You don’t have to go home, but you can't stay here

'You don’t have to go home, but you can't stay here.'

That’s what my musician ex used to say to the audience at the end of every gig when people continued to mill around the stage and just didn’t want to leave. 

I felt like that at the end of this year's Williamstown Literary Festival. I didn’t want the gig to end.

This year there was an extra special buzz. The thirteenth festival, it entered adolescence and is maturing into one of the 'must go to' literary events. 

As a writer and book lover, I'm excited to have the WLF on my doorstep. I was proud to be part of the program this year, with the opportunity to be in discussion with Olga Lorenzo and to be part of the Stereo Stories Live event with my 90-year-old father, Salvatore.

I've done many Stereo Stories gigs, but I was particularly nervous that night because I'd realised how much bigger it had grown, judging by the sea of faces in the audience. Then I looked around the table and there I was in the company of fantastic writers and musicians, Vin Maskell (founder and MC), Paul Bateman, Rijn Collins, Brian Nankervis, Andy Griffiths, Clare Boyd-Macrae, Zoe Krupka, Smokie Dawson, Jack Gramski, Peter Maskell, Anthony Shortte, Rob Gador, Stephen Andrew, Jennifer Lund and of course, my dad, Salvatore Romita. Not only was I suffering from nerves, but also my Imposter Syndrome kicked in.  

After we had performed our piece, Lili Marlene, (me reading, Dad playing piano accordion) we helped him off stage as he leant heavily on his walking stick. The audience continued to applaud him. He was moved by the reaction and the kindness shown towards him. 

That night for me was the epitome of what the WLF is about – a warm, appreciative audience, a love of words, a love of stories, and generosity of creative and receptive spirit.

Sadly, for this year, I've been forced to go home but I'll carry that memory with me until next year's festival. It will be fantastic as always. 

We know how to do words in the west.

Stereo Stories @ VU Bar

Stereo Stories combines personal stories and popular songs, featuring writers and musicians onstage together. Stories of pathos, humour and love read with doses of jazz, soul, pop and rock. As writers read their stories about particular songs, musicians weave in and out of the narrative, playing parts of the song. 

Stereo Stories has been a hit at the Williamstown Literary Festivals and Newport Folk Festivals. The 90 minute VU performance will include some stories by students and lecturers of the VU Professional Writing and Editing course and some of the best musos in the land. 

THURSDAY 30 JULY, 7pm start.
VENUE: The VU Bar at Footscray Park campus, Building M.
Cost: $15, or $10 conc.
Bar and meals available. Books on sale.

RSVP TO Sherryl.Clark@vu.edu.au or leave a message on 9919 2904. It helps the Bar with staffing.

See more about Stereo Stories here: http://www.stereostories.com/

A hard act to follow

Recently, my father, Salvatore Romita, and I appeared on RN's The Drawing Room with Waleed Aly in a session on Stereo Stories, a wonderful website that is the brainchild of Melbourne writers Vin Maskell and David Linden. The idea behind the website invites us to recall a song, a time, a place. In my case, the song was Lilli Marlene and my recollections were of the song, as played by Dad on the piano accordion, and its history in our family. In particular, it was about Dad recording the song in 2007.

When we listened in to the session, which had been pre-recorded, Dad sat nervously on the sofa, fretting about whether he’d played well enough and answered Waleed’s questions without sounding as if he didn’t know what he was talking about. After Vin’s recounting the history of the website, Waleed asked Dad about his personal history with the piano accordion, an instrument he first was given as a gift by his father who saw the potential for music in his son. I then read my story and Dad played the song. Of course, with the magic of mixing, the music was beautifully interwoven with the narrative and the sound was perfect. Dad began to sob. Puzzled, I handed him tissue after tissue. We listened to the rest of the segment with Dad gulping and the continuous whoosh of tissues exiting the box. The segment ended with Dad, “taking us out” as they say in radio with the song, You Belong to my Heart. When it ended, Dad wiped away his tears and said, “I wish my father could see me now.” At nearly 89 years of age, and on national radio, he felt that his father’s faith in him had finally been confirmed.

This short story of just a few hundred words has given me so much more than the opportunity to share a slice of family history and a song full of memories. It has become a layered experience—a story about the story about the song. It has given me a chance to understand better my Dad and his dreams and aspirations. Together, we've performed this piece at two recent festivals—Williamstown Literary Festival and the Newport Folk Festival. Dad was a hit at each. At his age, his energy and enthusiasm for his music is inspirational and frankly, he’d never get off the stage if you let him stay there. I have learned much from him about living creatively for which I will always be grateful. 

The night after our segment, The Drawing Room featured the work of globally renowned singer-songwriter Bob Dylan. I'm glad they picked such a big name. After all, Dad's a hard act to follow. 

Stereo Stories in The Drawing Room featuring Salvatore Romita, can be heard here. 

      

Stereo Stories

And now for something lazily different...

Here's a link to the Stereo Stories website that asks people to write about songs that have strong memories for them. My piece was Desperado by The Eagles.  

What's your stereo story?

About Stereo Stories

Every song has at least two stories. There’s the song’s own story, about love or sex or death or whatever it may be. And there’s the story of the fan listening to the song.

You can read about getting sunburnt while hearing, for the first time, XTC's Senses Working Overtime; or about a parent driving to school playing The Beatles’ We Can Work It Out.

You can read about a first-time father playing Massive Attack’s Protection while tending a fragile new-born daughter; or about a teenager discovering disco in the school playground.

Stereo Stories is about what a song means to you over the years. It’s about why a song stays with you.

It is about hits and memories.

Have a read, have a listen. We'll be posting a new story every few weeks.