Lunenburg Folk Harbour's First Songwriting Camp

It's been an intense few days. Wow.

Co-facilitating the first ever Folk Harbour Songwriting Camp with Kev Corbett was a full-on three days of heart and craft. In trying to teach some young folks how to find out what they had to say and how to say it well in a song, I learned a ton. I learned a ton from our participants. I also learned a ton from Kev, who's a stellar musician.

We went over structure and lyric-writing technique. We listened to songs by masters of the craft. We worked on figuring out guitars and PAs and our voices. We were lucky enough to have visits from David Myles and Rose Cousins, who shared some of their songwriting secrets and gave feedback on some of our participants' tunes.

And we wrote. It was a jam-packed few days.

I think the most poignant moment for me was toward the end of the third day, when I shared this quote with the camp:

“Singers and Musicians are some of the most driven, courageous people on the face of the earth. They deal with more day-to-day rejection in one year than most people do in a lifetime. Every day, they face the financial challenge of living a freelance lifestyle, the disrespect of people who think they should get real jobs, and their own fear that they’ll never work again. Every day, they have to ignore the possibility that the vision they have dedicated their lives to is a pipe dream. With every note, they stretch themselves, emotionally and physically, risking criticism and judgment. With every passing year, many of them watch as the other people their age achieve the predictable milestones of normal life – the car, the family, the house, the nest egg. Why? Because musicians and singers are willing to give their entire lives to a moment – to that melody, that lyric, that chord, or that interpretation that will stir the audience’s soul. Singers and Musicians are beings who have tasted life’s nectar in that crystal moment when they poured out their creative spirit and touched another’s heart. In that instant, they were as close to magic, God, and perfection as anyone could ever be. And in their own hearts, they know that to dedicate oneself to that moment is worth a thousand lifetimes.”
– David Ackert, LA Times

That's why we do what we do. It was an honour to help our young participants more fully join the ranks of the world's brave songwriters.

My First Real Video

It feels like baby's first steps. My first professional video. I'm all a flutter.

It was a joy to shoot this with Analog Songs. (Thank you, Katy, Cameron and Stephen.)

This song is very meaningful and important to me and, I think, to our culture at large. I hope you will enjoy and share.

Harmony Bazaar Festival

Hi Everyone!

I can't believe I leave for Lockeport in the morning for the Harmony Bazaar Festival. I'm really looking forward to it and hope the weather holds out.

A quick run down of where I'll be:

Friday, July 26, 6:30-6:50 I have a solo set on the main stage to kick off the evening.
Saturday, July 27, 10-noon I'll be at the Lockeport Library playing some tunes with other fine festival performers.
Saturday, July 27, 2-3 I'll be back on the main stage for a songwriter's circle with Katey Day, Doris Mason and Christine Campbell
And
Sunday, July 28, 1-3:30 I'll be up on the mainstage for the Irish invitational to help close out the show.

I hope to see you there!

The Listener's Power

I love the film Topsy Turvy, by Mike Leigh. It's about Gilbert & Sullivan and their creation of the Mikado. In the lead-up to Gilbert finding the subject matter for the Mikado, the cast of the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company are struggling through a summer run of the ailing Princess Ida in the middle of a London heat wave. Two of the male leads chat in their dressing room after a particularly hot performance:

Mr. Temple: My voice, my voice. I've strained my voice. I've been trying too hard. The smaller the house, the greater the effort. I'm very cross with myself. I should know better. One is knocking one's pipes out in a vain attempt to elicit a response from three colonial bishops, two elderly ladies and an intoxicated costermonger! They're all roasting their own lard like the Christmas goose!

Mr. Lely: Yes, and the costermonger left at the interval.

Mr. Temple: Did he?

Mr. Lely: Mmm.

Mr. Temple: A man of infinite taste, clearly.

No matter how many times I see this film, I always get a kick out of this exchange between two artists commiserating over their failure to reach their audience.

What happens when no one listens?

I recently played a benefit gig where I was asked to sing a few songs between courses at a dinner. The room was small, the organizers assured me, and there would be no need for a sound system.

