Hayley Westenra (19 page)

I'm going to begin this final chapter by writing about something that I touched upon in the very first chapter, when I told you the story of my pride at performing the New Zealand national anthem on the pitch of the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff, ahead of the All Blacks' match against Wales.

In a similar way, I was particularly proud at the beginning of 2007 to be asked to sing at the
ANZAC Day Memorial
Service, which happens at six o'clock in the morning. It was a huge honour to sing in front of the veterans both at the service and afterwards at a local
marae
(a Maori meeting house). As we drank coffee laced with a drop of rum and munched on divine Anzac biscuits, I reflected on the bond I have with my homeland, which has done nothing but strengthen since I've started to spend the majority of my time in other parts of the world. It was a very special day for me and, whenever I'm singing a song on behalf of my fellow New Zealanders, I do become very emotional. And unashamedly so.

On my first stay in London when I was fifteen, I pined for New Zealand; my family and friends; the country that I had grown up with. I felt quite the foreigner amid the hustle and bustle of London's busy roads, where there's constant movement and energy. I've grown to love London now, but being away has made me appreciate the wide, empty streets of Christchurch and the sheer amount of space that we are all able to enjoy in New Zealand.

I missed out on going on the normal OE, or overseas experience. It's a real rite of passage for young Kiwis, after school or university, to take a year out travelling to different parts of the world.
Fiona Pears, the violinist who usually performs with me, alongside my musical director and pianist Ian Tilley, is another Kiwi from Christchurch who is living in London. She often talks about her big OE backpacking around Europe and about all the friends she made while doing it. Sometimes, I think to myself how amazing it would be if I disappeared with a rucksack and travelled across France, Spain and Italy. It sounds absolutely amazing, but I'm not sure that it will be something that I'll ever get around to, because I enjoy my work so much. I certainly don't feel that I've missed out because I've worked; I've just done things in a different way from usual. Arguably, I've spent the past five years on the biggest OE that any Kiwi has ever had.

After the success of
Pure,
when I was still only sixteen or seventeen, I guess that I was not quite so aware of how lucky I was. It's only just now that I'm realising how harsh the world is and how cutthroat life can be. To have an opportunity like this is just incredible and I feel very fortunate to be in this situation. My hobby is my job and my job is my hobby.

If I took time out to backpack around Europe, I would miss my work. I've mentioned in earlier chapters that I'm quite a focused person, so I suspect that I would spend the whole trip wondering what I should be doing to further my singing career. It's important to me and I've always wanted to be a singer from as early as I can remember.

I was quite shy as a child, but I was quietly driven. I've always been that way. Even my parents were sometimes quite surprised when I showed my drive. These days, though, they have a better picture of who I am. I guess that I still come across as quite a laid-back person and I put a lot of that down to my upbringing in New Zealand.

I'm aware that having a star in the family has not always been easy for everyone. To a certain extent, my brother and sister have had to grow up with a big sister whom everybody knows and talks about. I think the hardest part for them was when I was aged between fourteen and seventeen. Those few years must have been really tough on Sophie and Isaac because Mum and Dad spent a lot of their time touring with me as I went off around the world for the first time. There was also a lot of media attention and they had to put up with 'Hayley this' and 'Hayley that' or 'I saw Hayley on this show' at every turn. For that reason, I think it has been great over the past couple of years that Mum and Dad have been at home looking after them, while I've been away doing my own thing. I would still like to be there more often to be a big sister, especially to Sophie. I miss doing the regular girly things that sisters take for granted.

I did need to spread my wings, though. As I grew older, I became more independent and less reliant on Mum and Dad. In the end, they told me that they started to feel like spare wheels as they followed me around. They themselves wanted me to start to look after myself. It's a natural part of changing from a child to an adult. It's a tricky thing to get right, though, especially when you're making that change in the public eye. I think that's why, so often, child stars have very public and spectacular fallings-out with their parents, especially when the parent has been operating as a manager as well as a mum or a dad. It always makes for a good story in the newspapers and there have been some very well-publicised instances over the past few years.

That was never the case with the relationship between me and my mum and dad. I found the process very hard. I desperately wanted them to know that I was not just brushing them aside. There was no falling-out and they are still a vital part of what I do. They understand that I'm at an age where I'm capable of looking after myself. They enjoyed the travelling and the sights that they saw around the world. Dad relished the visits to Japan and Mum loved hanging out with me in London. But nowadays they gain more fulfilment by being at home and knowing that they are looking after Sophie and Isaac, who are at an age where they need their mum and dad around them. They are great parents who are there for them night and day, just as they were there for me at that time in my life.

I am still amazed and excited by the opportunities that come my way. Only recently, I flew to Derry and sang in front of the
Dalai Lama, which was a huge honour. Richard Moore, a remarkable man, who runs a charity called Children in Crossfire, invited me there. As a young boy in Northern Ireland, he was shot in the eye and blinded by a soldier. When he was older, he decided that he wanted to see the soldier in question and to let him know that he forgave
him. It must have taken a lot of courage on both their parts to meet up. The Dalai Lama heard their story and wanted to meet them. I performed 'Pokarekare Ana' and 'Danny Boy' at a special event, held in honour of His Holiness. I was thrilled to shake hands with him and he gave me one of his famous warm smiles. His speech was particularly inspiring and I was struck by the way in which his message crosses all divides. In a much smaller way, I hope that my music also crosses divides.

