We said goodbye to an old friend today.
Helen was there when we first started working out what we wanted Súnas to be, all those years ago on Mannie's verandah, and though she moved down to Tasmania, she never left the band. For a few years now she'd been bravely battling cancer, and last Wednesday, surrounded by family and friends, she let go.
There's almost too much to single out just a few things about Helen that made her special; her incredible (naughty) humour, compassion, crap suggestions for cover songs (sorry Helen, but 'Ob-la-di' will never make it to a set list), but most of all, it was that she was fearless. She did things that the rest of us only talked about. From selling everything and buying a B&B in Tasmania, to travelling across the world in her last months to see a festival she'd been dreaming about for 5 years. She followed her dreams, not matter where they led and her boundless optimism was a lesson to us all.
We miss you Helen. You never did anything simply, never took the easy path, but you always wanted to carry everyone along with you for the fun.
We miss you.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
A Wee Update
So it looks like we've not updated this news page for a long time, but the blogs from the past couple of months are over at the Tour Blog page. Just thought I'd clear that up for those of you that have been sending polite emails asking!
There are two more tour blogs yet to go up. They're sitting on my laptop waiting to be tidied up and uploaded, something that sounds incredibly simple and quick, and indeed is, it's just since we got back we quite literally haven't stopped. We actually got our first gig call not 2 hours after landing in Brisbane!
We've mentioned this to those of you that have come to the last few gigs, but we're scaling back a bit next year. We've decided only to go to a few festivals and focus mainly on the new album (plans for which are proceeding quite nicely!) and getting a whole load of new material. Because we seem to have spent most of the last 18 months on planes, we've really only brought out a couple of new tunes and songs, and we're beginning to get a little stir-crazy. We've got a whole lot of stuff just waiting to go, but like most things, it's a matter of finding (or making) the time to get together and learn it. Saying that though, in true Súnas style we have a couple of very interesting surprises in store for next year...
Anyway, have Happy Holidays one and all, and hopefully we'll see you in January!
(Oh, just to clear up so as not to be accused of big noting or the like, Bridget, Sarah and Paul will be at Woodford this year, but not as Súnas. After a few massive Woodford Festivals for us, we're on our 'gap year'. Bridget is involved in the Fiddle Club, and Paul and Sarah will be sessioning and generally bumming their way onto anyone who'll have them's stage). But who knows...
There are two more tour blogs yet to go up. They're sitting on my laptop waiting to be tidied up and uploaded, something that sounds incredibly simple and quick, and indeed is, it's just since we got back we quite literally haven't stopped. We actually got our first gig call not 2 hours after landing in Brisbane!
We've mentioned this to those of you that have come to the last few gigs, but we're scaling back a bit next year. We've decided only to go to a few festivals and focus mainly on the new album (plans for which are proceeding quite nicely!) and getting a whole load of new material. Because we seem to have spent most of the last 18 months on planes, we've really only brought out a couple of new tunes and songs, and we're beginning to get a little stir-crazy. We've got a whole lot of stuff just waiting to go, but like most things, it's a matter of finding (or making) the time to get together and learn it. Saying that though, in true Súnas style we have a couple of very interesting surprises in store for next year...
Anyway, have Happy Holidays one and all, and hopefully we'll see you in January!
(Oh, just to clear up so as not to be accused of big noting or the like, Bridget, Sarah and Paul will be at Woodford this year, but not as Súnas. After a few massive Woodford Festivals for us, we're on our 'gap year'. Bridget is involved in the Fiddle Club, and Paul and Sarah will be sessioning and generally bumming their way onto anyone who'll have them's stage). But who knows...
Monday, August 3, 2009
Whiskey Gully Adventures
5:25pm, Somewhere near Aratula, Qld
So right now, we’re bombing it to Cunninghams Gap on our way to Severnlea which is down on the granite belt near Stanthorpe. Actually, bombing it is rather an optimistic term to use as we’re in Mannie’s van. Chugging it would be more appropriate. A good-paced chug. Despite the rush (it’s a good three hour run from Brisbane), the idiot drivers and utterly disgusting Brisbane traffic towards Ipswich, it’s actually a very cool and chilled out place to be. The iPod is on a random shuffle of a genre it loosely calls ‘Americana’ (Ry Cooder at the moment, though we’ve just had some Matthew Ryan, King Curly and a touch of Sinead -not all Americana, I know, but the Genius list isn’t without its own quirks). The Great Dividing Range is laid out before us, just a magenta silhouette against a burnt tobacco sunset. The sun is going down smoking.
The downs between Ipswich and Cunninghams Gap are usually brown, sunburned to within an inch of dust, but not this evening. There’s been so much rain that we’re literally passing incredible, though temporary, lakes dotted with waterbirds and happy cattle. My fingers are tingling, which they always do on the day of a gig, but I’ve got no idea quite what to expect. We’re playing tonight at the superbly named Whiskey Gully Winery, a ticketed event where we get to play our favourite material in front of people who actually want to be there, as opposed to those that just happen to be. It’s a nice change. I’m a terrible one for trying to predict things. I guess it comes from being a writer; my head never really shuts down. But tonight I’m not. Tonight I shall be a guitary leaf on the wind of the band. And after the roadhouse food we just scarfed, it’s going to be a blustery night….
The Whiskey Gully Homestead
1:29am, Diamondvale (The Big House)
The gig was in an old homestead, all high ceilings, antique furniture and verandahs. We were set up in a little corner of the main room, close to the huge fireplace big enough to roast Mannie in, backed by a wall polkaed with beautiful guitars. I’m resisting the temptation to describe them, but let’s just say there were some gems there. So, two small, cosy sets to a wonderfully attentive, well fed and wined audience that sang in all the right spots, laughed at Sarah’s naff jokes and got on the take-the-piss-out-of-Mannie bandwagon nicely. There was some great support from Terry and Bob, and a handful of numbers from John the owner that mixed up the night wonderfully. It was a lot of fun. We were all very relaxed and firing quite nicely. The kind of gig we love. Outside, loading the instruments it was -2c, and Mannie was almost sobbing, despite being wrapped up in his polar Scott of the Antarctic coat, genuine Sherpa ascent boots, World War Two bomber pilot sheepskin mittens and a rather fetching pair of arseless llama-pelt chaps.
John with Sarah and Bridge (and lots of tasty guitars)
Then it was back to Diamondvale, Dave & Trish’s incredible house for more drams and a wee sleep (with Mannie being acoustically isolated in the guest house of course). Wickedly comfortable beds with nice electric blankets.
Diamondvale.
2:12pm Somewhere north of Aratula
Back on the road again. After nomming a huge traditional musician breakfast of sausages, eggs, bacon toast and Coke, we’re once again on the chug. We have a few hours to get back to Brisbane to load the van before we head off down the coast for tonight’s gig at Harrigans. The iPod is still playing silly buggers, as we’re alternating between Neil Young, Dougie MacLean, the Police, Mark Knopfler, Pavarotti and Roxette. Funny, as I have no memory of ever putting Roxette on my iPod…
So right now, we’re bombing it to Cunninghams Gap on our way to Severnlea which is down on the granite belt near Stanthorpe. Actually, bombing it is rather an optimistic term to use as we’re in Mannie’s van. Chugging it would be more appropriate. A good-paced chug. Despite the rush (it’s a good three hour run from Brisbane), the idiot drivers and utterly disgusting Brisbane traffic towards Ipswich, it’s actually a very cool and chilled out place to be. The iPod is on a random shuffle of a genre it loosely calls ‘Americana’ (Ry Cooder at the moment, though we’ve just had some Matthew Ryan, King Curly and a touch of Sinead -not all Americana, I know, but the Genius list isn’t without its own quirks). The Great Dividing Range is laid out before us, just a magenta silhouette against a burnt tobacco sunset. The sun is going down smoking.
The downs between Ipswich and Cunninghams Gap are usually brown, sunburned to within an inch of dust, but not this evening. There’s been so much rain that we’re literally passing incredible, though temporary, lakes dotted with waterbirds and happy cattle. My fingers are tingling, which they always do on the day of a gig, but I’ve got no idea quite what to expect. We’re playing tonight at the superbly named Whiskey Gully Winery, a ticketed event where we get to play our favourite material in front of people who actually want to be there, as opposed to those that just happen to be. It’s a nice change. I’m a terrible one for trying to predict things. I guess it comes from being a writer; my head never really shuts down. But tonight I’m not. Tonight I shall be a guitary leaf on the wind of the band. And after the roadhouse food we just scarfed, it’s going to be a blustery night….
The Whiskey Gully Homestead
1:29am, Diamondvale (The Big House)
The gig was in an old homestead, all high ceilings, antique furniture and verandahs. We were set up in a little corner of the main room, close to the huge fireplace big enough to roast Mannie in, backed by a wall polkaed with beautiful guitars. I’m resisting the temptation to describe them, but let’s just say there were some gems there. So, two small, cosy sets to a wonderfully attentive, well fed and wined audience that sang in all the right spots, laughed at Sarah’s naff jokes and got on the take-the-piss-out-of-Mannie bandwagon nicely. There was some great support from Terry and Bob, and a handful of numbers from John the owner that mixed up the night wonderfully. It was a lot of fun. We were all very relaxed and firing quite nicely. The kind of gig we love. Outside, loading the instruments it was -2c, and Mannie was almost sobbing, despite being wrapped up in his polar Scott of the Antarctic coat, genuine Sherpa ascent boots, World War Two bomber pilot sheepskin mittens and a rather fetching pair of arseless llama-pelt chaps.
John with Sarah and Bridge (and lots of tasty guitars)
Then it was back to Diamondvale, Dave & Trish’s incredible house for more drams and a wee sleep (with Mannie being acoustically isolated in the guest house of course). Wickedly comfortable beds with nice electric blankets.
Diamondvale.
2:12pm Somewhere north of Aratula
Back on the road again. After nomming a huge traditional musician breakfast of sausages, eggs, bacon toast and Coke, we’re once again on the chug. We have a few hours to get back to Brisbane to load the van before we head off down the coast for tonight’s gig at Harrigans. The iPod is still playing silly buggers, as we’re alternating between Neil Young, Dougie MacLean, the Police, Mark Knopfler, Pavarotti and Roxette. Funny, as I have no memory of ever putting Roxette on my iPod…
Friday, July 3, 2009
Sunas in the Snow
The Snowy Mountains of Music Festival. Just sounds exciting doesn’t it? And we certainly were excited to be involved in Dave De Santi’s new vision, the first ever festival to be held in the Snowy Mountains, on the opening weekend of ski season.
So once again we found ourselves at the airport, although at a new and strange time... no 5am flight! Woohoo! We flew in to Canberra (at night!) and were greeted by Sarah’s fantastic Grandad, and were instantly welcomed with some chicken soup (A Dorothy special made just for Mannie) and apple pie. What a welcome! Unfortunately it was a very quick stopover, as we had to be back at the airport the next day to await our bus to the snow.
We were surprisingly organised and arrived with plenty of time to spare (no comments please) so of course the bus was two hours late. After many coffees, and a great catch up with our good mate Enda Kenny (the people you find wandering around Canberra airport), we squashed onto the double-decker bus and were on our way. There was a brief lunch stop –and might I say the best impromptu deli picnic with Lindsay Martin and Enda, red wine, prosciutto, vintage Cheddar and all – then off we went. You could feel it getting colder as we got closer, and although we were separated on the bus, we were all nervously watching the time, as we were due on stage at 5pm and still seemed to be a long way off. We phoned ahead to say we were running a little late, to which Dave said ‘no problem’ and said we could just go on when we got there. A big thanks to Bruce Mathiske who took our place on stage and performed superbly as usual! We ran on stage at the Smiggins Hotel (to Sair and my horror with no make-up and wearing jeans!) but had a blast and a great start to the festival.