What they did not take into consideration was that there would not be a listening audience.

It's an awkward thing when one has been asked to sing, but the audience is not interested in listening. I had a number of friends in the audience who backed me up with shushing, clapping and cheers, and I have plenty of experience playing in bars and restaurants where no one wants to listen, but it was still all I could do to fight my way through a handful of songs - especially since I was unplugged and recovering from a cold.

The audience has the power to co-create each performance – or not

Do you ever think about that when you go out to hear live music, or a play, or a poetry reading? Or perhaps you have gone out to dinner, only to discover that it's open mic night at the local bistro. By listening intently and meaningfully, the audience expands their experience of the performer(s). If you try to tune into it, you'll start to feel the connection between the performer and yourself, yourself and the rest of the audience. There is a magic to it; a magic that blesses the best shows.

I've had this experience countless times, both as a performer and as an audience member. I love to listen as much as I love to sing and I go to performances of all kinds with my heart wide open. I love to feel that I am part of a shared experience with everyone in the room, performer and audience alike. I see it as an opportunity for communion.

A couple of examples leap to mind

Many years ago, in my early 20s, I had the opportunity to hear Dr. Bernie Siegel, the oncologist and writer, speak at a conference. Years later, that talk is still seared into my mind. I felt as if he were speaking only to me, while at the same time knowing that almost everyone in the room must be feeling the same way.

More recently, I went to see Hawksley Workman perform at Massey Hall. Hawksley had a cold and was well dosed with cough drops and Sudafed. Half way through the show, the amplification cut out. Hawksely and his band continued playing, unplugged. Everyone in that sold-out audience was absolutely silent, to catch the sweetness of their fragility and courage. I was weeping and I bet a lot of other people were too. When the audience joined in on the chorus, there was an unforgettable sense of oneness. We were with Hawksley and with one another. Brave and defiant and gentle, undeterred by germs or mechanical failure.

This sense of communion is one of the reasons I love music shows at the West Dublin Hall. In addition to the ambiance and acoustics, the people who come to hear shows there really know how to be an audience. They come with their hearts and ears open. They know that there will be plenty of time to chat at the break and during the sets they listen, laugh, think, love and sometimes cry.

How to get the most out of every live performance experience

The next time you are out at a play, concert, poetry reading or talk, imagine that the performer is one of your best friends, about to tell you a treasured secret. Open your heart to receive and cherish what they have to say. Or, at the very least, imagine yourself in the performer's shoes and show respect for their courage in the same measure that you would like them to show it to you if your roles were reversed. I guarantee that you will hear interesting things that you would not otherwise hear.

It could change your life.

It has changed mine.

PS: The next times to participate in the magic at the West Dublin Hall are July 5, 2013, 8pm: Pennybrook's Tour and CD Launch and July 13, 2013, 8pm: Dana Beeler and Jordan Cameron.
E-mail me to reserve advanced tickets: mail[at]alexsings[dot]ca.

Alex Hickey is a Nova Scotian singer-songwriter and champion audience member. Her Web site is www.alexsings.ca. 

[from Hal McGee, our host on Sunday night]

Reminder of the

Janet Barkhouse & Alex Hickey

Owl’s Head Road House Concert Series

7:00 for 7:30 Sunday, 16 June 

For those of you who have responded, thank you; for those of you who have not, this is a reminder that there are somewhere around a dozen moderately comfortable seats still available. It is an opportunity to hear some finely crafted poetry and music. (I have assured Alex that tissues will be available for the tear-jerkers in her repertoire. You have to supply the laughter all on your own for the more humorous numbers).  Hearing Jan read is a delightfully rewarding treat, as those of you who attended the Astor Authors event last year can attest. 

At the moment, the weather forecast is good. An added treat is that B.B. King will be in attendance (BBK is a cat I am looking after for a friend). A good time to be had by all. 

RSVP to me: mail[at]alexsings[dot]ca and I'll put you in touch with Hal to reserve a seat. (I don't want to put Hal's email address on the great big Web).

The green-eyed monster

Envy.

