Video Launch: Julia Turner’s Cutlery Shed with Lauren Bradford and Isolde
Wednesday 17th December, 7:30pm at The Old Bookshop, Bristol.
As the new waitress at a large Melbourne restaurant in 2011 Julia was sent every night to polish cutlery in the stinky, hot bin room. There was a lot of cutlery and it took many long dull hours. The boredom led to some woeful singing and out of the drudge came a song. Cutlery Shed was recorded for Julia’s debut album in late 2012 with full band.
This new release is an acapella version arranged for Eko, a vocal trio made up of Julia Turner, Lauren Bradford and Isolde. After larking about with cutlery and choreography they thought it would be fun to make a music video. Thanks to Ben at The Old Bookshop the trio were able to use his beautifully quirky bar as a backdrop – he even makes an appearance in the film as evil restaurant manager, though this is entirely fictional and Eko think Ben is one of the nicest people they’ve ever met. Created by Dan King this music video is comic and well crafted with vocal harmonies that will raise the roof. A must see for any Old Bookshop veteran.
There will be live music from Isolde, Lauren Bradford and Julia Turner from 7:30pm. The 5-minute film will be screened at 10pm.
When I booked tickets to see Leonard Cohen at The O2 Arena several months ago I was excited but wary. Leonard Cohen is one of my favourite songwriters of all time but the idea of seeing him at such a gigantic venue felt a bit ridiculous. Could I really say that I’d ‘seen’ him? Could I even really say that I’d heard him live when the delay on his voice reaching the back of the stadium would be so long? Arriving at North Greenwich tube I was glad I had a spare half hour as it was quite a journey to my seat, Entrance: H Block: 411 Row: R Seat: 702. The final ascent was steep and looking behind me as I climbed I was filled with awe and a slight feeling of vertigo. Take away the flashing adverts for electronic cigarettes and I could almost imagine that I was in a Roman amphitheatre. Something about this pilgrimage of so many people felt timeless.
This was my view of the stage as I waited for Leonard Cohen. As the band walked on I imagined that they were insect musicians, so small that that if I reached out my hand they might dance onto it, up my arm and right past my ears.
Dad had bought his binoculars with him and throughout the performance we passed these up and down our party of five. They made a big difference. On either side of the stage was a flat screen which showed close ups of the performers but watching this I felt removed from the real action. Holding the binoculars up to my eyes felt more intimate, I could see the stage as a whole and in enough detail to pick out some of the interactions that were happening way down there.
My first tear came about halfway through the performance. I hadn’t expected to be moved by Halleluiah. It’s a great song but one that I have heard so many times in so many different contexts that it’s worn a bit thin. Leonard Cohen sung it as if he was singing each line for the first time, enriching the words with new meaning. His audience responded by matching his honesty with their own. 20,000 people joined in with the chorus but the voices were humble, they were so quiet that you could almost have missed them. “It doesn’t matter which you heard, The holy or the broken Hallelujah” but this moment was spiritual.
As you have probably gathered we were quite some way from the man himself but somehow Cohen made this enormous arena feel like the most intimate of venues. I can’t really put into words how he did this but he made each and every one of us feel his appreciation that we were there. He spoke genuinely with love and honesty and with deep respect for those that were on stage with him and those in the audience. He told us “Just seeing all of you here is a great, great privilege. I deeply appreciate it friends.” and we believed him.