Warning: this post contains pure unadulterated gushing
Katie Noonan has a rare and priceless gift
– a vocal talent which transports the listener to a higher realm, a piercing of
spirit and caressing of woes. Many singers can bring on the goosebumps, but
Noonan is one of only a few who can reach through air and space to minister to
your very soul.
I have seen Noonan live five times, 3 at
Tilley’s – 2 george and 1 elixir – once at The Street Theatre on her Songs of the Southern Skies tour with Karin Schaupp, and this Friday past at The Abbey,
just her with a keyboard sharing the last 2 decades of melody and tale written
in a marvelous Songbook.
My first experience of the magic that is
her voice was a rainy Canberra evening in 2000, having lined up outside Tilley’s
for their famed standing room tickets – the way those of us too late or too
lazy to book on time snuck our way in to gigs we last-minute-realised we needed
to see. I was trying not to lazily lean on the cake-cabinet when the first strains
of Holiday floated over the tightly
packed crowd, and something somewhere between spiritual and physical happened
inside my chest. This miracle of tone and emotion washed over me like a gift. I
was converted, sold, ready to inhale the beauty of her song.
Walking home that night, to my share house
a few blocks away, I was inspired to sing, to make music, to use voice and
instrument and words to commune with others and with the otherworldly. In
short, it was the most transcendent musical encounter of my life.
Fast-forward to 2013, a Friday night out at
Gold Creek in a sometimes wedding chapel, sometimes bar and restaurant, and
newly incarnated live music venue, and this sweet and beguiling woman once more
stole a piece of my spirit.
We arrived shortly after the doors opened
to snag a well-positioned table. Perching on stools to get pre-show dinner and
drinks out of the way, we laughed, cringed, and smiled at the comedic and
musical stylings of the accomplished yet awkward support act, Brian Campeau
whose musings on his trail of broken relationships verged occasionally in to
overshare. Unlike the dimly lit Tilley’s gigs of old, the latecomers to The
Abbey smatter themselves somewhat awkwardly along the sides of the room, and
gather around the bar. Finally Ms Noonan came on stage.
What followed was an hour and a half of
graceful vocals, effortless keys, humble and humorous crowd interaction, and
selfless sharing from one of the finest vocalists and songwriters this country
has had the honour to know. The show opened with a new song, Quiet Day, a call for time out from
decision-making and stress, a plea for a small precious break to watch the
world go by, and accept the gift of stillness.
The night flew by, with highlights from the
songlist including: Sweet One, an ode
to female friendship, co-penned with the marvelous Sia Fuller; Emperor’s Box, a tribute to her father’s
brave ongoing battle with Parkinson’s Disease; and, stunning renditions of
crowd favourites from the George days Special
Ones, Spawn and Breathe In Now, that final with choral
accompaniment from the audience. Brian Campeau joined Katie onstage for two
numbers which reminded us all of her incredible skills in harmony and blending,
their River Man was resplendent.
Another cover closed the show: the much overdone Hallelujah, was given the Noonan treatment. With
soaring ripples of vocal acrobatics which cannot have been as effortless as
they sounded, a sweet quietness descended as the crowd accompanied her final bars
with hushed repetition of the song’s last refrain.
For me, the absolute high-point of the
evening was a song from Noonan’s project with Circa, Love-Song-Circus. This collection of works emerged from a research
project undertaken by Noonan on the histories of Australia’s first convict
women. Janet’s song is sung to her baby-child, born and removed during her
incarceration and years of hard labour. This woman, whose “crime in the eyes of
the law/ was to lie in the bed of the man I adored”, caresses us with her love
for this baby, who must spend five years separated from mother’s side, but who
is swaddled in boundless love, and has given the gift of purpose and hope to
one condemned to long hopeless years. Snatched Sunday moments are the threads
of joy, and the steps counted each week until brief embraces are a rhythm of
long-time given a destination. A stunning combination of lyric, melody and
instrument, this piece captured this mother’s heart and drew barely stifled
sobs from my throat.
“With each breath we breathe/We survive a
little more/ Please stay strong without your mother’s touch/ If I could I’d
break every wall between you and I/ But I can’t let them drive me mad/Cause now
I have you to live for.”
Stepping out into the early autumn evening
chill, I was once more grateful for receiving the gift of Katie Noonan’s music,
her generosity in song and spirit. Air clearer, stars shining brighter, the
wonder of emerging into the world having experienced the fine and rare gift of
art.