It's been rearing its ugly head a lot over here, recently.

I'm envious of other people's accomplishments, even in the face of my own. How come that person gets to be younger, prettier, more talented? Gets to open for so-and-so, be the darling of that promoter or this radio station and just plain gets more attention than I do. 

It makes me want to sit in a corner and sulk. 

Western culture is bizarre about competition. We're obsessed with winning and achieving things. We teach kids in school to work hard for marks and to care about the hierarchy - who's smarter than whom, who's winning?

I was an academic whiz in school, so I got used to winning that race early on. I had my share of people who were mean to me because they resented my position in the academic hierarchy. You'd think that would have shown me the dark side of envy and made me less prone to it. But, I guess it didn't.

Envy especially seems to thrive because we're not supposed to talk about it. One of my favourite songs is about envy - My Cousin has a Grey Cup Ring by Donovan Woods. 

All the things I want in life  

He's got a car, and a beard and a wife 

He's not jealous of the way I sing 

But I'm jealous of his Grey Cup Ring

I love Donovan's light touch with how we often long for what we don't have. When I envy the young kids in my business with their energy and talent, do I really long to be twenty-five again? No, I wouldn't relive my twenties for all the gold in the Canadian North. My 20s sucked.

I find being kind to myself helps alleviate envy.

The external world might be all about winning and losing, but my internal world doesn't need to be.

Competition kills creativity. 

I heard Jamie Ridler interview Brené Brown once and that's what Brené said. And if you can't trust Brené Brown, who can you trust? 

Remembering to be grateful for what I have takes the focus off other people. Remembering to celebrate other people's accomplishments and be genuinely happy for them is important. And remembering that they are them and I am me is the most important. 

Nobody can be better at being me than me. 

And all I truly want is to be authentically myself, wherever that "gets me" in the exterior world.

Do you ever feel jealous - of colleagues, friends, even family? What sets off your green-eyed monster and how do you calm it down?

Owl's Head Road Concert Series - Sunday, June 16

On June 16 at 7pm (for a 7:30 start) we will gather at the home of Hal McGee - my mom (poet Janet Barkhouse) and I - for a performance of poetry and song.

Mom and I write along similar themes, but with different perspectives and in different artistic fields. We've worked out an integrated set, well-balanced between poetry and song, dealing with love, loss, the environment, mindfulness, spirituality: the human experience. Both dark and light, it promises to be a moving and gripping show, with a few laughs thrown in for good measure.

Come join us in Hunt's Point, NS if you would like to experience an evening of poetry and music, deeply felt and considered. (To reserve tickets, please click to e-mail me.)

May 31 Pictou Gig Cancelled

Sorry, folks, but due to circumstances beyond my control, I'm not going to be able to play the show I had scheduled at Carver's in Pictou on May 31.

The next chance to see me will be closer to home: I'll be opening the Bridgewater Farmer's Market (on King Street) on June 1, playing from 10am-noon.

Confessions and Update

Well, here we are approaching the end of April and all of my good intentions about re-vamping my blog, like having regular weekly and monthly features, are obviously out the window.

It was just too structured, and I'm not a structured person with an orderly life. When it got too structured, writing this blog stopped being fun. It stopped being me. So guess what? I stopped doing it.

I think there's a lesson in there for me.

End of Month Review #2: February 27 poetry reading by George Elliot Clarke

Last night I went to hear George Elliot Clarke read poetry.

To be honest, I was only mildly interested in going. I'd read Clarke's book, George and Rue, and had loved it. But that was my only experience with his work, so I actually thought I was going to a prose reading.

Clarke opened with a seemingly random speech about how students in Quebec are protesting tuition hikes because they are the last students with any oomph left in them because they have been the least crushed by debt. And they sensibly want to stay that way. From the freedom of the sixties, GEC explained that there has been a concerted effort to use financial burdens to encourage students to toe the line. Clarke called for students and retirees to seize their relative financial freedom and be a force for change in the world.

Though unexpected, this speech set the tone perfectly for an evening of poetry that was revolutionary, joyous, free original and sexy.

