The Joy Of The Unexpected

When I left my lecturing job I imagined it being a real struggle to leave behind the work routine, with several months of floundering around trying to establish something different in life. But I responded spontaneously to a request posted on F*cebook for an illustrator for a primary school children's book on sustainable clothing, and started working on that almost straight away. It's still got a way to go: I'm doing a lot of re-drawing partly in response to comments from the author, and also partly because I want to feel proud of the collaboration myself. It's due to be finished in December, and the project has taught me a lot about pacing my work as an illustrator, and when to start again when a drawing isn't working (amongst other things). It's so similar to making music: I've rejected whole tracks, and even whole songs, when they are travelling in the wrong direction.

I enrolled on a life-drawing class to feed my observation skills, and I've thoroughly enjoyed the challenges of that. I'd like to do more, because I've become a real fan of adult education. Before Covid I spent three years of learning to play the drum kit not because I wanted to drum in a band, but because I wanted to hang out with Shanne Bradley, who suggested it. I carried on because I realised the drummer's secret: drumming makes you feel great. It's therapeutic both physically and mentally. 

People think that's because you're whacking the shit out of the drums, but actually if you're a good drummer you get the sound and the beat out of the skins because you control the 'bounce' and co-ordinate what your four limbs are doing. This leaves no room in your brain for worrying thoughts. Even two hours of drumming clears your head, and takes all the tension out of your upper body.

Miraculously, even though I can't read normal music, I can read drum scores. We were taught from the beginning to link the sound to the dots, and this is probably how it happened. I'm not sure if I could do it without the score, and that's the conun-drum (!).

Pupils came and went in the classes; one of the best terms was the one where the whole class was female. Being an evening class, there were lots of different standards, cultures and ages. The teacher suggested that we should work towards a concert, and we started to think about repertoire. Almost as a joke, I suggested Paranoid by Black Sabbath, and the teacher found it on Youtube. Instantly the whole class perked up, and even the beginnerest drummer (a young Spanish woman), started playing along with the 'pah-pah-PAH' part of the rhythm. The joy of it! You don't have to be a 1970s Brummie metal fan to know that Paranoid's a good song. At the show, a line of four female drummers joyously thrashed their way through it, to appreciative applause from our friends and family.

Life throws up moments when you think things like 'I could never in a million years have imagined that I'd be sitting drumming to a Black Sabbath song with four other women!'. Three unbelievables in one sentence.

This digression into unexpected drum moments isn't too much of a digression: yesterday I was accepted for an artist-in-residence post. Again it came from F*cebook, that often deservedly-maligned social media site. As soon as I saw the advertisement, I knew exactly what I would do if I was given the opportunity, and now that I have (starting in January), it's made me so excited that my creative brain has gone into overdrive. I'll be posting what I've done, but yet again it's an unbelievable moment.

So I have switched track from being and educator and musician to being a musician and artist. There is still an animation project-in-waiting, too. 

I could spend a lot of thought dwelling on some terrible things that have happened to me, and some terrible people I've known. But this is the thing: if you fill your life with as much curiosity and creativity as possible, those dark things ebb away into insignificance and can't torture you any more. If you can fill your life with invention whether art, music or writing, you stand a chance of changing your mental environment from a threat to a celebration. I'm not naive enough to think that if we were at war or under threat from life-changing natural disasters, this approach would have any power. I know we don't live in The Sound of Music where we can sing My Favourite Things and suddenly the sun will shine every day and there will be world peace; we can't just Turn That Frown Upside Down. But I have seen what being creative can do for people, and how empowering it can be. This is not just for me personally, but also from the experience of 30 years of teaching, running workshops and listening to people speak about their own expressions of themselves through what they do in the wonderful worlds of art and music.

The bottom line is: any opportunity you have to try something new in these worlds of creative expression is always worth the challenge, whether as a producer or as an audience. More often than not it's worth doing just for the process, and just for the adventure. The sense of agency is quite astonishing.

End of early morning ramble!

Life Drawing

I have been attending life drawing classes, which have been really enjoyable.

Leicester and Middlewich

There could not have been two more different gigs, but both equally fun and both equally adventurous.

We had a wander around Leicester before the gig, and I bought almost the last two-bowls-for-one-fifty satsumas and apples at the market.

Meanwhile, at the Soundhouse, multiple band members were arriving. Ruth Miller was there already, and there was an air of excitement about the venue. The sound engineer had an apprentice (first time I've seen that for a long time), which reflected the whole vibe of the night: open, friendly and enabling. 

