A month ago I bought a pair of tickets to see, or more importantly hear Kathryn Tickell at St Georges in Bristol. I've known and followed Kathryn for decades, ever since we were both teenagers. She'd come to the Rothbury Music Festival, perform in Morpeth, Hexham and elsewhere in small venues with Ian Carr and Lynn Tocker. Then in the 1980's her fame grew. Partly hugely talented in playing the Northumbrian smallpipes, and partly I'm sure being a young girl not playing synth-pop chart topping music. A Teenager playing bagpipes isn't an everyday occurrence. But I love it. Reminds me of 'home' and so it was tonight when a set was played referencing the River Coquet and Holy island that I found myself crying gently. Why I don't know but it transported me home and I miss it so much. More so than ever, and the sound of the pipes transports me back from Bristol to The Wild Hills of Wannie.
No comments:
Post a Comment