Interview with Bryony Sier

There were so many artists to enjoy last week at Focus Wales, one of the nation’s premier music showcase festivals. Among them, a host of Welsh country and Americana artists and bands, most of whom I had the opportunity to see and hear over the course of the three days. And from the psychedelic country of Melin Melyn to the soulful sounds of Albert Jones, via the country-pop of Rosey Cale and the outlaw Americana of Little Folk, what was clear was the breadth and depth of talent emerging across Wales.

On the more traditional end of the country spectrum, but by no means confined to it, was another artist who I was delighted to discover through Focus Wales: Bryony Sier. She was kind enough to sit down with me for a short chat about her experience and her music career so far. Although she already has three EPs to her name, she is still a relative newcomer to the live music scene. And as I chat to her, it becomes clear that she has been on a real journey to get to this point. No sooner had I begun, by asking her about how the festival has helped her as an up-and-coming artist, she reveals that ‘I do have a bit of anxiety as a musician’. As a result, when she visited last year for the first time, ‘I sort of went to my gig and that was… it’. Twelve months on though, she feels like she’s ‘grown in that space of time…. My music’s changed and I feel stronger as a performer…. It’s really helped me to gain a bit of confidence really’.

That confidence has taken her out of her base in the Valleys – Merthyr Tydfil to be exact – to finding herself ‘mostly gigging now in Cardiff and in Newport’. She has been to London too, and admits that ‘I’d like to travel further’. She has no plans to move though, for the time being at least:

‘I love the countryside…. I love Wales. It’s quite nice and peaceful. And… with Merthyr, it’s quite a close-knit community so everybody knows each other’

One of the benefits to coming from such a community is the support that she and others – ‘like Florence Black and Pretty Vicious’ – receive. It perhaps makes up for the lack of opportunities to gig closer to home.

Despite the community support, she has recognised that, to build an audience and promote herself, she now has to look beyond her geographical location. To this end, she has recently taken up vlogging, which she describes as ‘a distraction’. From what I’m not sure, but if I were to guess, I would probably say her anxiety.

‘It helps me to get more confident in front of a camera, and… at the moment I’m trying to find out who I am so it’s kind of… helping with that too’

As part of that process of self-discovery, she has also experimented with different sounds.

‘In the beginning it was just country. Pure country. I had a strong lilt to my voice. [Then] I sort of went from country to folk – more country-folk – and then I started doing blues as well, so that was involved in it. But now it’s like folk-roots, a bit of country-pop…, and I’ve just written a dance song’

It is interesting that such experimentation has not led her to find a specific sound that defines her. Instead,

‘what you find as an artist [is] you change with time. In my opinion, I don’t think you can put a label on some music because it does just change, and that’s what I want to do. I just want to keep changing all the time basically – just learning and developing… and creating new sounds’.

Like Kacey Musgraves, Ward Thomas, et al, Sier wants to have the freedom to explore different ideas and sounds. She is your typical modern country artist – putting the song first, holding to the ideal of three chords and the truth, but allowing herself to be influenced by that which lies outside of the traditional confines of the genre. Not that she can escape it altogether. One of her most important influences, apart from her family, is Johnny Cash. Listening to her latest EP Captivity, it is hard not to recognise the impact of the great man’s music on her own.

‘When I was younger, I’d basically be sat in the car with The Eagles and Neil Diamond on and stuff. I didn’t like Johnny Cash back then…. I’d be like, ‘What is this? What’s he talking about [on A Boy Named Sue]’. But now – oh my gosh! – I heard him again when I was older, and we had Vintage TV on, and I could hear this voice and I was like, ‘Who is singing there now?’ There was like a dark holler to the voice. And I sat through this entire documentary of Johnny Cash and I was obsessed. And then I watch the film ‘Walk the Line’ and after that became more obsessed…. His music definitely inspired me’

I bring the conversation back around to her anxiety. Knowing myself how important it is to speak about it, particularly in Mental Health Awareness Week, I wonder if she can share some of her own experience with it.

‘So I didn’t know what anxiety was. I think it started in high school, and then it just got worse. And I thought after high school, because it was such a horrible environment, I just thought after that, ‘Oh, surely now things will get better’…. But then it actually just manifested and [although] I talked to my mam about it… I just kept it to myself. So I go to college and would be like constantly on edge. I was doing performing arts funnily enough. That doesn’t make any sense really, does it?! But I just always felt like pushing myself…. I thought, ‘I want to try and change now. I want to make new friends’ and things like that. It didn’t work out that way, but it was just really bad timing. I finished the performing arts course. I did another course then – music – which was better because there were like 16 people in the class…, but I still would come home just in tears because I couldn’t understand why I was feeling so worked up. But eventually it got to the point where I was like, ‘I can’t do this anymore’, and I just felt something was wrong. And I went to the doctor then and they basically mentioned anxiety to me and that’s how I got out of it. But for so many years I just buried it because I thought… it was just nerves. But it was so much more than that. Even after they told me what it was, college was like a big barrier because obviously, from school, like a similar type of environment with so many people, just crowds in general, that’s why this [coming to Focus Wales] is hard because it’s just packed with people and I was like, ‘Where do I look? What do I do?’

‘I’ve still got the anxiety. I don’t know whether it will ever go away. But I recently became a Christian and that’s helped me a lot really. I know there are other ways people can go, but that was my… refuge in a way. And now I just think, everything’s for a purpose. And I just think I’ve been given the gift of music and I just want this to help people. Because I know that anxiety is so hard to explain, and it’s got so many layers to it…. It’s like you’re living in your own head. That’s the hardest thing. So, I think, it’s working your way out of that. But I don’t know if I ever will.’

It’s inspiring to hear her desire to turn her experience into a positive – to help others who are going through similar, to know that they are not alone – by using the ‘gift’ of music. It’s a gift that she sees as being given her by God. Her new-found faith is certainly present on her latest EP Captivity. It will also form the basis of what will be her next EP Identity. It seems that the parallels with Cash don’t just stop at her musical sound. Like that sound though, she doesn’t want to be boxed in by a label.

