Allegro

A tribute to Andy Polon

Volume 126, No. 7July, 2026

Andy Polon (1948-2024)


The following tribute to Andy Polon was written with substantial borrowing from a profile previously published on Andy’s archived website, written by Ed Lozano. 

Andrew (Andy) Polon, 76, a guitarist, singer and bassist, died on July 3, 2024.

Andy was born on Feb. 18, 1948 and grew up on the Upper West Side just as New York City’s folk music renaissance was taking off. In the 1960s, he and his friends would head down to Greenwich Village to listen to the latest singer-songwriters, and by the time Andy was a teenager, he was already in love with the guitar and studying with folksinger Dave Von Ronk. (Other important teachers in his life included Barry Kornfeld, Happy Traum and Barry Galbraith; he later studied classical guitar too.)

A special and formative place for Andy was Buck’s Rock summer camp in New Milford, Conn. Barry Kornfeld (and later Happy Traum) were the folk music counselors, and every summer they brought legendary guitarist Rev. Gary Davis to visit for a concert. Andy was especially captivated by Davis and the experience left a lasting impression on him.

Back in the city, Andy hung around with some of the best players of the day. Like many guitarists at that time, he made Sundays at Washington Square Park a must. Happy Traum was there with his brother Artie, and others who frequented that scene included Danny Kalb of the Blues Project, Stefan Grossman, Rick Schoenberg, David Laibman, David Grisman and Jodie Spector. A rare treat was an appearance by Lightnin’ Hopkins.

Andy was accepted into the University of Chicago, which also gave him the perfect opportunity to immerse himself in blues music. When he wasn’t studying or taking classes, he got the chance to sit in with Junior Wells, and he saw Magic Sam perform live. But his protests against the Vietnam War put him in conflict with university management and he was forced to leave.

Andy returned to NYC and earned a music degree from Hunter College. He began teaching at what later became known as the Fretted Instruments School of Folk Music, part of the Folklore Center. He also taught at Turtle Bay Music School, the Hebrew Arts School and the Guitar Workshop on Long Island. At night, he would sit in at the Gaslight Cafe alongside musicians like Phoebe Snow and Kris Kristofferson. There was also a vibrant guitar scene in Central Park that Andy was a part of.

By 1973, Andy was gigging enough that he joined Local 802. “He strongly believed in unions,” said his friend Yvonne Honigsberg.

In 1974, Andy became the accompanist for Raun MacKinnon Burnham, a singer/songwriter from Philadelphia, and also performed with Mary Travers (of Peter, Paul, & Mary fame). His career was taking off, and he found work everywhere, including wedding gigs with Lester Lanin and other club date bandleaders. He even shared his music at hospitals and nursing homes.

By the 1980s, Andy was releasing his own albums and had built up a thriving private lesson studio. He was known as an expert on fingerpicking and his students loved him. He also became an early adopter of digital music and wrote pieces for the new business of multimedia projects.

“Andy’s philosophy was that if you go into three areas that you like, then one is going to be active, the other slow, and the third somewhere in between. And among the three, there will always be a shift in activity that will enable you to keep your head above water,” wrote his friend Ed Lozano.

In 2003, at the age of 54, Andy’s entire life changed when he suffered a stroke and lost his ability to play guitar. Determined to keep music in his life, he first tried to keep on teaching. Although he could only use one hand, he still found that he could coach his students and demonstrate some degree of form.

He later found musical satisfaction when he joined a choir made up of other stroke survivors and their caregivers. (The choir is still active today and is called Singing Together Measure by Measure.) In 2015, Andy was featured in Allegro and talked about his condition: “Right after my stroke, it was too emotionally painful for me to see live guitar players, since I was too full of envy,” Andy said at the time. “My Mount Sinai Beth Israel stroke counselor Amy Walker told me about Dr. Joanne Loewy’s stroke choir, and that’s how I joined. Singing each week with fellow stroke survivors, medical staff and friends reminds me how very much alive I am.”

Today, Dr. Loewy still leads the stroke choir and remembers Andy fondly. “Andy Polon was a leader for us,” she told Allegro. “He came to each and every rehearsal. He was very musical and strove to make our choir more pleasing musically at each and every turn. Moreover, he was always kind and helpful to new members. He had a wonderful sense of humor. We miss him dearly.”

One of Andy’s friends, Rick Winston, said, “A favorite memory I have of Andy is watching him with fascination as he tried over and over to learn Dave Van Ronk’s finger-picking version of ‘St. Louis Tickle.’ He brought that same determination to living a full life after his devastating stroke. His program was to walk five miles a day, brace and all. I had trouble keeping up with him on one such walk. I’ll miss my witty, brilliant, irreverent friend.”