Rockstars that we are, we had a quick dinner and found our accommodation, ready to snuggle in to our warm beds for an early night (of course after Mannie dragged his mattress into a snore-proof chamber). We woke up early the next morning, a little disappointed to find that there was still no snow, and headed off to Perisher in search of breakfast, coffee and our first gig at the festival opening. We were greeted by Dave himself, arms full with a very welcome sight... a tray of butterscotch schnapps :) Yum! From this point on, we were hooked! The opening concert was great, very laid back and a glimpse at some of the entertainment still to come. We ducked off for a quick grocery shop and then straight off to our next gig at Basil's Bar. We had a schnapps-sponsored gig and had a great time! Sair and I were surprised to catch up with an old friend, Liam Dorney, who we had both met during our pre-folk years at the Brisbane Regional Youth Orchestra (apparently we were there at the same time and had no idea!). Liam was now playing with the uber-cool Gold Coast band, A French Butler Called Smith, who we caught up with numerous times through the rest of the festival.
That night (still with no snow –but a definite drop in the temperature) we ventured up to watch our good friends Humbug, who were sounding as good as ever. We had a great singalong and very brief catch up before heading back to our Smiggins Chalet for a gourmet delight ala Paul. I love travelling with someone who can cook! We give him a sweet potato and some chicken and he whipped up beautiful curry (accompanied of course by the requisite $13 bottle of butterscotch schnapps). Thanks Paul!
Ok... now for the good stuff... SNOW!
Mannie came running in to our room pointing at the window (at arse-O'clock I might add). What an amazing sight! It had just started snowing lightly. I sat, glued to the window for about an hour (having never seen it snow before) and then decided we couldn’t possibly sit inside while this was happening outside. We got ready as quickly as possible, and then the others proceeded to watch me run around and take photos with a giant smile on my face. Sairey was just as excited and was willing to pose in a million photos with me (the boys having grown up in snowy weather were slightly less impressed with being asked to wait for photos every 3 steps). The rest of the festival was a bit of a blur. We had some more great gigs, more snow photos, more schnapps, catch ups and pics with the amazing Davidson Brothers, more schnapps, battling snow-covered roads with our fearless transporter Barney, watched a beautiful concert with Enda and Lindsay... and of course more photos and schnapps.
I will take a moment to describe one of the funniest parts of a festival in the snow. Our beloved Mannie. He alternated between grumbling, shivering and complaining (quite a sight with his beanie pulled down low and his giant army coat – thanks Bernie)... and then pretending to ski (highly entertaining and surprisingly he didn’t fall once!) and making snow angels. And of course the boys had an ongoing snow-ball fight every moment we were outside.
This was a truly amazing festival and one I will never forget! Despite the bus having some dramas on the trip back, we were still buzzing when we made it back to Sarah’s Grandparents' place for a couple of hours sleep and then you guessed it... back at the airport at 4.30am.
So once again we found ourselves at the airport, although at a new and strange time... no 5am flight! Woohoo! We flew in to Canberra (at night!) and were greeted by Sarah’s fantastic Grandad, and were instantly welcomed with some chicken soup (A Dorothy special made just for Mannie) and apple pie. What a welcome! Unfortunately it was a very quick stopover, as we had to be back at the airport the next day to await our bus to the snow.
We were surprisingly organised and arrived with plenty of time to spare (no comments please) so of course the bus was two hours late. After many coffees, and a great catch up with our good mate Enda Kenny (the people you find wandering around Canberra airport), we squashed onto the double-decker bus and were on our way. There was a brief lunch stop –and might I say the best impromptu deli picnic with Lindsay Martin and Enda, red wine, prosciutto, vintage Cheddar and all – then off we went. You could feel it getting colder as we got closer, and although we were separated on the bus, we were all nervously watching the time, as we were due on stage at 5pm and still seemed to be a long way off. We phoned ahead to say we were running a little late, to which Dave said ‘no problem’ and said we could just go on when we got there. A big thanks to Bruce Mathiske who took our place on stage and performed superbly as usual! We ran on stage at the Smiggins Hotel (to Sair and my horror with no make-up and wearing jeans!) but had a blast and a great start to the festival.
Rockstars that we are, we had a quick dinner and found our accommodation, ready to snuggle in to our warm beds for an early night (of course after Mannie dragged his mattress into a snore-proof chamber). We woke up early the next morning, a little disappointed to find that there was still no snow, and headed off to Perisher in search of breakfast, coffee and our first gig at the festival opening. We were greeted by Dave himself, arms full with a very welcome sight... a tray of butterscotch schnapps :) Yum! From this point on, we were hooked! The opening concert was great, very laid back and a glimpse at some of the entertainment still to come. We ducked off for a quick grocery shop and then straight off to our next gig at Basil's Bar. We had a schnapps-sponsored gig and had a great time! Sair and I were surprised to catch up with an old friend, Liam Dorney, who we had both met during our pre-folk years at the Brisbane Regional Youth Orchestra (apparently we were there at the same time and had no idea!). Liam was now playing with the uber-cool Gold Coast band, A French Butler Called Smith, who we caught up with numerous times through the rest of the festival.
That night (still with no snow –but a definite drop in the temperature) we ventured up to watch our good friends Humbug, who were sounding as good as ever. We had a great singalong and very brief catch up before heading back to our Smiggins Chalet for a gourmet delight ala Paul. I love travelling with someone who can cook! We give him a sweet potato and some chicken and he whipped up beautiful curry (accompanied of course by the requisite $13 bottle of butterscotch schnapps). Thanks Paul!
Ok... now for the good stuff... SNOW!
Mannie came running in to our room pointing at the window (at arse-O'clock I might add). What an amazing sight! It had just started snowing lightly. I sat, glued to the window for about an hour (having never seen it snow before) and then decided we couldn’t possibly sit inside while this was happening outside. We got ready as quickly as possible, and then the others proceeded to watch me run around and take photos with a giant smile on my face. Sairey was just as excited and was willing to pose in a million photos with me (the boys having grown up in snowy weather were slightly less impressed with being asked to wait for photos every 3 steps). The rest of the festival was a bit of a blur. We had some more great gigs, more snow photos, more schnapps, catch ups and pics with the amazing Davidson Brothers, more schnapps, battling snow-covered roads with our fearless transporter Barney, watched a beautiful concert with Enda and Lindsay... and of course more photos and schnapps.
I will take a moment to describe one of the funniest parts of a festival in the snow. Our beloved Mannie. He alternated between grumbling, shivering and complaining (quite a sight with his beanie pulled down low and his giant army coat – thanks Bernie)... and then pretending to ski (highly entertaining and surprisingly he didn’t fall once!) and making snow angels. And of course the boys had an ongoing snow-ball fight every moment we were outside.
This was a truly amazing festival and one I will never forget! Despite the bus having some dramas on the trip back, we were still buzzing when we made it back to Sarah’s Grandparents' place for a couple of hours sleep and then you guessed it... back at the airport at 4.30am.
Wintermoon 2009 (Part 2)
What is there to say about Wintermoon?
Could it be the lush tropical rainforest location and the deliciously relaxed surrounding areas?
Or maybe the gorgeous green eco-vibe that permeates every building, tent, stage and communal gathering area, from candles in the restrooms at night to Jenny Drake’s untamed chickens casually wandering the grounds to the organic freshly picked bananas in the Chai House every morning.
Or the talented, humble and inspiring musicians we met along the way and were so fortunate to share the stage with; people who, fuelled by cider, beer or nothing at all would happily natter about anything and everything while relaxing between gigs in the communal area behind the Lunar Stage. The entire weekend was peppered with conversations, jamming, rehearsals, and writing. Wintermoon is the first festival I have performed at where I have come away more relaxed than when I got there.
And what of the incredible people who organise this amazing festival and go out of their way to make you feel at home? So many were offered use of Jenny’s shower & use of her car to travel into Calen to buy supplies; sharing tables during meal times with beautiful people along the likes of Chris Cann, Ira from the Perch Creek Family JugBand & Campbell the gentle Swaggie; the amazing sound crew smiling through intense pressure to deliver the best sound for their tent with only ten minutes notice, while happy volunteers greeted me with a smile everywhere we met and then paid us the biggest compliment by dancing at our shows – this festival wouldn’t happen without all of you.
But mostly, to the festival attendees who allow us the opportunity to perform and share our passions with you. There are no words except thank you for your support!
Highlights for me, other than the ones described above and in no particular order were pulling Paul’s former bandmate and stunning singer Nadia Sunde up on stage to sing Dreams with us, catching every Barleyshakes gig (they ROCK), meeting Richard Kaal, the awesome guys from Swoon & Wishing Well, Bridge & I sharing songwriting tips with Enda Kenny, meeting S. Sean Tretheway and reading his wonderful book ‘The Roadless Traveller’, and relaxing in general – what a luxury!
The last Wintermoon concert featured JigZag, and in true folkie style, they pulled every available player (Bridge & I, Lindsay Martin, Erin from Barleyshakes, Richard Kaal, Sarah from Wishing Well, Campbell the Swaggie, Dave Flower, Jay Bishoff and Sally from Dev’lish Mary to name a few!) up to play some solos on a few songs. I shared a mic with Lindsay Martin, and it was brilliant! After we all performed on Stronger the Tree and One Love, the crowd decided we weren’t getting off that easy and demanded one last song for the finale. And what a song! We did crowd favourite ’30 Seconds of Happiness’, which featured scat singing, Aretha Franklin, fiddle solos and the best crowd participation I have ever witnessed.
What a remarkable ending to a wonderful weekend!
Listening to ‘Kindred’ by Swoon
Could it be the lush tropical rainforest location and the deliciously relaxed surrounding areas?
Or maybe the gorgeous green eco-vibe that permeates every building, tent, stage and communal gathering area, from candles in the restrooms at night to Jenny Drake’s untamed chickens casually wandering the grounds to the organic freshly picked bananas in the Chai House every morning.
Or the talented, humble and inspiring musicians we met along the way and were so fortunate to share the stage with; people who, fuelled by cider, beer or nothing at all would happily natter about anything and everything while relaxing between gigs in the communal area behind the Lunar Stage. The entire weekend was peppered with conversations, jamming, rehearsals, and writing. Wintermoon is the first festival I have performed at where I have come away more relaxed than when I got there.
And what of the incredible people who organise this amazing festival and go out of their way to make you feel at home? So many were offered use of Jenny’s shower & use of her car to travel into Calen to buy supplies; sharing tables during meal times with beautiful people along the likes of Chris Cann, Ira from the Perch Creek Family JugBand & Campbell the gentle Swaggie; the amazing sound crew smiling through intense pressure to deliver the best sound for their tent with only ten minutes notice, while happy volunteers greeted me with a smile everywhere we met and then paid us the biggest compliment by dancing at our shows – this festival wouldn’t happen without all of you.
But mostly, to the festival attendees who allow us the opportunity to perform and share our passions with you. There are no words except thank you for your support!
Highlights for me, other than the ones described above and in no particular order were pulling Paul’s former bandmate and stunning singer Nadia Sunde up on stage to sing Dreams with us, catching every Barleyshakes gig (they ROCK), meeting Richard Kaal, the awesome guys from Swoon & Wishing Well, Bridge & I sharing songwriting tips with Enda Kenny, meeting S. Sean Tretheway and reading his wonderful book ‘The Roadless Traveller’, and relaxing in general – what a luxury!
The last Wintermoon concert featured JigZag, and in true folkie style, they pulled every available player (Bridge & I, Lindsay Martin, Erin from Barleyshakes, Richard Kaal, Sarah from Wishing Well, Campbell the Swaggie, Dave Flower, Jay Bishoff and Sally from Dev’lish Mary to name a few!) up to play some solos on a few songs. I shared a mic with Lindsay Martin, and it was brilliant! After we all performed on Stronger the Tree and One Love, the crowd decided we weren’t getting off that easy and demanded one last song for the finale. And what a song! We did crowd favourite ’30 Seconds of Happiness’, which featured scat singing, Aretha Franklin, fiddle solos and the best crowd participation I have ever witnessed.
What a remarkable ending to a wonderful weekend!