I end by asking whether, going forward, she feels pressure to categorise herself, as either a Christian music artist, or an artist whose music just happens to include Christian themes. She admits:

‘I think it’s going to be difficult because I have written some worship songs but it’s separate from my secular music. But then I have got songs like ‘Holy Ground’, ‘Lions’ Den’ [which have] faith elements in them… but they are very subtle’.

Like the grand old debate about what constitutes “country music”, what constitutes “Christian music” is perhaps, ultimately, a question without a clear-cut answer. I suspect that Sier doesn’t really care. Instead, she believes that ‘God has given me the opportunity to do this’, ‘to reach people who really feel like they can’t go on anymore – they’ve hit rock bottom – because that’s where I was’. In that regard, she will perhaps emulate another female country music artist who has managed to transcend this obsession with categorisation, Philippa Hanna. She certainly has the talent and motivation to do so. And as she gets a firm grip on her anxiety and her confidence continues to grow, I suspect there’ll be no stopping her. Bryony Sier is determined to be a person free of limitations.

Originally written for Building Our Own Nashville.

Featured Image (C) Bryony Sier

Interview with Rosey Cale

It was such a pleasure meeting country-pop artist Rosey Cale. The Welsh singer-songwriter was performing at Focus Wales, one of the nation’s premier music showcase festivals, and I was delighted to catch her for an interview in between her two sets.

Her calm and considered persona whilst performing is no onstage act. As I sat down with her, it was interesting to capture her outsider perspective on the town that has been the base for Focus Wales since its inception: Wrexham. Her keen observance of the homeless population was palpable. But it was her experience at the entrance to Waterstone’s bookstore earlier in the day that revealed a heart brimming with compassion. For a store assistant had prevented a homeless man from entering in. And it was the way that the assistant had addressed this guy in the third person that really shocked her, failing to treat him with any ounce of respect or basic humanity.

During our conversation, I was struck by the gift of gentleness that Rosey possesses. It perhaps comes from her temperament. She describes herself as ‘quite a reserved person…, definitely an introvert’. It is for this reason, she thinks, that she still resides in the beautiful countryside of Pembrokeshire, West Wales, rather than choosing, like so many other artists, to move to the city. Not that she has anything against cities, ‘but I don’t think I would ever call the city home… my heart is near the beach and just because I’ve grown up with that, I don’t know anything different really’.

In the age of the internet, living in such a distant part of the country is no longer as disadvantageous as it might once have been. When I ask her if she is influenced by a sense of place, she agrees, but also adds that ‘I get a lot of influences from online’. So on the one hand, she finds support and inspiration from the ‘very small amount of musicians’ that form the local music scene. And on the other, she has grown up listening to people like Taylor Swift, Shania Twain, Sara Bareilles, and Rachel Platten. It is this dual aspect that seems to have played an important part in her development as a singer-songwriter, drawing on both the local and the global for her country-pop sound.

As she lists off her musical inspirations, she makes a point of adding that her net stretches much wider than just a few individual artists:

‘I like singer-songwriters that play piano. That just seems to be something I really like as well. It’s more the gentle side of things rather than big bands. I like to keep things as minimal as possible. I don’t know whether that’s because my ears prefer it or – I don’t know – but I don’t tend to listen to a lot of modern pop stuff. It tends to be more country or storytelling through songwriting. I think, for me, it’s more about individual songs that inspire me than people’.

Being an introvert, it is perhaps no surprise to find her musical preferences reflecting a marked sensitivity. It is something to which I can relate. So it doesn’t come as a shock to find that she gravitates towards the lyrics of a song:

‘I’m definitely a lyric writer. That’s definitely my favourite part of writing songs…. Growing up, I always wrote poems and just little things that I had in my head, little rhyming patterns…. I don’t know where that’s come from – whether it’s just sort of inspired by music – but it’s something that grew as I got older. I was like, ‘Oh, maybe I should try writing songs’. I wrote my first one and thought, ‘Hmm, maybe I’ll write another’. It wasn’t something where I thought, ‘I’m going to be a songwriter’. It just grew by itself, and I’m glad it did really, because if I didn’t do it that way it would have been forced’.

With such an emphasis on the lyrics, it perhaps makes sense that country music is where she has found her home. But like many of her fellow female country artists breaking through at present, she doesn’t feel tied to a generic formula. One only needs to check out her Sunday Acoustics on YouTube to see that she draws from a much bigger pool of influences. What made her start this semi-regular online feature?

‘It was a way to push myself to learn new songs, how other people write, learning lyrics fast…, pushing my playing as well, just being able to pick up things. It really did help. You’d probably see a difference [between] the start of the year on my guitar and now on some of the covers. [I’ve also learnt] how to mix, how to edit, those sorts of things…. But it’s been really fun, and the audience have been so supportive. Even when I’ve not been posting, people have still been subscribing and that’s been amazing to know that all that I’ve done in the last year has led to that. So I hope that I can give back to those people who have recently subscribed very soon with more videos to show that their support hasn’t gone unnoticed.’

It is fair to say that Cale doesn’t rest on her laurels. She is always looking to improve. Listening to her set earlier in the day, it was evident to see the effect that such a commitment to self-development is having on her music. And it seems that she is starting to reap the rewards of this hard work in other ways too. Adding to a growing list of commitments is an ambassadorial role with Belles & Gals, as well as a theatre tour later in the year. How does she feel about become an ambassador for female country music in the UK?

‘They have just been an incredible organisation from day one and have supported me for such a long time. I felt like it was a way that I could work with them and say thank you for all their support and hard work over the last few years…. People come from far and wide for UK country music and I just feel so privileged to be part of that group of people. To be able to say that I’m an ambassador is like a big step for me so hopefully, in the future, with the gigs they put on and the promotion with them, working alongside them, I think the next year is going to be really fun and exciting.’

