Hayley Westenra

by Hayley Westenra

  Table of Contents

  Title

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Introduction

  CHAPTER 1 KIWI AND PROUD OF IT

  CHAPTER 2 THE PLACE I CALL HOME

  CHAPTER 3 THE LITTLEST STAR IS BORN

  CHAPTER 4 LEARNING MY CRAFT

  CHAPTER 5 GETTING SERIOUS

  Picture Section 1

  CHAPTER 6 ON RECORD

  CHAPTER 7 PURE

  CHAPTER 8 SINGING FOR MY SUPPER

  CHAPTER 9 ODYSSEY

  CHAPTER 10 BICYCLES FOR GHANA

  CHAPTER 11 TREASURE

  CHAPTER 12 TRAVELLING THE WORLD

  Picture Section 2

  CHAPTER 13 HOW TO DO IT YOURSELF

  CHAPTER 14 NEW BEGINNINGS

  CHAPTER 15 LOOKING BACK AND LOOKING FORWARD

  Discography

  Acknowledgements

  Index

  Hayley

  Westenra

  Hayley

  Westenra

  In her own voice

  WITH DARREN HENLEY

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  ISBN 9780753520710

  Version 1.0

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain in 2007 by

  Virgin Books Ltd

  Thames Wharf Studios

  Rainville Road

  London

  W6 9HA

  Copyright © Hayley Westenra 2007

  The right of Hayley Westenra and Darren Henley to be identified as the Authors of this Work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  This electronic book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN: 9780753520710

  Version 1.0

  Introduction

  I am only twenty years old. It seems a very young age to be sitting down to write my autobiography. But so much has happened to me in the first two decades of my life that I wanted to commit it to paper before events start to merge together in my mind and become too hazy for me to remember them clearly.

  For the very first time, I am telling my own story in my own voice. My life has been a truly remarkable journey so far. I have travelled the world, performing for kings and queens, princes and princesses, presidents and prime ministers.

  I was lucky enough to be born with a voice that makes people stop and listen when I start to sing. It has not always been easy, though. There has been a lot of sweat – and there have been some tears – along the way. My parents have made enormous sacrifices to help me to live my dream.

  Despite meeting all of these famous people around the world, I still love the things I have always loved: my sister Sophie; my brother Isaac; my bedroom in our house back in Christchurch; curling up on the sofa in my flat to watch Coronation Street on television in the evening; and eating rye bread smothered in Vegemite and mashed avocados.

  I hope that becoming well known for my singing has not changed me one little bit. I do not think it has. In my mind, I am still little old Hayley from Christchurch in New Zealand. Once you have read my story, I hope that you will agree.

  CHAPTER 1

  KIWI AND PROUD OF IT

  As I walked out through the players' tunnel on to the pitch of the Wales Millennium Stadium in Cardiff, I was hit by the scale of the place. Here was I, one small person with a microphone in her hand, standing in the centre of this enormous arena.

  Wales has become my second home, so it seemed perfectly natural to me to be in Cardiff. I had become used to performing there alongside home-grown stars such as Bryn Terfel and Aled Jones. On this particular day, I was on the pitch with the soprano Katherine Jenkins. We were both to sing ahead of the Welsh rugby team's encounter with the mighty, all-conquering All Blacks.

  You see, Wales may be my second home and I have been given the warmest of welcomes whenever I visit the 'Land of Song', but I will never forget my own home in Christchurch, New Zealand, thousands of miles away from Cardiff, right round the other side of the world. Wherever I go to perform, I always travel with my small Kiwi soft toy and a tiny New Zealand flag – both of which were given to me by a fan at one of my first big concerts. Now, it doesn't feel quite right if I haven't got them with me.

  Since I first became the All Blacks' mascot and they chose me to sing the national anthem at the start of each of their matches, the guys have never lost a game. Not that they had much trouble on that front beforehand, to be honest. It has become a tight union between me and the team. I am thrilled to have the opportunity to support them and they like to have me there too. Not only do I get to sing, but I also have the bonus of getting free tickets to the game.

  It is important for us Kiwis to stick together, since it can be easy to take the All Blacks' consistent success for granted. It was not until I travelled away from New Zealand that I realised just how magnificent and world-beating our rugby team actually is. Over the past few years, I have spent less time back home and more time travelling the world. This has made me even more patriotic. It has made me want to grab hold of anything that reminds me of home and hold it close. So, whenever I have the opportunity to sing the national anthem, which tends to be at rugby matches, I sing it with such passion. That connection to my country means so much to me; it fills me with such pride.

  Standing in the middle of the Millennium Stadium pitch, I could feel my emotions brimming over. I was really enjoying the sense of anticipation, energy and excitement that was radiating from the crowd. Despite the fact that millions of people were watching around the world on television, and tens of thousands of people were surrounding me in the stadium, strangely enough, I did not feel even the slightest twinge of nerves.