Listening to ‘Kindred’ by Swoon
Friday, June 12, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Wintermoon 2009
Wintermoon is one of those festivals that we’ve heard so much about but never actually been able to get to. It’s a smallish festival about an hour or so into the mountains near Mackay in Queensland, and despite the name, it’s pretty warm...
We had a nightflight up to Mackay, which meant one of those wonderful take-offs over Brisbane, then a quite mysterious bus ride out into the tropics courtesy of the magnificent Jim (who waited very patiently at the airport as we were quite delayed). We also got to meet the very cool and suave Ira from the Perch Creek Family JugBand
Have you ever seen Brisbane from a 737 at night? (sorry Mr Kelly)
So now I’m sitting here, on an old couch backstage, on the verandah of the chai house listening to the wonderful sounds of Dev’lish Mary. The acoustics are just incredible. If we were to ever record a live album I'd want the mics placed right here. Every nuance, strum, breath, I can hear it all.
The Chai House. Inside it's like an old, wonderful barn
Alas I have a bit of a whiskey head on me at the moment, the result of a rather late and most excellent evening of tunes, laugher, candlelight and half a bottle of Glen Morangie. Our performances are over, except for tonight’s finale where we’ll get up with everyone for one last hooley. It has been just a lovely experience. I wrote last time about my perceived differences in festivals, and rather than go over old ground, I’ll just say that Wintermoon has to be one of the nicest I’ve been to. Maybe it’s the tropical environment, but everything here runs at a lightly slower clock. We’ve actually had a lot of time to sit, talk and play with people (and work on some material for our new album and some special stuff for the joint gig with Jigzag in a couple of weeks). It’s a very recharging experience, and after the hectic start to the year, it’s almost been like a beautiful little time-out.
The wash basin, complete with one of Jenny's Chickens (and yes we couldn't resist playing the tune!)
Except for the shows. They’re a mass of dancing, heaving bodies (often led by the ever-enthusiastic Alan Kelly from the great Barleyshakes). Saturday night’s show on the main stage was really grand, as what I thought was a low rumble through one of the mics actually turned out to be rain on the tarpaulins, not that that stopped anyone, in fact, it was almost as if a lot of folks had been waiting for just that moment to step out and dance dark in the rain.
One aspect of this festival that I really loved was that they fed us. Not because I'm a guts, but more because for three times a day, most of the musos and performers were brought together around the chai house. This was conducive to some very interesting conversations and no small number of impromptu jams over the truly wonderful food. It's something only a smaller festival could do (can you imagine the logistics behind say, Woodford, feeding 1500+ performers?), but it really made a difference to us.
The Amazing S. Sëan Tretheway holding court with his magic
Some other highlights:
Sarah being slightly tipsy and shining the torch into the sky and yelling, ‘Look at the size of that spider web!’ only for us to point out it was a powerline.
Having a wonderfully ambient pee in a spooky, candle-lit toilet then turning it into a drunken Phantom of the Opera reenactment (probably the sort of thing you had to be there for).
Chatting to Campbell the Swaggy (who actually lives here!). What an incredibly interesting and erudite man. He was nearly always asleep upright in a chair by the open fire in the Chai House, empty tea mug in his hand when I crept in for my very early morning coffee.
Sarah and Campbell
Having our dear friend Nadia Sunde singing with us on ‘Dreams’, then leading the early morning crowd on a few choruses.
Having the amazing Nahm paint a mural of our album art over alongside the other artists that have passed through.
Chatting to all the wonderful people who queued to buy a cd, then waited in the sun while we ran around looking for a signing pen.
Meeting too many new friends to mention here. Festivals have turned into these wonderful reunions for us now, and it's wonderful to be part of the family.
The final evening here was something very special, and I think I'll let Sarah write about that (I'm adding this little extra bit back home in Brisbane -I'm not psychic!). But here's a small taster of the final concert
Sarah and Bridget join in the brilliant finale
So, next stop, the Irish Club, then it’s the Jigzag gig (details on the Sunas Gigs page). The next festival is a bit of a contrast to this one. It’s in the snow...
Maybe I’ll finally get a chance to wear my velvet jacket!
Listening to: 'Insides' by Jon Hopkins
We had a nightflight up to Mackay, which meant one of those wonderful take-offs over Brisbane, then a quite mysterious bus ride out into the tropics courtesy of the magnificent Jim (who waited very patiently at the airport as we were quite delayed). We also got to meet the very cool and suave Ira from the Perch Creek Family JugBand
Have you ever seen Brisbane from a 737 at night? (sorry Mr Kelly)
So now I’m sitting here, on an old couch backstage, on the verandah of the chai house listening to the wonderful sounds of Dev’lish Mary. The acoustics are just incredible. If we were to ever record a live album I'd want the mics placed right here. Every nuance, strum, breath, I can hear it all.
The Chai House. Inside it's like an old, wonderful barn
Alas I have a bit of a whiskey head on me at the moment, the result of a rather late and most excellent evening of tunes, laugher, candlelight and half a bottle of Glen Morangie. Our performances are over, except for tonight’s finale where we’ll get up with everyone for one last hooley. It has been just a lovely experience. I wrote last time about my perceived differences in festivals, and rather than go over old ground, I’ll just say that Wintermoon has to be one of the nicest I’ve been to. Maybe it’s the tropical environment, but everything here runs at a lightly slower clock. We’ve actually had a lot of time to sit, talk and play with people (and work on some material for our new album and some special stuff for the joint gig with Jigzag in a couple of weeks). It’s a very recharging experience, and after the hectic start to the year, it’s almost been like a beautiful little time-out.
The wash basin, complete with one of Jenny's Chickens (and yes we couldn't resist playing the tune!)
Except for the shows. They’re a mass of dancing, heaving bodies (often led by the ever-enthusiastic Alan Kelly from the great Barleyshakes). Saturday night’s show on the main stage was really grand, as what I thought was a low rumble through one of the mics actually turned out to be rain on the tarpaulins, not that that stopped anyone, in fact, it was almost as if a lot of folks had been waiting for just that moment to step out and dance dark in the rain.
One aspect of this festival that I really loved was that they fed us. Not because I'm a guts, but more because for three times a day, most of the musos and performers were brought together around the chai house. This was conducive to some very interesting conversations and no small number of impromptu jams over the truly wonderful food. It's something only a smaller festival could do (can you imagine the logistics behind say, Woodford, feeding 1500+ performers?), but it really made a difference to us.
The Amazing S. Sëan Tretheway holding court with his magic
Some other highlights:
Sarah being slightly tipsy and shining the torch into the sky and yelling, ‘Look at the size of that spider web!’ only for us to point out it was a powerline.
Having a wonderfully ambient pee in a spooky, candle-lit toilet then turning it into a drunken Phantom of the Opera reenactment (probably the sort of thing you had to be there for).
Chatting to Campbell the Swaggy (who actually lives here!). What an incredibly interesting and erudite man. He was nearly always asleep upright in a chair by the open fire in the Chai House, empty tea mug in his hand when I crept in for my very early morning coffee.
Sarah and Campbell
Having our dear friend Nadia Sunde singing with us on ‘Dreams’, then leading the early morning crowd on a few choruses.
Having the amazing Nahm paint a mural of our album art over alongside the other artists that have passed through.
Chatting to all the wonderful people who queued to buy a cd, then waited in the sun while we ran around looking for a signing pen.
Meeting too many new friends to mention here. Festivals have turned into these wonderful reunions for us now, and it's wonderful to be part of the family.
The final evening here was something very special, and I think I'll let Sarah write about that (I'm adding this little extra bit back home in Brisbane -I'm not psychic!). But here's a small taster of the final concert
Sarah and Bridget join in the brilliant finale
So, next stop, the Irish Club, then it’s the Jigzag gig (details on the Sunas Gigs page). The next festival is a bit of a contrast to this one. It’s in the snow...
Maybe I’ll finally get a chance to wear my velvet jacket!
Listening to: 'Insides' by Jon Hopkins
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
The National: A First-Timer's Perspective
Yep, it’s my first National. I’ve been to Canberra before, and despite the uninspiring architecture and the reason for its existence (pollies), I’ve always quite enjoyed myself here. And of course we’re in autumn, so all the beautiful oaks, silver birches and maples are on the turn, something which I love (and makes me a bit homesick!). It’s still warm here during the day (and it’s that dry air that sneaks down from the mountains) but the nights are lovely and cool. It’s always a nice moment when I have to pull my big brown jacket out of the cupboard.
The thing I’m discovering about Australian folk festivals is that they all seem to have their own personalities, and that’s a very special thing. Woodford is a week long side-step into another realm, Port Fairy is a beautiful, gentle seaside adventure, and the Tasmanian ones are like coming home. A lot of people regard the National as the Festival, but that just depends on one’s perspective I think. So far (and I’m writing this very early on a Sunday morning with the infamous Canberra magpies chortling outside my window and a couple of day to go) it’s been great; intense, saturating, exciting, almost overwhelming.
We’ve had some moments. The gig at the Troubadour was wonderful, as it always is, and it was great to see a lot of familiar faces (as well as a many new ones) in the audience. Thank you to everyone that has come up and had a chat or bought a cd. I’m really not lying when I say it took us three hours to get from one end of the festival to the other because we were either stopped or had bumped into someone we knew. We have another gig at the Merry Muse this afternoon that we’re really looking forward to as well. We’re actually in quite good company here as ‘stealth’ performers who are not on the official program. Kavisha Mazella is here, half of our good mates the To’Rags, and John & Nic from Cloudstreet did a glorious set at the Troub last night (complete with John borrowing my guitar as he’d left his at home –it was quite surreal sitting in the audience watching)
But there have been down moments too.
Pierre Bensusan stole my shirt.
It’s true. We were both in the same shop trying on clothes and he took the last XXL (we are about the same height). Of course he did offer it to me first but who am I to refuse one of my truly lifelong inspirations (Pierre is probably the greatest master of DADGAD guitar tuning alive. This is a man that can effortlessly play jazz in any key in this tuning). In exchange for the shirt, I asked for a photo, but in his ineffably cool French accent, he said,
“Non.”
Unless he could have a picture with Sarah and Bridget first. For some reason the girls didn’t mind! And so it was that we ending up spending much of the first night wandering around with him shopping and introducing him to the now legendry Súnas ‘numpty shot’ (and a very special 'Numpty Gallery' is coming soon!).
The next evening, we bumped into Pierre sitting at a table in Central Park. While I went off to get us all a round of coffees (and the coffee here is most excellent) and meet Bridge, Sarah lingered. We returned to find the two of them jamming along to ‘My Lagan Love’, Pierre on his breathtaking Lowden, Sarah singing. Nano Stern and his lovely manager Brian joined us, the great David Hyams, and pretty soon the jamming was on for all. It was also great craic altogether to watch Sarah’s face as Nano and Pierre spoke to each other in delicious French/Spanish accents.
And so we get to my favourite part of the festival so far. Liz Frencham and her partner Steve wandered past, caught one look (and listen) of the table, stopped, Liz said, “I am SO getting my bass!” and hared off to the lockup. I just cracked up! What followed was one of the most eclectic sessions I’ve ever experienced, everything from Liz’s originals to Etta James.
Wish you could have been there. It was grand.
The thing I’m discovering about Australian folk festivals is that they all seem to have their own personalities, and that’s a very special thing. Woodford is a week long side-step into another realm, Port Fairy is a beautiful, gentle seaside adventure, and the Tasmanian ones are like coming home. A lot of people regard the National as the Festival, but that just depends on one’s perspective I think. So far (and I’m writing this very early on a Sunday morning with the infamous Canberra magpies chortling outside my window and a couple of day to go) it’s been great; intense, saturating, exciting, almost overwhelming.
