Ryan Bergman Talks 'Ghosts' of Shared Small Towns and Upcoming Music
Interview ★ Nash Jones ★ @_nash_jones ★ 1.2k words
“And when the sea turns to blackness/ She floats upon the midnight streams/ Shines on the captives within us/ And foretells their futile dreams”.
This is the last verse of the first song Ryan Bergman released in 2023, titled “Futile Dreams.” A flowing fingerpicked acoustic guitar winded throughout, his vocals accompanied by this and nothing else other than the sounds of the outside, the song and album it began having been recorded live and outside.
From the first time I heard Bergman, his songwriting interested me, a topic we discuss at further length later on, but first, of course, we have to introduce the folk musician.
I speak with Bergman on phone call, asking him to introduce himself and give an overview of his music.
“Well I’m Ryan Bergman. I’m 22. I was born in Gulfport Mississippi and I went to Mississippi State for my undergrad, and now I’m at University of Alabama… for acting. I got my undergrad in communications with a concentration in theatre.”
He expands on his musical background. “Art is my life, I’m a performer. I love telling stories. I’m a singer/songwriter. I was a symphony cellist, but I went to college during Covid and there wasn’t a symphony during Covid so I picked up guitar. I fell in love with folk music, starting with Jim Croce, and then Paul Simon, Simon and Garfunkel, and Bob Dylan. Then I started writing music, and I’ve written two albums. The third album is actually coming out next month… The first two were singer/songwriter, just a guy with a guitar, but this next one is actually a studio album so it has more complicated arrangements.”
On that note, I mention his latest single, “Trest Wicks Wingfield,” a track with vocal harmonies, harmonica, and percussion in the form of tap-dancing, the title being the name of a fellow Mississippi State student and friend of Bergman’s. The lyrics refer to Wingfield occupying a ghost town, skateboarding around, performing on the stage of what can be assumed to be MSU’s theatre building to an empty audience that Bergman describes as “...Dozens of seats/ All attuned to the shift of his feet”.
Bergman earlier told me that he loves storytelling, a fact made clear through his lyricism. Naturally, I asked him about this. Bergman is a contemplative lyricist writing with a vividity that allows the listener to so clearly paint a picture in their mind, that displays he knows the idea he wanted to get across, yet doesn’t outright tell the listener what his metaphors mean.
“It changes over time but as far as my writing process right now, I’ll have an idea based on some inspiration… something that already exists and then I’ll maybe extend the line a bit or take it in a new direction. I wanted to make a song [Trest Wicks Wingfield] about someone discovering art in your small town, and what it meant and how it felt… and to put it from the perspective of someone discovering it. I guess that worked well… Then [I] go with the arrangement and melody separately from the words.”
Bergman and I briefly attended the same university, where I knew both him and Wingfield in passing. I ask more about the process for “Trest Wicks Wingfield” and how the song came to be.
“There’s a Decemberists’ song called William Fitzwilliam and it has a similar style… I just imagined Trest every time I heard that song… There are certain people that were in Starkville that I look up to– and the idea of them being represented as ghosts or past lives that still have influence in some way, the world around you, how quiet it may seem– I really wanted to write about that. There are people on my mind, including Taylor Barr [MSU alum, theatre director], but at the same time, I was leaving Starkville when I was thinking about this song. After having left too, [I was] putting myself in those shoes, and Trest was somebody I had taught [in theatre]. I thought it pretty natural to put it in the perspective of… someone else to show that I too have made an impact in Starkville beyond myself.”
Though neither of us live there anymore, I’ve lived in the northeast Mississippi college town of Starkville the majority of my life. I tell Bergman I was pretty bored of it until finding the art and music scene in my late teens. Expecting something had tired you out and you had experienced all there was to, until realizing there’s more to it. A niche community that took so long to find. Bergman expands on this, discussing doing lighting design for a theatre show in the nearby town of Columbus MS with friend and fellow MSU alum David.
“The theatre world is really small, and especially to have it exist within small towns is very impressive. The fact that the two of us were even there working on that thing– like there was no-one else in the area that would’ve unless they had to–. It was inspiring to see the impact that just a few people made through each generation.” He makes a mention of former theatres in Columbus that are now bars. “It’s crazy that that kind of thing even exists, that you can just be in that room and be like, ‘man, shows happened here’... and even if the people aren’t even there.” He says that experience was inspiration towards the end of his latest song, when Wingfield takes to the stage alone. “He was on the stage… and just that alone says a lot.” He mentions the tap-dancer, too, “... it features tap-dancing by Helen Anne Horecky [performer and MSU alum].”
I rewind from there and ask about his experience with the cello. Bergman tells me he played it since fourth grade and that the skills with string instruments helped him pick up guitar. “I’ve played guitar for four years now, but with my first album, I hadn’t been playing for two years at that point. Cello, I do think will be on the new album.”
“Can you expand any more on the new album? A title…?”
“It’ll come out on March 28th, and It’s called ‘The Theatre Life.’ Every song, for the most part, is a… different style. It talks a lot about what it means to pursue a career of escapism, of storytelling, trying to find truth in a world where you can identify… with any sort of truth, trying to find some sort of objective human experience… There’s some improvised songs on there too, from me or David.”
“I love the idea of making everything a different style. I think you mentioned that at the last Starkville show you played, that you were… challenging yourself by playing all these different styles of music, and you played a pop song.”
“I was, every song was like a ‘what if I pursued a different style in my career.” The aforementioned song is titled “On the Other Side,” and the set from Bergman’s farewell show can be found on streaming platforms.
Starkville has a wonderful DIY scene, with primarily hardcore and rock acts from the deep south, playing shows at the DIY venues. Bergman was an outlier among these acts.
“The kind of atmosphere you brought was very different… I think you really brought something there that was comforting to a lot of people.”
“That’s great to hear,” Bergman responds.
I ask if he has anything more to add, he doesn’t. We sit in silence for a moment, feeling the impact that’s been made on us in our experiences with the arts in a small town– how the work, the people, and the performances intrinsically change us all.