Another friend, Mark Schenker, remembers, “I met Andy at Buck’s Rock summer camp in 1963, and we were friends immediately. He was, simply, the best and most versatile guitarist I knew, and a splendid teacher. That first summer we studied under Barry Kornfeld; two summers later we were assistant counselors to Happy Traum. Our main job at camp, teaching guitar and banjo, was the best job I ever had. (I recently discovered a great tape of our 1965 jug band). He taught me Rev. Gary Davis tunes and later on, jazz, when he was studying with Barry Galbraith, and introduced me to music I would never have heard otherwise. He dragged me off to the Apollo to see Wilson Pickett and we met Jimi Hendrix while working together at a record store in Times Square. I’ll miss Andy’s sarcasm, his political values, and his musicianship. My biggest tribute to him is that I’m still playing at 77. Happy landings, Andy.”

Singer-songwriter John Gorka told Allegro, “Andy was a very talented guitar player! I’m glad that we got to play together and sorry that he is no longer with us.”

Lynn Ancona said, “I was a close friend of Andy for quite a few years. He was a fantastic guitar teacher and taught me so much. We also had other interests in common, like movies and going to see folksingers. We didn’t see as much of each other once my husband and I moved out to New Jersey, but we still remained in contact. I was very sorry to hear when he had passed away. The world has lost a very talented and knowledgeable person.”

Chris Miele told us, “Every time I think of Andy Polon, a smile appears. He was a quirky, talented, generous teacher who, in the early 1970’s, gave me a solid foundation in fingerstyle guitar.  None of his students will ever forget the five-flight walkup we had to navigate for lessons or the stories about Dave Van Ronk, his guitar teacher. We learned via cassette tape and handwritten tablature and I still have those tabs and tapes. We stayed in touch throughout the years and he shared his challenges and acceptance of them. Rest in peace, Andy. You gave us all a great gift: the love of the acoustic guitar.”

Andy’s friend Yvonne Honigsberg (pictured above) remembers beautiful stories of her time with Andy: “I met Andy at a stroke support group at NYU,” she told Allegro. “When he was in a good mood, he was great. Back in the day, he loved swing dancing and made a lot of his friends dance with him! He was also very funny – one of his friends called him a comic genius. He was very entertaining and he was a talker. He still wanted to participate in the world with verve. He liked to sing, which he could still do even after his stroke. He could be so kind and compassionate. One time on a bus, he sat next to a somewhat boisterous alcoholic in tattered clothing, apparently drunk and perhaps homeless. Most people would ignore him, but Andy asked him how he was doing and got into an animated conversation the whole ride home.”

Yvonne adds, “Another time we traveled to Seville, Spain. We were so looking forward to seeing live flamenco. In the airport, I was in a wheelchair because of my own limp. Andy could only use one hand due to his stroke, and he held a cane with that hand because of his own stroke-induced limp. He refused a wheelchair because of his pride. He was walking me as I was in a wheelchair. He was so stubborn! He wanted to do it his way – and he did. He was particular about how he packed for the trip: every traveling possession had to go in a backpack, and that was that.  When we got to Seville, we went into a guitar shop. It was the first time I had seen him holding a guitar. He seemed so at home with a guitar, as if he were hugging an old, dear, long-lost friend. He broke into a warm, crinkly smile. He couldn’t play fully, of course, but he could strum with one hand. It was sweet and heartbreaking. The next day, I was going to buy tickets to a flamenco show, but at the last minute he said, ‘I can’t do it, I can’t go. It would break me up,’ as he choked back tears.”

One final story from Yvonne: “Andy was always a professional musician.  But in his 40’s, he also worked for the Coalition for the Homeless in their I.T. department, believing that everyone deserved dignity and respect. He put his money where his mouth was.”

Andy had a distinguished family background. His grandfather Dr. Albert Polon Sr. studied with Freud and was a pioneering psychoanalyst. He died in 1926 at the age of 45. His father Albert Polon Jr. also died young, at 55, in 1972. Andy’s mother Marjorie, who died in 1997, was a travel agent and artist. Andy is survived by his sister Marian, brother-in-law Bill, nieces Kate and Sara, and cousins Craig, Marsha and Jair.

Allegro is the official publication of the NYC musicians’ union Local 802. Reach us at Allegro@Local802afm.org.

Andy at a camp reunion with friends Wendy Parmet and Todd Capp

FAMILY PHOTO: Andy, his sister Marian and his mother Marjorie (source: Andy’s archived website)