We’ve had some moments. The gig at the Troubadour was wonderful, as it always is, and it was great to see a lot of familiar faces (as well as a many new ones) in the audience. Thank you to everyone that has come up and had a chat or bought a cd. I’m really not lying when I say it took us three hours to get from one end of the festival to the other because we were either stopped or had bumped into someone we knew. We have another gig at the Merry Muse this afternoon that we’re really looking forward to as well. We’re actually in quite good company here as ‘stealth’ performers who are not on the official program. Kavisha Mazella is here, half of our good mates the To’Rags, and John & Nic from Cloudstreet did a glorious set at the Troub last night (complete with John borrowing my guitar as he’d left his at home –it was quite surreal sitting in the audience watching)
But there have been down moments too.
Pierre Bensusan stole my shirt.
It’s true. We were both in the same shop trying on clothes and he took the last XXL (we are about the same height). Of course he did offer it to me first but who am I to refuse one of my truly lifelong inspirations (Pierre is probably the greatest master of DADGAD guitar tuning alive. This is a man that can effortlessly play jazz in any key in this tuning). In exchange for the shirt, I asked for a photo, but in his ineffably cool French accent, he said,
“Non.”
Unless he could have a picture with Sarah and Bridget first. For some reason the girls didn’t mind! And so it was that we ending up spending much of the first night wandering around with him shopping and introducing him to the now legendry Súnas ‘numpty shot’ (and a very special 'Numpty Gallery' is coming soon!).
The next evening, we bumped into Pierre sitting at a table in Central Park. While I went off to get us all a round of coffees (and the coffee here is most excellent) and meet Bridge, Sarah lingered. We returned to find the two of them jamming along to ‘My Lagan Love’, Pierre on his breathtaking Lowden, Sarah singing. Nano Stern and his lovely manager Brian joined us, the great David Hyams, and pretty soon the jamming was on for all. It was also great craic altogether to watch Sarah’s face as Nano and Pierre spoke to each other in delicious French/Spanish accents.
And so we get to my favourite part of the festival so far. Liz Frencham and her partner Steve wandered past, caught one look (and listen) of the table, stopped, Liz said, “I am SO getting my bass!” and hared off to the lockup. I just cracked up! What followed was one of the most eclectic sessions I’ve ever experienced, everything from Liz’s originals to Etta James.
Wish you could have been there. It was grand.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
The Burke and Wills Festival
The support crew at Port Fairy very kindly arranged for a car to take us the 25kms to Warrnambool station, where we’d get a train into Melbourne central to meet with the bus that would ferry us to the airport where we would pick up the hire car that we’d drive to the Burke & Wills festival in Mia Mia. It was a bit more of a palaver than it should have been because it was a public holiday, but I had a nice rock and roll moment chugging through the streets of Melbourne in a bus with my instruments. Don’t ask me what it was exactly, but I’ve always wanted to see Melbourne and to be there after a great festival on the way to another one was quite a nice feeling.
The drive from Melbourne to the Burke & Wills Festival north of Melbourne was an eye-opener for me.
I, like most of Australia and people around the world had watched the news reports in horror and disbelief on the bushfire tragedies in Victoria. It was one thing to watch on TV, but it was quite another to be confronted with the aftermath driving through the Victorian landscape to Andrew Pattison’s winery. No-one said how dry the land is. Parched, brown, dusty grass. At times I likened it to the surface of the moon and this was even before we saw what the fire had done.
Enormous stretches of blackened trees with orange leaves. It was quite surreal. We had heard reports of a fire headed towards Andrew & Heather’s winery but thankfully the firefighters contained the blaze. Victorians have assured me that once some decent rains fall it’s astonishing how quickly things green up again, and I hope this happens quickly for them.
Soon after we arrived a gorgeously healthy dinner was served (by healthy I mean salad, grilled zucchini, roast potatoes & grilled chicken breast, but these were leftovers according to Andrew. It was wonderful!) and Bridget & James Fagan decided to have a photographer snap-off, eg, Bridget took a photo of James while he was taking a photo of Paul & I taking photos of ourselves. Musicians are mental, no explanations are required:
After witnessing a spectacular sunset and full moon rising simultaneously, we were onstage performing.
Look closely and you can see the full moon!
The only downside to this gig was that Mannie wasn’t with us as he headed back to Brisbane for work earlier that morning. Still, it went pretty well. I have noticed that when we perform my song, ‘Drink Up Me Boys’ the audience tends to become rather teary, so I have now decided that this song requires a disclaimer that tissues may be required. As we had completely sold out at Port Fairy we unfortunately had no CDs to sell, however Bridget found a lone one buried in her suitcase and Andrew graciously offered to donate his own copy to sell, so we actually sold two. Big thanks to Martin Pearson who manned the merchandise table and sold our two CDs!
We then proceeded to have one of the most magical, intimate and memorable evenings I have experienced in a long time. I am giving my personal detailed opinion of each of the performers here, as a broad opinion simply would not do them justice. With glasses of wine, lovely lighting and an audience of 30 or so, I had the absolute pleasure of watching Irish folk singer Enda Kenny, who literally had us all spellbound with his achingly beautiful songs & stunning melodies. His performance was so pure and honest that I decided to buy his albums two songs into his set.
Enda was ably followed by Nancy Kerr & James Fagan, performing in their element and absolute best form. Nancy’s current songs written while staying in Australia for the past few months are the finest I’ve heard from this incredible duo thus far, and I can’t *wait* to hear the album that captures these. ‘Sweet Peace’ and ‘Queen of the Water’ are still rolling around in my head; testament to Nancy’s songwriting ability and their ability to consistently perform and deliver.
After Nancy & James was Nano Stern from Chile. There is nothing more endearing for an audience member than watching a talented performer crack jokes and charm the pants off you in your own language. Nano decided to play a softer set than usual and concentrated on beautiful South American folk songs. He may have been singing in Spanish, but we all knew exactly what he was saying. A wonderfully earthy performance by a mesmerising guitarist and singer (who also plays a mean harmonic flute!).
Martin Pearson rounded the night off by performing songs cabaret style. I had fun watching him – he truly loves to sing, and does a brilliant job. Martin was backed by Alex Legg and Chris Pain, accomplished musicians themselves on guitar and harmonica. The evening progressed into a mad drinking session and telling of odd and peculiar tour stories with more than a few sore heads at breakfast the following morning!
We spent the night in Killara, a huge B&B just down the road that Andrew had booked out just for the artists and hit the road the next morning back to Brisbane and the mundane world of phone calls, trash emails, junk mail and preparing for St Pats.
Huge thanks to Andrew and Heather for inviting us to play at this amazing festival, putting us up and generally looking after everyone. It was a fantastic night and we felt so privileged to be a part of it.
The drive from Melbourne to the Burke & Wills Festival north of Melbourne was an eye-opener for me.
I, like most of Australia and people around the world had watched the news reports in horror and disbelief on the bushfire tragedies in Victoria. It was one thing to watch on TV, but it was quite another to be confronted with the aftermath driving through the Victorian landscape to Andrew Pattison’s winery. No-one said how dry the land is. Parched, brown, dusty grass. At times I likened it to the surface of the moon and this was even before we saw what the fire had done.
Enormous stretches of blackened trees with orange leaves. It was quite surreal. We had heard reports of a fire headed towards Andrew & Heather’s winery but thankfully the firefighters contained the blaze. Victorians have assured me that once some decent rains fall it’s astonishing how quickly things green up again, and I hope this happens quickly for them.
Soon after we arrived a gorgeously healthy dinner was served (by healthy I mean salad, grilled zucchini, roast potatoes & grilled chicken breast, but these were leftovers according to Andrew. It was wonderful!) and Bridget & James Fagan decided to have a photographer snap-off, eg, Bridget took a photo of James while he was taking a photo of Paul & I taking photos of ourselves. Musicians are mental, no explanations are required:
After witnessing a spectacular sunset and full moon rising simultaneously, we were onstage performing.
Look closely and you can see the full moon!
The only downside to this gig was that Mannie wasn’t with us as he headed back to Brisbane for work earlier that morning. Still, it went pretty well. I have noticed that when we perform my song, ‘Drink Up Me Boys’ the audience tends to become rather teary, so I have now decided that this song requires a disclaimer that tissues may be required. As we had completely sold out at Port Fairy we unfortunately had no CDs to sell, however Bridget found a lone one buried in her suitcase and Andrew graciously offered to donate his own copy to sell, so we actually sold two. Big thanks to Martin Pearson who manned the merchandise table and sold our two CDs!
We then proceeded to have one of the most magical, intimate and memorable evenings I have experienced in a long time. I am giving my personal detailed opinion of each of the performers here, as a broad opinion simply would not do them justice. With glasses of wine, lovely lighting and an audience of 30 or so, I had the absolute pleasure of watching Irish folk singer Enda Kenny, who literally had us all spellbound with his achingly beautiful songs & stunning melodies. His performance was so pure and honest that I decided to buy his albums two songs into his set.
Enda was ably followed by Nancy Kerr & James Fagan, performing in their element and absolute best form. Nancy’s current songs written while staying in Australia for the past few months are the finest I’ve heard from this incredible duo thus far, and I can’t *wait* to hear the album that captures these. ‘Sweet Peace’ and ‘Queen of the Water’ are still rolling around in my head; testament to Nancy’s songwriting ability and their ability to consistently perform and deliver.
After Nancy & James was Nano Stern from Chile. There is nothing more endearing for an audience member than watching a talented performer crack jokes and charm the pants off you in your own language. Nano decided to play a softer set than usual and concentrated on beautiful South American folk songs. He may have been singing in Spanish, but we all knew exactly what he was saying. A wonderfully earthy performance by a mesmerising guitarist and singer (who also plays a mean harmonic flute!).
Martin Pearson rounded the night off by performing songs cabaret style. I had fun watching him – he truly loves to sing, and does a brilliant job. Martin was backed by Alex Legg and Chris Pain, accomplished musicians themselves on guitar and harmonica. The evening progressed into a mad drinking session and telling of odd and peculiar tour stories with more than a few sore heads at breakfast the following morning!
We spent the night in Killara, a huge B&B just down the road that Andrew had booked out just for the artists and hit the road the next morning back to Brisbane and the mundane world of phone calls, trash emails, junk mail and preparing for St Pats.
Huge thanks to Andrew and Heather for inviting us to play at this amazing festival, putting us up and generally looking after everyone. It was a fantastic night and we felt so privileged to be a part of it.
Listening to: 'Here & There' by Enda Kenny
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Port Fairy Folk Festival
For us, the Port Fairy Folk Festival started in true rock and roll style; getting into trouble at Brisbane airport at 4am.
When we fly, Mannie and I have to check the guitar and bouzouki into the over-sized baggage area (long gone are the days of carrying our treasures onboard with us). Before the instruments disappear down the conveyer, they’re checked for explosives. A yawning security officer swabbed Mannie’s zouk and the machine started beeping. Nonplussed, he did another swab and again, the machine went nuts (I nearly wrote ‘ballistic’ there but that would’ve been a really crap joke!). On the third time it came through clean, and the guard explained they’re sometimes twitchy in the mornings. I guess machines need coffee too. But then as we went through the personal gate, Mannie was singled out for the search, and once again the swabs turned up positive. By now, we were wondering if perhaps it was something he worked with to do with carpentry, and were getting worried, but again, after a couple more runs it came through clean. The security people didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, but it was fairly amusing to me as the officer had a strong Russian-style accent, and there was Mannie with his Belfast brogue…
We caught the Port Fairy bus with a bunch of other similarly tired-looking musos including most of Shooglenifty (whom we seem to always bump into no matter where we are) and settled in for the 5-hour long, flat, brown bus ride. Thank heavens for iPods and airport novels!
Port Fairy is an utterly gorgeous town. Streets tunnelled by huge Norfolk pines, old kooky-looking buildings, the sea… It’s just lovely. It reminded us a little of Ross in Tasmania, except with the ocean. The festival itself is huge. The whole town gets involved, and for one weekend of the year this affluent sleepy seaside town is transformed utterly. The festival encompasses the town, using local venues, the main street, the surf club, church halls etc, with the central festival area taking over the vast sports/cricket ground. This part of the festival is separate, as it contains the paid venues, and it’s a bit like a country fair; big tents, stalls, performers etc, but the genius here is there’s a lot of free entertainment outside of the main event. Someone told me the tickets for this festival sell out so fast, they’re done through a lottery system. Judging by the great crowds, I’d believe it. The concert venues are great, and the organisers really go to town decorating the stages (something other festivals might want to take on board as some of the venues really did look special). The biggest of the tents looks like something out of Cirque de Solei and is really massive.