The first band on was Velvet Crisis, who swapped vocalists and instrumentalists throughout their set. Their songs were great, and contrary to what might be expected from a band so new, extremely well played. Their drummer, who I think was maybe the least experienced, had only been playing since January this year, but you couldn't tell. The between-songs talk was very funny, and the joyful energy emanating from the stage was palpable. All of the singers could sing extremely well, and the deliberate throwing out of standardised song formats served the band well too. I watched with Katie and Kevin from The Lovely Basement: I couldn't believe it when they walked in, but Katie was in Leicester for a conference and they came along and had  great time.

From the stage I could see that the audience ratio was more than 50% women, which is really unusual for a gig that I play these days. I think older single women are reluctant to go out to gigs under normal circumstances, and the experience of playing to women who I knew would understand where my lyrics come from was an unusual pleasure. I had tweaked my set to include a sing-along version of Women of the World, and also The Song of the Unsung Heroine, which both seemed really appropriate. It can be challenging to play a solo set after a lively band, but the audience seemed happy, so I was too.

The Verinos were the headliners, and they burst into song with the same exciting energy as Velvet Crisis. Whereas Velvet Crisis almost had a Cramps vibe to some of their songs, The Verinos, despite their almost punky sound, definitely had a nod in the direction of the 1960s girl groups in their songs, probably due to the twin lead vocals. Again, this was a really fun set, especially when all the women in the audience were invited on to the set to sing the song 'Don't You Wish You Were In The Band Tonight'. What catchy songs and what a great sound! Real garage band keyboards, strong vocals and memorable melodies. 

It was a superlative night- and to crown it all, the next morning a bunch of us had breakfast at the Holiday Inn. All you can eat! Yum! Thank you, Ruth, for inviting me to join you all for such a warm-hearted evening. The craic was as good as the gig! If the other eight older-female bands you've encouraged to get together for the Unglamorous Music project are as good as Velvet Crisis, you'll have revived the entire Leicester music scene in one fell swoop. Read more about it all here: https://theverinos.uk

And then it was off round the Leicester ring road and on to Middlewich. This was an entirely different set up: the musician Gareth Williams has started putting music on at the King's Lock pub, just next to the canal. It's a lovely location, and would be quite spooky if it wasn't for the jolly excellent chip shop across the road. Gareth played a gently witty set of songs, culminating in The Wine O'Clock Willy Waver, a person that we all recognise unless it's us! Chris Tavener followed with a set of hilariously comedic songs, my favourite of which was the one about Generation Z-ers criticism of old (er) people, which I rather wanted the Offsprogs to hear. I was last on, and it's the first time for ages that I've played to a dog, who seemed to quite enjoy it, especially Beachwalk. Kevin and Linda came along and it was lovely to see them again- first time since lockdown, and a proper fan with records to sign. Gareth seemed delighted with the evening, and there was a definite warm and happy vibe in the pub by the time we'd all finished.

Ah Travelodge! Expect nothing and get less! At least the bed was comfortable and the room was warm.

Back at home now, looking through photographs and being bloody glad that live music is back on the agenda, and indeed thriving. We have music and we have audiences: for a weekend I was able to forget the horrors of the moment and exist in music-world, which is surely a million times better than real life, yes it is!

Interview And Live Performance for Phoenix FM

 

In My Own Words

 

Phoenix Radio Link

Here's the link to Michelle Ward's Phoenix Radio show from Tuesday!

https://www.phoenixfm.com/2022/11/11/helen-mccookerybook-playing-live-phoenix-fm/?fbclid=IwAR1jfG61u_8Q-jfezroiO0Vq8-6yB0LFcxyocTZDmVfrex9XfwBjWwKmdQk

Betsey Trotwood Gig Postponed

Alas, the lurgy got one of us and the pop-up gig at The Betsey Trotwood has been postponed to Wednesday 25th January. Tickets will be valid for that date, or refunded.

Interview At Phoenix FM

So I set off early, because I knew that there might be Climate Justice demos on the M25, and I was right. I fully support them, because I know what they are doing works. I did still want to try to get to Essex though. The interview time (11.15) was approaching, and I managed to get my friend to phone the station; by a miracle, Michelle Ward actually answered the phone, and said that if I could get there by 12.30 the interview could go ahead.

In a very sticky double traffic jam (well done, Government, for eradicating hard shoulders on the M25 so emergency vehicles can't get through) on both sides of the motorway, we got diverted off into Essex towns which bore the brunt of the HGVs shuddering through the streets. It took two and a half hours to do a 45-minute journey.