The sincere gratitude she has as she speaks these words leaves a lasting impression. I get a sense that she still can’t quite believe that it’s happened. Once it’s sunk in however, there is no doubt that she is going to take such a role seriously alongside a burgeoning acting career.

In August, she begins a three month UK tour with Eye of the Storm, ‘a sort of country musical’, as she describes it, produced by Theatr na nÓg. As she explains, the music for it was written by Amy Wadge, with Lisa Wright also having a hand in the soundtrack. Considering the former has worked with the likes of Kacey Musgraves and Ed Sheeran, it is understandable that Cale took the opportunity to have a writing session with her. It seems that theatre has opened up opportunities for her music career. No doubt her music will open up opportunities for her acting career too. Does she envisage doing both, as Wright has chosen to do?

‘I don’t know where the acting’s going to go, I don’t know where the music’s going to go, but I hope that I still get to do them both at this point’

Does she think that doing both is perhaps the most feasible option for an independent artist like herself these days, particularly from a financial point of view?

‘It has been [helpful] up until now. Obviously you can’t guarantee any of the work that you get whether as a musician or an actor. [But up] until now[they’ve] worked alongside each other and the timing has been great because I didn’t have much booked in for August to October so I was able to say yes to the theatre. And I can remember that, if I’m not acting that much, then I can book in a few more gigs depending on what’s happening…. It can get difficult sometimes to juggle both, especially being self-employed. It’s difficult to get mortgages and that sort of boring stuff. There are times where I do get tempted to get a job, earn some decent money, because there isn’t masses of money within the industry unless you’re constantly working or a bit further up – whether you’re signed or with an agent or whatever – so it can get difficult. And there have been moments where I’ve thought I might pack it all in or just do music or just do acting. And then I come back to it and I really love what I do. I don’t think I’d change that. So it’s a case of digging deep and pushing through the difficult times until I sort of come out somewhere.’

Gentleness, mixed with a gritty determination. Add in a large helping of talent and a decent slice of maturity and she has all the ingredients she needs to carve out a successful career in an oft-uncertain, sometimes ruthless industry.

In one sense, I wonder whether she hasn’t already left her mark. Success isn’t always measured in pounds or followers, No.1 hits or likes. Given our conversation is happening in Mental Health Awareness Week, I end by asking her about her journey through anorexia. It is an experience that she captures so honestly in her song ‘Mirror Mirror’.

 ‘So I wrote that song when I first started writing…. I had [anorexia] from when I was 15 years old and it was something that maybe… started before then, but that was like the peak of when I was really ill. I think that song was a real personal triumph of like ‘This is what I am’. And I can remind myself that things can get better, that I’ve got this far, and I can push through the difficult times. And as soon as I’d written it and recorded it and obviously sung it a few times at gigs, it sort of felt like it was no longer mine, that it was more like for other people who were going through that journey and, I think, so many people after gigs have come up to me and said…, ‘My daughter’s got anorexia’ or ‘My partner’s got anorexia’. Or personally people will say, ‘I’ve had anorexia for sixty years and I’ve never told anybody’. It really does bring it to the surface: that body image is an issue and it’s something that we can’t shy away from and we need to talk about it. People can die from this. It’s not something that you can just get rid of. It’s not an attention-seeking thing. It’s a real deal and I think if it’s not taken seriously then it can backfire on some people, and I was one of the fortunate ones that had help when I needed it. It’s so important for people to talk about it so they can get the help they need and that’s why I put it out there and tried to push it as far as I could into the world. It’s one of those songs that when I sing it now I almost, it reminds me of the girl that I was but that doesn’t feel like me, if that makes any sense at all.’

It makes perfect sense. And it brings us full circle. Back to that caring and compassionate person whose fierce consideration of others has not gone unnoticed, by either me or, I suspect, those around her. Rosey Cale has the potential to make a significant impact on the world. In one sense, she already has, not least through her music. After spending but short time in her company, my message to her is simple. Keep inspiring. Keep encouraging.

Click here to visit Rosey’s website.

Originally written for Building Our Own Nashville.

Featured Image (C) Rosey Cale

Orpheus Descending – Theatr Clwyd

The set design may be far more sedate than in her last production, Home, I’m Darling. But the cast assembled by director Tamara Harvey for her latest offering Orpheus Descending spark off one another with electrifying chemistry. One wonders what she does during the rehearsal process that nurtures such strong unity among cast members, and produces such creative energy that then flows out on stage, with amazing results.

In this adaptation of one of Tennessee Williams’ lesser-known plays, Lady and Val might be advertised as the two main characters. But it is very much an ensemble piece, with the most absorbing scenes being those in which a whole host of players feature. Spread across the stage, the dialogue zips from one to another, bouncing around like an entertaining ball game. The script is so sharp and punchy. And the dialect coaching given by Penny Dyer and Nick Trumble only enhances it further. It makes for a very immersive play – the protrusion of the stage to the front row, and the use of the aisles either side of the auditorium, intensifying this experience.

Not to say that there aren’t some amazing individual performances however. Laura Jane Matthewson brings such a delightful humour to her character Dolly Hamma that her mere presence on stage brought a smile to my face. Seth Numrich’s turn as traveller and musician Val is full of charisma. His guitar skills might not be up there with Val’s hero Lead Belly, but Numrich nevertheless has the unenviable ability to own a stage without ever overshadowing his fellow cast members. He is an excellent match for Hattie Morahan, playing opposite him as Lady. Morahan brings a powerful sense of independence to the role that is both frustrated by her marriage to Jabe (Mark Meadows) and teased out through her developing romance with Val. Morahan’s performance grows steadily throughout the play, becoming one that, in many ways, defines the second half.