Not knowing what to expect, I was quickly lost in Clarke's world of words and his rhythmic, impassioned delivery. By turns scholarly and earthy, and sometimes both together, my brain and libido both got a good workout.

My favorite moment came when a member of the audience asked if GEC had any advice for writers and aspiring writers. "Find your own voice," he replied emphatically. And went on to explain that even when that hurts the writer, or people around the writer, there is only one choice to make about speaking the truth.

Inspiring. Fascinating. Illuminating.

***George Elliott Clarke has written numerous books of poetry. Last night he read from three of those volumes: Red, Blue and Black.***

Song Note Sunday #3: Cardboard Heroes

Last week's Song Note Sunday was cancelled due to illness.

Cardboard Heroes goes back a long way. It was the title track of an album I made in 1996, that was released only on cassette.

1996 cassette release of Cardboard Heroes

I think I wrote the song in 1995. I was living in a basement apartment on Beatrice Street in Toronto. I was getting over the breakup of my first true love and feeling really dark about a lot of things. I felt like the way I had grown up made me unfit to have a successful relationship. 

Close by my apartment, at the corner of Harbord and Grace, there was a hockey card store called "Cardboard Heroes". The phrase ricocheted around my brain and developed into the basis for a song. The name of the store, and the idea that people were so invested in the 2-dimensional heroes they found on hockey cards, resonated with me. 

I had known the Malvina Reynolds song, "Little Boxes", since childhood. I felt like my generation was living in the fallout from that generation of hollow, middle class expectations. Cardboard Heroes is like the bastard child of Little Boxes. 

Song Note Sunday #2: The Minnie Pearl (or How Art Breeds Art)

The story behind this song is a story about how art cross-pollinates.

Lunch in Hall's Harbour, NS

One summer's day more than 17 years ago, when I was just beginning to write songs, my mom, my nana and I went to Hall's Harbour to get lobsters for lunch. Hall's Harbour is just a hop, skip and a jump from my nana's cottage in Harbourville* (sense a theme here with the harbour thing? We have a lot of harbours in Nova Scotia.)

It was a beautiful day, perfect for driving across the North Mountain of the Annapolis Valley and seeing the sights. Hall's Harbour has been more tourist-y than Harbourville (at least for the past 20 years or so). In addition to the lobsters, we knew there would be a couple of shops to go into. It would be the perfect outing for a fine day.

While our lobsters boiled and the seagulls wheeled and cried overhead (looking forward to the lobster shells, no doubt), we went into John Neville's studio**. The studio was full of amazing wood block prints. John Neville's wife was there and she avidly told us the stories behind the prints in her authoritative British accent.

Art breeds art

I remember one print showing a bunch of local women pushing a rum-runner's shack off a cliff in retribution for providing their sons and husbands with liquor. But the print that really caught my eye told the story of a man who bought a boat that sank. He raised her up and fixed her up and took her out fishing again. She sank again. So, he raised her up, dragged her up on the beach, doused her with gasoline and set her on fire.

The print was entitled, So I Burned the Bitch.

I loved the story. The bloody-mindedness of that fisherman caught at my heart. I loved him. I loved that he would go to all that trouble to destroy something that had broken his heart. (I am prone to doing those sorts of vindictive things myself – or at least fantasizing about doing them.)

The story haunted me, but I didn't even try to write the song for another 8 or 9 years. When I did try, the lyrics came fairly easily, but the tune and accompaniment bogged it down. About 5 years ago, I workshopped it with my voice coach, Deanna Yerichuk, who told me to sing it as if I felt each emotion as it came up in the song: ambition, pride, devastation, triumph, despair and vindication. That helped a lot. It brought my passion for the song's subject to the fore. But it wasn't until I ditched the guitar and sang the song a cappella that it truly came to life.

There is was: bare and sparse. The sort of song you might sing into the wind while something that has betrayed you burns to wreckage behind you on the beach.

You can listen to The Minnie Pearl here.

*My nana's cottage is still in the family and I still spend time there every summer. For more information about Harbourville, visit the Harbourville Restoration Society Web site.
**John Neville no longer has a studio in Hall's Harbour. The last I heard, he was living and working in Maine.

