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
1 comment:
I was one of the rain dancers!!! Such good music and great times. Loved the last song with Jigzag. Sara you should sing more songs like that!! You guys are the best!
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