( The author with Piper Graham)
The hamlet of Savernake sits in the south eastern most reaches of NSW’s Riverina in the Federation Shire, about 30kms north of the border towns of Yarrawonga/Mulwala. A modest collection of buildings greets you as you pass the Savernake sign – a Catholic church, a deconsecrated Anglican church & the school that was rebuilt in 1980 after a bushfire, but has finally succumbed to dwindling enrolments. However, there is one building in the town that belies this superficial slide into oblivion: The lyrically named Savernake School of the Arts.
A country hall by any other name, the corrugated tin and timber structure proudly stands amidst manicured lawns. Its proximity to the RFS shed a seemingly deliberate ploy to ensure it doesn’t meet the same fate as the school.
Savernake School of the Arts was to be the venue for my show ‘Mayor For a Day’. M4AD involves me immersing myself in a specific community over a few days, under the spurious notion that I’m their new, duly unelected head of local government. On D- Day, I play back my findings & deliver an entirely tailored show that culminates in my pitch for the unfettered change that I’d exact if was I gifted the ceremonial robes. The process is physically & emotionally draining, but the results are hugely satisfying. You can read more about the show here …
The process always begins with an informal meet and greet with a delegation of locals at the pub, café or golf club. Savernake being devoid of any of these options, we plumped for the hall. I arrived to find a row of neatly parked, identical white 4 wheel drives and within, an equally ordered semi-circle of locals who had already knocked off half of the fruit cake in the hall committee meeting that preceded my arrival.
The group were initially nervous and hesitant, which is understandable. They didn’t know me & hadn’t a clue what I was looking for. However, they soon thawed, and I quickly realised that this was a one of those vital communities whose sense of place far outweighed that of many larger rural townships. I soon had a full dance card of invitations to events such as the RFS induction night, a personal tour of the living museum that is the Sloanes’ Savernake Station and a visit to Evans Butchers in Berrigan, whose dubious motto ‘Local People Local Produce’ has led to suspicions of cannibalism.
Prior to the meeting I’d been perusing the various local Facebook groups gathering parochial colour. Across all the pages, one common element was the presence of a Scottish piper who seemingly showed up at every local event. Whether it was the hall centenary, a working bee or a book club meeting, this bloke was there in his full kit in the background belting out a highland classic on his armpit organ.
(Local piper not helping out at the hall working bee)
Just before the meeting broke up, I enquired about the perpetual presence of the piper.
‘Oh Graham,’ Hall President Kathryn Bruce responded. ‘He plays at everything. Keeps his pipes in the car just in case. He’d play at his own funeral if he wasn’t dead.’
‘Do you think he’d pipe me into the hall for the show?’ I asked sheepishly.
‘In a heartbeat’, Ken Bruce replied without hesitation. ‘I’ll give him a call.’
Fast forward to Sunday night and I’m backstage feverishly applying the final touches to the power point that makes up a substantial part of the show. With each uniquely tailored show, I’m rearranging and photoshopping pics right up until the curtain goes up. Nothing is written down. I literally walk onto the stage and 3 days of experiences pours out of the burst cistern of my brain.
My phone rang. It was Graham … again.
Graham: ‘I’m thinking I’ll play something Australian like Waltzing Matilda.’
Damian: ‘As I said mate, I’d prefer a Scottish standard.’
Graham: ‘Right you are. Oh, and I’ll be in disguise, so I don’t give up the game to the audience’
Damian: ‘But won’t the disguise just make people realise that …
Graham: ‘I’ll see you in bit.’
For each show I improvise a costume relating to the place. I’d managed to make some mayoral robes out of a woolpack complete with the Savernake Station branding. I’d also happened to throw my kilt and accessories into my costume suitcase for the tour, so I wasn’t going to be out dressed by Graham, whatever tune he ended up playing.
Justin my stage manager was fitting my headset mic behind the screen when the silhouetted figure of Humphrey Bogart appeared. Resplendent in a fedora, ankle length overcoat and carrying what appeared to be gun case, he stomped through the space, nearly knocking over the precariously balanced rear projector. He stopped and pointed violently at the screen which was showing a holding slide of the show poster
Graham: Is that you up there?
