It was a new idea, but not a radical one. Our monthly Vocal Nosh group has been quite successful in getting people to enjoy singing, but it’s hard to grow that group. Even though it’s very easy to participate, and the social side of it is very satisfying, there’s a barrier to entry: until you’ve come along and had a sing, it seems daunting. By contrast, the Sing It Yourself events are pure fun. Dress up, come along, be a bit silly, sing along with everyone else on songs that you’ve probably known forever. Even the biggest music snobs (snob? moi?) have absorbed some of these songs through their very skins, perhaps not even realising it. That unexpected excavation of songs from the unconscious can be pleasurable, too.

My job as MC is nothing more than moving it along. We treat each event as a learning opportunity, a chance for the ‘audience’ to get involved in making choices as much as singing. I ask quiz questions, congratulate people on their costume choices, spin a story around the musical, call for votes on whether we sing songs again, throw chocolates as rewards. And, of course, operate the machinery. The words are projected on the wall, larger than life, and we’ve found a wonderful source of the special karaoke discs for popular musicals.

Our next event is 24 June, a Friday night. This time around it’s The Sound of Music. Time to get your lederhosen on! The Butter Factory in Yea is the venue, and a great venue it is. The private home of Helen and Greg Jolly, its lounge room is huge beyond belief (bigger than my local community hall) and yet with a great ambience and acoustics. I don’t think we could ask for a better place, or nicer hosts.

If you’re a fan of musicals, your enjoy laughing, you’re partial to a bit of fancy dress, or maybe you just like a bit of a sing, come and join us at Sing It Yourself. It can’t hurt, and you just might have a crazy good time!

The diligent among you may be asking what we’ve been up to. For myself, the last few months of 2010 were a whirlwind of Arts activities – we ran three separate exhibitions, continued to curate the café, organised a Vocal Nosh out at the Cheviot Tunnel, and … well, had lives. On top of everything else I had some personal health issues, and sometimes one must heed the message to slow down. But things are heating up once again. We’ll complete the transition to the new Marmalades ownership, then re-engage with our members and work out a program for the rest of the year.

If you’ve got a burning idea that you absolutely must unburden yourself of, pop on over to our Contact page and drop us a line. We would be only too happy to engage with you.

The Zelman arrived as a 50-piece orchestra on the day. Their renderings of Mozart, Beethoven and Schumann were satisfying; the audience were riveted by the sound filling the Yea Shire Hall. A highlight was the performance of Katherine Rawlings’ piece Snow Rising; the composer was playing with the orchestra, and conductor Mark Shiels (who is also the orchestra’s creative director) explained that the Zelman is embarking on a program of new works. The Rawlings collaboration is the first; henceforth they’ll be working with one student composer each year. As Shiels noted, “We’re going to play music by composers who aren’t dead.”

When all was said and done however, the special part of the concert, the element that had everyone buzzing, was the featured soloists Damien Eckersley and Phoebe Russell. Their amazing performances had the audience absolutely spellbound; words do not suffice to describe how impressive their playing was. Damien is an established performer with the MSO but Phoebe, his 16 year old protege, is still in the early years of her career. We suggest you keep a sharp eye out for her future performances. Phoebe later confided that she and Damien were slightly disconcerted by the absolute silence of the audience during their performance. No coughs or squeaking chairs interrupted the full concentration on the intensity of the playing – it was as if the audience was cast in stone for the duration. Afterwards, more than one audience member exited the auditorium with glazed eyes from sitting squarely in front of the duelling double basses; apparently the vibration was overwhelming – in a pleasurable way.

I must give special mention to Mark Shiels’ work conducting the orchestra for a mainly local audience. Aside from the achievement of getting fifty people playing together so sweetly – which is always astonishing when you really think about it – Mark was able to connect to the audience in a way that most conductors don’t seem to attempt. He told me later that he grew up in the country, and this allows him to transcend some of the formality usually associated with his role. For me, his chats to the audience made an already special performance into something far more accessible and enjoyable.

Now that the hall is cleaned, the truck returned and all the hired equipment back with its rightful owners, we now have to consider whether we can make the orchestra an annual event. It’s a big ask, given that we’ve lost money each year and much of the shortfall leaves a hole in my personal bank account. The question we’ll be addressing is whether there’s a way to cut costs and boost funding without affecting the integrity of the event. There are a few options that we’re exploring, and we’ll keep you in touch with those as they develop.