Song Note Sundays #1: Jimmy Dean

Written: ~2007

Recorded: 2012, Blackbirds
Click here to listen to Jimmy Dean

Back in 2006, I went on a road trip from Toronto to Tennessee with my good friend, Momo. 

At the time, and unbeknownst to Momo, the 12-year relationship I was in was secretly staggering to its slow and painful death. And that's what I saw as we drove through the American mid-west, too. Crumbling infrastructure, depression and hopelessness. (And Waffle Houses. Lots and lots of delicious, delicious Waffle Houses.)

Mmmm, Waffle House...

Momo, a phenomenal photographer, particularly likes to stop and shoot pictures of roadside attractions (among many other things). She is the perfect travel companion: she researches and plans cool things on every leg of a trip. I just go along for the ride. I've seen a lot of interesting things with Momo.

Another Roadside Attraction, Photo credit: heymomo

This song, though, is about something we didn't see

Partway through Indiana, Momo's itinerary informed us that we were passing close to the birthplace of actor and American icon, James Dean. We veered off the main drag, hot on the trail, but we couldn't find it. 

We wound up in the downtown of a mid-sized town whose main feature seemed to be a couple of giant (at least for the size of town) warehouses, boarded up and abandoned. I guess because Canada doesn't have the same kind of commercial past as the U.S., it isn't very common to see abandoned warehouses in small towns up here. The only place I'd ever seen something similar was in London, Ontario, and that's a much bigger city where the abandoned warehouses didn't seem as out of place. 

The downtown was deserted

Maybe because it was Labour Day, or maybe because it was always deserted, I don't know. We headed out of town, continuing to search for a sign or any indication of James Dean's birthplace. No luck. All we found was a trailer park and a busy big box mall. 

A few miles down the road in Gas City we stopped at the historical museum. I went in to ask for directions and got a beautiful, long-winded and extremely friendly response from the local history buffs. We had totally missed James Dean's birthplace, but all we had to do to see his family's homestead and his grave was to go back a couple of miles and hang a left. 

Momo and I thought about it. But somehow, there was no going back.

The End of Month Album Review #1: January 2013

Preamble

Pretty much the only thing I love more than writing and playing music is listening to music and going to live music shows. Fortunately, I live in a hotbed of house concerts and summer festivals. And I buy as many CDs at those events as I can afford.

Since I have access to a wealth of music, much of it extremely good but unfortunately relatively obscure Canadiana, I have decided to add reviews to my blog to share some of my live show and CD experiences with more people. 

I'm tempted to choose this review each month based on the CD that's in my car stereo. That is certainly the case this month, but I don't think I'll keep that as a hard and fast rule. 

1929 by Sheesham, Lotus & Son (2012)

I've seen this Kingston, Ontario-based band several times, both at the Lunenburg Folk Harbour Festival and at an intimate barn concert just across the river from my home (where I bought this CD).

SL&S are tons of fun: quirky, unique and fully-alive in their music. Their stage set-up makes me think of turn-of-the-20th-Century-hawkers mashed-up with Dr. Seuss. With a sousaphone holding down the bass end, this band rollicks out old-time tunes with fiddle, banjo, harmonica, whistling, kazoo, voices and a fascinating contraption that amplifies and distorts and looks like an old ear trumpet. Maybe there's a name for that thing, but I don't know what it is.

This record does a good job at capturing the juice and personality of a live Sheesham, Lotus and Son show. Recorded "In pleasing MONO" and "live off the floor with one North of Princess G7 microphone" as the cover notes brag, the recording is sparse and truly old timey.

The songs are either traditional or covers of songs by jazz and blues songwriters from the early part of the last century. There's a fabulous version of Frankie and Johnny. And the whistling on Lazy, Lazy River will melt your heart. My favourite song of all has got to be "Drunken Nights" about a man coming home drunk to his lover and having her try to explain away the presence of another man in his bed. The song is delivered in character: the slurred and staggering husband and the prim and patronizing wife. It makes me laugh every time.