I reserve special praise for Jemima Rooper, who is nothing short of excellent as Carol Cutrere. The rebel, the rouser; the misfit and the mistress in this portrait of small-town life, Cutrere is such a fascinating character. She is made so by Rooper, who grants her such a vast expanse of unashamed openness that I could only wonder at how Rooper manages to retain a slight air of mystery about her. Yet she does, in spite of her character’s exhibitionism; there remains a hidden depth to her even as her vulnerability and brokenness are so apparent. If Morahan is the star of the second half, Rooper is most certainly the star of the first.

Tamara Harvey’s production makes you wonder why Orpheus Descending has not been produced more regularly. It is perhaps because Harvey has the ability to nurture, and the skill to mine, the best of performances from her actors. In other hands, perhaps it would not be as gripping or as interesting. But it is here, largely because of the evident chemistry that exists between the cast members. One can only credit Harvey with developing that. And it is this which draws out the extra quality that sees such great individual performances, which combine beautifully to create such an excellent overall production.

Originally written for Get the Chance on 28th April 2019.

Featured Image (C) Theatr Clwyd

Wild Rose – Film

Out now on general release in cinemas around the UK, I was lucky enough to see a preview of Wild Rose at C2C back in March. I got so emotionally caught up in it – with tears and laughter in equal measure – that I immediately pencilled in a second viewing at my local cinema on the day of its official release. Although not quite as affecting this time around, it nevertheless had me celebrating it, not just as a film with country music at its heart, but as a film that will surely become a classic of British cinema too.

One of the highlights of Wild Rose is the performance of its lead, Jessie Buckley. She is a force of nature as single mother Rose-Lyn Harlan, a Glaswegian whose dream is to make it as a country singer in Nashville. Fresh out of jail, she is determined to pursue her lifelong dream. But achieving it is not going to be easy. Writer Nicole Taylor perfectly plots her circumstances out through the opening few minutes, giving us a real insight into the reality of her situation. But the subsequent script is far from straight forward, offering a few surprise twists and turns as we follow Rose-Lyn on a journey that is as much about finding herself as reaching her goal. Buckley is dynamic and ruthless in the role; the reckless and passionate nature of her character is performed with such vigour by the Irish-born actress that the film becomes an engaging watch. Never has an actress seemed more suited to a role.

The soundtrack to this film is pitched to perfection. Composer and music producer Jack Arnold has done an outstanding job in picking a selection of country songs that finely compliment the on screen action. A mix of covers and originals – most sung by Buckley herself – add real value to the narrative. The diegetic voice of Buckley is never in doubt: Rose-Lyn really does have talent. The scene where she films herself singing ‘Peace in This House’ is a particularly spine-tingling moment in which her vocals truly shine bright. And they come to be fully accomplished in the final scene, during which she sings ‘Glasgow’ – a performance that is truly captivating, as it is inspiring.

The social realist aesthetic will undoubtedly draw comparisons with the films of Ken Loach. But it also has much in common with classics such as Billy Elliott and The Full Monty. It is very much rooted in its setting of a working-class council estate whilst having a fantastic element that elevates it above kitchen sink drama without ever ascending into cheesiness. It is a gritty yet uplifting tale; a narrative laced with hope and tempered with despair. It is a story not just about chasing your dreams in spite of the obstacles; at its centre, it is about relationships, particularly that of mother and daughter. Here, mum Marion is played by Julie Walters, who delivers an arresting performance. Together, she and Buckley are simply spell-binding.

Whether a country fan or not, Wild Rose is a film worth seeing. There may be some added bonuses for those who are – a brief but beautiful cameo from Ashley McBryde, for instance, will probably add much greater emotional weight to the scene for those who have prior knowledge of her – but for the average cinema goer, there is still plenty to love about this film. There is a real depth to the dialogue, immense beauty in some of the shots, and the performances of the cast are simply terrific. This is a music film that really works. And for me, it works better than another recent film with country music at its heart. I think it’s time for Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga to step aside. A new star is born. Her name is Jessie Buckley. And the film is Wild Rose.

Originally written for Building Our Own Nashville.

CC Smugglers – How High Tour

What a melting pot of genres CC Smugglers are. Bubbling over during their red-hot set at Manchester’s Soup Kitchen were sounds as diverse as jazz, country, funk, swing, soul, folk, and blues. It was like a hoedown one minute, a jazz club the next. There really is something for everyone with this band. And you’d be hard pressed to leave their gig without a smile on your face. A highly entertaining evening.

Supporting the guys on this leg of their How High tour was Sam Jefferson, a blues musician from Manchester. He set the mood beautifully with a mixture of original songs and nice covers from the likes of Woody Guthrie and Muddy Waters. He has clearly spent much time soaking up the music of these early pioneers; his guitar playing in particular is wonderfully evocative of their era. Standout tracks from his half hour set included Mademoiselle From Armentieres (with some lovely fingerpicking going on) and Guthrie’s Hard Travellin’.

The headliners seemed incredibly relaxed pre-show, lead singer Richie Prynne wandering through the audience some ten minutes before curtain up as casual as you like. But when he came out on stage after a drum-busting intro, the unassuming hooded gentleman had transformed into an effervescent and energetic entertainer. Kicking off with the upbeat, Gospel-inspired Good Day and the funky, disco-tinged Rhythm, Prynne then strapped on his acoustic guitar and Sam Barrett brought out his fiddle to perform the lively Country & Western number Lydia. They then took things down a notch or two with the sensuous blues of Baker St 205, Barrett’s guitar playing being particularly worthy of note here.

After such a high-spirited start, Prynne paused for a proper introduction, in which he not only welcomed the audience but his parents too. Their presence gave him the perfect lead in to Well Well Well, which was written, Prynne explained, following a conversation with his father before he went in for major heart surgery. It gave this indie/folk song an added poignancy that slightly deceived its toe-tapping nature. Whisky made sure the toe-tapping continued, with Barrett even walking through the audience, fiddle in hand, to encourage some bolder dance moves. This, before some of the band left the stage as Prynne gave the most moving performance of the evening. Accompanied by only fiddle and keys, he gave a beautiful rendition of Life is a Wave, a song dedicated to his uncle.