We were put up by the wonderful John & Del, in a very cosy B&B style environment. Beds were made mysteriously while we were gone, and chocolate biccies and tea bags were magically replenished. It was grand.
So, five gigs in four days. As this was our first time performing in Victoria, we really had no idea how we’d go, especially as there was a strong Celtic contingent including the aforementioned Shoogles, Nancy & James Fagan, Seamus Begley & Jim Murray, Alan Kelly, Colcannon and more.
We were just overwhelmed by the response.
Our first gig inside the festival was so packed the MC had to come on halfway through and ask everyone to move in more. This brings me to a wonderful festival institution called the Port Fairy Shuffle. Most of the venues have very minimal seating, and patrons are encouraged to bring their own chairs (the small baby deckchair things –there’s a height restriction). This sounds clumsy, but it works very well, as for gigs like the Shoogles or The Waifs, there’s always lots of good dancing room. When asked, the whole seated audience will shuffle over to make more room. It’s quite something to behold. No grumbling, complaints, people just do it. It’s also quite odd to see folks wandering around with deck chairs slung over their shoulders. I doubt it would work somewhere like Woodford, because of the heat, but in temperate Western Vic, it works a treat! After the gig, we’re allowed to sell our cds from the side of the stage (there is also a well-stocked shop). From an artist point of view this is brilliant because it’s immediate, and despite what I thought, it didn’t get in the way of the next performer at all. After that gig, we had a queue across the floor for cds. Now this is my only negative about the weekend, but really it’s an amazing thing. We sold out of cds by the third day. I packed an entire caseload, and each of us had a load stuffed into bags. But hey, that’s a brilliant thing, and we ended up taking orders. I had an incredible moment, taking the last batch of cds into the store only to literally have them taken from in front of me one by one while I filled out the extra paperwork. By the time I had signed them in, they were gone.
The other wonderful ‘downside’ is that we are now very nearly sold out of our first pressing of albums. The second pressing will be delivered soon. It’s a very nice feeling!
We had the most amazing time. It’s an incredibly-well organised festival, and the support crews were just fantastic. Not once did we have a grumpy driver or an unhelpful person. In fact one of our drivers went out of her way to give us a guided tour of the town and the beautiful headland, and the crew even managed to organise a lift for us to Warrnambool on Monday, 25kms away (more about that and the Burke & Wills festival in another blog). We got to see a lot of great acts (in addition to those already mentioned), including Lior, The brilliant Scared Weird Little guys (I nearly lost my coffee over the country singer skit), the Waifs, Gibb Todd, Mark Seymour, The Audreys, and the awesome Nano Stern from Chile.
And the coffee was great too, although being a bit cool in the mornings, the queues were often huge!
It was a smashing weekend, easily worth the 2am departure! But it wasn’t over yet, as on the Monday, we hopped a car, a train, a bus then a hire car and made it to the extremely intimate Burke & Wills festival…
When we fly, Mannie and I have to check the guitar and bouzouki into the over-sized baggage area (long gone are the days of carrying our treasures onboard with us). Before the instruments disappear down the conveyer, they’re checked for explosives. A yawning security officer swabbed Mannie’s zouk and the machine started beeping. Nonplussed, he did another swab and again, the machine went nuts (I nearly wrote ‘ballistic’ there but that would’ve been a really crap joke!). On the third time it came through clean, and the guard explained they’re sometimes twitchy in the mornings. I guess machines need coffee too. But then as we went through the personal gate, Mannie was singled out for the search, and once again the swabs turned up positive. By now, we were wondering if perhaps it was something he worked with to do with carpentry, and were getting worried, but again, after a couple more runs it came through clean. The security people didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, but it was fairly amusing to me as the officer had a strong Russian-style accent, and there was Mannie with his Belfast brogue…
We caught the Port Fairy bus with a bunch of other similarly tired-looking musos including most of Shooglenifty (whom we seem to always bump into no matter where we are) and settled in for the 5-hour long, flat, brown bus ride. Thank heavens for iPods and airport novels!
Port Fairy is an utterly gorgeous town. Streets tunnelled by huge Norfolk pines, old kooky-looking buildings, the sea… It’s just lovely. It reminded us a little of Ross in Tasmania, except with the ocean. The festival itself is huge. The whole town gets involved, and for one weekend of the year this affluent sleepy seaside town is transformed utterly. The festival encompasses the town, using local venues, the main street, the surf club, church halls etc, with the central festival area taking over the vast sports/cricket ground. This part of the festival is separate, as it contains the paid venues, and it’s a bit like a country fair; big tents, stalls, performers etc, but the genius here is there’s a lot of free entertainment outside of the main event. Someone told me the tickets for this festival sell out so fast, they’re done through a lottery system. Judging by the great crowds, I’d believe it. The concert venues are great, and the organisers really go to town decorating the stages (something other festivals might want to take on board as some of the venues really did look special). The biggest of the tents looks like something out of Cirque de Solei and is really massive.
We were put up by the wonderful John & Del, in a very cosy B&B style environment. Beds were made mysteriously while we were gone, and chocolate biccies and tea bags were magically replenished. It was grand.
So, five gigs in four days. As this was our first time performing in Victoria, we really had no idea how we’d go, especially as there was a strong Celtic contingent including the aforementioned Shoogles, Nancy & James Fagan, Seamus Begley & Jim Murray, Alan Kelly, Colcannon and more.
We were just overwhelmed by the response.
Following on From Seamus Begley & Jim Murray -a tough job!
Our first gig inside the festival was so packed the MC had to come on halfway through and ask everyone to move in more. This brings me to a wonderful festival institution called the Port Fairy Shuffle. Most of the venues have very minimal seating, and patrons are encouraged to bring their own chairs (the small baby deckchair things –there’s a height restriction). This sounds clumsy, but it works very well, as for gigs like the Shoogles or The Waifs, there’s always lots of good dancing room. When asked, the whole seated audience will shuffle over to make more room. It’s quite something to behold. No grumbling, complaints, people just do it. It’s also quite odd to see folks wandering around with deck chairs slung over their shoulders. I doubt it would work somewhere like Woodford, because of the heat, but in temperate Western Vic, it works a treat! After the gig, we’re allowed to sell our cds from the side of the stage (there is also a well-stocked shop). From an artist point of view this is brilliant because it’s immediate, and despite what I thought, it didn’t get in the way of the next performer at all. After that gig, we had a queue across the floor for cds. Now this is my only negative about the weekend, but really it’s an amazing thing. We sold out of cds by the third day. I packed an entire caseload, and each of us had a load stuffed into bags. But hey, that’s a brilliant thing, and we ended up taking orders. I had an incredible moment, taking the last batch of cds into the store only to literally have them taken from in front of me one by one while I filled out the extra paperwork. By the time I had signed them in, they were gone.
The other wonderful ‘downside’ is that we are now very nearly sold out of our first pressing of albums. The second pressing will be delivered soon. It’s a very nice feeling!
We had the most amazing time. It’s an incredibly-well organised festival, and the support crews were just fantastic. Not once did we have a grumpy driver or an unhelpful person. In fact one of our drivers went out of her way to give us a guided tour of the town and the beautiful headland, and the crew even managed to organise a lift for us to Warrnambool on Monday, 25kms away (more about that and the Burke & Wills festival in another blog). We got to see a lot of great acts (in addition to those already mentioned), including Lior, The brilliant Scared Weird Little guys (I nearly lost my coffee over the country singer skit), the Waifs, Gibb Todd, Mark Seymour, The Audreys, and the awesome Nano Stern from Chile.
And the coffee was great too, although being a bit cool in the mornings, the queues were often huge!
It was a smashing weekend, easily worth the 2am departure! But it wasn’t over yet, as on the Monday, we hopped a car, a train, a bus then a hire car and made it to the extremely intimate Burke & Wills festival…
Listening to: 'Battlestar Galactica: Season 3 Soundtrack' by Bear McCreary
Thursday, February 26, 2009
The Last Madass
The smashing Pirate Brides playing at the very last session of the
Madass Folk Club in Brisbane. We're short of something wonderful after
tonight...
Listening to: 'the sound of crickets from the madass stage...for now'
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
In Reply to Your Polite Questions...
We got this lovely email today:
Your Name: Confused
Your Email: (Was fake)
Subject: National?
Message: So, when you say you have a gig at the National, are you performing under a different name? Because under the "complete list of acts and artists", I don't see Sunas. Or perhaps you just mean you're going to the National as paying patrons? You don't actually have a gig there do you? It's just bignoting isn't it. And you probably thought nobody would check.
Dear Confused,
We tried to reply to the email you left, but there must have been a typo as it was immediately bounced back 'Sender Unknown' (and the address was rather silly). So in the Súnas tradition of attempting to answer all mail, here's your reply:
"Wow, thank you 'Confused' for your message & in depth sleuthing. It's true, we're not listed to perform at the National Folk Festival on the official program or the "complete list of acts and artists".
But we are however, performing. The brilliant Andrew Pattison of the infamous Troubador tent fame has given us the opportunity to play a concert at the Troub (which is privately booked independently of the Festival Proper). As yet we don't know when or what time (this is why our performance times aren't up yet); we will be informed when we arrive at the National. Needless to say, we're utterly thrilled about this.
So in answer to your question, no, we're not going as paying patrons, although Sarah did last year & had a fantastic time and Bridget has been going for many years. Even if we were going as paying patrons we would still aim to perform blackboard concerts and do our best to advertise it on our website (which we will also be doing anyway) and on posters around the National festival, as we have many friends who would be keen to see us after we performed at the Canberra Folkus Club last year. I don't seem to recall any Sunas blogs screaming that we're playing at the National, apart from our Gig listing. If artists are performing at the National, is it bignoting to list their gigs? If so, we're guilty as charged.
I hope this has helped clear things up. Thanks for spending your time checking up on this (and every other gig listed no doubt) and then spending the time to send such a nice email.
Yours, as always,
Súnas"
Your Name: Confused
Your Email: (Was fake)
Subject: National?
Message: So, when you say you have a gig at the National, are you performing under a different name? Because under the "complete list of acts and artists", I don't see Sunas. Or perhaps you just mean you're going to the National as paying patrons? You don't actually have a gig there do you? It's just bignoting isn't it. And you probably thought nobody would check.
Dear Confused,
We tried to reply to the email you left, but there must have been a typo as it was immediately bounced back 'Sender Unknown' (and the address was rather silly). So in the Súnas tradition of attempting to answer all mail, here's your reply:
"Wow, thank you 'Confused' for your message & in depth sleuthing. It's true, we're not listed to perform at the National Folk Festival on the official program or the "complete list of acts and artists".
But we are however, performing. The brilliant Andrew Pattison of the infamous Troubador tent fame has given us the opportunity to play a concert at the Troub (which is privately booked independently of the Festival Proper). As yet we don't know when or what time (this is why our performance times aren't up yet); we will be informed when we arrive at the National. Needless to say, we're utterly thrilled about this.
So in answer to your question, no, we're not going as paying patrons, although Sarah did last year & had a fantastic time and Bridget has been going for many years. Even if we were going as paying patrons we would still aim to perform blackboard concerts and do our best to advertise it on our website (which we will also be doing anyway) and on posters around the National festival, as we have many friends who would be keen to see us after we performed at the Canberra Folkus Club last year. I don't seem to recall any Sunas blogs screaming that we're playing at the National, apart from our Gig listing. If artists are performing at the National, is it bignoting to list their gigs? If so, we're guilty as charged.
I hope this has helped clear things up. Thanks for spending your time checking up on this (and every other gig listed no doubt) and then spending the time to send such a nice email.
