Most of the coffeehouses of the Sixties are gone, but the tradition of the traveling troubadour lives on in the Lone Star state. During the last decade, an informal circuit of places to hear contemporary folk music has sprung up across Texas.

From metropolitan Houston to laid-back Mineola, these folk-music venues host intimate concerts in churches and other public halls (known as 'listening rooms') and even in private homes (where the shows are dubbed 'house concerts'). These noncommercial venues attract small, attentive audiences who congregate for one reason: to hear some of the nation's top songwriters sing their own songs. For music-lovers and musicians alike, you could call it a Songwriter's Paradise.

Up in booming Big D, a handful of volunteers gathers under the vaulted ceiling of Uncle Calvin's Coffeehouse, a listening room in Northpark Presbyterian Church. They set up folding chairs around tables topped with blue-checkered cloths, white flickering candles, and flowers in green Perrier bottles. Before show time, 150 or so people; mostly 40-something or older music fans, with a smattering of younger couples and kids filter in, get a cup of coffee or a soft drink, and find their seats.

Down in Austin, the scene's much the same, on a smaller scale, on the evening of a house concert at the home of Bruce and Liz Rouse. Helpers move furniture from the Rouses' living room, replacing it with 75 folding chairs arranged in neat rows. They leave one corner of the room open for the musician. In the kitchen, Liz puts the finishing touches on the evening's simple refreshments. At the front door, Bruce welcomes a steady stream of patrons-professional people, college students, aging hippies, and even a few seniors.

At both Uncle Calvin's and the Rouses' as well as at other listening rooms and house concerts statewide; loyal fans flock to hear singer-songwriters perform what's often called contemporary folk music. Once the music starts, smiles and applause flow as easily as do the songs; and the stories behind the songs.

In the tradition of folk music, a typical performance features a single artist playing guitar and singing. Instead of songs handed down for generations, however, these contemporary artists mostly perform self-written verses about people and places they've known and feelings they've experienced. Their musical styles frequently blend various influences, including traditional folk, rock, blues, and country. And, in standard folk fashion, the lyrics may be happy, sad, angry, or contemplative; but always sincere.

Though hardly household names, many of the performers who tour these cozy venues have penned other songs that big-name stars have taken to the airwaves. Such behind-the-scenes hitmakers include Jon Ims (who wrote 'She's in Love With the Boy.' a 1991 #1 smash recorded by Trisha Yearwood), Tom Kimmel (who wrote 'The Blue Train,' a top-10 ballad for Linda Ronstadt in 1995), and Steve Seskin (who penned 'Life's a Dance,' a 1993 chart-topper for John Michael Montgomery).

Renewed interest in singer-songwriters amounts to a growing, grassroots folk-music revival, says Arkansas-based singer-songwriter Crow Johnson. She's a veteran of Houston's 1960s folk scene, which helped introduce audiences to legends such as Guy Clark, Jerry Jeff Walker, and the late Townes Van Zandt. 'The early wave of clubs and coffeehouses laid the seeds for today's second wave, but this isn't a rehash of the Sixties,' says Crow.

'It's still the kind of music that makes you think,' she adds. The volunteers who run Texas' listening rooms and house concerts agree. It's the kind of music, they say, heard at the Kerrville Folk Festival, the state's 'mother ship' of singer-songwriter festivals. (For more on the annual Hill Country event, see Texas Highways, May 1996.)

'We've had an explosion of singer-songwriters in the last 10 years,' says festival director Rod Kennedy, who has hosted the fest since it began in 1972. 'They're producing music that meets the same human needs as do ballet, opera, jazz, and other great performing arts. These songs provide a wealth of emotional nutrition and help people recharge their batteries.'

In between festivals, however, Kerrville devotees found few opportunities to hear their favorite artists. Only a few radio stations played the music, and only a handful of clubs featured the singer-songwriters' live shows.

Beginning in the 1980s, a cadre of faithful Texas 'folkies' began spreading Kerrville fever around the state. Under the slogan 'Because music is too important to leave to professionals,' they gradually organized a loose-knit circuit of places for traveling troubadours to play. Today, more than 20 such homegrown venues regularly spotlight a variety of singer-songwriters, including many Kerrville regulars.

The listening room/house concert formula remains simple: Provide an intimate, smoke-free atmosphere that encourages friendly interaction between performer and audience.

A typical evening begins with 20 minutes of music by an opening artist. Then the main singer-songwriter plays two 45-minute sets, interrupted by a short break for refreshments and visits with the audience. To accommodate fans of all ages, concerts start and end early. (For die-hards, some house concerts stage after-show jam sessions, open to all comers, that last into the wee hours.)

Songwriters sing the praises of listening rooms and house concerts. 'Word gets out about these places,' says well-known songwriter Shake Russell of Houston. 'They help us put together several show dates in a row in the same area to cut down on travel time.'