Family appears to be at the heart of Richie Prynne’s life. He doesn’t seem to mind including them in his set. But it is a different kettle of fish when it comes to himself. Only with encouragement from his band has he recorded his more personal songs. And it was clear both before and after One More Night that he is uncomfortable performing them. Not dwelling on this song too much, the band very quickly went into the title song of their brand new album How High. Prynne then shared their painful experience with Pledge Music, the crowdfunding platform having effectively robbed them of £17000. Clearly still raw – evidenced in their song Jog On – they are nevertheless determined not to let it eat them up, Grumpy and Smiling looking on the positive side.

Ryan Thomas brought a delightful touch of pedal steel to the laid back Sweetheart before it was Prynne’s turn to go into the audience, dancing enthusiastically with several crowd members as the band pulled out all the swinging, rocking and boogying stops. Dirty Money was an excuse to have another swipe at Pledge before their main set ended with the country-fuelled All Night Long.

The Smugglers effectively ended with three encores. The first, Working Man, really got the crowd going with its Irish folk sound. Gone So Long then brought a whole load of Motown onto the scene. Finally, the whole band clambered off the stage and came and stood in the middle of the audience to play Standing on the Street. It was fabulous to witness this seemingly impromptu performance, off mic; to be immersed in the moment and see so much joy on the faces of those huddled around the six of them; and strangely odd to see some audience members on stage, looking down on them as they finished off in style. One of the most unique and satisfying endings to a show I think I’ve ever seen.

Originally written for Building Our Own Nashville.

Enid a Lucy – S4C

Writer Siwan Jones blends social realism and surrealist comedy in the most delightful way in Enid a Lucy. The S4C mini-series, which came to a rather abrupt end on Sunday night, made for an entertaining and enjoyable drama. Termed the ‘Welsh Thelma and Louise’ by some news outlets prior to broadcast, Eiry Thomas and Mabli Jên Eustace certainly provide plenty of laughs as the two leads whose offbeat road trip takes them from Llanelli to London via the most unconventional of routes.

The drama begins on a modest housing estate in Llanelli where we meet next door neighbours Enid (Thomas) and Lucy (Jên). Enid is a piano teacher whose home is neat and tidy, fitted with mod cons and well lit. Meanwhile, Lucy lives in a dark, dank and messy space. The drained colour palette of the cinematography, as well as the use of handheld camera, gives the impression that this is going to be a gritty, class-based drama. The introduction of Lucy’s drunken and abusive boyfriend Denfer (Steffan Cennydd), in contrast with the genteel and traditional images of the Mother’s Union that Enid is involved in, only serves to underline the divide that exists between them. Yet early indications that this is going to be a serious piece of realist drama are confounded by the end of the first episode when Enid turns getaway driver for Lucy in order to escape the hapless Denfer and his buffoon of an uncle, Sid (Nicholas McGaughey). What follows is a random and raucous cat-and-mouse chase across the country as the men seek to reclaim a holdall containing drugs and a gun from Lucy, who is determined to use the contents in order to make a better life for her and her baby.

Siwan Jones’ script plays like a melody that is pitched just below hard-hitting but doesn’t quite decrescendo into absolute farce. It manages to deal with some big issues, such as childlessness and mental health, but these never feel forced. Neither are they allowed to consume the overall narrative, Jones ensuring that the escapades of Enid and Lucy are filled with much hilarity and randomness. This includes perhaps the most comical scene of the series, where two farmers that they end up staying with accidently take some of the drugs in the holdall. Actors Ifan Huw Dafydd and Rhodri Evan really let loose their inner zombie to produce a very funny scene. It borders on the ridiculous but never descends into the realms of the unbelievable. It is this kind of accurate measurement which Jones must be applauded for in the writing of Enid a Lucy.

My only bone of contention with this drama was the finale. It was as if a timer had suddenly gone off with five minutes to go and all the loose ends had to be tied up tout suite. It left me feeling rather out-of-kilter; that such a well-paced journey should end so abruptly. Although not quite on the same level as the conclusion to BBC1’s The Replacement (2017), it nevertheless conjured up similar feelings. It is a shame because, otherwise, Enid a Lucy is a great drama, with particularly notable performances from Eiry Thomas and Mabli Jên Eustace. Thomas, in particular, slips into her character with ease here; in contrast to her over-exaggerated performance as the detective in Keeping Faith, she is completely believable as Enid. She is a joy to watch, especially during her exchanges with Eustace: the two bounce off one another wonderfully.

It is great to see S4C, via producers Boom Cymru, giving a prime-time platform to female writers at the start of 2019. Both Fflur Dafydd (35 Awr) and now Siwan Jones have provided Welsh audiences with some quality TV drama already this year. Enid a Lucy may have only received a short run, but it was fun whilst it lasted. Its slightly left-field style follows on from some of Jones’ previous work – not least 2011’s Alys – but it still feels highly original. It would have been great to have spent longer with these characters. Despite its rather hasty end though, Enid a Lucy still manages to thoroughly entertain.

Originally written for Get the Chance.

Featured Image (C) S4C

Elles Bailey – Road I Call Home

After her critically-acclaimed debut album Wildfire, the pressure must have been on Elles Bailey with her follow up. But she exceeds even the highest of expectations on Road I Call Home, a record that is nothing short of phenomenal. Much more personal than her first, yet no less genre-spanning, Road I Call Home is, in her own words, “a year’s snapshot of being on the road”. Indeed, there is a real sense that the album takes you on a journey, through a soundscape that is a patchwork of vivid colour even as it refuses to be clearly defined. It is a melodious mountain that makes for a rather pleasurable climb.