Yours, as always,
Súnas"
Monday, February 16, 2009
So You Think You Can Krump . . . to a Tuneset?
Last night we performed down the coast at one of our regular pubs. Every now and then we have a night which causes images that you don't freely forget to linger in your mind.
We were playing our mental Triple A tuneset, which is one that I quite enjoy playing, as I go to town on the improv :) Sometimes when we play tunesets I get lost in the music, other times I watch the audience intently. Last night I was watching intently as a girl krumped to our tunes.
For those who are unaware (Ps, I'm not an expert on this subject; actually far from it), krumping is an urban street dance-form that originated in South Central Los Angeles and is characterised by free, energetic and highly expressive moves involving the arms and chest (source, www.wikipedia.com). Or for a more entertaining definition, please visit here.
I was utterly transfixed. Being completely dance-challenged I watched as this girl, on the courage of a few drinks & wearing insanely high heels moved her body to our music. To say she was great is a bit of an overstatement; at times it bordered on obscene. But to her credit, she didn't fall over and, despite the environment, everyone couldn't help but watch her dance. In all my days as a performer I didn't know you *could* krump to tunes!
It just goes to show that anything is possible.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Cygnet Folk Festival -A Paul Perspective
So, Tasmania.
This blog has taken me ages to get to simply because there’s just so much to write about. I guess I’ll use the time-honoured tradition and start at the beginning:
We had three days between the close of Woodford (we stayed on at the site those extra couple of days) and catching the 6am plane for Hobart. Luckily, it was just a matter of washing the Woodford stuff, restringing and then putting everything back into the bags. 6am flights are nasty. It means a 3am get out of bed. Nasty (and I’m still sorry Sarah –there really was no later choice). The flight was fine, the nice person at Virgin let us check in those few extra muso kilos without any trouble and after a wee changeover at Sydney, we were in Jackman & MacRoss before we knew it, hugging Helen and eating our beloved friands, pies and coffee. I won’t bother extolling their virtues here –just look at any of the previous blogs.
That night we played a small little gig at the Lark Distillery as part of the program launch, and it gave us a great opportunity to catch up with all our good friends and of course sample Bill and Kiera’s fabulous whiskeys and liqueurs.
We were asked back in March to perform at this year’s Cygnet Festival, and we’ve been looking forward to it since then. We played a guest spot there in 2007 and it’s just a wonderful little festival, set in the town of Cygnet in the Huon Valley, which is about an hour’s drive south of Hobart. It’s a beautiful area, lush, green, full of orchards and organic food producers. The days were hot, but the temperature dropped quite dramatically when the sun went down, and just coming off the heat of Woodford, we probably hadn’t packed as many warm things as we should have. Still, that’s what the alcohol and tunes were for! So, once again packed in to Helen’s big red ex-fire truck Hilux, we set off on adventures. We had a wee bit of a surprise as we found we were staying in the scout hall at the main camp ground, quite literally four mattresses inside a large hall. That was fine until the Scouts came in at 5am to fire up a campers’ breakfast BBQ in another section of the hall. Every so often, a uniformed lad would sneak through a door and then, head down, bolt for the kitchen to get a fork or something, then thunder back. Of course, after an hour or so, the hall was filled with a sausage-tinged haze that made sleeping (and indeed breathing) a bit tricky, so it was off to the bucket showers (I kid not).
The gigs went down really well. We had an extra workshop that we weren’t aware of (and some of the programming had been changed but not updated in the program or with us), but other than that, we had a great time. The highlight once again was Dougie MacLean. Bridget and I bumped into him on the first night, wandering around in search of some fun and we ended up hanging out. Now, this is where I come to the only real downside with the festival. After dark, Cygnet becomes…belligerent. That seems to be the best way to describe it. As we walked the High Street, we were abused from the dark (one guy told Dougie ‘Get a fucking haircut and a job, hippy,’ which we all found hysterical) and there are quite literally gangs of kids roaming around looking for trouble. This isn’t my over active imagination at work, as there were even ‘guards’ on the entrance to the camp site. It’s a odd thing, and it sparked much discussion over the weekend. You’d think that people would be happy for the custom and tourist influx (I know we spent a great deal of our fee eating at the superb Red Velvet Lounge and the wonderful coffee at the Lotus Eaters Café), but friends who live locally tell us it’s a fairly common thing in the area. There just isn’t anything to do after dark (except harass folkies once a year apparently). But enough of the negative, it really was only a small thing and didn’t impact on our enjoyment at all (although Bridge and I did walk Dougie home at about 4am –and I’m not sure if that was for his protection or the local populace…)
So, Dougie. We’d chatted about the idea of us doing a song together, and he was still keen, so we decided to have a crack at Green Grow the Rashes. We met up with him the next morning (we had a gig right after his in the main town hall that afternoon, which was perfect) and pretty much spent a wonderful morning jamming on a picture-perfect verandah surrounded by flowering shrubs and rolling hills. This was also the first time Helen got to meet him (she’s been a fan for many many years) and that was really special (we’d gotten Dougie to leave a message on her answer machine at Woodford that she’ll probably never delete). It wasn't long before Helen had spoken to Jenny MacLean and they'd agreed to come to Stanton after the festival for some chill out time. Helen is just amazing. She could sell a eunuch Viagra if she wanted to. Towards the end of the session, the subject of didgeridoos came up, and Dougie showed us this new, tuneable one he’d bought outside of Eumundi. It was great; plastic, not too heavy and sectioned so that not only was it tuneable to all keys, but it telescoped down to be very portable. And it sounded brilliant. So, pushing our luck, we asked him if he’d like to play on Travelling Man as well, which has a didge on the album, but obviously very rarely live. He agreed, the pointed out he’d not played for about 11 years (he was actually taught by Aborigines in far north Queensland during one of his tours many moons ago). So with Sarah hurriedly learning the Scots words to Green Grow the Rashes, me trying to remember the intricate little guitar runs he’d shown me and Dougie remembering how to circular breathe, it was going to be a great afternoon.
And it was. The crowd that showed for Dougie stayed for us, and we played a really nice set of originals only. I was in a personal hell because something in my guitar floor rig hadn’t survived the flight (I was hoping it was only the power transformer and not the irreplaceable EQ unit), but halfway through one of the songs Bridget cracked up. She told me later it was because she had seen Dougie off to the side of the stage peeking at the audience through his didge as if it were a telescope. It was an amazing personal experience to play on stage with him, but in such a reciprocal manner too; one of his songs, one of our songs. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.
It was a great festival. We met up with Queensland friends Dave, Judy, Martin and Narelle there (for the second time) and also got to catch up with people we’d performed with before like Ethereal, Andrew Winton, the inimitable To’rags and of course Women in Docs.
There’s a second part to this blog, detailing the gigs and events that happened on the rest of our Tasmanian trip, but I think I’ll knock that up as a second entry, as there’s quite a lot still to tell.
This blog has taken me ages to get to simply because there’s just so much to write about. I guess I’ll use the time-honoured tradition and start at the beginning:
We had three days between the close of Woodford (we stayed on at the site those extra couple of days) and catching the 6am plane for Hobart. Luckily, it was just a matter of washing the Woodford stuff, restringing and then putting everything back into the bags. 6am flights are nasty. It means a 3am get out of bed. Nasty (and I’m still sorry Sarah –there really was no later choice). The flight was fine, the nice person at Virgin let us check in those few extra muso kilos without any trouble and after a wee changeover at Sydney, we were in Jackman & MacRoss before we knew it, hugging Helen and eating our beloved friands, pies and coffee. I won’t bother extolling their virtues here –just look at any of the previous blogs.
That night we played a small little gig at the Lark Distillery as part of the program launch, and it gave us a great opportunity to catch up with all our good friends and of course sample Bill and Kiera’s fabulous whiskeys and liqueurs.
We were asked back in March to perform at this year’s Cygnet Festival, and we’ve been looking forward to it since then. We played a guest spot there in 2007 and it’s just a wonderful little festival, set in the town of Cygnet in the Huon Valley, which is about an hour’s drive south of Hobart. It’s a beautiful area, lush, green, full of orchards and organic food producers. The days were hot, but the temperature dropped quite dramatically when the sun went down, and just coming off the heat of Woodford, we probably hadn’t packed as many warm things as we should have. Still, that’s what the alcohol and tunes were for! So, once again packed in to Helen’s big red ex-fire truck Hilux, we set off on adventures. We had a wee bit of a surprise as we found we were staying in the scout hall at the main camp ground, quite literally four mattresses inside a large hall. That was fine until the Scouts came in at 5am to fire up a campers’ breakfast BBQ in another section of the hall. Every so often, a uniformed lad would sneak through a door and then, head down, bolt for the kitchen to get a fork or something, then thunder back. Of course, after an hour or so, the hall was filled with a sausage-tinged haze that made sleeping (and indeed breathing) a bit tricky, so it was off to the bucket showers (I kid not).
The gigs went down really well. We had an extra workshop that we weren’t aware of (and some of the programming had been changed but not updated in the program or with us), but other than that, we had a great time. The highlight once again was Dougie MacLean. Bridget and I bumped into him on the first night, wandering around in search of some fun and we ended up hanging out. Now, this is where I come to the only real downside with the festival. After dark, Cygnet becomes…belligerent. That seems to be the best way to describe it. As we walked the High Street, we were abused from the dark (one guy told Dougie ‘Get a fucking haircut and a job, hippy,’ which we all found hysterical) and there are quite literally gangs of kids roaming around looking for trouble. This isn’t my over active imagination at work, as there were even ‘guards’ on the entrance to the camp site. It’s a odd thing, and it sparked much discussion over the weekend. You’d think that people would be happy for the custom and tourist influx (I know we spent a great deal of our fee eating at the superb Red Velvet Lounge and the wonderful coffee at the Lotus Eaters Café), but friends who live locally tell us it’s a fairly common thing in the area. There just isn’t anything to do after dark (except harass folkies once a year apparently). But enough of the negative, it really was only a small thing and didn’t impact on our enjoyment at all (although Bridge and I did walk Dougie home at about 4am –and I’m not sure if that was for his protection or the local populace…)
So, Dougie. We’d chatted about the idea of us doing a song together, and he was still keen, so we decided to have a crack at Green Grow the Rashes. We met up with him the next morning (we had a gig right after his in the main town hall that afternoon, which was perfect) and pretty much spent a wonderful morning jamming on a picture-perfect verandah surrounded by flowering shrubs and rolling hills. This was also the first time Helen got to meet him (she’s been a fan for many many years) and that was really special (we’d gotten Dougie to leave a message on her answer machine at Woodford that she’ll probably never delete). It wasn't long before Helen had spoken to Jenny MacLean and they'd agreed to come to Stanton after the festival for some chill out time. Helen is just amazing. She could sell a eunuch Viagra if she wanted to. Towards the end of the session, the subject of didgeridoos came up, and Dougie showed us this new, tuneable one he’d bought outside of Eumundi. It was great; plastic, not too heavy and sectioned so that not only was it tuneable to all keys, but it telescoped down to be very portable. And it sounded brilliant. So, pushing our luck, we asked him if he’d like to play on Travelling Man as well, which has a didge on the album, but obviously very rarely live. He agreed, the pointed out he’d not played for about 11 years (he was actually taught by Aborigines in far north Queensland during one of his tours many moons ago). So with Sarah hurriedly learning the Scots words to Green Grow the Rashes, me trying to remember the intricate little guitar runs he’d shown me and Dougie remembering how to circular breathe, it was going to be a great afternoon.
And it was. The crowd that showed for Dougie stayed for us, and we played a really nice set of originals only. I was in a personal hell because something in my guitar floor rig hadn’t survived the flight (I was hoping it was only the power transformer and not the irreplaceable EQ unit), but halfway through one of the songs Bridget cracked up. She told me later it was because she had seen Dougie off to the side of the stage peeking at the audience through his didge as if it were a telescope. It was an amazing personal experience to play on stage with him, but in such a reciprocal manner too; one of his songs, one of our songs. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.
