67 f As Andrew Batt says, “It was the perfect opportunity to pro-
mote Thea’s record as part of Sandy’s repertoire, it shows the flexi- bility and scope of her writing.”
“I don’t think Sandy Denny’s ever been so accessible before,” Lavinia Blackwell relates when I speak to her prior to the road trip. “Her music’s infused with personality and English nuance, that’s the way I can connect with her.”
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“I appreciate her work more, it’s lovely, great songs full of ornamentation and feeling,” Maddy Prior tells me, revealing that she’d never sung any Denny material before Andrew Batt asked her along. “I knew her, of course I did, we both lived in London and people thought of us in the same slipstream I suppose. I remember she and Trevor [Lucas, her husband] came and saw one of my solo gigs when Steeleye folded and she said that I should hang onto my name no matter what I did. Don’t lose identity in a band. I suppose Sandy learned that the hard way.”
utting to backstage, the company is buzzing. The Lady: A Homage To Sandy Denny has come through its first show with all flags flying. Inevitably some parts have been more successful than others but for a debut I have to admit it was a pretty impressive tip of the hat to an artist who passed away 34 years previously.
If you want to think about just how varied the work of Sandy Denny could be given the right circumstances, consider PP Arnold – not exactly known for English introspection – belting out I’m A Dreamer like it was brotherly love gospel at a revival meeting; Green Gartside’s stripped-bare, beat-heavy Stranger To Himself, almost snarled with frustration; Ben Nicholl’s ragged, banjo holler stomp which took Matty Groves back to the mountains. Bushes And Briars done as a rolling road tune by Sam Carter was quite stunning. Most assured was Maddy Prior tackling Fotheringay in tender court- ly sympathy and then roaring through Solo gloriously with the whole band chasing after her, and Donahue’s lead echoing to the rafters on the memorable guitar break. London, delivered peppily by Thea Gilmore and Nigel Stonier, in swinging drive sat neatly with- in the order giving a contemporary reflection to the back catalogue.
When individualist Joan Wasser went for a piano and voice
rendition of No More Sad Refrains you could hear a pin drop. “ I was so nervous, I just closed my eyes and went for it.” Right on the money I’d say. Yet the one channelling Sandy more than any was Lavinia Blackwell. A Sailor’s Life was uncanny, it rocked and rolled on a swelling tide, Dave Swarbrick’s fiddle flecking the breakers. More was to come, graceful, precise, an exercise in control and harmony – The Quiet Joys Of Brotherhood was nothing short of a triumph as Blackwell, Prior and Gilmore blended exquisitely. It sent a shiver down the spine. “I don’t think I’ve heard much as good as that,” exclaims a lady not far from my seat, and whilst I didn’t see it, grown men could well have cried.
Andrew Batt smiles, a bottle of something celebratory rightly clasped in his hand. “It just got better and better,” he grins.
By now the Green Room has almost everybody present and
beaming. “Yes, I was nervous, but once you got up on stage there was a swell of warmth,” Lavinia Blackwell confesses. “It was almost like the audience had been waiting for this for so long and at last they had something tangible to attach to Sandy Denny.”
“She wrote complex material,” Maddy adds, “but once you get under the skin of it you appreciate how much of herself she put into the songs. Some of the lyrics you take to be about one thing but in reality they’re about something entirely different. I always thought Solo was about leaving Fairport but it turns out not. Still a lovely song though.”
Jerry Donahue stands central, regaling visitors with memories of Sandy and Fotheringport. Blair Dunlop, son of Sandy’s Fairport colleague Ashley Hutchings and the youngest contributor, grins like he has to pinch himself to believe he’s really here, but he is more than holding his own in such august company. PP Arnold graciously accepts plaudits, telling everyone just how much she appreciates Sandy Denny’s canon. You just get the feeling from the atmosphere, the sheer upness of everyone, that this is how it should be have been for The Lady herself.
“The hall was full and that was justification enough,” Andrew relates between swapping congratulations. “Most all of the venues are looking like they’re going to be sold out and some already are. Sandy’s daughter Georgia, I suppose the person we have to convince more than any other, is thrilled by the way her mother’s name has become common currency again.”
I ask him if he thinks Sandy herself would approve? He smiles. “I hope so, it is after all about giving her a profile today and tomorrow. She can’t do it herself, can she?”
At press date, the Barbican concert was due to be broadcast on BBC 4 TV on Friday 14th September,
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