  After Katherine and I had walked out on to the pitch with the teams, all eyes and ears were on us as we each sang our country's anthems. That afternoon, it was as if I were discovering the power of 'God Defend New Zealand' for the first time. I was able to ride on the positive waves of energy of the crowd, and I guess this is why I was so nerveless. I knew that everyone had come to see a great game of rugby, and so the attention was not really on me. The people who were feeling the pressure were the players. My job was to lend my team as much support as possible.

  Having such a strong and successful rugby team playing for your country definitely does help. I know that we Kiwis should never become arrogant, but winning so often and so convincingly always makes me feel just a little more confident, when I am singing alongside the guys. Maybe if I was singing for another team, then I might not be quite so sure of myself.

  Singing the New Zealand anthem that afternoon was almost like an out-of-body experience. I was standing on the pitch with my microphone, but it felt as if I were one of the Kiwi supporters in the crowd, some of whom had spent 24 hours in a plane just to be there that afternoon. I love singing the anthem a cappella because I can fall in with the crowd's tempo. After all, there are more of them than there is of me and, even though I have the microp
hone and the loud speakers on my side, they can still make more noise. If I sing to a backing track, I can sometimes feel that I am not singing with the crowd because they are slightly out of time.

  This particular afternoon, though, it was perfect. The noise was so loud that I struggled to hear myself sing at all – but that is all part of the buzz of performing the anthem. When it came to a close, the crowd let out a huge roar of approval.

  The other great tradition at the start of an All Blacks game is the haka, the traditional Maori war dance, where the team ask the gods to give them strength. It is a fantastically powerful sight and sound and it never fails to bring a lump to my throat. On this occasion, they performed it in their dressing room and it was beamed around the stadium on big screens before the players came out.

  Katherine and I walked off the pitch with the cheers ringing in our ears. I had learned from bitter experience that the one thing that you should never wear on a rugby pitch is stiletto heels because you sink into the grass. For me, the nightmare scenario would be having to ask two burly players to lift me out of the ground after becoming welded to the pitch. Although she had performed the Welsh national anthem many, many times on the pitch before, I remember Katherine had a slight wardrobe malfunction and had forgotten to wear suitable footwear for the long walk to and from the anthem singers' podium. She was far more relieved finally to get off the pitch than I was. Although, I must say that they were very nice shoes.

  As much as I love Wales and the people who live there, when it comes to rugby, they will only ever be my number-two team, so I was delighted when the All Blacks triumphed in the game.

  I have sung with Katherine at the Millennium Stadium on many occasions, including once when it had been decided just 24 hours before the game that I should duet with her on the Welsh national anthem. That meant that I had less than a day to learn the words. They were, of course, in Welsh. Not the easiest of languages to master quickly, but I managed to get myself just about word perfect in time for the kick-off, after spending half the night listening to it over and over again on my iPod.

  On one occasion I somehow found myself travelling back to the All Blacks' hotel in the team bus. Kathryn Nash, who is one of my managers, was with me at the time and we could not quite get over how lucky we were to have this privilege – and a police escort, too! We realised very quickly that it was quite a testosterone-filled vehicle and it was initially just a little bit intimidating. But they were all perfect gentlemen and I loved every minute of the trip – especially the serenade. Yes, you heard me right. I was serenaded by the All Blacks the whole way back to their hotel. The All Blacks players are incredibly down to earth, nowhere near the ego-driven self-regarding superstars that you might find in some other sports. As I watched them relaxing after the game, I had to remind myself quite how much pressure is placed on their shoulders. True, they do get an enormous amount of praise to balance out that pressure. But, the moment there is even the slightest suggestion of a crack in their invincibility, the temperature really hots up for them.

  It got me thinking. Although it may seem very different at first sight, there are quite a few similarities between playing rugby and being a singer as a career. In both jobs, to get to the top you need to follow a strict training regime, respecting and looking after your body at all times. If you become sick or unfit, then your performance can be seriously impaired. That one word – performance – is really important. A rugby player goes on to the pitch to give the performance of his life for each of the forty-minute halves of the match. A singer goes on to the stage to give the performance of her life for each of the forty-minute halves of the concert. The players have to be disciplined to achieve that and that is why I can relate to them so well. It is the discipline that we have in common.

  When we arrived back at the team hotel, I did feel a little awkward getting off the bus with all the guys, as their fans gathered around the bus patiently waiting for autographs. I hoped that they did not feel that I was some sort of interloper.

  The All Blacks' after-match parties always have a great atmosphere. Everyone is really chilled. They are a very close bunch with an outstanding team spirit and camaraderie, led by Richie McCaw, our current captain. In order to play as they do on the pitch, I think they have to have this very special bond. It must be one of the reasons why they are such a great team: they are all so close. When they are on tour, they play together and live together and work together. They look out for each other as well. One of the nicest things for me about hanging out with them is that I get the sense that they are looking out for me as well. They treat me like one of the team.

