A sunset doesn’t 

last for long but it’s lovely while it’s around. While 

Dzula may not have the same specific memory 

association, I would be hard pressed to believe he 

doesn’t see truth in this line.

Despite this apparent connection to her modern 

fan base, one album of archival recordings does 

not appease a fan base hungry for more. However, 

this may soon change. Dzula is currently in talks 

with Converse’s estate to publish a 5 LP box set 

featuring recordings of Converse 

that have yet to see the light of 

day. If all goes according to Dzula’s 

plan, the LP set would include “her 

home recordings … other demos 

and oddities … Gene Deitch’s own 

recordings” and more.
F

ed up with no one want-

ing to publish her music, 

Converse arrived at the 

University of Michigan, found her 

brother and set out to make a name 

for herself in academia. Just as she 

had done in New York, Converse 

made her way into an exclusive 

echelon of people with very little 

prior knowledge or expertise. In 

New York, it was the beatniks and 

music scene. In Ann Arbor, she 

had to acclimate to an academic 

environment. In a typical Converse 

fashion, she exceeded anyone’s 

expectations of her.

During the late ’50s and early 

’60s, many women were rele-

gated to the role of secretary in 

male-dominated business environ-

ments. While Converse acquiesced 

to this job at first, her aspirations 

and talents quickly grew out of the 

position. With very little know-how in the field 

of political science — one of her brother’s areas of 

expertise — Converse became a writer and, even-

tually, the managing editor at the University of 

Michigan’s Journal of Conflict Resolution in 1963.

Five years after she became managing editor, 

she published a retrospective piece in the jour-

nal, analyzing the common themes of articles 

published during her tenure and positing her sug-

gestions for the future of the journal. In her intro-

duction, Converse’s eloquent and smart prose 

gives off the air of someone who has been steeped 

in political science for years.

“A member of the JCR editorial board recently 

suggested that the journal’s subtitle be changed 

from ‘a quarterly for research related to war and 

peace’ to ‘a quarterly for research related to revo-

lution and world development,’ ” Converse wrote. 

“The suggestion reflects a shift in salience, over 

the past decade, from the H-bomb to the war in 

Vietnam. My own proposal for a new subtitle at 

this point might be ‘a quarterly for research relat-

ed to the war of all against all and the truce of 

some with some.’ ”

However, her jobs on campus and her activism 

eventually wore Converse’s creative and men-

tal spirits down. She reportedly stopped writing 

music not long after she arrived in Ann Arbor. 

According to Howard Fishman’s New Yorker 

From Page 5B

Wednesday, January 23, 2019 // The Statement
6B