NB: I’ll post photos of the orchestra when they become available.

Our panellists were Leone Gabrielle, Joost Bakker and Vicki Tyley. Adele Anderson reprised her role as conversation convenor, once again doing a brilliant job with her gentle promptings. The discussion ranged from issues such as whether the artists showed any indication of their future vocation at seven years old, through ruminations on the source of inspiration, to each artist’s definition of success. The audience threw plenty of questions and ideas into the mix, making it a satisfying ramble through the life of an artist … or in Vicki’s case, someone who defines herself as a genre writer.

After a coffee break, we reconvened to hear Leone talk about how her life and travels play out on the canvas. I learned some things even though I’ve spoken with Leone about her work numerous times over the years, and I wonder if this is a reflection of the development of her work and sensibilities over the last couple of years.

Vicki enthralled us all with her introduction to the world of publishing and the challenges she faces in getting her books to the public. She also amused with her description of how she approaches the creation of a book. It seems that Vicki knows more methods of murder than most people.

Finally, Joost took the chair and spoke about his transition from a flower-growing family to creating flower arrangements for the best restaurants in Melbourne, to creating environmentally sound buildings. On the surface it seems like an improbable journey, and yet it all makes sense when Joost tells the story. A lengthy Q&A from a very engaged audience ensued, until I called time on what had been a thoroughly enjoyable evening.

Kudos and thanks to our indefatigable interlocutor, Adele Anderson, and also to our panellists for contributing their time. We really, really appreciate it.

Ivan, Leone and Olivia at the launch

Notwithstanding my going easy on the singing, by about an hour after the session I found I’d completely lost my voice. So when I elbowed my way into the packed Gallery 34 and realised what a sterling networking opportunity it was, I ended up playing a sad Harpo Marx for the evening. The gallery’s owner, Olivia Lawson, looked like a deer in the headlights. I was thrilled for her – there’s nothing better than having a lot of people turn up to your opening! Even though bodies were packed in like sardines, it was easy to see that the space is fresh and airy with good lighting – an excellent backdrop for Leone Gabrielle’s dreamlike naive paintings. Leone’s work has deepened in recent years with her personal explorations set against scenes gleaned from her northerly travels both within Australia and to Indonesia.

The gathering was upbeat, the champagne was plentiful, Ivan Durrant’s opening speech was succinct and entirely suited to the moment. Although I was feeling poorly, the mood of the evening lifted my spirits and refreshed my confidence that Yea is destined to become a destination for interesting art.

Other times an opportunity comes along with little time to plan, advertise, or think. An opportunity too sweet to pass up.

HotHouse Theatre approached us through channels (RAV’s Marilyn Gourley) some weeks back. The chance was there for us to bring Australia! The Show! to Yea for one night only. As you can imagine, there’s a lot of details to work out, and the negotiations took some time. We needed to be sure that we weren’t exposed to too much risk; not being a commercial organisation we don’t have money to burn, and there really wasn’t time to organise grants or any other sort of safety net. In time we managed to reach a very satisfactory agreement with HotHouse (thanks, Bernadette!) and it was all systems go.

Posters and handbills were customised and supplied by HotHouse Theatre, but we needed to organise our ticketing outlets first. We chose a couple of shops in the main street of Yea. Our idea is to drive some traffic to shops that people may not have entered before. We decided on unallocated seating – buy a ticket and grab the best seat you can find on the night – because it simplified our ticket sales. We designed our tickets to be as informative and unmissable as possible, printed and cut them by hand. Wrote the article for the newspapers. Sent emails to all our contacts asking them to pass on the good word. Phew.

Well, all that’s done now. We’re playing a waiting and hoping game. Will people come? We certainly hope so. If you’re reading this, and it’s not yet Friday 23rd July 2010 … book yourself a ticket or just come along. The night should be a hoot! It’s at the Yea Shire Hall. Doors open at 7:30pm for an 8 o’clock start. Adults pay $25, childen under 16 just $15. Tickets can be purchased from Frost Bite Cafe, or Sole Train Shoes, both in High St Yea. Alternatively, call Adam Dennis on 03 5796 9200 to book. Tell a friend, bring your auntie, get ready for a laugh.