The Satnav couldn't understand why I wasn't obeying it's pleas to redirect me back on to the motorway. I followed a map in my head and drove through Epping Forest in the opposite direction to Margaret Thatcher's instructions (that's the Satnav voice). The Essex villages got smaller, and the roads got windier, more wooded and more flooded. It was all rather beautiful, actually. I saw lots of quirky ancient clapboard houses, small and large. I splashed through long puddles on tiny twisted roads and eventually, with a note of surprise, Margaret told me 'You have reached your destination'.

Michelle made me a cup of tea, and I had a quick soundcheck. Her fellow presenter Bob came to hang out, and we had a good chat. She's been playing Beachwalk after hearing it on Neil March's Trustthedoc show, so I played that and All I want Is The Sun To Shine For You. What could be a better thing to do on a sunny autumn Tuesday? Michelle's a songwriter too, and we had plenty to share with each other about that.

Apart from driving down a mega-flooded road which left a satisfyingly splashy wake behind me, the journey home was effortless. As I said to Michelle, The Musician Always Gets To The Gig.

I will post the link to the show as soon as I have it.

Pop-Up Chefs at The Betsey Trotwood Next Wednesday

Thin pork sausage, peas and beans, spaghetti, rice and tangerines; lumpy custard, crisp French fries, these are foods I idolise. Food we eat to keep us going, food we eat to make us strong: in our bellies we are stowing, eating, eating, all day long.

https://www.wegottickets.com/event/556420

New Career: Illustrator

Here we go: more 27 drawings to finish before Christmas: a lovely children's book about sustainability in clothing. In between gigging, of course.

Hate Speech: A Gentle Rant

I left my University job because the management were tolerating hate speech from students; they were prioritising the income from students fees, their business, above the wellbeing of their staff, their resource.

The self-congratulatory things that the University was patting it's own back about, were not happening in the lecture theatres and performance and recording studios.

The final straw for me was witnessing hate speech happening to two staff consecutively, whom I had encouraged to work there. I felt responsible. I looked at the staff profile of the courses I was contributing to, and tried to address an imbalance that I saw there. 

The problem is that institutional misogyny and racism have to be acknowledged before it is addressed, and there was no willingness to even acknowledge what was happening. I took the view that if you work for an institutionally racist and misogynist organisation, you are condoning what is going on simply by being there.

I was fortunate in that I have a very basic income now from a part-time pension that I can survive on before my state pension kicks in. I felt that I could take the risk and go; I understand that having principles comes at a price, and that I can afford this price where others can't.

I wonder if people even realise that they are using hate speech? I felt very strongly that with so many white male staff, bad behaviour from male students needed to be addressed by them, and not by women or staff who were from diverse cultural backgrounds and who were experiencing this aggression. We always come across as mummies or aunties or resentful moaners when it comes from us. Learn to be allies, adult men. This is not our fight, it's yours!

Like most people, I use social media, and unfortunately see a lot of hate speech there too. I see 'hate-speech-back': one person says something controversial and nasty, and the response is basically lobbing the unpleasant ball back over the net with just as much offensive content. But we have 'block' buttons and 'unfriend' facilities, don't we? My experiences over the past few months have made me realise that hate-speakers breed more hate-speakers, and create a victory for the proliferation of rage on the internet which is neither productive nor positive. I am learning to walk away and think before I respond to provocation, and will have to work harder at not sharing unpleasantness. 

That can be my New Year's Resolution, starting now.

Man Playing Cello On Train

This man was playing cello in the corridor between carriages on the Paddington to Penzance train on Friday. I asked him if I could take a photo. Here he is waiting for people to get off at Totnes.

Temporarily Back From My Travels

I was going to turn in with the current crappy detective novel, but a conversation with Lisa from The Flatmates reminded me that this blog is the closest thing that I have to a diary. My living room is cosy at the moment- there's a gale blowing into it from somewhere but I'm dressed for the Arctic so writing about the weekend wins over retiring to bed with a paperback.

Our gig in Falmouth was cancelled due to the promoter being ill- but I'd already bought a train ticket and the rail strike on Saturday was due to go ahead, so I decided to travel to the west country a day earlier and just wait for the Dartington gig. I was lucky enough to find a cheap night at Dartington Hall, and didn't realise till I got there how fortunate that was. It's a huge complex of art studios, accommodation, a café and even a pub, centred around the huge mediaeval hall where classical music concerts are held. There are conference rooms too, and lovely gardens and a riverside walk with deer. I managed the lovely gardens, which at this time of year were a sensory delight of autumnal smells and decaying vegetation, with rather an unfortunate soundtrack of braying women who seemed to have been imported wholesale from the posher parts of London. Most of the time they were avoidable, but it's odd how many people think that everybody wants to hear what they have to say. I slipped down some stone stairs under a tree, and soon I could only hear faint hoots in the distance.

