It’s not.
Well, not quite, anyway. The performing part is about 20% of the package you see in front of you. The rest is a massive flurry of action behind the scenes: networking, rehearsing, travelling to and from gigs, setting up and packing down from gigs, recording, correspondence via email & phone, promotion, festivals, planning and organising.
To a musician, the performance side is simply the best part of being in a band. To a manager, that sweet moment after booking a nice gig is the best part. When you do both like I do, these two elements combined are moments of pure and utter elation.
In mid-February I received a call from former Súnas member and good friend Brendan who asked if we would be interested in playing a nice gig on Sat 13th March for the upcoming St Patrick’s Day celebrations. I said of course, where’s the gig?
He replied, ‘Russia.’ As you do (my hands started to shake here)! I have to say big thanks to Brendan for thinking of us for this gig, because if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be writing this blog for starters. From there, it was three weeks of the most incredible amount of stress that I have ever experienced in my life (and this was even before we had boarded the plane!), but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Here’s how our amazing gig came about:
We were asked to submit an email to an entertainment agency, and the email was to list who we are, our sound, hi-res pics, pricing and video. Bear in mind, all we knew was that the gig was in Russia (no idea where), it was for one night and if we were successful we’d be flown there & back with all expenses paid. Well we in Súnas don’t do anything by halves. Paul & I worked for NINE HOURS to get this email together – the majority of it was a crash course in learning how to cut the footage taken from our concert at Perthshire Amber last October. Once the email was satisfactory to our critical eyes we finally sent it off in the wee hours of 17th Feb (something along the lines of 2am) and then played the waiting game.
It was five long days before we heard anything. Because I was listed as the primary contact, poor Mannie, Bridge & Paul were on tenterhooks in daily contact with me on the off chance that I had heard something. My most used expression during that period was, ‘As soon as I hear anything I’ll let you know’.
On Sunday 21st I was contacted by a man named Alan who said that it ‘looked as though’ his clients liked us and would ‘probably’ go ahead with us.
That wasn’t a yes in my book! I updated the others, but we still waited. More phone calls flowed between Alan & I regarding visa types and contracts etc, but I couldn’t do anything because we still hadn’t received the all clear! I’m sure he was thoroughly irritated by my constant calls, but I wasn’t going to get my band’s hopes up on the word ‘probably’ (having said that however, Paul gathered everyone’s passports at Sunas HQ, just in case). Regardless of everything, I had a great feeling about this possible trip from the word go. And I bloody held onto it over the next week, let me tell you! Don’t tell me we can’t do it, tell me that it’s a problem and that we can get around it. Never take no for an answer.
After another week of tense waiting, we were given the Official Yes late on Friday 26th Feb. I received one more phone call from Alan telling me all about the gig: It was a private gig for an oil & gas company in a town called Yuhzno-Sakhalinsk in very far eastern Russia. So far eastern that it wasn’t even on the mainland, it is on Sakhalin Island located above Japan. We would be gone for five days in total, including our performance. Alan finished our call with: ‘You need to organise the visas pronto’. I had heard from a few people that Russian visas were a logistical nightmare, so I got straight onto the Russian Embassy website and brushed up on my knowledge. We had to get the visas sent to the embassy in Canberra by Wednesday 6pm at the absolute latest for them to be processed and returned before we flew out. However (of course), it wasn’t as easy as that. Firstly, which visa do we apply for? Business or tourist? My first inclination was tourist, since we were only performing one gig – but because we were performing a gig I then looked at the possibility of the much more complicated business visa. Oh help.
Cue my introduction on Monday 1st March to our absolute angel Svetlana, the company contact who spoke beautiful English tinged with a Russian accent – she sounded like someone straight out of a Bond movie. Svetlana told me we only needed to apply for a tourist visa, and could I email our scanned passports ASAP to book flights please?
Bugger. Our scanner had packed it in. So instead I called Mannie & that night we went straight to his work and scanned the passports (thanks Theo!) while he filled in & signed his visa form & gave me a lovely visa photo that made him look like an illegal immigrant. I then drove across town to Bridget’s place where she filled in her form & gave me a visa pic that was absolutely stunning – she’s so photogenic, not even a visa pic would look bad! Paul & I added our absolutely awful pics – he looks like he hasn’t slept for a year & I look like I’ve swallowed a lemon. I was organising our applications the next morning and feeling quite overwhelmed with the documents we needed when I stopped and looked at our visa photos laid side by side. It made me cack myself laughing!