The ascent begins at a reasonably gentle pace with ‘Hell or High Water’, a song whose intro steadily rises into a set of increasingly rousing verses interspersed with a simple but gorgeously-sung chorus. It then enters slightly rougher terrain with ‘Wild Wild West’, an upbeat Southern rock number that includes the lyrics ‘Come as you are to the land of milk and honey/ But you ain’t leaving with your soul’. This contrast between light and dark, hope and despair, becomes a bit of a theme on Road I Call Home.

‘Deeper’ and ‘What’s the Matter with You’ take us into gospel territory. The electric organ brings a spark of colour to two tracks that operate at a fairly slow tempo. This allows Bailey’s voice to come to the forefront, a slight rasp accompanying her otherwise smooth vocals. ‘Medicine Man’ then returns us to the land of rock where the electric guitar is the star of the show. The narrative is so beautifully drawn by the lyrics, but the electric guitar helps bring it to life, teasing out some truly evocative images that allow the listener to inhabit the song.

We are now firmly following in Bailey’s footsteps, perhaps reaching the summit of an (un)conscious aim. To celebrate, the title track offers a toe-tapping, hand clapping beat. It is full of energy, even as it hints at the potential for implosion: “My soul’s on fire but my body’s holding on”. ‘Road I Call Home’ is perhaps the most personal epithet of Bailey’s life yet.

After the blues-fuelled ballad ‘Foolish Hearts’, ‘Help Somebody’ and ‘Little Piece of Heaven’ feel like the descent back down underneath a faintly warm and hazy sunrise. There is something quietly uplifting about both of these tracks. They offer a kind of emotional release that leads us nicely into ‘Miss Me When I’m Gone’. With a slightly more traditional country sound, this lovesong offers none of the schmaltz of its pop counterparts. Instead, its sincerity feels tinged with irony.

Final track ‘Light in the Distance’ is pure soul. The journey ends with a dip into the pool of tradition, Bailey drawing inspiration from the greats of the past, her own hero, Janis Joplin, among them. It is a beautiful song with which to finish – the reflection at the journey’s end. And what a journey Road I Call Home is – through a musical landscape of soulful sounds and honest lyrics. Bailey has managed to do the seemingly impossible and top her first album. Road I Call Home is a glorious record that deserves repeated listening.

Originally written for Building Our Own Nashville.

Merched Caerdydd / Nos Sadwrn o Hyd – Theatr Genedlaethol Cymru (using the Sibrwd app)

Take four actors, three chairs, three sets of neon lights, and one stage, and what do you get? Two new plays conceived for the 2018 National Eisteddfod now touring the country with Theatr Genedlaethol Cymru (TGC). Both Merched Caerdydd and Nos Sadwrn o Hyd are making their way from North to South, beginning in Mold and ending where they are set – in Cardiff. And thanks to TGC’s Sibrwd app, it could be said that these are the most accessible Welsh-language plays yet.

The Sibrwd app is a simple concept, designed to guide non-Welsh speakers and Welsh learners through the performance. Until now, it has provided audio synopses during plays, to help those not fluent in the language understand the gist of the narrative being played out on stage. When I arrive for this tour however, the app has undergone a significant change. For the first time, TGC, and the app’s operator Chris Harris, are providing audiences with a full translation of the dialogue. Think surtitles at the opera but on your phone. Ingenious you might think. And to some extent it works. But I’m not entirely convinced.

The main problem that I encountered was being drawn away from the action on stage in order to understand some of the dialogue being spoken. As a Welsh learner whose proficiency level floats somewhere between Intermediate and Advanced, this wasn’t as much of a problem as it could have been. I was able to grasp a general understanding of the narrative and the characters’ stories without needing to refer to the app too much. However, if I wanted to understand a particular word or phrase, it became difficult not to disengage from the play in order to seek out the translation amongst the bulk of text being shown on my screen. In one sense, I can see how this would suit a non-Welsh speaker or beginner better – they could easily follow along and not miss a trick. The transitions between each piece of dialogue on the app flowed seamlessly. The problem is that they would then be likely to miss out on one of the primary thrills of theatre: live performance. It is as much about the action on stage as it is about the dialogue being spoken. What both Merched Caerdydd and Nos Sadwrn o Hyd have are strong, powerful and engaging performances by a hugely talented cast. They bring such immersive and intimate details to their characters through their physicality and movement as well as their emotion and vocals. But this could be missed if one is concentrating too much on reading in English what is being said ‘yn Gymraeg’.

This balance between the aural and the visual is a tricky one to maintain when one of those requires translation. The more translation needed, the harder it becomes to maintain a kind of equilibrium. Without prior experience of the app in its audio descriptive form, I cannot say with any confidence which style is better to enable non-speaking and/or learning audiences to engage most fully in Welsh-language theatre. I suspect that from my own position, an audio option would be preferable (particularly if it offers a synopsis, rather than the whole script). I could then maintain my focus on the stage rather than being drawn down to look at my screen. The main benefit to this, in my opinion, would be that you remain engaged in the production as a whole. To be so engrossed in the stories being told by writers Catrin Dafydd (Merched Caerdydd) and Roger Williams (Nos Sadwrn o Hyd) respectively is to be made more open to being challenged and moved by their messages; more vulnerable to empathy and emotion.

Both Merched Caerdydd and Nos Sadwrn o Hyd are fascinating pieces of theatre. Whilst the former focuses on three women and the significant choices that they have to make at an important juncture in their lives, the latter concentrates its attention on Lee, a gay man whose blossoming relationship is disturbed by an act of violence that threatens his life. Performed as a series of monologues (interweaving in the case of Merched Caerdydd), the simple set and subtle use of lighting and sound help plunge the audience into the increasingly messy and fraught situations of the characters’ lives. We cannot help but become entangled in their relational quandaries and bodily vulnerabilities. The sharp focus of Merched Caerdydd on sex, love and relationships feels very relevant, particularly with its themes of control and power. Meanwhile, the mixture of humour and heartbreak, sweetness and violence found in Nos Sadwrn o Hyd, portrayed so eloquently by Sion Ifans, makes for a fraught and funny hour. It cannot be underestimated how important – needed – these stories are.

