Hayley Westenra

by Hayley Westenra

  There were not very many of these cards in existence. The only other ones I knew about were given by Alan to the players for the Crusaders, the Canterbury rugby team. On one occasion, I went into a McDonald's restaurant that it turned out that Alan didn't own and tried to use the card. Everyone behind the counter looked a little confused, but they still handed over the free meals, even though they had a suspicious look in their eyes. Only afterwards did I discover that it was not one of Alan's restaurants and this was the reason for the blank faces. Still, I managed to score myself a couple of free meals in the process!

  For the semifinals in Taupo, I sang Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'Wishing You Were Somewhere Here Again'. Unfortunately for me, things did not go quite so smoothly as my performance in the heats. As I was singing, I lost control of my voice and ended up with a frog in my throat on one of my first notes. As far as I was concerned, I had completely messed up. After I had finished, I stood backstage shaking from the experience. It seemed to me at the time to be the most horrific thing that had ever happened to me in my whole life. I was still young and, as I waited to hear the views of the judges, the mistake was gradually amplified out of all proportion in my mind. It was such a big deal for me: I was in the semifinals; it was on national television; I had embarrassed myself; the judges would never know just how well I could sing. I was convinced that one of the other two acts I was up against – a dancer and a flautist – would go through.

  The host, Jason Gunn, walked up to me. I had met him a couple of times before at local events. He was very encouraging and tried to comfort me by saying, 'The judges know your potential and what you're capable of.'

  I didn't share his optimism. But somehow – and to this day I'll never know quite how – I made it through to the final. When my name was read out, I was completely taken aback. I felt quite undeserving of it all because, as far as I was concerned, I had stuffed up my performance. But the judges must have backed me because they had heard me in rehearsals earlier in the day. They saw past the frog in my throat and put me through.

  When the day of the finals arrived, I discovered that I was the only solo act. There were a couple of family-based dance troupes, four singing brothers and me. There were no problems this time and my performance went well, but, then, so did everyone else's. It was a hard job for the judges to compare singers with dancers and groups with a solo act. They gave me a huge amount of positive feedback after I had performed my piece, 'The Mists of Islay'. Ultimately, I came in at fourth position out of the four acts, but I was overjoyed to have made it to the final. My only disappointment came because I had hoped to give something back to my family. The first two prizes were family holidays and it would have been great to have taken everyone away on a luxury trip because they were there with me on the whole journey, helping to support me along the way. It would have been really cool to have been able to say, 'Hey, guys! I won you a family holiday!'

  In the end, I won a mountain bike and a helmet, which was not quite the same thing.

  CHAPTER 5

  GETTING SERIOUS

  My career as a recording artist began thanks to a guy from Rotorua, who had heard me singing on the McDonald's Young Entertainers show. After each TV performance he used to send me a postcard congratulating me on my success at getting through to the next stage. After the final, he sent me one last card and at the end wrote, 'I would love to have a recording of the three songs that you performed on the programme. Is this possible? I'm more than happy to send a blank tape to you and to pay for any incurred costs.'

  At home, we didn't have any recording devices, but the suggestion set me thinking that it would be quite a cool idea to make a recording. The seed was planted. I was due to go to a studio shortly afterwards to make a short recording for a millennium concert that was coming up.

  'You should ask the engineer whether he's got any free time for recording – and what the deal is,' said Mum, as I left home to go to the studio.

  So I did.

  'Well, I haven't got any work on over the holidays, so that could be quite a good time to do it,' came the unexpectedly positive reply. It would cost us NZ$80 per hour to hire the studio and the engineer (which is quite a bit cheaper than it costs me these days with Decca, I can tell you!).

  Eighty dollars an hour was a lot of money for us, but I paid for the recording out of the money that I had saved from busking. I've always been a saver rather than a spender and would always squirrel away any birthday or Christmas money in my piggy bank, rather than splurge it on some new toy. To this day, I love nothing better than discovering a good bargain, especially when it comes to clothes and disposable things. I'm very conscious of the value of money. I do occasionally have a moment when I splurge these days, but I usually feel guilty about it afterwards. Any high-priced items tend to be work-related. Recently, I spent an awful lot of money on an amazing dress to wear on stage, but I was able to justify the expenditure to myself because I owe it to the people who have paid a lot of money to come to my concerts to appear in a nice gown.

  But, aside from things that are work-related, I never think, Oh, I've got to have that! I'm not a big jewellery girl and I'm quite happy with bargain trinkets from accessory shops. The only things where I don't tend to look at the price are related to staying healthy. I'm happy to spend the extra for fresh organic food and I see health supplements as an investment rather than a luxury. I did pay for a course of acupuncture recently, which was not cheap, but I felt that it was worth it if it was going to help me to stay healthy. I certainly don't feel that spending money on manicures or pedicures is justified. I've had a couple in the past and, each time, I've walked out of the salon questioning why I had just spent £30 for a lady to smile at me sweetly and buff my nails – something that I could have done perfectly well myself.