'They also help us introduce our music to new audiences,' chimes in Shake's frequent singing partner, Dana Cooper, a noted Nashville songwriter. 'I think of today's folk style as 'acoustic eclectic,' because it's a mix of a lot of musical influences,' he says. 'So it's stuff many different kinds of people can get into.'

Most of the money from tickets or donations goes directly to the artists. Add in CD and tape sales, and the shows often prove more lucrative than commercial-club gigs. Many hosts of these shows even provide free room and board to further reduce on-the-road expenses.

These intimate venues can, however, test a musician's poise. 'It's so different from playing a noisy club where people are milling around,' explains bluesy Dallas folk artist Ann Armstrong. 'Here, all eyes and ears are on you. It can be intimidating, but it allows you to play more contemplative songs.'

Ray Wylie Hubbard, a 1996 inductee into the Kerrville Folk Festival's Hall of Fame, points out another advantage. 'People come to these places for the music, rather than to drink beer and meet somebody of the opposite sex.' Ray Wylie wrote the Seventies' country-rock anthem 'Up Against the Wall, Redneck Mother,' made famous by Jerry Jeff Walker. He still commands widespread loyalty for his newer, more-poetic songs about life and love. 'There's a thirst for music with integrity these days. It's very gratifying to play where people appreciate your craft and art.'

Perhaps the best-known of the folk venues dubbed 'listening rooms' sits beside busy North Central Freeway in Dallas' Northpark Presbyterian Church. Uncle Calvin's Coffeehouse got its start in the church's fellowship hall in 1982 as a friendly environment for people to enjoy music away from the bar scene. Founder Trey Hammond, a folk music-lover who was then associate pastor of the church, named it after John Calvin (1509-1564), the Protestant reformer, teacher, and humanist whose 'lighter side' the coffeehouse celebrates.

At first, Uncle Calvin's featured local talent. Now it attracts the top names in contemporary folk music. 'We get four times as many requests to perform here as there are available show dates. That's how popular it has become,' explains volunteer assistant manager Michael Terry. The hall hosts about 50 shows per year.

Some songs performed at Uncle Calvin's tell hilarious tales, such as Chicagoan Michael Smith's 'Dead Egyptian Blues': 'Your sarcophagus is glowing, but your esophagus is showing. Who cares how rich you are, love, when you look like Boris Karloff.'

Some songs, like 'Crayons,' by Austinite Betty Elders (who recently toured Europe with Joan Baez), carry more-serious social commentary: 'It's not the color of your skin, not who's out but who's within. And if my eyes no sight beheld, I'd know you very well.'

Other lyrics challenge the human spirit, as in Michael Lille's 'Ships' (co-written with Tom Kimmel): 'A calm is on the water and part of us would linger by the shore. Our ships are safe at harbor, but that's not what ships are for.'

'It's great to hear such a variety of songs with such meaning,' says Uncle Calvin's Michael Terry. 'The immediacy of the experience brings people together. It's like sitting down with friends and having a conversation.'

Sitting down with friends seemed just the ticket to folk musician John De Foore when he opened his listening room in Mineola in 1989. John opened the Piney Woods Pick'n Parlor in a small hall above a shoe repair shop in the East Texas railroad town. 'I decided if I could sell enough tickets, I could pay my songwriting friends to come play here,' recalls John, a professional musician since the Sixties. A steady stream of regular patrons, especially from the Dallas-Fort Worth area, now allows the Pick'n Parlor to host weekly shows in the large ballroom of Mineola's historic Beckham Hotel. The music here ranges from new folk and blues to Celtic, zydeco, and bluegrass.

In 1990, another veteran folk singer, Linda Lowe, began experimenting with a different musical format. After a decade of playing folk clubs across the country, Linda married and settled down to start a family in Houston. But she missed her songwriting friends. 'So I started inviting artists I knew to come play in my living room just for fun. Then I asked certain combinations of them to do some public concerts,' Linda says. 'It was a success right away. Bringing this caliber of people together-Steve Earle, Lucinda Williams, Ray Wylie Hubbard, and others; creates such energy and spontaneity.' Her 'Writers in the Round' concert series now stages half a dozen new-folk concerts a year at Houston's Main Street Theater or at the larger Hamman Hall at Rice University.

Personally and professionally, however, Linda still wasn't satisfied. 'With some of my women musician friends, I wanted more than just an evening of fun. I really wanted to go on the road,' she says. As a result, Linda started the 'Women in the Round on the Road' series, whose members play folk venues across Texas and neighboring states each summer. Linda's spirited touring companions include accomplished singer-songwriters Ann Armstrong, Darcie Deaville, Carolyn Hester, and Emily Kaitz, plus others added periodically.

Regardless of number of performers or size of venue, listening rooms try to present original music with a personal touch, explains Val Denn of Wimberley. Val is a performer and songwriter's agent, as well as manager of Susanna's Kitchen, a Hill Country listening room located in the Wimberley United Methodist Church. 'At Susanna's Kitchen [named for the mother of John Wesley, founder of Methodism], performers really let their hair down and develop a rapport with listeners,' she says. 'It's very natural, like someone coming and hanging out in your living room.'