Despite them being unrelated, both Dafydd’ and Williams’ plays seem to complement one another well. They are but a small snapshot of the strength and depth of talent coming through in Welsh-language playwriting. I find it interesting that both feel somehow connected to their own language and place – the feeling that these would not have come out of, or would at least have been conceived differently in, an Anglicised context. To give non-Welsh speakers and learners the opportunity to access and engage with these worlds through the Sibrwd app then feels important.

In its current form, Sibrwd enables that to an extent. What is exciting about the app is that it remains in the relatively early stages of its development. Theatr Genedlaethol Cymru should be commended for testing and experimenting with live audiences and being genuinely open to their feedback. Give it time, and give it chance, and I think that this app will become a significant tool, not least in opening up Welsh-language plays to a wider and broader audience. That can only be a good thing for plays like Merched Caerdydd and Nos Sadwrn o Hyd. For these are stories that need to be told, and experienced by as many people as possible.

Originally written for Get the Chance as a paid-for article.

Featured Image (C) Theatr Genedlaethol Cymru

 

Interview with Jade Helliwell

I’m sat on a bench outside The O2 Arena in London on day 2 of the C2C Festival. Beside me sits Jade Helliwell, whose festival is now a wrap. After performing an acoustic set on Friday afternoon, and fresh from a full band set today, she is now wrapped warmly in a thick and fluffy green coat, protected against the cold wind blowing rather strongly in our direction. She is the northerner who has come prepared. I, on the other hand, in my thin jacket and light summery trousers, am the northerner with much still to learn.

Her C2C experience has gone “really well”, which is more than can be said for my choice of clothing. “It’s been a long weekend…. [But] it was fun”. The fact that she describes her full band set as having “a party vibe” suggests as much. But her positive energy suggests that the weekend could go on a bit longer. You can tell that she’s enjoyed herself and is on a high.

Sadly, I didn’t get to see her with a full band. But I did make it to her acoustic set the previous day, which was “a bit more stripped back. People can get more of the songwriting aspect of it and the lyrics”. I completely agree. I was struck by the ability to hear the craft that had gone into her songs, particularly from a lyrical perspective. It made me appreciate her talents as a writer as well as a musician. Is there a particular process she follows when crafting her songs?

“It changes to be honest. A lot of the time I’ll start with an idea that’s a lyric, like a hook or chorus idea, and I’ll basically tie a song around that. And sometimes I might have a lyric and I know it’s not a hook but I want to work that in and I’ll build a song around that…. And sometimes I’ll just have a melody in my head and I don’t know what the song’s going to be about but I just like it and I’ll work with that sound”.

She also mentions the difference in writing on your own and co-writing. She expands on this by saying that the latter “brings ideas out that you wouldn’t have had yourself or puts a different spin on an idea that you’ve had”. In today’s divisive society, this sounds like something we could learn from. Which does she prefer?

“I’d not done much co-writing up until… two years ago, and then I started doing more and more… because I think it just pulls out things in you that you didn’t realise – ideas that you wouldn’t have had yourself but, in conversation before writing, someone might say, ‘That’s interesting. Why don’t we write about that?’ I love that, so… I’m hoping to do a lot more of it throughout the year”.

One of her most recent collaborators has been fellow northerner Jess Thristan. Although she admits that “I always thought she was from London, because I see her, she’s down here all the time”. It was only through messaging each other that Jade found out that “we actually live twenty minutes away from each other up north. I was like, ‘This is an excuse to write [with her] all the time’”.

It sounds like a rare occurrence, to find a fellow country musician within fairly close range of another in the north. Particularly as the country music scene in the UK still feels rather London-centric at present. Does she think that?

“I do think it’s something that needs to grow a bit more up north. I’m quite lucky that I’m quite close to Manchester, about forty minutes away, and Manchester’s a really good scene for country music at the moment. If that can just transfer a little bit up to Leeds and into Wales – spread a little more – that would be great”.

One such event which suggests that the tide might be turning is the very first Belles & Gals showcase in Manchester, which Jade is headlining. Taking place on Good Friday, it will also feature Hannah Paris and Shannon Hynes. She confesses that it’s “a big honour” to be asked to headline the show. “I’ve heard lots of people say they’re coming and I’ve been thinking about set lists and what I want to sing so I’m really excited”. Indeed, the excitement with which she talks about it is palpable, even as I detect a touch of nervousness in her voice. But I put this is down to the responsibility that she feels in headlining the show. Quietly, she confides, “I think I’m going to do alright”.

I ask how important Belles & Gals are for championing female country artists. Although she doesn’t feel like it’s as much of a problem in the UK as it is in the US, she still thinks that it’s “great” that they are supporting females and shedding a light on the gender imbalance within the music industry. It is encouraging to hear that Helliwell hasn’t experienced any discrimination herself as a female: “I’ve never felt like that’s the reason why I’ve not got on the bill or a gig or anything”. It is also encouraging to hear that her journey into country music has been as a result of hearing female country musicians:

“I grew up not really listening to country. I listened to a little bit and knew some Dolly Parton…, and my mum would play Shania Twain when I was younger, but that was like the extent of my country knowledge, until I got to 16… and listened to Taylor Swift’s first album. And then it was on YouTube, all the recommended videos and stuff, people like Carrie Underwood and Kellie Pickler. I sort of listened to these people I’d never heard of before and was like, ‘This is amazing’, so I listened to more and more”.

It was a trip to Nashville which “cemented it”: “I was like…, ‘This is what I want to be singing. This is my sound’”. It is a sound that has been influenced since by artists like Kelsea Ballerini, Danielle Bradbery, and Maren Morris. As a result, her music has taken on a distinctly pop element. It can be heard on both her latest EP Infatuation, and her latest single Stormchaser. She admits that this was a “conscious decision”: “I want people to have a good time listening to my music and it’s upbeat”. Any comparisons with Carrie Underwood are simply coincidental, though “I’ll take that. That’s a great compliment”.