It's such an odd place: the furniture is comfortingly shabby but it's all just been repainted in very smart colours. The lock whizzed out of the toiled door and clattered on the floor, and there was no hairdryer and no TV, but very posh toiletries. There's a cinema, which more than makes up for the lack of TVs. I watched The Banshees of Incherin, which was an entirely appropriate film for the setting, before heading back to my room and having a solo rehearsal for the following night. I'd describe it as a retreat. I don't think I've ever had such a nice breakfast. There were even roasted potatoes.

I checked out and walked into Totnes under faint drizzle which became heavier as the day drew on and eventually soaked me to the skin without me realising it. Totnes has to have the best charity shops of any town ever. I could have filled an articulated lorry and driven it home, but I restrained myself to a jacket and a t-shirt, and went for a slap up lunch of pie, cabbage and chips. I spent the afternoon trying to get dry in the Dartington Hall café, before being picked up by the very swanky tour bus that Rocker had hired for The Flatmates tour.

It was so nice to see them again! We drove to Dartington, not far, and set up in The New Lion Brewery. It's one of those venues that reminds me of being young- there's a definite Youth Club feel to it. I played first, and struggled with the chills of being so wet. I was thankful to the audience for being so supportive and singing The Sea with me for Noel, my foster Cousin Ted's husband, who died of dementia earlier this year. I think at the end of the gig we all realised we sounded better out front than we did on stage.

The Phil Wilson Combo includes members of The June Brides, who certainly haven't lost the ability to write good songs. They were a well-rehearsed trio and were the perfect jam in the sandwich between my set and The Flatmates.

As always, The Flatmates pulled it out of the bag. Lisa and Matt are energy bombs, and flanked by Rocker on keyboards and Martin on guitar and driven by Jamie on drums, the upped the positive vibes and played a storming set of short and sweet songs.

Afterwards there was a bit of time to chat to people. A woman in the audience told me that she works with refugees and I was glad to have sung the song. I'd almost put it away in the cupboard for later, but the horrible toxicity of the refugee debate in the UK at the moment means that it hasn't lost its meaning. And who would have thought So Long, Elon would revive itself? Elon Musk is the awful gift that keeps on giving. Oh deary me.

We stayed in a beautiful old house that appeared to have thousands of rooms. At last I could dry out. My fingers during the gig when I was playing had felt like metal skewers that wouldn't bend, and I resolved to have warm hands at all costs the next day.

So off we drove to Oxford with a short stop on the way. We talked about horses, donkeys and guitars: just normal band talk, really. The venue, Port Mahon, transformed itself as the afternoon progressed to evening and the promoter Aidan turned up with tubs of chilli and rice. The sound engineer Beth was lovely and had a simple mixing desk; the night before had been rather challenging to mix, I think. 

The first on was Emma Hunter, who creates soundscapes with looped vocals, guitar and drums. Her music is dramatic and atmospheric and was a perfect start to the evening. Next up was Moogieman and the Masochists, who even with a missing member had a rally intriguing sound driven by vintage synths, sax, bass and guitar, plus almost sprachgesang vocals. I really loved their stuff. 

For some (very nice) reason, a small and enthusiastic clutch of Chefs fans turned up independently at this gig. They didn't know each other and only said hello just before I went on, but I was charmed by this and because I'd kept my fingers warm (gloves and double jumpers), this was a much more fluid gig to play and I felt really at home on the stage and in the room, which always feels good.

Bang! The Flatmates were off again! Immediately the energy levels in the room rose, the beer slopped on the floor and they launched into their set.

I only saw three songs because I had to leave to catch the bus back to London, which luckily left from just outside the venue. I could still hear them while I was waiting, and I sent them good vibes from the bus stop for the rest of their tour.

So four buses later (one homeless man wanting money, one young guitarist wanting to chat music, one small Romanian gang at the bus stop trying to cadge cigarettes), I was back home in my bed. Big luv to the bus driver who let me travel back from Oxford despite the fact that I hadn't paid enough for my ticket.

My Doctor Martins were still a bit wet, but they didn't win: I did, because a potentially challenging weekend turned put to be a great one. Long live live music! We play for you, we love it, you come to see us play and we hope you love it too. Thanks to Rocker and the gang for a lot of fun and goodwill!

Tour Bus

 

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