I'm not too sure how it awoke inside my head, but while reading Clive James' essay about "The Australian Poetic Republic" I thought of Keith Harrison. And he has a website (why the hell didn't I think of this before?)
Pirra Homestead, Lara, around 1996. The theatre room at the bottom of the garden is full and dusty. As Geoff D'Ombrain calls various people up on stage the lights don't change, and only the vague animal sounds from outside seep in sometimes, accompanies by the whoooo of the wind.
I too am called up on stage, to read from my little sixteen year old's collection of goaty poetry. I will never forget that on those occasions the audience members thanked me for sharing.
Jenny danced too at the theatre, and despite her youth (compared to Geoff at least) I marvelled at how the two of them fit together so perfectly, and how lucky she was. He was (I hope he still is!) a gentle man, beautifully crafted.
After the performances we'd go back to the homestead, and the sky would be darkening - the red orb sinking over the You Yangs. Candles would be lit, and we'd walk around the groaning tables, sampling home made cheese, bread, soup, and of course wine. Even I was allowed to drink a little. Those nights were never difficult. I never felt then what I felt today at the meeting with 'the executive'. I didn't feel small then.
Sometimes Robert Drummond would be there, with great Beethoven-esque head of hair and his expressive hands. It was a wonderful community.
When everyone had settled in the room with the piano sometimes Geoff would bring out his flute and play, closing his eyes with feeling. Sometimes someone would play the piano (though never me) and he would sing.
Pirra Homestead - I didn't visit when I was in Geelong with Dad. And I can't quite explain why. What would I say? There seemed to be all that promise and nothing really came of it. It's the same kind of feeling I have when I think of visiting the Monea brothers - I played for 11 years and now what? There were aspects of that small town Geelong life that suited me. And these warm memories with their soft edges are perfect tonight.
I must start at least the first Thursday of the month readings again. Perhaps it would help.
Pirra Homestead, Lara, around 1996. The theatre room at the bottom of the garden is full and dusty. As Geoff D'Ombrain calls various people up on stage the lights don't change, and only the vague animal sounds from outside seep in sometimes, accompanies by the whoooo of the wind.
I too am called up on stage, to read from my little sixteen year old's collection of goaty poetry. I will never forget that on those occasions the audience members thanked me for sharing.
Jenny danced too at the theatre, and despite her youth (compared to Geoff at least) I marvelled at how the two of them fit together so perfectly, and how lucky she was. He was (I hope he still is!) a gentle man, beautifully crafted.
After the performances we'd go back to the homestead, and the sky would be darkening - the red orb sinking over the You Yangs. Candles would be lit, and we'd walk around the groaning tables, sampling home made cheese, bread, soup, and of course wine. Even I was allowed to drink a little. Those nights were never difficult. I never felt then what I felt today at the meeting with 'the executive'. I didn't feel small then.
Sometimes Robert Drummond would be there, with great Beethoven-esque head of hair and his expressive hands. It was a wonderful community.
When everyone had settled in the room with the piano sometimes Geoff would bring out his flute and play, closing his eyes with feeling. Sometimes someone would play the piano (though never me) and he would sing.
Pirra Homestead - I didn't visit when I was in Geelong with Dad. And I can't quite explain why. What would I say? There seemed to be all that promise and nothing really came of it. It's the same kind of feeling I have when I think of visiting the Monea brothers - I played for 11 years and now what? There were aspects of that small town Geelong life that suited me. And these warm memories with their soft edges are perfect tonight.
I must start at least the first Thursday of the month readings again. Perhaps it would help.
posted by BanAnna at 10/29/2009 05:33:00 am
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