Her new single Stormchaser has only been out a day when we speak. But it has already had a “great response”. She explains how the song came about: from “an idea that Jason [Tucker] started with a writer called Daisy Davies about chasing storms being similar to chasing people who are bad for you, or jobs that are bad for you – any sort of relationship”. Interestingly, she developed it with Jason and fellow writer Luke Thomas out in Nashville – co-writing is clearly her new forte. And if the results are this good, then who can blame her for wanting to do more.

She offers the usual promotional spiel that the single is available on Spotify, to stream and download online. I take this as an opportunity to ask her how she feels about the current climate, where streaming for free is fast becoming the default, and how she balances this with being a full-time musician.

She admits that she’s “fairly new” to the whole thing, as “I’ve always been a CD girl myself”. She recognises the advantages of her music being easily accessible for people who may come across her music, like her set, and then want to hear more. But she also admits that “it can be stressful on the financial side of things… when you are self-funded and full-time and… still relatively early in my career”.

It comes back around to that bridging of a gap that Katy Hurt has identified: between listening to an artist and actually supporting them. Jade sees it as a simple, linear progression:

“I think it starts out with them listening to your music and if they like it then that support comes next. I’ve had lots of people listen to my music, like it, follow it, and then they’ll come to a gig and that’s probably where that gap can be bridged. Yeah, they’ll listen to you on Spotify but they’ll also come out and see you play and buy your physical CDs… or buy your t-shirts…, introduce your music to their friends and try and get their friends involved and I think that’s more the support of the artist”.

This seems to shift the emphasis more onto live music and live performance. It makes something like the Belles & Gals showcases that much more important. If this is where musicians are having to turn to make their money, then music venues need support now more than ever.

It is getting cold. At least, for me it is. Whilst I am now seriously having to force myself to stop shaking, Jade seems comfortable enough to carry on chatting some more. Sadly, not even her positive energy can prevent me from wrapping up the interview by asking one final question: What else does 2019 hold for her?

 “I’ve just been announced to play at Buckles & Boots in May…. I’m going to be on the Main Stage on the Sunday so I’m hoping to take the band with me again and… hopefully get that party vibe on”.

Hopefully by May it will have warmed up. If not, then I’m sure that party vibe will encourage dancing enough to ensure that we’re not cold for long. I might take a leaf out of Jade’s book anyway and go prepared with much warmer attire than today. Before then though, there is the Belles & Gals showcase, which thankfully, will be indoors. And indoors is where I’m heading next. Meanwhile, for Jade, she’s off to get some well-earned rest.

Originally written for Building Our Own Nashville.

Featured Image (C) Jade Helliwell

Series Review, 35 Awr, S4C

Exasperated by BBC1 Wales’ Pitching In? Thankfully, it is now the exception to the rule when it comes to contemporary Welsh television drama. What would have once been seen as a godsend – alleviating the problem of non-representation, if only briefly – is now seen as an affront to the people of Wales. We’re better than this. The last few years has seen an explosion of Welsh drama. Not only in the number of series’, but in the quality of these series’ too. From Hinterland to Bang, Parch to Keeping Faith, there has never been a better time for Welsh-set, Welsh-made drama. A Golden Age, as I’ve been inclined to call it.

At the start of 2019, there is another drama to be added to this growing roster: 35 Awr. Fflur Dafydd’s new series sees a 12-person jury assemble after a court case to consider their verdict. But finding the defendant guilty or not guilty of murder proves far less straight-forward than some were expecting. And when it comes to light that they could be in danger if allowed home, they are taken to a local hotel for their protection, until they can come to a decision. But not all is as it seems.

Across this 8-part series, the lives of these characters begin to slowly, tentatively, and intriguingly unfold. As they do, Dafydd begins to entangle them in a dark and sinister web. Connections are made, alliances formed; the power play between the different characters is always fascinating, never simple. The game of poker in episode three becomes the perfect metaphor for this psychological murder mystery. Even where their conversations seem mundane, or rather superfluous, one need only dig a little deeper, beneath the surface, to discover the ulterior motives, selfish motivations, and hidden desires at play. These aren’t always obvious at first. Which is what keeps the drama interesting. Dafydd slowly feeds us with tit-bits of information; now and again she surprises us with a big reveal. Such revelations come at steady intervals throughout; gradually increasing the tension, which bubbles gently until the final episode when it finally boils over, with pulsating twists and numerous turns.

It is the intimate characterisation which makes Fflur Dafydd’s scripts always so enjoyable. To see the characters of 35 Awr brought to life in such fine detail, and with such fascinating complexity, by the ensemble cast was a real treat. From the awful masculinity of Carwyn Jones’ Peredur to the nonchalant behaviour of Gillian Elisa’s Val (to name but two), Dafydd succeeds in creating a memorable set of well-rounded characters that become instantly recognisable long after the programme is over. Indeed, the excellent editing of Dafydd Hunt and the cinematography of Alwyn Hughes helps to give this drama a look that feels fresh and original even as it employs fairly standard techniques and tropes. This is no easy feat. Yet, somehow, they manage to do so; perhaps, in part, down to Dafydd’s original screenplay.

If you’re looking for a darker, more subversive murder mystery than your typical Agatha Christie, then 35 Awr should satisfy your needs. In fact, it should exceed them, for it is also much more than that. Part psychological thriller, part crime drama; it contains as much humour as it does menace. Writer Fflur Dafydd has assembled a fine cast of characters whose personal lives slowly seep out and intertwine with one another, creating a gripping narrative which culminates in a superbly arresting final episode. This is what great Welsh drama is. It is no longer defined by the likes of Pitching In. Pitching In is now the exception. Fflur Dafydd’s 35 Awr represents the rule.

Click here to watch the series.

Originally written for Get the Chance.

Featured Image (C) S4C