  So, although the studio costs seemed expensive, I didn't regard making a CD as an unnecessary luxury. It seemed like a sensible thing for me to be spending my money on at the time. As it turned out, it was probably the best investment that I'll ever make in my life.

  I had kept the backing music for the songs that I had performed on the programme. The tracks had been especially created for the show and, because of that, each song was just a two-minute burst, all chopped down for television timing.

  A time was booked in the studio with the very helpful recording engineer, Rob Mayes. I had intended to record only the three songs from the television show plus a couple more for which I had found some backing music. Rob was very encouraging and suggested that I record a few more tracks so that I would be able to leave with a complete album.

  The challenge was to find suitable backing music to enable me to take up his suggestion. It was a mission! I spent hours going through my karaoke CDs finding songs. Some of the tracks for which I did find music didn't really seem suitable for me to sing, so the quest would go on. Basically, I was deciding the contents of this first album on the availability of backing music, rather than because I felt passionate about a particular song. We were thrilled to discover some downloadable midi files on the Internet, but would then have to reject them because they had a tacky drum beat or terrible keyboard playing. It became hugely frustrating, but it did make for an album with enormous variety in the end.

  I was especially pleased to discover a version of the Bee Gees' 'How Deep is Your Love?' that I could use. I listened to it over and over again and worked hard to build up the harmonies. When it came to recording, I sang all of the different versions, and Rob then multitracked these and mixed them together, so at one stage there were three of me singing simultaneous harmonies. It was very exciting and high-tech, compared with what I had been used to. I felt very grown up, like a real recording star.

  When the recording session was over, we designed a cover that included a photograph of me taken by Mum and my name, 'Hayley Dee Westenra'. I've no idea why we included my middle name. It's the only time it has ever appeared on the front of one of my albums and I can assure you that it will never appear a
gain. It was very homemade-looking, but we were all very proud of it.

  The demand for a recording of me singing from passers-by on the streets when I was out busking was getting louder. One lady came up to me at the end of a song and asked, 'Have you done a recording of your voice?'

  'Actually, I have – just recently,' I replied. I wanted to continue with my singing and so directed her over to Mum, hoping that she would explain. I didn't realise that she had a copy in her bag, but apparently the lady begged Mum to allow her to buy the copy from her. Mum was reluctant to sell one to a stranger because she had so few copies in the first place. We had made only enough to give to close family and friends.

  One of the people we did have a copy for was Alan Traill, who had continued to be very supportive of me ever since the McDonald's Young Entertainers contest. While we were at his house, we mentioned in passing that we were looking to get a large number of copies produced professionally, but that it was probably going to cost too much.

  Later that evening, he came around to our house and knocked on the door. After we had welcomed him inside he astounded us with what he had to say next.

  'Look, I've been thinking about this. You really should get this album produced professionally. I really want you to get it done. Here's the money. If you pay me back, great. But, if you can't, then no worries.'

  He then presented me with a NZ$5,000 cheque. Despite our protestations that he was being too generous, he made it clear that it was a loan that we could pay back. I was completely blown away by his generosity. So were Mum and Dad. Once we had accepted his offer, we had no excuses not to go ahead with making an album. I was taken aback by Alan's belief in my ability. He was the first person outside my family to believe in me so much that they were actually prepared to invest their own money in me. Without a doubt, his decision left an imprint on me, giving me a little bit more confidence in myself.

  As soon as the decision had been made, we plunged into album-making mode. Mum did most of the negotiations – and you have to remember that my family were not steeped in the traditions and practices of the music business. Everything we did and everything we discovered was absolutely brand new to us. Mum found out how the whole process of manufacturing a significant number of CDs works. She learned how we would need to pay for a glass master to be created, from which all of the copies would be made. She was told that, if you are going to the expense of making a glass master to run off five hundred copies, you might as well manufacture a thousand copies because the increase in cost at that stage is going to be relatively small. So, we decided to produce a thousand CDs, which is quite a lot to sell in anyone's book, but we were determined to find a way of shifting them and recouping the money.

  One of the earliest decisions was that we would change the album's name. So, much to my relief, out went 'Hayley Dee Westenra' and in came 'Hayley Westenra – Walking in the Air'.

  As well as manufacturing the CD, we needed to come up with a more professional-looking photograph for the cover, rather than one that had been borrowed from the family album. Mum's first idea was for us to go out to the beach and take a photograph of me among the tussocks in the mist. Early one morning, she set off for a recce and discovered the perfect spot with the requisite amount of mist. She started speaking to a woman walking her dog nearby and asked her if the weather that morning was typical.

  'I've been living here for the last ten years and it's only the third time that I've seen mist' came the disheartening reply.

  The following morning the whole family packed up the car and headed out to the beach in search of mist. We set off very early to try to catch that moment when the sun was bright, but not quite hot enough to burn off the mist. It was not to be, though, and, when we arrived, there was no mist to be seen anywhere, despite our best efforts to find some. In the end, we gave up on the idea altogether and took no photos at all. Instead, we sat having a picnic on the beach, eating the vegemite-and-cheese rolls that Mum had packed for our breakfast.

