A Century of Women’s Suffrage Flows Through Aoife O’Donovan’s ‘All My Friends’

Aoife O’Donovan maintains she’s not a political songwriter. Not intentionally, or outwardly, anyway. Sitting outside on her balcony in Central Florida, laughing about her coincidental fashion choice of a dad hat embroidered with the state’s outline, O’Donovan considers an artist’s public role in political matters. “I would say I’m very civically engaged, but … it’s something that I’ve always considered to be part of my private life, my personal life,” she says.

Her new record, All My Friends, is not necessarily overtly political, but it certainly deals in politics. Out this Friday via Yep Roc Records, the album serves as a tribute to the U.S. Constitution’s 19th Amendment, which a century ago outlawed voter discrimination based on gender, thereby granting women the right to vote. Throughout the nine-track LP, O’Donovan honors this history through excerpts of original texts, personal narratives, a choice cover of Bob Dylan’s “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll,” and more instrumentation than ever before.

“I took it as a challenge. As an artist, as a songwriter, I’m up for doing things outside of my comfort zone. It’s one of the things that I’ve been so lucky to do so much of in my career — not just do the same thing over and over again.”

Made Possible By …

All My Friends came together thanks to two major commissions — one from the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra (OPO) and another from the FreshGrass Foundation (No Depression’s nonprofit publisher). But even before diving into the details of the project, O’Donovan is quick to explain what such commissions actually are and how they impact working artists: “It’s an incredible thing for people to actually be aware of what a commission is and what artists are using these funds for when [applying] for grants,” she begins. “It’s so often just going back into the art itself.”

Of course, the patronage model has existed in the arts for as long as artists have been creating. Much is known about this process — of wealthy and/or powerful donors funding individual artists — from the medieval and Renaissance periods, but it hasn’t fully taken root in modern roots music.

O’Donovan believes that commissions today should, in particular, support art that impacts public consumption and perception, “to move people, to move the needle, to make people think,” she says. And a project like All My Friends certainly falls into that category.

The first commission that brought All My Friends to life came from the OPO, where O’Donovan’s husband, Eric Jacobsen, is music director. In 2020, before the pandemic hit, the orchestra asked her to write music for a performance commemorating the centennial of the 19th Amendment, which was ratified on Aug. 26, 1920.

“It was not that I was sitting there one day and was like, ‘You know, I really want to write a record about suffrage and about women’s rights,’” O’Donovan recalls with a laugh, even while wearing a Taylor Swift-style plastic-bead friendship bracelet that says “fuck the patriarchy.”

But the OPO gave her immense freedom to explore the topic without many musical restrictions or narrative guidelines, even while she was simultaneously writing her previous studio record, 2022’s Grammy-nominated Age of Apathy (ND review). The first draft of the five-song commission was just music — multi-tracked demos with vocals, guitar, piano, and ideas to send to the arranger, Tanner Porter.

After finishing Age of Apathy, O’Donovan was able to study the history of the amendment and the women who fought for its passing. “I might have done it differently had I been trying to write a record!” she exclaims. “Other people might spend a lot longer researching and go to the Library of Congress and go through all these documents.”

But a book called The Women’s Hour: The Great Fight to Win the Vote by Elaine Weiss introduced O’Donovan to historical figures like Carrie Chapman Catt, one of the leading activists for women’s suffrage in the early 20th century, both as a real person and a vivid character. “She was a total badass,” O’Donovan says, adding that there was a timeless feel to her speeches and letters.

The second commission came last year from the FreshGrass Foundation, enabling O’Donovan to write three more songs and record the entire project, which also features chamber orchestra The Knights, brass quartet The Westerlies, and the San Francisco Girls’ Chorus, whose members range between 12-18 years old. This commission also enabled her to perform some of the songs at the FreshGrass Festival | North Adams with guest vocalists from the Brooklyn Youth Chorus and brass accompaniment by The Westerlies, all of whom dressed in suffragist white in solidarity. With this funding and these opportunities, she recalls, “I was like, ‘Alright, this is a record.’ It just became much more fully realized.”

Taking Up the Fight

One of O’Donovan’s greatest strengths as a songwriter is her ability to make all kinds of topics personal and relatable. It’s particularly helpful here, as the subject matter might seem dry or inaccessible to listeners who aren’t history buffs.

Lyrically, she integrates some of Catt’s texts and phrases throughout All My Friends. “America, Come,” which begins with a thumping bass line, quickly swells with strings from The Knights and horns from The Westerlies, as O’Donovan uses a direct quote from Catt: “What is the democracy for which the world is battling / for which we offer up our man power, woman power, money power, our all?”

Elsewhere, she paraphrases and modernizes language in order to keep the stories fresh. In “War Measure,” a song sung from the perspective of suffrage supporter President Woodrow Wilson, O’Donovan coos: “Carrie, I got your missive and I’m with you, girl / I welcome the opportunity to say that I agree: / The time is nigh for your admission to the suffrage.”

Still, All My Friends is also a remarkably personal record, not just in O’Donovan’s presentation of the material, but also in its personnel. Songs like “Daughters,” in which the orchestra’s high and distant vibratos add an element of tension, have deeper resonance now that O’Donovan is a mother herself. “We can’t leave the fighting to the daughters of our daughters,” she sings, as much to women who serve as characters in the song as to her own 6-year-old.

Additionally, this record marks the first time that O’Donovan and Jacobsen worked closely together on a major project. The collaborations extend to chosen family, including Anaïs Mitchell, who sings on “Over the Finish Line”; Sierra Hull, who plays mandolin on “Crisis”; Noam Pikelny, who plays banjo on “Someone to Follow”; and Dawes’ Griffin Goldsmith, who drums on much of All My Friends.

O’Donovan will perform these songs — with their full arrangements — at select dates and venues throughout the year. Her goal is specifically to partner with local orchestras and youth choirs in order to continue sharing the messages and history of All My Friends.

She also hopes that a project like this will inspire listeners to think about ways they can get more involved in their own communities, to engage with the democratic process that the 19th amendment granted all Americans.

“It’s something that’s bigger than all of us,” she says. “Community is so important, and it’s really important to come outside of your home. Come away from your computer. Come away from your little feedback chamber that you’re in. Be a part of something. Be a part of your community and volunteer. Just get out there and get involved.”