  I don't want to single out any of the players, because you can't have favourites when they are your family. But I do love Piri Weepu because not only is he an incredible player, but he is also an incredible singer and dancer, which earns him extra brownie points in my book! He is usually at the front of the action when it comes to starting the singalong in the team room during the evening. The players have an enormous repertoire of New Zealand 'guy songs' by artists such as Dave Dobbyn and Bob Marley. They are the sorts of songs that I recognise from hearing guys singing back home, but as they would never normally be sung by a girl I hadn't bothered committing them to memory.

  As the after-match party continued and each of the players performed his party piece, I could foresee the inevitability that I would have to sing. This was not time or the place for the delicate beauty of 'Pie Jesu' or 'Ave Maria', so I began silently to hope that they would all be too tired to continue before it was my turn. In the meantime, I was racking my brain for something suitable.

  'Come on, Hayley! It's your turn!' came the cry suddenly from one of the players in the corner.

  'Do you know any Stevie Wonder songs?' I asked the guitarist hopefully.

  'What about "Lately"?' came the reply.

  I just about knew all the words, so I led the team in a stirring rendition of 'Lately'. It was great. Here was I, sitting in a hotel, jamming with the All Blacks. Now, there are not many people in the world who can say that they've done that.

  CHAPTER 2

  THE PLACE I CALL HOME

  Life is pretty laid back in New Zealand. It is very cut off from the rest of the world, so a lot of the country is quite untouched, especially down in the South Island, which is where I come from. The views are breathtaking and the landscape is stunningly beautiful and largely unspoiled by development. Christchurch, where I was born, has a population of around half a million people. We have a cathedral and that makes us a city, but, as cities go, we are definitely on the small side.

  When I was starting out on my singing career, Christ-church was plenty big enough for me. Eventually, though, there was a point when I realised that I would have to go up to Auckland, the big smoke in New Zealand, and then ultimately overseas to fulfil my dreams. But, for the first decade or so of my life, Christchurch was my world.

  Although Christchurch has always been home for me, my family on neither my mum's side nor my dad's side originate there. The way in which my mum, Jill, met my dad, Gerald, has always seemed very bizarre to me.

  Now, I love him very much, but I have to be honest and say that Dad really is not the most musical man on earth. Mum used to do a bit of singing, but it was Dad rather than she who had somehow got himself a singing role in a musical production of Bugsy Malone. Mum had just arrived in Christchurch from Timaru and they met at the after-show party. The rest, as they say, is history and they have been together ever since.

  Westenra is actually a Dutch name and my family on Dad's side emigrated from Holland to Ireland and then on to New Zealand. Dad's mother, Patricia, died when I was just three years old, so I do not remember her now. Sadly, I also never met my paternal grandfather, Aylmer, who died when Dad was fourteen. In the stories that Dad has told me, he always sounds like a heroic kind of guy. He contracted polio when he was working out in Kenya and so was confined to a wheelchair. His disability never affected his sharp mind, though, and
he was forever thinking up new inventions, including a night-and-day globe, which was sadly never put into production before he died.

  Mum's maiden name is actually Ireland. Her parents, Shirley and Gerry, were second-generation Kiwis. They owned a bed-and-breakfast on the West Coast and Grandad also drove the delivery lorries for the local brewery.

  My grandmother, Shirley Ireland, is still a very important person in my life. She used to be a great singer, but sadly her voice was affected by the radiotherapy that was used to treat breast cancer. Grandad was incredibly musical, playing the piano accordion, the piano, the harmonica (in all of its different sizes) and the violin. Together with Nanna, he would travel around the hotels and pubs near their home putting on entertainment. She would sing the hits of the time – the sort of music made famous by Vera Lynn during and after World War Two – and he would accompany her.

  During their childhood, Mum and her sister, my Auntie Carol, were regularly taken out for drives in the car by Grandad and Nanna on Sunday lunchtimes. Invariably, they would end up at a local pub and the two girls would run about in the adjoining playground, once they had been bought a treat such as a raspberry drink or a Crunchie bar. Grandad always had his piano accordion in the boot of his car, just in case the opportunity arose to bring it out. The opportunity nearly always did arise. So Nanna would sing and Mum and Auntie Carol would join in with their own version of the Highland fling.

  Eventually, the four of them moved to Timaru on the east coast, where Mum went to high school. For as long as I can remember, we have always gone down to Timaru for Easter and Christmas. When we were small, the house was always filled with sound: lots of music and lots of singing. My brother, sister and I would regularly put on a show for our grandparents. It was always a big deal and the three of us used to practise in my room, working on harmonies. The music that they brought into our lives made them one of my earliest and most important musical influences.