Three days ago, I did my first concert in three and a half years. This time, we were four musicians, from two generations: Keith Tabisher (guitarist, composer), Summer Dawn (singer-songwriter), Clayton Seas (guitarist) and I. It was our shared hunger to perform live that found us creating our own event.
There’s so much I want to write
about. As someone who pays great
attention to detail, I believe everything has at least three phases – before,
during and after. In every phase, I could easily be accused of overthinking,
but the ‘after’ phase is definitely a time for reflection and assessment. I sometimes forget that not everyone is as
critical as I am, and - even more
importantly – that not everyone wants to deal with constructive criticism. So I
do it as a solo activity, unless an opportunity arises – in a line-up like this
one - to reflect, as a group. I learnt
from my mother, who performed from age 14 to 82, the importance of listening to
recordings of your performances, in order to learn and grow.
For me, this concert was about so
much more than anyone may realise.
·
It was a celebration of life, having survived
the past two and a half years of the Covid pandemic.
·
It was a reclaiming of my identity as a
performer of original work and a creative entrepreneur.
·
It was a celebration of the three people with
whom I shared the stage:
– Keith, whom I’ve known since high school,
who’s been my duo music partner since 2003, and who’s shared so much of
my music journey;
-
Clayton, a talented young man I met in Sweden,
in 2017, when he was a teenager. He was part of the World’s Children’s
Prize band, and I was attending the gathering as a representative of one of the
funders. Three months later, I included him in a concert I did at the Nassau
Hall, in Cape Town. Since then, we’ve been talking about another collaboration;
and
-
Summer Dawn, my daughter. I’m acutely aware
that, as an exceptionally talented and newly-qualified performer (after 4 years
at the Waterfront Theatre School), with a busy performance schedule and an
interest in working abroad, she might not be in South Africa for long. We love
singing together, and I really wanted to perform in public with her, to share
our sound, but also to seize the day, as it were. I also really wanted her to sing her originals.
·
It also ended up being an opportunity to renew
my working relationship with André Manuel, who did our sound and lighting.
André and his wife, Chantel Erfort Manuel, the co-founders of Dala Flat Music, have
played a huge role in my music journey, since 2004. In fact, André has done the
sound for me at every one of my concerts.
·
It was an opportunity to perform original work.
Even though only two items from the first set (Clayton & Summer) were
originals, the entire second set consisted of Keith and my originals.
·
Venues always fascinate me, so it was a
wonderful opportunity to perform in a historical church – the church my father
attended as a boy, before the Group Areas Act forcibly removed “Coloured”
people from Claremont. Singing my song, “In the Shade of Table Mountain”, about
District Six, was deeply meaningful to me.
Now that we’ve done the concert
and we’re just waiting for the official photos and video, I’m in deep
reflection mode. What can I say? I’m a triple Virgo (yes – Sun, Moon and
Ascendant), so detail is my game.
In future, I would do two main things
differently – use the performance space better (we kept moving chairs and tangling
cables), and stick to our planned timing. We ended much later, which was
avoidable. Fortunately, these two things can be addressed. The other things I'd do differently are not for this post.
I’ve listened to the audio
recording of the concert twice already, and have been engaging with my own
performance, confronting the bits I wasn’t happy with, but also appreciating
the bits I’m proud of. To my surprise, I was incredibly nervous, which hasn’t
happened to me for a long time. I need to spend some time processing what that
was about, and how to eliminate it, in future.
I loved collaborating with these artists, each
of whom has a uniqueness that I enjoy and celebrate. The rehearsal process was
enjoyable, and we got used to spending time together. Rehearsals
are about so much more than just singing your songs repeatedly and agreeing on keys and tempos. There’s a group dynamic that is built, in the process – on stage, everyone
depends on everyone else. That trust
grows during the rehearsal process.
This concert was remarkable, in
that we put it on without any funding, relying 100% on ticket sales to cover our
costs. Along the way, I kept the artists aware of the range of our earning
possibilities, depending on the number of tickets sold. Two of our core service
providers turned down remuneration, which was extremely generous.
In closing, I want to say that,
for me, this concert has highlighted two things, crucial to my journey; things that will undeniably inform my choices from now
on:
·
This is the first concert I’ve put on (since
2009), where I’ve included myself as someone to be paid. Yes, for the very first
time, I have earned something from one of my concerts, and not run at a
financial loss. I’m consciously breaking patterns that no longer serve me. It’s part of living with healthier
boundaries, and of honouring myself as I do others.
·
Singing my own songs to a live audience is a
completely different, and far more fulfilling, experience to singing covers as
background music. As with most things in life, it doesn’t have to be all or
nothing - the latter (singing covers) is always going to be about staying
musically active and earning something in the process. But where my heart lies
is in singing the songs I wrote - the songs that tell the stories inside me.
I’ve already got my next concert
concept buzzing around my brain. I don’t want to lose momentum. Ultimately, I
have to learn how to best manage my energy output. At age 60, I feel the need
to accelerate plans I’ve put on hold for so long. I want to push beyond my self-imposed
boundaries.
As I sing in one of my songs,
“This is my journey / The road ahead, the road behind / My journey – who knows
what I’ll find?”