Damian: Umm, yes?
Graham: You don’t look like that anymore!
Damian:
Graham: I’m sorry, but you don’t … What about Road to Gundagai?
Damian: Yeah, still keen for something Scottish.
(The photo I was accused of not looking like)
I didn’t have time to worry about my piper diva and his absent social skill set: I had a show to do. The audience had all filed into the hall from where they’d be having pre-show drinks on the verandah, so I made my way around to the front of the hall where we’d be making our entrance to promenade through the main aisle toward the stage. This took some negotiating: Graham was determined that we should take the dramatically less satisfying route through the annexe door right next to the stage.
Graham could be heard warming up over near the RFS shed when Justin came to give me clearance
Justin: You good to go?
Damian: Yep.
Justin: Great … Oh, & Graham said to tell you that he’s decided to play Advance Australia Fair.
Damian: Tell him I want Scotland the Brave and that’s final!
I’d shaken off my frustration by the time Graham appeared. We smiled at each other as the hall doors were ceremonially opened. He pursed his lips to the blow stick, squeezed the bag and the first bars of the great Highland anthem pierced the dappled, dusk sunlight. As we stepped into the darkened hall, Graham’s sublime playing filled the space. The audience simultaneously rose to their feet as one and began cheering. I honestly can’t recall a more euphoric opening to a show. What was even better was that the entrance set the tone and the audience remained at that level of joyous delirium for the 2 hour duration of the show.
If you haven’t already given it a go, I highly recommend being piped into a room as a life experience. It’s exalting! Whatever your job, your work life will be greatly enhanced by paying a piper to play their tartan octopus as you walk into the office, library, hospital ward, mine site, child care centre or prison ward.
After Graham’s moment ended, he was applauded to his seat. However, his presence lived on throughout the show as I had photoshopped him playing the bagpipes into a series of increasingly inappropriate circumstances.
(Graham was suspended from the Savernake CFS soon after)
This particular iteration of Mayor for a Day was everything I’d hoped this show could be when I first devised it. The audience were beaming and effusive in the supper room afterwards. Even the bus driver who’d driven audience members from Yarrawonga & Mulwala was ecstatic.
Bus Driver: That was awesome! I never usually stay and watch the shit they usually have on here, but that was hilarious.
Damian: Thanks?
Bus Driver: Oooo, date scones!
Graham had acquired celebrity status and was holding court getting his photo taken with patrons in front of the passionfruit sponge. Eventually I was summoned over to have photos taken with the star of the show.
(Star struck fans … of Graham)
With a crowd gathered around us, I put aside our earlier niggles and rightly heaped praise on my co-star. He seemed quietly tickled, but confused by the attention. Eventually the conversation waned, and this was enough of a gap for Graham to employ his trademark lack of tact. He turned and looked at me with a deep, accusatorial glare
Graham: Why haven’t I heard of you!?
Everyone: (audible gasps]
Damian:
Graham: I’m sorry, but I just haven’t! I watch all the cartoon (sic – comedy) shows and I’ve never seen you before in my life.
It was as if it had all got to too much. He couldn’t comprehend how someone who was not on his radar could possibly have been responsible for such an entertaining performance.
The rest of the group were looking at me supportively, but clearly wondering how I was going to respond to his indignant ignorance. There is no way to answer that kind of a questioning about the fleeting fancies of fame without losing more dignity.
Graham: Have you thought about going on Australia’s Got Talent?
Damian: Oooo, date scones!!
(You can watch Damian & Graham’s entrance here)
Lovely work Damo. Wish I could have seen it. Made my stage debut in that hall in 1973 at the Savernake Primary School end of year concert. We mimed to Suzie Quatro's Devil Gate Drive. My guitar was mum's Pancho Gonzalez tennis racquet. Lot of head shaking and exaggerated strumming as I recall. Sharon Bruce made a great Suzie Q.
Excellent read. Beautifully written. Sounds like a great idea for a show. Would love to get you on my podcast to chat about it if you're up for it.