Well, I’m here to tell you that if you weren’t there, you missed out on a truly interesting evening.

It started as planned, with our three panellists – Gary Male, Margo Oliver and Andrew Maclean – sitting behind the big table. Adele sat off to one side with her list of questions (some of which, she noted, came from Google; apparently there’s lists of questions to ask artists) and gently guided the conversation. It wasn’t just a Q&A session; Adele framed a theme with her questions, our panellists thought about the implications and discussed them. As we had hoped, the ‘audience’ was very involved in the conversation. After 75 minutes we really had to call time on the open discussion; there were other elements to the evening and we wanted people to get home before midnight! As the conversation came to a close there was a real sense of excitement in the room, with people bringing their own experiences and questions into the mix. Overall the discussion focused on artistic development – what led to our panellists becoming practising artists, what had hindered or encouraged them on that journey, how they responded to criticism, whether they thought of themselves as artists. It was all tremendously interesting and often unexpected.

We had advertised that drinks and nibbles would be available for sale on the evening; the café was closed, after all! Somehow we overlooked that people were going to arrive at 7:30 with empty stomachs. Ingrid and Lindsay were very generous with their time (again!) and plate after plate of garlic prawns arrived on the tables as the discussion progressed. I had already eaten, but the aroma was mouthwatering. Next time we’ll factor meals into the evening from the start.

After a short hiatus for coffee ordering and the hiss of milk being heated, Adam Dennis took to the hotseat and talked about being an artist in the songwriting and performing context. He played two songs, one of which he wrote only ten days ago. He spoke of trying to bring some of the spark of creation to each performance of his songs so that the audience sees something new rather than just a rendition.

Finally, we asked our panellists to talk us through some of their works. This was an opportunity to move from the conceptual to the concrete, from the narrative of being an artist (or not, if you don’t use that label) to the process of actually creating a piece. All three panellists provided a fascinating insight into their process. Gary noted that his satisfaction comes from meeting the challenge of creating each piece of furniture, of working with curves and grain and finishes. Margo showed how her favourite paintings capture the feel of light through trees on a flat horizon, as her face lit up with enthusiasm for the subject matter. Finally, Andrew showed his photographs and talked about the tension between capturing truth and allowing the viewer to bring their own interpretations to the finished work. It was also interesting to hear Andrew speak of his process; the deliberate blurring of focus in the camera, followed by enhancement on the computer and even the contribution of the printer to the final product.

It was a thoroughly entertaining and stimulating evening, immensely enjoyed by all. We’ll all be back for the next session on 26 June … and hopefully those regretful non-attendees will come along and participate in the discussion as well!

If that’s true, the walls of our our gallery display windows to many worlds. On the one hand there’s the crisp certainty of Sam Hicks’ photographs, images that can make me feel the warmth of a summer afternoon or the icy dew of morning on a hillside. Right next to those we have Myfanwy Davies’ Tumbarumba Memory, a painting that evokes an overwhelming sense of place with only the broadest of brush strokes.The contrast between the artists’ techniques is dramatic, but they seem to succeed equally well at communicating to the audience. Just after we hung Davies’ painting I saw a woman take a step back in surprise, saying “I know that place!”

I think the artist invested Tumbarumba with something more than just paint. She has captured the memory of the place, created a window to a moment in time and space. Far from being a mere map reference, it has become a world that she shares with us, a place with special meaning.

Joanna Bacher is another of our gallery artists who creates paintings rich in meaning. We have five or six of her works, all of which inspire discussion. Opinions vary about what each image means, and it’s always interesting to hear people’s perceptions. So when Jo delivered a new piece for our gallery wall on Good Friday and offered to explain it to me, you might think I’d have jumped at the chance to hear the ‘real’ story direct from the artist. But no, I realised that I didn’t want the artist to tell me exactly what her painting meant because that would take me out of the equation. My enjoyment would be muted because all the potentials of the image would be narrowed down to one, I would have no inner dialogue to engage with.

Having come to that awareness, I think maybe we’re all artists. Every time we look at an image and interpret it we are creating something new.

And in that case the meaning of art is … whatever we want it to be!