It was a great festival. We met up with Queensland friends Dave, Judy, Martin and Narelle there (for the second time) and also got to catch up with people we’d performed with before like Ethereal, Andrew Winton, the inimitable To’rags and of course Women in Docs.
There’s a second part to this blog, detailing the gigs and events that happened on the rest of our Tasmanian trip, but I think I’ll knock that up as a second entry, as there’s quite a lot still to tell.
Cygnet Folk Festival – A Bridgey perspective
Pick the member of the band who doesn't have an iPhone or Mac permanently attached to them… well that would have been a good excuse if I hadn't been home for 2 weeks. So, it's been a while, and we've been very busy. Paul's Woodford blogs explain far more than I could ever hope to write about so I'll just skip that and go straight to Tasmania. Or to be more specific, the Cygnet Folk Festival. (There's also the Stanton adventures starring Helen, Rabbit, Di, Sam, Buffy and Twinkle… but I dare-say one of the others will fill you in about that).
Beautiful 15-degree Tasmania. Much more civilised than walking around with a wet sarong and a fan. Well that's what we thought until we saw our 'showers' and longed to be back in the Woodford campground. We arrived at the Cygnet folk festival in Helen's red truck and quickly went off to find out about our accommodation (being an interstate act we were being billeted… or so we thought). Our accommodation for the weekend turned out to be a massive scout hall, thoughtfully equipped with mattresses and bedding (mine, Paul's and Sair's up one end and Mannie way down in his snore-proof corner), our own toilets and to our delight – a kettle and coffee! A huge thanks to Leanne for setting us up so comfortably. The showers however, were a different story. Picture this: a bucket, a rope, a temporary stall and shower curtain and one monster wind sweeping through the room. After attempting to shower using the kitchen sink, Sair and I eventually braved it, taking turns holding the shower curtain in place for each other so we could at least use our bucket in private. (The next day Roz Pappalardo took pity on us and offered us the use of their shower – thanks Roz!).
So I guess I should actually go back to some sort of musical reference, seeing as we were at a festival with quite an amazing line up. Within minutes of arriving we had run into Dougie MacLean, Andrew Winton, various To'Rags and Roz, Geoff and Silas from Women in Docs. It was going to be a good festival. We kicked off the night watching Women in Docs rock it out in the town hall, before heading down to our own gig at the RSL. Despite some technical failures (and a very unhappy Paul having to play without his gadgets), the gig was great and it was amazing to catch up with some old Tassie friends (and a few that followed us all the way from Brisbane!).
Later that night, still on a high from the gig, Paul and I left sleeping beauty 1 and 2 in search of some fun… and maybe a wee dram. As we wandered the treacherous streets (bit of a Paul-writer moment there) we wound up at the middle pub (as opposed to bottom pub or top pub – I'm not joking), and were instantly claimed by none other than Dougie MacLean. Having made it through the streets himself (not an easy task after dark in Cygnet) and studying the choice of sessions being played madly throughout the pub, we decided that instead of playing it was necessary to drink and solve the problems of the world. Which of course we did. Take that world! We also decided that an inter-band, inter-country, inter-festival gig collaboration was necessary and settled upon a time and meeting place for the following day to hatch our plans.
So it was that we found ourselves on the verandah of Dougie and Jenny's cottage, playing and singing, taking silly photo's, and watching Helen's absolutely delighted expression as she convinced the MacLean's to visit Stanton after the festival. The end product was a guest appearance of the Bronzed Super-god himself (a bit of a joke after Dougie had played wearing sleeve-less tops and shorts up at Woodford and had acquired a decent tan) during the Sunas concert that afternoon. With a newly arranged version of Green Grow the Rashes, and the debut of Dougie's newly purchased tuneable didgeridoo during Travelling Man, you couldn't wipe the smiles of our faces. The day only got better with an impromptu session in the beer garden of the bottom pub, where Sair and Dougie attempted to out-smut each other through song.
Somewhere in there was a workshop, another gig, more catching up with friends (in particular sitting outside the pub for a good few hours with Chanel and Geoff, before being taken over by extremely enthusiastic Morris dancers!), drinking, the discovery of the curry box, and poor Sair battling the flu and coming very close to losing her voice. Sickness aside, it was a brilliant weekend and the fun only continued as we headed back to Stanton for another week or so.
That's all for now…
Beautiful 15-degree Tasmania. Much more civilised than walking around with a wet sarong and a fan. Well that's what we thought until we saw our 'showers' and longed to be back in the Woodford campground. We arrived at the Cygnet folk festival in Helen's red truck and quickly went off to find out about our accommodation (being an interstate act we were being billeted… or so we thought). Our accommodation for the weekend turned out to be a massive scout hall, thoughtfully equipped with mattresses and bedding (mine, Paul's and Sair's up one end and Mannie way down in his snore-proof corner), our own toilets and to our delight – a kettle and coffee! A huge thanks to Leanne for setting us up so comfortably. The showers however, were a different story. Picture this: a bucket, a rope, a temporary stall and shower curtain and one monster wind sweeping through the room. After attempting to shower using the kitchen sink, Sair and I eventually braved it, taking turns holding the shower curtain in place for each other so we could at least use our bucket in private. (The next day Roz Pappalardo took pity on us and offered us the use of their shower – thanks Roz!).
So I guess I should actually go back to some sort of musical reference, seeing as we were at a festival with quite an amazing line up. Within minutes of arriving we had run into Dougie MacLean, Andrew Winton, various To'Rags and Roz, Geoff and Silas from Women in Docs. It was going to be a good festival. We kicked off the night watching Women in Docs rock it out in the town hall, before heading down to our own gig at the RSL. Despite some technical failures (and a very unhappy Paul having to play without his gadgets), the gig was great and it was amazing to catch up with some old Tassie friends (and a few that followed us all the way from Brisbane!).
Later that night, still on a high from the gig, Paul and I left sleeping beauty 1 and 2 in search of some fun… and maybe a wee dram. As we wandered the treacherous streets (bit of a Paul-writer moment there) we wound up at the middle pub (as opposed to bottom pub or top pub – I'm not joking), and were instantly claimed by none other than Dougie MacLean. Having made it through the streets himself (not an easy task after dark in Cygnet) and studying the choice of sessions being played madly throughout the pub, we decided that instead of playing it was necessary to drink and solve the problems of the world. Which of course we did. Take that world! We also decided that an inter-band, inter-country, inter-festival gig collaboration was necessary and settled upon a time and meeting place for the following day to hatch our plans.
So it was that we found ourselves on the verandah of Dougie and Jenny's cottage, playing and singing, taking silly photo's, and watching Helen's absolutely delighted expression as she convinced the MacLean's to visit Stanton after the festival. The end product was a guest appearance of the Bronzed Super-god himself (a bit of a joke after Dougie had played wearing sleeve-less tops and shorts up at Woodford and had acquired a decent tan) during the Sunas concert that afternoon. With a newly arranged version of Green Grow the Rashes, and the debut of Dougie's newly purchased tuneable didgeridoo during Travelling Man, you couldn't wipe the smiles of our faces. The day only got better with an impromptu session in the beer garden of the bottom pub, where Sair and Dougie attempted to out-smut each other through song.
Somewhere in there was a workshop, another gig, more catching up with friends (in particular sitting outside the pub for a good few hours with Chanel and Geoff, before being taken over by extremely enthusiastic Morris dancers!), drinking, the discovery of the curry box, and poor Sair battling the flu and coming very close to losing her voice. Sickness aside, it was a brilliant weekend and the fun only continued as we headed back to Stanton for another week or so.
That's all for now…
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Súnas on Twitter
Just a short note to say that we now have a Twitter feed running, so have a look for us under 'Súnas'.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Sunas and Dougie MacLean
There's a nice video up on YouTube of us playing Travelling Man with Dougie MacLean at the Cygnet Folk Festival. This follows a lovely duet featuring Dougie and Sarah on Green Grow the Rashes O which we'll stick up as soon as we've had time to dig it out.
Dougie hadn't played the didge for nearly 11 years, but when he bought a new, tunable one from somewhere outside Eumundi, we couldn't resist the opportunity to ask him to play on Travelling Man.
http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=XqddGxQgrz4
Dougie hadn't played the didge for nearly 11 years, but when he bought a new, tunable one from somewhere outside Eumundi, we couldn't resist the opportunity to ask him to play on Travelling Man.
http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=XqddGxQgrz4
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Good Blogging Intentions . . .
From Sairey.
How dare we :)
So now we're back, and will post blogs about our incredible experience in Tassie in the next few days. Meanwhile, talk about getting back into the swing of things - we're got three gigs coming up this weekend! We're at the Irish Club on Friday 23rd, Harrigan's Drift Inn at Calypso Bay on Saturday 24th and at Moora Park at Shorncliffe on Monday afternoon for the Australia Day celebrations. Since it's been a while between drinks we'd love to see some friendly faces, please pop by and say hello!
2009 has started off looking like an extraordinarily busy year for Sunas. We'll be travelling quite a bit in the coming months, to Port Fairy, Melbourne, Canberra, Mackay, hopefully back to Tassie in July and a potential international tour in late Sept/early Oct. Bridget & I have our work cut out for us - bring it on, we say :) Watch this space on our future whereabouts!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Woodford The Mythical Last Day (Paul)
The Fire Event was just wonderful. There was a bit of a worry as it finally started raining during the afternoon, but by the time the infectious plonkety beats of Jambezi had started up, it had eased off to a fine drizzle. What didn’t ease up though, was the amazing electrical storm, and during the concert great fingers of lightning would rake across the sky, almost as if on cue. The river of fire, made up of hundreds if not thousands of small paper lanterns with candles inside, flowed down the natural slope of the amphitheatre to where the giant puppets played out their mummeries of a young girl’s imagination. The music was wonderful, from the choir-fed version of This Love will Carry led by Dougie, to Nancy & James Fagan (and Nancy’s reading) and the chaos of the Trans-Balkan Express. It was grand. The best one I’ve seen. Kudos to Nicole Murray from Cloudstreet how put together the music!
Later on, there was a very special session inside the Committee Bar. It was an eclectic mix, not just the standard belting out of Celtic tunes. Dougie & Jennifer, Liz Frencham (who taught me the chords to a truly beautiful song that she has gracefully offered to us), Johnstone and Andy from Auld Grey Whistle, the amazing JP on fiddle, my fellow Súnas chums, John & Nicole… the list goes on. The difference here was he promised that we’d also do songs and other things (something which doesn’t happen too often in the Guinness Tent, mainly due to the noise of the surrounding venues). It was a smashing evening, even if there wasn’t any cider.
The extra was really interesting too, as we didn’t have much of an idea what we were doing. A small stage was set up in front of the lake by the Duck, and we basically played a lantern parade down to the water, then a whole bunch of dancing fire people who thanked the volunteers with flaming letters. It was a great privilege to do this, as without these people Woodford wouldn’t exist. From the staffer in the Green Room who gave me a packet of tissues from her own bag when she saw me struggling with hay fever one evening while blogging, to the always-happy Kyle who helped us find a plum camping spot, thank you so much from all of us. You’re what makes this festival so smooth and effortless for difficult muso-types like us :)
Of course it pissed with rain the next morning while we were packing up, but we didn’t mind as it just gave us an excuse to stay longer!
We have three days now until we leave for Tasmania and the Cygnet Festival, where we will once again catch up with Dougie. We talked about doing a song together, so that’ll be just amazing. It’ll also be grand to catch up with Ethereal after a couple of years, JP the fiddler and our good mate Roz Pappalardo who’s performing with her ‘other’ band, Women in Docs. I’m hoping she’s brought that awesome Fender Jaguar down with her…
Then we have a Masterclass on Songwriting and Arranging to give. This is a whole day thing, and we’re really excited as it’s a whole new direction for us. Personally, I think we’re going to confuse the arse out of 15 poor folk, but hey, it’ll be fun! Then there’s our usual Thursday night gig at the New Sydney Hotel, and a wee performance at the Lark Distillery, which is practically our home away from home. I’ve just run out of whiskey too!