A great record for fans of old time music or for anyone looking for something a little different: raw, direct songs presented with stellar musicianship, showmanship and verve.

Expand This Blog

A week and a half ago, I took a blog-writing workshop facilitated by Chris Fraser of Firefly Creative Writing. It was two days of writing, sharing, supporting and growing with thirty-some-odd delightful, creative bloggers and soon-to-be bloggers.

It expanded my horizons and made me think bigger about what I could do with this blog. It made me see that I could make my blog more fun and interesting than just the occasional update about where I'm at.

A Brave New World of Posts

So, starting this month, there are going to be some new kinds of posts around here as well as some regular features. Expect to see:

Song Note Sundays

Every Sunday, I'll write a post about a song that I've written – possibly from one of my three CDs, or one that's currently unrecorded. I'll talk about what inspired me and what challenges I encountered during the songwriting process.

The End of Month Album Review

On the last day of each month, I'll post a review of one of my favourite records – expect lots of East Coasters, lots of Canadians, as well as a few artists from farther afield, some recent albums and some a little longer in the tooth.

Experiments

I'm going to experiment with vlogging, and with occasional shorter posts – sometimes posting just an image or a link.

Gig Reports

I'm going to report on every live show I play.

No Bull

Let's face it, there's a temptation with a "career blog" to focus on the positive, to the exclusion of everything else. Life is not like that. There are bad gigs. There are bad experiences. I'm usually pretty good about being authentic, because that's just how I like to live my life. But I admit, I have been leaving some stuff out. From now on, it's balls to the wall. If I tank a show, I'll tell you about it. If I make a dreadful foul-up, you'll read about it here. (Just writing that scares me. Oh, I hope I don't ever make another mistake again for the rest of my life...)

What would you like to see?

Is there anything you'd like to see me write about? Are you curious about my take on something or some aspect of this songwriter's life? Let me know!

Persistance Pays Off - I Got Granted

A poet friend of my mother's once said that she considers applying for grants to be part of the job of being an artist. Not a part of the job she enjoys, mind you, but something she grits her teeth and gets through, because if you want to be a poet and not starve to death, that's what you've gotta do.

I decided to follow her good example and dutifully completed a grant application last spring to cover costs associated with my new CD, Blackbirds. It was a roughly $13,000 project, and I could use all the help I could get. I can't tell you how disappointed I was when the rejection came back. Very. Oh, I knew the odds going in. And I knew that asking for the maximum grant amount lowered my odds even further. But I was still disappointed.

Be thankful for crowdfunding, I thought. Be thankful for your friends and family and day job that will all help pay to make this piece of art.

I hate getting back on any horse after a rejection. I should be tougher, but all I really wanted to do after receiving the big "NO" was to crawl under a rock and stay there. But, there was work to be done that needed financing. And, there was a nice little note on my rejection letter inviting me to apply again.

So, this past fall, I gathered up my courage and prepared for rejection once more. I requested funding assistance for a smaller project this time – and less than half of the grant's maximum allowable request.

And I got granted.

Oh, the ELATION! The VINDICATION! The RELIEF!

Sure, it's just a little bit of money. And I have to spend at least as much again to validate my grant request. But, at the end of the day, I'll have a new web site and professional video. And I'll have had the opportunity to work with some great people in Nova Scotia's music community, like Katy and Stephen at Analog Songs. And have the fun of hiring musicians I respect and adore to help me.

Even better, though, there's a lesson about overcoming rejection, trying again and getting accepted, that I needed to learn. This dynamic plays itself out all the time – booking gigs and getting promotional recognition, like interviews or reviews. I find it a gruelling process; I spend too much time wanting to crawl under a rock after people say "NO" to me. This is a lesson to keep the faith, stay calm and simply keep asking until they say: "YES".

This blog post owes a debt of gratitude to the Nova Scotia Department of Culture and Heritage:




Alex Hickey recognizes the support of the Province of Nova Scotia through the Department of Communities, Culture & Heritage. We are pleased to work in partnership with the Culture Division to develop and promote our cultural resources for all Nova Scotians.