[Above: Isolation Choir self-portrait, quarantine hair included].
Greetings Dear Ones, near and far. How are you doing? What strange days! I'm wondering where you all are and how this situation is unfolding for you right now?
A bit further on in this newsletter is the long read ramble about what’s been happening with me personally over the past few weeks, but should you be short on time, let me tell you 3 things now:
1. Back in pre-pandemic land, I had the joy of being commissioned to write a new song for BBC Radio 3’s The Verb, on the theme of the 'Language of Leaving'. Late Feb, I headed up to BBC Salford HQ to perform the song, 'Exile' and discuss ideas and poetry with the legend that is Ian McMillan and his fantastic guests. Have a listen to my song opening the show and our chat here. A few days later, 'Exile' was also selected for play on Radio 4’s Pick of the Week - yay! (thanks for your kind messages letting me know, else I'd have been none the wiser :).
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2. The new single ‘La Serena’ from Yja, my Ladino (Judeo-Spanish) duo with Francesca Ter-Berg, is out now! We're so happy and proud of how it's turned out and we hope you enjoy it too. Our re-imagining of this traditional song is the first in a series that will eventually make up an EP – its psychedelic themes (women in towers who are doves, oceans made of milk and boats made of cinnamon) makes me wonder what my ancestors were smoking back in the day... have a listen and download on Bandcamp now or even better this Friday 1st May when 100% of the revenues go to the artist.
[Photo credit: Liv Anastasia Ikkala].
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3. A few weeks ago, I was invited to be part of a special creation as part of an Isolation Choir, put together by Kieran Brunt, who also wrote the beautiful song we recorded, ‘Inside I’ll Sing’. It’s been featured everywhere from The Times Best New Music List and The Independent playlist to Unclassified on Radio 3 and NOWNESS. A pretty stellar line up of singers and musicians on it too. Check the track and video here, all proceeds to Help Musicians.
[Picture credit:@drme_studio].
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Ok, so this is the moment where you put the kettle on for a hot beverage and find a comfortable chair. As promised, the long read!
Well…it seems like aeons ago now, but mid-March I was due to return from Copenhagen to London for some meetings and a festival concert later that week. Meanwhile I was grappling with a very strange disconnect: in Denmark, lock-down had already begun and the prime minister, Mette Frederiksen, was acting fast. Shopping malls, restaurants, hairdressers, schools were closed and workers had been sent home, hospitals were rapidly expanding their capacity (amazing Nordic efficiency in action!) and social distancing measures had already been put in place. (Cue: joke about Danish folk having a genetic predisposition to social distancing in public places already, but I’m sure the Danes reading this would say in response, 'er, have you met the Swedes??!' :D ). The streets were even quieter than usual and I slept fitfully (over the years, I've discovered that I generally need the faint wailing of sirens and the comforting lull of a night train nearby to kip properly. Big city DNA).
At the same time, I was getting invites to dinners and gigs for my return to London and WhatsApps from friends saying they were coming to see me play at the festival - which still hadn’t been cancelled. And I'm not surprised. The confused messaging coming out of Whitehall was in stark contrast to the very clear directives coming from Christiansborg. It was disorientating to say the least.
At the last minute - the day before my flight - I decided I had to stay put, even though I did feel a real wave of panic when it was announced that Denmark's borders would close and flights leaving the country ground to a halt. I guess closed borders is something could never have imagined happening outside of a theoretical war-time. And it frightened me to think how it would be if someone I loved in the UK fell ill and I was unable to enter or even reach the country - though, who knows how much my physical proximity would help, of course, given isolation protocols.
And over the past few weeks, I’ve had the weird and discomfiting sensation of watching the tables completely turn, with the COVID19 crisis hitting the UK far harder than in this corner of a world, and consequently entering a much stricter lockdown (at no point in Denmark have we been restricted from leaving the house or from travelling within the country). And there doesn't seem to be an indication of when it lockdown will start to ease in the UK either. It's so strange not knowing when I'll next return.
Here, schools have opened again for the younger ones, people are returning to their workplaces and bars and restaurants will soon reopen. Meanwhile, Jasper and I video chat with loved ones in the UK and meet in Copenhagen with our nearest and dearest outdoors, have mostly corrected a dangerous flirtation with box wine (that alluring little faucet dispensing endless booze!) and are working our way through Curb Your Enthusiasm Seasons 1 - 10 backwards (watching Larry getting marginally less bald as we go). The almost daily blue skies (not usually a reliable thing at this time of year) have been a huge blessing and I’m finally incubating two mason jars of homemade sauerkraut. Noma would be proud.
[Danish countryside scenes, below]
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Of course the big question hanging over my head as a musician is when on earth will I be able to perform in public again? And how many live music venues will be even in existence once the dust has settled? It’s a strange and unsettling time for everybody, I know, and I'm acutely aware of how bloody lucky I am to have a roof over my head and to have all my loved ones safe and well *touch wood, salute a magpie, spit three times* etc.
But the insecurity of the situation all the same is anxiety-inducing for us freelancers plus I’m so used to planning ahead, for the next gig, the next project or festival or tour, it's all quite a mental adjustment to make. So yes, I’ve definitely had some days of feeling pretty befuddled and down.
But I’ve been using this time to think and listen and read and learn and create new things which I’m looking forward to share with you all. I've also been thinking and talking with inspiring people about how to gather a special community around my work in a way that is inspiring and enriching for everyone involved - more on that soon :)
I'm also learning some songs in Danish - one or two *might* get an outing, no promises - men jeg skal prøver! In the meantime, I'm sending love and strength to you all, wherever you are. As the old Ladino saying goes, kuando se eskurese es para amasser - "darkness means that the dawn is on it's way".
A x
ps and if you're still reading (are we related?) a couple more Yja links to pass the time...
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Here's a 3 min video chat that me & Francesca had giving you the background on our new duo project, Yja, a bit about my family history and Francesca and I's approach to exploring this music.
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An interview with the wonderful Max Reinhardt on Soho Radio, talking about Yja. Max has been a supporter of both me and Francesca's projects since Late Junction days. Max also premieres 2 other Yja tunes on the show, as yet unreleased. We are on 1hour 49mins in.
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