Going on the Celtic Woman tour has helped to toughen me up. I used to be quite precious if I failed to get my nine hours' sleep every night and to worry that I was therefore going to perform at a level below expectations. I do get quite uptight about following a routine that I'm comfortable with, whereas when I was with Celtic Woman, I had no choice but to be relaxed about the whole thing. At first, after each show, I used to feel that I should get straight to sleep in my bunk on the coach. Then I thought, You know what? Sometimes it's good just to stay up and chat a bit, to be sociable. It taught me that, if I'm a little more relaxed about everything, my work will not automatically suffer.

During the past few weeks, while I've been writing this book, I've realised that the same thing is true about the way in which I separate my work life and my personal life. Until this point, I've been so focused on my work that it has been everything to me. I think that it will always be incredibly important to me because doing a job like this is, to a certain extent, a lifestyle choice and it gives me so much pleasure. But I do need to become better at drawing the line. Sometimes, it's good to go out, to party and to let my hair down. I think that it could actually benefit my work because I'll be slightly more balanced as an individual and less uptight about things. I still have to find that balance and that is something that I'm still working out for myself at the moment.

It does not mean that I'm about to go off the rails and throw all of my self-discipline out of the window. I'll never smoke and I'll never go out drinking alcohol before a gig. But recently I've learned to be a little more relaxed on my days off and I think this has helped to put me in a better frame of mind. It can be quite draining to be constantly focused on work. Sometimes, I feel that I have to try new things to break up the routine. It's interesting that right through my teenage years I've never rebelled. I suppose I was too busy having a fantastic time making records, performing in concerts and meeting new people in different places around the world, to find anything to rebel against. I've always said that I might rebel against something one day, though. And, when it comes, it's going to be spectacular!

There was never a time when I decided to be a singer. Instead, I just followed my voice. I was never entirely sure about what style I wanted to get into, so I tried everything. My ideas have changed from year to year and from album to album. I always knew that I didn't want to concentrate solely on one type of singing and, when I was younger, I actively set out to cross genres. Recently, I've been enjoying discovering different parts of my voice and have started to develop my own personal sound.

As a singer ages and they practise more, their voice acquires more depth. Only recently do I feel that my voice has become more secure and settled – not
completely
settled, but noticeably more so than it was a year ago. That is a very exciting place for me to be, because younger voices can be very fragile instruments. This is not something that is specific to me: all singers go through this gradual change.

Recently, I've found myself starting to enjoy singing more operatic pieces with a truer operatic sound. That is because my voice is feeling more grounded. It has made me think seriously about taking my music in a more operatic direction.
But don't hold me to this, because my ideas change constantly. Although opera might come to the fore for a period, I don't think that I ever want to give up singing my other styles.

If someone forced me to define what I do at the moment, I would say that my style of singing is contemporary classical. It's a label I'm very comfortable with. I do like to challenge myself and I do like variety. I definitely don't want to build a career based on the same old handful of songs. Certainly, at times, I do crave a bit of routine, but change and moving forward are important. They are a big part of what I am.

Some people have natural talent and some people have 'learned talent'. I would put myself somewhere in the middle. When it comes to my singing, it has always been a very organic process, where I've followed my natural sound, letting my voice lead the way. But it has definitely helped that I've had violin and piano lessons to teach me how to read music. Any professional singer these days needs to be able to follow a score.

For example, when I'm recording a song for a film soundtrack, I'm usually handed the song for the first time on the day. If you are recording with an orchestra, you need to be able to count the bars. I find myself counting away frantically because I don't want to muck things up in front of all the players. Being able to sight-read music is a necessity rather than a luxury and that is a piece of advice that I would give to anyone who wants a serious career as a professional singer.

I've realised that you do have to be tough in this business and I've become more confident in myself and in my own abilities and opinions. In the record business, you hear of so many people who are dropped and disappear without trace. One minute they are signed; they release an album; the record company get what they want out of them; and then
they drop them like a stone. I've come to realise that you have to be tough because the world outside is a tough place.

I was lucky in that I had my opportunity quite young. That meant that I didn't have to go through years of knocking on record companies' doors. My record contract was never handed to me on a silver plate, but, equally, I didn't go through twenty years of rejections, either. Because I achieved what I did at the age that I did, it has taken me a little bit longer to realise how tough the industry is. I've learned that I do need to be a little more ruthless than comes naturally to me. But I'm pretty sure that I've not turned into a heartless person – not yet, at least! When fame hit, my friends stood by me. It's really important for me to have a circle of buddies whom I knew before the moment that my records became successful.

As I come to the end of the final chapter of this book, there are still lots of questions that face me. I don't know where I'm going to end up living permanently. I'm loving London at the moment, but New Zealand is my home. I do intend to do lots more travelling.

Top of my list is Brazil, which I've been promising my best friend, Sophie Brinkers, I'll visit with her for the last few years. How can you possibly have a favourite country until you've seen all of the countries in the world? Music is a bit like that too; it's a journey. A lot of people do their own personal musical exploration out of the public eye. Then, once they have a fix on their place in the landscape, they share it with everyone else on an album. But I've made my musical journey in the public eye and I know that there's so much left for me to discover.

So this is the story, in my own words, of the first twenty years of my life. There's plenty more to come from me and perhaps, in another twenty years' time, I'll sit down to write a second instalment. I've had some amazing experiences already, more than most people pack into an entire lifetime.
I've loved every minute of the roller-coaster ride so far and there's no way that I want to get off.

As I wrote back in the Introduction, all those pages ago, I hope that becoming well known for my singing has not changed me one little bit. I don't think it has. In my mind, I'm still little old Hayley from Christchurch in New Zealand.

I really am just like any other twenty-year-old, except that I've made some albums and have performed in some concerts – and now I seem to have written my very own book as well.