And let’s not forget the pies and buns of Jackman and McRoss.
But most of all, we’ll be catching up with our dear friend and Súnas fifth member, Helen.
We love Tasmania.
Good times ahead. Oh yes.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Woodford Final Day (Paul)
I hate the last day. Even with the fire event and another gig at the Duck,
it's still the last day.
it's still the last day.
Except this time it isn't. We've once again received a call from Bill's
Donger, asking if we'd like to play at the farewell ceremony. Now we didn't
even know there was a farewell ceremony. Apparently, on the day after the
last public day, there's a dinner and a small lantern ceremony to thank the
volunteers. To the Woodford organisers, this is a big deal. There are over
1300 volunteers that make this place run smoothly. That's an awful lot of
people. So of course, we said yes (we don't usually leave until well into
the day after anyway, so spending another night would be no trouble at all).
We're not sure what we're doing at the moment, but like most things here,
it'll seamlessly fall into place nearer the time.
It's interesting to see how the festival grows as the days go by. Here's a
wee example: People start fresh, in their own clothes, but towards the end,
everyone is in Thai fisherman pants and a tie-dyed shirt. I often wonder how
long the goodwill would last. It is really a different place, or would the
usual human bickering, pre-justice and ignorance start to reassert
themselves after a week, two weeks, a month? Actually, I don't think I
really want to find out. I'd rather live with what we have here.
Yesterday I almost started an international incident as I nearly caused
Dougie McLean to be hit by a bus. We found ourselves walking back to the
Green Room together, talking about guitars. Dougie knows of Davy Stuart, the
Scotsman that built my guitar, and was curious about it, so we'd stopped in
the middle of the road to pull the instruments out and have a comparative
strum (I've been in love with Moon guitars for ages, but am more than happy
with mine). Needless to say, we were both off in our own worlds, and barely
heard the bus...
The duck gig was great. The sound was a little dicey up on stage, but the
front of house was ok we were told. For our last Woodford gig, we usually
play the stuff we really enjoy, so we threw in a few cover songs, the fast
tunes etc. Yesterday's gig had been just incredibly hot. I'd arrived and
straight away seen the huge fan at stage left (where I play) but alas it had
to be turned off as according to Sarah: "It makes my hair stick to my lip
gloss." And they call me precious! This time though, she had her hair up, so
I got to play within a vortex of hot air, which was nicer than just
stillness which drives me a little crazy. The gig today was the first time
I'd actually had my guitar feel hot, I mean really hot. The wood of the neck
felt like it had been in an oven. The tuning stayed wonderfully stable
though, a testament to Davy Stuart's genius as a luthier. Actually, thinking
back through the whole festival, the hardest thing for me as a guitarist has
been that having a damp scarf around my neck has meant that my fingers, and
my playing callouses, have been soft so playing has been a bit
uncomfortable. Still, that's nothing compared to last year, where I remember
seeing the water beading off my guitar.
Weather: Hot, steamy, crystal blue skies
Doughnuts eaten: 2
THE BARS ARE OUT OF CIDER!!
Pairs of pants bought: 2
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Woodford Day...Something by Paul
This morning we mooched at the quiet and shady Committee Bar with Jigzag’s Liz Frencham, John Thompson and Nicole Murray from Cloudstreet (and this year Nicole is musical director for the fire event, and we can’t wait to see what she does!), Dougie (who was very much the worse for wear after a 5am session finish and many Guinnesses) and the indescribably erudite Sandy McCutcheon. It was a fantastic, funny, eclectic discussion, most of which I dare not repeat here, but let me just say I’ll never listen to a sax solo, or watch Bindi Irwin on TV in quite the same way again. Sadly, in some fit of rabid gesticulation, I managed to marinate myself in the better part of a pint of the Black Nectar, much to the amusement of all. For the first few moments it was actually quite refreshing, but then the stickiness hit. Still, I thought about walking around sucking on my shirt for the rest of the day, but alas had to go shower when I started to ming like an Irishman's favourite felt drinking hat.
The gigs have gone just wonderfully.
It’s always difficult to know just what to play, as the audience’s tastes seem to vary with the time of day, the temperature, who else is on etc. Today, we decided to do a set of just original material, mostly songs and the tunes the girls have written. After the gig in the chai tent with no fans, blazing heat and Sarah getting a mild case of heat stroke afterwards, we wanted to take things a little easier. Of course it was the usual different story when we were up there (we just can’t help ourselves it seems). Everyone seems a little mellower today, so we finished up with the trad a cappella song, The Yorkshire Couple, which we don’t often do. It was great to hear all the singing and laughing. Best comment afterwards was someone telling us that Sarah’s new song, Drink Up Me Boys, had made him cry. In a good way, of course.
The heat is still incredible, though not as relentless as a few years about where it topped 40 degrees every day. This year, it’s more the humidity. I’m only surviving because I soak my Krama (A Cambodian Khmer scarf giving to me for Christmas by my friend Kevin) in ice water then drape it over my neck. And to think, on the first day, people would ask ‘why are you wearing a scarf, numpty?” Hahah. Dust is pretty bad though, and I can kind of feel it beginning to lodge in my nose and sinuses. Good job I’m not a singer!
We've been taking so many photos (most of them too rude and terrible for general consumption), but I'll wait until I'm back on my iMac at home before I post them. There are already some up on Facebook though. Use 'Paul Brandon', 'Sarah Calderwood' & 'Bridget Masters' to search the tags (Mannie doesn't have a Facebook account as he thinks it's the work of the divil) and hopefully, I'll collect the whole lot on Picasa really soon.
Right, more icey Krama goodness, more doughnuts, more Guinness...
Cold Showers today: 3
Byron Bay Doughnuts: 1
Langos (Hungarian fried snap bread with gulash): 1
Waking Time: 5am (Mean bin men!)
Fallen over a guy rope: 0 (!)
Spilled Guinnesses: 1
Clean underwear Left: 1 Pair
The gigs have gone just wonderfully.
It’s always difficult to know just what to play, as the audience’s tastes seem to vary with the time of day, the temperature, who else is on etc. Today, we decided to do a set of just original material, mostly songs and the tunes the girls have written. After the gig in the chai tent with no fans, blazing heat and Sarah getting a mild case of heat stroke afterwards, we wanted to take things a little easier. Of course it was the usual different story when we were up there (we just can’t help ourselves it seems). Everyone seems a little mellower today, so we finished up with the trad a cappella song, The Yorkshire Couple, which we don’t often do. It was great to hear all the singing and laughing. Best comment afterwards was someone telling us that Sarah’s new song, Drink Up Me Boys, had made him cry. In a good way, of course.
The heat is still incredible, though not as relentless as a few years about where it topped 40 degrees every day. This year, it’s more the humidity. I’m only surviving because I soak my Krama (A Cambodian Khmer scarf giving to me for Christmas by my friend Kevin) in ice water then drape it over my neck. And to think, on the first day, people would ask ‘why are you wearing a scarf, numpty?” Hahah. Dust is pretty bad though, and I can kind of feel it beginning to lodge in my nose and sinuses. Good job I’m not a singer!
We've been taking so many photos (most of them too rude and terrible for general consumption), but I'll wait until I'm back on my iMac at home before I post them. There are already some up on Facebook though. Use 'Paul Brandon', 'Sarah Calderwood' & 'Bridget Masters' to search the tags (Mannie doesn't have a Facebook account as he thinks it's the work of the divil) and hopefully, I'll collect the whole lot on Picasa really soon.
Right, more icey Krama goodness, more doughnuts, more Guinness...
Cold Showers today: 3
Byron Bay Doughnuts: 1
Langos (Hungarian fried snap bread with gulash): 1
Waking Time: 5am (Mean bin men!)
Fallen over a guy rope: 0 (!)
Spilled Guinnesses: 1
Clean underwear Left: 1 Pair
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Woodford Day Dunno (Paul)
Damn the gypsies make good coffee.
It's just after midnight on I think Tuesday, although I guess it's now technically Wednesday. I'm really not sure anymore. It only matters when it comes to remembering gigs anyway. You know where you are in the program because the previous day's page is dusty, tattered and most likely has coffee, kofka balls and Byron Bay Doughnut stains on it. I'm in the wonderfully-named Green Room, and it's just occurred to me that perhaps Green Rooms are thus named because they're places of peace and solace, away from the madness that surrounds. People are asleep on the giant bed pallets, catching a few zeds under the cool of the huge fans in here. It's a nice place to sit, recharge (both body and iPhone) and people watch. These blogs take me ages to write, not because I'm ogling famous types, but simply because I get sidetracked by the interesting people. There are ten thousand stories at this festival, and I want to write about them all.
But I'm here to write about ours.
I'm really proud of that segue!
So today, I met Dougie MacLean.
I'm not going to go into details about how I feel about his music; everyone in the band has been influenced by him in a very personal way, but I'll just mention that seeing Dougie perform live has been pretty much at the top of my musical to-do list for well, over twenty years. And to see him perform then get to chat and play with him…
As a performer, he is just sublime. Music, humour, and and amazing self-deprecating sense of self that has audiences sitting mesmerised. When he struck up those wonderful first chords of 'Not Lie Down' (which I've been picking at soundchecks but never performing for years), I was lost.
When you meet people who have had a profound effect on you (and I'm talking about meeting them here on professional level rather than as a fan, as we're all here to perform at the festival) it can go many different ways, but we all kind of knew that he'd be great. But that initial moment when you strike up conversation is always tricky. It's very easy, particularly with someone held in such esteem as Dougie, to make a complete arse out of one's self, but he's a wonderfully warm and at-ease character so all went well. We're going to be playing again at the Cygnet Festival next week, along with Dougie so we wanted to make sure we got off on a good foot! Some stonking tunes and geeky guitar talk was a great start! Now I have to work on the idea of playing something together at Cygnet. The idea has been floated (and very well received). Watch this space...
It's just after midnight on I think Tuesday, although I guess it's now technically Wednesday. I'm really not sure anymore. It only matters when it comes to remembering gigs anyway. You know where you are in the program because the previous day's page is dusty, tattered and most likely has coffee, kofka balls and Byron Bay Doughnut stains on it. I'm in the wonderfully-named Green Room, and it's just occurred to me that perhaps Green Rooms are thus named because they're places of peace and solace, away from the madness that surrounds. People are asleep on the giant bed pallets, catching a few zeds under the cool of the huge fans in here. It's a nice place to sit, recharge (both body and iPhone) and people watch. These blogs take me ages to write, not because I'm ogling famous types, but simply because I get sidetracked by the interesting people. There are ten thousand stories at this festival, and I want to write about them all.
But I'm here to write about ours.
I'm really proud of that segue!
So today, I met Dougie MacLean.
I'm not going to go into details about how I feel about his music; everyone in the band has been influenced by him in a very personal way, but I'll just mention that seeing Dougie perform live has been pretty much at the top of my musical to-do list for well, over twenty years. And to see him perform then get to chat and play with him…
As a performer, he is just sublime. Music, humour, and and amazing self-deprecating sense of self that has audiences sitting mesmerised. When he struck up those wonderful first chords of 'Not Lie Down' (which I've been picking at soundchecks but never performing for years), I was lost.
When you meet people who have had a profound effect on you (and I'm talking about meeting them here on professional level rather than as a fan, as we're all here to perform at the festival) it can go many different ways, but we all kind of knew that he'd be great. But that initial moment when you strike up conversation is always tricky. It's very easy, particularly with someone held in such esteem as Dougie, to make a complete arse out of one's self, but he's a wonderfully warm and at-ease character so all went well. We're going to be playing again at the Cygnet Festival next week, along with Dougie so we wanted to make sure we got off on a good foot! Some stonking tunes and geeky guitar talk was a great start! Now I have to work on the idea of playing something together at Cygnet. The idea has been floated (and very well received). Watch this space...
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