Well, what a week I’ve just had – I was up in Glasgow last weekend for Belle & Sebastian’s 2 nights at Kellingove Bandstand – met some lovely people who came all the way from the US and France for the gig. I spent the days hanging out at various independent music shops in the area, and came away with an unexpected addition to musical gear – a drum pad. I’ve been wanting to lay down some beatz with some drumz – don’t worry, I’m not going all “grime” on you – but I’m always thinking of ways by which I can add more layers to my “dronium” (the name I give to when I play piano, harmonium, shruti, melatron and guitar – all at the same time). To be fair, that’s largely at home at the moment – as it’s a bit much to rock up with all that clobber for a 30min support slot.
Directly after Glasgow, I was down in Plymouth with the day job. What do you cry about – you don’t make a living as a full-time musician? It might not surprise you that for a solo artist mining the seam of dark, uncanny, melancholic folk music, the wider pop industry has not been beating a path to my door – sub 1,000 follower musicians don’t get that treatment. Do you know that the musicians’ union reports the average salary for a full-time working musician is about 24k? So it’s more like a rags to rags story of overnight success that’s 40 years in the making. Anyway, both Glasgow and Plymouth were reached by Cross Country Trains. Those who use the ‘service’ will know what a delight that can be. Still, they were on time, and it was less tiring than taking Clementine, my bright orange ex-RAC campervan, up and down the country. Whilst I was in Plymouth, by chance, I got to see a film about Leanora Carrington.
I saw a recent documentary about her life, and this was a drama – mainly set in Mexico – but flashing backwards in time, to the days she spent in France and England. She rebelled from her nouveaux-riche parents who dreamed of her scaling the social ladder and being a debutant, and instead pursued a life in art, a relationship with Max Ernst, and held her own amongst the somewhat patronising surrealist movement in Paris. Despite the revolutionary ideas, they had decidely old fashioned ideas about women, as the enfant-girl muse, there to inspire male artists with the gaze, rather than women being artists in their own right. She’s an utterly fascinating and beguiling artist – and fiercely iconoclastic and her own woman. The film is more of a biopic drama called “Leonora in the Morning Light”. Directed by Thor Klein and Lena Vurma, the film stars Olivia Vinall as the fierce, rule-defying Carrington. I’ve always been fascinated by those surrealists who blur the world of dreams & reality – Carrington brings her own unique take on things from her position of a woman on the outside, excluded by family and fellow artists – from the artist she clearly is.
The Film:
The Documentary
I had one day back in Derbyshire when I went up to Saltburn – that’s another story before heading up to Horncliffe near Berwick-Upon-Tweed, right on the cusp of the England/Scottish border. There’s a bridge there called “Chain Bridge” where, literally halfway across the bridge, you can jump and be in Scotland and jump again and be in England, or if it suits you, have a foot in both countries.
I was in Horncliffe for their music and beer festival. I put it that way round because rather than being a loud, beery beer festival with music in the background, this audience was attentive and listening. I played two sets on the Saturday & Sunday – and I got the gig by being spotted by Jane & Nick at an open-mic at last year’s Saltburn Folk Festival. It just goes to show that serendipity can find you. Thus far, I’ve not really “hit” the festivals – to be honest, I’m not sure I have the “name recognition” to make that effort worthwhile – so I’ve been concentrating on gigs, support slots, recording, and hopefully getting reviews and radio play, as a way of getting my music out there. Although I know your supposed to post to social media at least 300 times a day about the same song – I honestly don’t have the stomach or heart or time for that kind of promotion (that’s not a criticism of others by the way, it’s just not for me) This year I organised my own “tour” called the “gig-a-holiday” and I have to say I really enjoyed being “out on the road” – which seems awfully cheesy and Jack Kerouac of me. Without false modesty, I’m kind of amazed that people like my music – it’s totally unexpected – and still can’t really get my head around the idea that people would want to sit and listen to my cattawalling. I’m not running myself down – okay, maybe a little bit – but if you come to performing and writing songs later in life, it’s quite a thing to experience. Anyway, I hope Horncliffe will have me back next year – I met some lovely people, who were so kind, so welcoming, and so friendly.
Later this week I will be off to Ireland to spend time on the Henry Girls music residential – and then off Warwick & Saltburn Folk Festivals – if you see me – please say hello :-_