  Ever resourceful, we took the opportunity to drive around Christchurch looking for places to take photos. Eventually, I found myself standing in my Great-Aunt Jo's donkey enclosure on her farmyard. Mum has a very strong photographic eye and is always on the lookout for interesting locations to frame pictures. She had discovered a moss-covered shed on the farm, which she thought would make a perfect setting. I gingerly tiptoed across the field to the shed, studiously trying to avoid sinking into the mud. Mum, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less whether her shoes became caked in mud. She was in creative mode, climbing everywhere in an attempt to get the angle and the light right for the big shot.

  She took some great photos, one of which we used on the homemade poster that we produced to try to promote the album. Once the album was finished, we realised that it would take too long to make the money back if we relied only on the copies that we could sell while I was busking, so we journeyed around all of the Christchurch CD stores, befriending the managers and persuading them to order a few of the CDs each.

  It was still a very small enterprise, but a track from the record was played on the local radio station Plains FM. It was the first time that I had received any radio airplay for a song that I had sung. I was also featured on CTV, the local television station, which broadcasts across Christchurch.

  Interest was growing and so we speculatively sent a copy of the CD to each of the big record companies in Auckland. Enough people seemed to be keen on the album and we began to wonder if it might have a life beyond the CD players of Christchurch.

  Gray Bartlett has had a very successful career in New Zealand as an agent and as a musician, and my appearance on CTV caught the attention of one of his colleagues. She phoned us up and suggested we send him a copy of the album. Gray then mentioned me to George Ash, who was the man in charge of Universal Music New Zealand, one of the country's music industry big hitters.

  'Yes, we've been sent her album, we've been thinking about bringing her to Auckland,' George said.

  And then, before I really had any time to appreciate what was actually going on, I was being flown up to Auckland to record my first album. 'But they haven't even met me,' I said to Mum on the plane. All they had was a homemade demo CD and a handful of photographs taken by Mum. I still wonder whether they were in fact simply bringing me to Auckland to make a better-quality demo and whether I would have found myself on the next plane back to Christchurch, had it not turned out well.

  It was all so sudden. Out of nowhere, I was being told, 'Yep, this is it. You're going to record your first album. Now, off you go to the studio.' It was exciting, surprising and completely overwhelming, although I always tried not to let it show on the outside. I found it quite an unnerving experience. Inside, I was thinking, Oh, but what if I'm not what they expect? What if they think I'm prettier than I am in reality? They had never even met me and I couldn't believe that they could possibly be flying me up there to give me a record contract and to make a proper, professional album.

  Back then, I was not quite as aware as I am now of the need for an artist to have an image – to look and dress a certain way. I thought my voice would carry me. I was aware that image came into it and was a part of the package, but I was more concerned that they were expecting me to be something or someone I was not, because they had never met me before. I realised that Auckland was a much bigger city than Christchurch and I think that in my head I had a picture of the sort of artist that big record companies would be looking for and I knew that I simply was not the sort of glitzy girl that they wanted. I suppose that I lacked confidence in everything except my singing ability.

  The new CD was based on my family-produced Walking in the Air album, but I was very proud that new arrangements of songs were written especially for me. And I no longer had to use versions of the backing tracks that were just two minutes long. I didn't realise it at the time, but the process of making the CD was incredibly fast, barely lasting a couple of weeks. On some days, I was recording four so
ngs from start to finish, but I knew no different, so I didn't question it or complain. I was just grateful to be there. I didn't know that the normal process of making an album can take weeks or even months and that this was an extraordinarily fast-turnaround album. I just assumed that the process of recording always happened like that.

  I was so in awe of the whole situation. Not only did I record in a bigger and better recording studio, but I felt very glamorous trying on the different outfits that had been bought especially for me for my photo shoot. It was every girl's dream.

  My lack of confidence also extended to speaking out creatively about the album. I was not convinced that anyone would listen to me if I told them that I thought that the 'Pie Jesu' needed to be slower, or if I felt that another track had been put into the wrong key. A keyboard track had already been recorded for all the songs as a guide and it didn't occur to me that, as the artist, I could put my foot down and get them to rerecord the keyboard part to follow me instead of me following the keyboard part. It was a very beneficial learning curve for me and, from that moment on, I vowed to become far more involved in the process on any subsequent albums that I made.

  As a bonus track, Universal got hold of a recording of 'Amazing Grace' which I had performed with the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards when I was fourteen. They were in New Zealand on tour and I had joined them on stage in Hamilton. It was this recording that was used. One of the particular challenges I discovered was that bagpipes can play in only one key, which was, in truth, way too low for my voice. It was still an exciting performance and I think this comes across on the recording.

  The album was very simply called Hayley Westenra. Once again, I had no high expectations of how many copies it might sell. For me, it seemed a great achievement for a teenage girl from Christchurch to have made an album like this, thanks, in the main, to the tenacity and support of her parents. I didn't know how many albums I would have to sell to make it a successful record or the number of sales that would render it a flop. I don't think the record company had enormously high expectations for it because they had never really had an artist like me before, so they didn't have any historical precedents to judge it by.