Hanging out in living rooms is literally what happens at half a dozen or so house concerts on what might be called Texas' new-folk circuit.

For folk-music fans, the Rouse House Concert is a must-go venue. That's no surprise, considering its location; Austin, home of one of the nation's liveliest live-music scenes.

'Our reputation has grown,' admits Bruce Rouse, who, along with his wife, Liz, hosts a big-name singer-songwriter each month in the couple's cozy home. 'Performers can count on a good crowd and a good time. We have artists who can sell out a 2,000-seat hall ask to come play for us. It's such a special evening.'

For many Rouse House regulars, the evening evokes a nostalgic sense of deja vu. 'Many in the crowd went to folk coffeehouses when they were younger, before they had their families. Now that the kids have left home, they're returning to folk-type venues,' says Austinite Charly Mann. Claire and Tom Bray, also regulars here, maintain theyÕve never stopped listening to their old folk albums. 'But since we moved to Austin,' notes Tom, 'it's been refreshing to see that folk music is still living and growing with a whole new generation of writers.'

Bruce and Liz Rouse decided to open their home to concerts after attending a seminar on the subject during the 1991 Kerrville Folk Festival. By year's end, they had booked Nashville songwriter Jon Ims for their first concert. 'The Saturday before the concert, 'She's in Love With the Boy' by Trisha Yearwood was #1 on the nation's country charts, and 'Falling Out of Love' by Reba McEntire was #2,' Bruce recalls. 'Jon wrote both those songs, so he attracted 50 people to our very first show.'

The number of addresses on the Rouses' mailing list has grown from 12 to 200 (plus unlimited numbers via electronic mail), yet the couple still takes reservations for only 75 per show. They do so for pragmatic reasons (their living room holds only so many) and to preserve the intimate atmosphere.

'We do this strictly for the love of the music,' says Liz. 'So do our patrons. People trust us to bring in the best songwriters available, and they'll come even when they've never heard of the artist before.'

Fans also come to house concerts even when they're hard to find. That's what some Wylie folks found out when they fired up the Acoustic Concert Tours (ACT) series five years ago. Concerts take place in Tom Noe and Linda Silas' A-frame home, tucked away in the woods near Lake Lavon, just outside Dallas.

Tom's friend Paul Porter had spun records for a folk show on Dallas radio station KNON for several years. A couple of those years, Paul had booked singer-songwriters for nonprofit shows at various small halls and churches around the city. In 1992, he hooked up with Tom and Linda to establish a regular house concert in the country. 'House concerts had been popular on the West Coast and in the Midwest for years, but we didn't know if people would drive from Dallas to hear somebody play,' Paul recalls. Some 83 concerts later, he's convinced they will.

At a typical show, 30 to 40 people gather in Tom and Linda's living room on couches and brought-in chairs; all under the watchful eye of Luckenbach legend the late Hondo Crouch, whose picture dresses up the wall behind the performer. The audience hangs on every word of every song, and some hum or sing along. After the show, a handful of listeners; musicians in their own right; break out guitars and launch into an all-out jam session that may last until dawn.

'The atmosphere is so relaxed, and everyone is so friendly,' says ACT regular Larry Rouse (no relation to Bruce and Liz Rouse) of Plano. 'The whole experience of the music and the people cultivates the more human side of life.'

John and Sherry Arnold of San Antonio first learned about house concerts in 1988, while chatting with songwriters playing informally around Kerrville's late-night campfires. The Arnolds joined friends Sean and Jan McNulty to start a house concert, naming it Urban Campfires.

For several years, a handful of other San Antonio couples shared the responsibility of hosting the once-a-month shows in their living rooms. But with renewed interest in folk music burgeoning, Urban Campfires soon required a permanent home. This past November, the house concert evolved into a listening room, with San Antonio couple Steve Wood and Jayne Clark arranging shows at the Lion's Field Adult Center. Despite the larger space, they say, the intimate spirit of a house concert continues. 'We began with the idea of taking the feeling of a Kerrville campfire and carrying it into our lives the rest of the year,' says Glen Pilant, who, along with his wife, LaJeanna, hosted many Urban Campfires concerts in their home. 'We hope to always keep the campfire music burning.'

Legendary folk singer Tom Rush once wrote that in the early days of folk music, 'You couldn't make a living as a folk singer, and nobody tried'. As audiences came to recognize and appreciate individual artists, they lost interest in the 'hootenannies' and in folk music for its own sake. They wanted to hear name acts.' Today, followers of contemporary folk music, while interested in 'name acts,' also seem increasingly in tune with singer-songwriters, both renowned and undiscovered, who perform music that speaks to them.

Perhaps New England songwriter Bob Franke, a frequent performer on the Texas folk circuit, put it best in his song 'A Healing In This Night': 'There are words that change the way you look at things. There are sounds that silence idle talk. And there are songs that circle in your mind, and seek your heart, and find it, and seize it like a hawk.'