So I sent out an All Points Bulletin to my bandies:
HAVE YOU SEEN THESE MUSICIANS
• known to be of the Celtic music equivalent
• Slightly hairy, but not smelly
• Will do anything for a pint
• Considered cuddly and extremely dangerous
• Have a penchant for banjos
• Also known by rather naff nicknames
SUBJECTS ARE KNOWN TO SPONTANEOUSLY BREAK INTO SONG OR TUNES. ENSURE YOU KEEP YOUR DISTANCE. IF YOU SEE ANY OF THESE HEATHENS, PLEASE CALL 1800-PATCHOULI.
Aren’t we a pretty bunch. After everything was organised I was speaking to Mannie's wife Annette and filling her in with all the details. The first thing she said was, 'Thank God you didn't send those awful passport photos with the visa applications!' Oops, sorry Annette :)
Lesson: When stressed, find something to laugh about. It lifted my spirits tremendously! There were times through it all when everyone around me was doubtful that it would go ahead, but I chose not to listen. If worst came to worst, it would still have been lovely just to have been asked.
I was then in almost hourly contact with Svetlana. There was so much paperwork we needed for the visa applications, such as booked flights, hotel reservations, hotel vouchers, official invitation to Russia from Svetlana’s company, official invite and details from the Russian travel agent, official ministerial stamped papers allowing us in the country …
Tuesday passed, Wednesday arrived. Svetlana had sent through everything except the Russian travel agent invitations & the official stamped ministerial invitation. We had until 6pm to get the applications in the post before I would panic and have to fly to Canberra in person to get everything done. I spoke very nervously to Svetlana that morning, and she said that it would come through, she would get it organised.
I arrived home from work at 3pm and Svetlana had emailed letting me know that we would receive the documents by 4:30pm that afternoon. I had two flute lessons to teach from 4-5pm, and as soon as my second student had left just after 5pm I raced to the computer, my heart in my mouth.
No email.
Paul already had that defeated look on his face. OhGodohGodohGod, please don’t let this be happening. So started my frantic international dialling to Svetlana, over 20 times which normally put me straight through every time, but Murphy’s Law, this time I was unlucky. I emailed her, knowing she was probably as stressed as I was, but hoping to receive something soon!
5:05pm. Nothing.
5:10pm. Nothing. I will an email to magically appear in my inbox.
5:15pm. Still nothing. I felt like a group of rubber bands stretched to breaking point.
At 5:20pm I sat back in my chair. I couldn’t believe it. For the first time in the past two insane weeks I actually doubted that we would be going Russia. I looked at Paul and tried desperately not to show on my face that the infamous Súnas optimist was firmly and completely pessimistic at that very moment.
5:25pm. An email from Svetlana marked urgent and containing two words (‘It’s done!’) and multiple attachments arrives in the inbox. I stare at it in complete shock and then scream at Paul, ‘IT’S HERE!!!’
5:30pm. Each application is printed and assembled in military precision. I am focused, I am in the zone. I am actually beyond obsessed, I am completely BAT-SHIT MENTAL.
5:35pm. We’re in the car, gunning it to the closest Express Post Box (literally only two minutes away, but we weren’t taking any chances). Paul is driving as though he’s in a rally and we’re in the lead.
5:40pm. I stand at the post box and post the now-very-thick application.
And then I burst into tears. I just could not believe it. It was gone, we could focus on being excited!
Everything went well until Friday morning. We had flown down to Hobart for the Fleadh Ceol and had just finished having a morning coffee (good sign) when my mobile rang. A lady with a thick Russian accent named Natasha (I kid you not!) was calling because there was a problem with Paul’s visa application.
I was gobsmacked, felt the familiar tightening in my stomach and prepared for the worst, only to be told that we had simply filled in the wrong form. If we filled in a specific one and faxed it to her straight away she would process Paul’s visa as long as we sent the original that day. So we called on the magnificent Alistair, publican of the New Sydney Hotel & host of the Fleadh Ceol, commandeered his computer & printer then set about filling the damn form in. It was a lot more detailed than mine, Bridget’s & Mannie’s! Luckily, there was an Australia Post next door to the pub & the form was faxed off before midday with no problems. I emailed Svetlana the details of what had happened, and we spent the remainder of the day getting ready for our gigs at the Fleadh.
Fate was surely smiling on us that day, because at 4pm Svetlana sent me a text telling me that she had spoken to the embassy in Canberra and that our visas had already been completed and sent in the mail!
There was just one other thing to say to my bandies: WE’RE GOING TO RUSSIA, BITCHES!
Needless to say, I was utterly elated
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