Hayley Westenra (7 page)

Filming a PBS special for American television with my sister Sophie

At the Classical Brit Awards, 2006

The Westenra family together for the launch of my album Odyssey

When you are a teenager, you are so conscious of not being 'cheesy', but, as I couldn't come up with anything better (bearing in mind the school year was coming to an end and my head was also trying to deal with maths sums and science equations), I let the title be.
My Gift to You
it was.

I recorded the album in less than a week. For the first time, I was allowed to have some say in the tracks that I recorded and I said no to
'Once in Royal David's City' and no to
'Away in a Manger'. What a thrill! The tracks were being decided upon while we were on the tour. One of the musicians supporting me, a violinist called
Ben Morrison, was a friend from my class at school. When we were in Auckland, we had half an hour to spare after we had checked out of the hotel and were waiting for our ride, so Ben and I raced down to a local music store and flicked through the CDs there. Looking for inspiration on tracks that I could record for the Christmas album, I came across a Kathleen Battle CD of spirituals and, recognising the name, wondered if there would be something interesting on it. I asked the shopkeeper if I could have a listen to the disc. I skimmed through the tracks, stopping at one that grabbed me from the first few notes. It was called
'Mary Did You Know?' I loved the song the instant I heard it and I knew that I just had to sing it. I had never really felt that way about a song before. Previously, it had been a more matter-of-fact process, where I would agree that a song suited my voice and then we would record it.

For the first time, I had formed a real connection with a song and I was very excited about my discovery. I ran down Queen Street back to the hotel, album in hand, very eager to share my news. When the time came to make the final decisions about the Christmas CD, I knew that I wanted to include it more than any other track. It was my first editorial decision and it gave me a big boost in confidence when it became one of the big songs from the album.

Gaining confidence when you are working with recording-industry professionals is a very gradual process. With every album, I'm getting a little bit more confident. Other tracks on that album included
'You'll Never Walk Alone', which became one of my big live concert tracks, and
'Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire', which I enjoyed because it was slightly more like a pop song in its style – laid back, while retaining its original warmth and cosiness.

My Gift to You
was the first album on which I sang new material that had been written especially for me, and that made me extremely proud of the opening track,
'All I Have to Give'. There were some old favourites, too: 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow', which I perfected as a singing telegram, and what has ended up becoming my signature song, 'Pokarekare Ana'. I was also really excited that the big bosses had let my sister Sophie, who was eleven at the time, sing backing vocals on two of the tracks, 'Do You Hear What I Hear?' and
'Through These Eyes'. We are so close that it was nice to be able to have her on the album. However, I was also quite nervous for her as well. During the recording, I enjoyed taking on the role of overprotective big sister, giving her encouragement and what little advice I had.

The process of making the album was slightly unusual. We were so tight for time that two producers were employed:
David Selfe, who had made my first Universal album, and
Jim Hall. Each was given half of the album to work on. Once I had finished working on all the tracks that Jim had pre-prepared, we still had one song to find. He picked up some songbooks in the studio and started to flick through them trying to find some inspiration. I watched over his shoulder.

'Oh, I know that one – "Morning Has Broken",' I said, just as he was about to turn the page past it.

So he picked up his guitar and I sang along as he strummed the accompaniment. We went straight into the
studio and recorded it moments later. It was as quick as that – on the spot. It meant that my second Universal Music album was complete.

I was starting to get the hang of working in recording studios. I've never been one of those artists who have superstitions or rituals around going into the studio, but I do like to have some healthy snack food to munch on between takes to keep my energy levels up. I always take a little container of chopped vegetables and fruit – strawberries, carrot sticks, celery sticks, that sort of thing. I never eat dairy-based foods before singing because – and here I must apologise for the graphic detail – dairy tends to make you overproduce phlegm, which clogs your throat. There's a risk of your singing with a frog in your throat, which wouldn't be pleasant for either the singer or those people listening to the album.

These are the sorts of tips that I learned from
Dame Malvina Major, who is one of New Zealand's greatest operatic stars. She gave me some lessons and I trusted her opinions completely. Dame Malvina passed on a lot of advice to me in terms of singing technique, which has remained with me ever since. It was a real privilege to be able to spend time with her because, up until that point, I had had lessons with various teachers, but I had never really felt confident in my singing technique. I was very much relying on my natural voice. Even now, I still believe that I've a lot more work to do on my voice and I'm looking forward to a quiet period in my schedule, when I can focus on my singing technique.

I immediately respected Dame Malvina. I was also a little bit scared of her at first because I had this record contract and I was selling albums. I wrongly assumed that she would be thinking to herself, Who
is
this girl? She's out making records, when she hasn't even done her studying yet.

But I needn't have worried. She was encouraging and supportive in every possible way. She gave me
one particularly important piece of advice: 'Stay true to yourself.' She never pushed me down the classical route into opera and, at the same time, she didn't look down her nose at my classical-crossover record contract, either.

At one point, a friend of hers heard me sing and said, 'Rip up your record contract! Go and do your study! You have potential to be a great opera singer, but you'll never make it if you stick with your record contract.' He certainly was not a very open-minded man. Much to my annoyance, he nearly made me cry, because, yes, I'm quite a sensitive soul! I felt better when Dame Malvina called us up later that evening and told me to ignore what he had said and to keep on going.

The success of my first Universal album had excited everyone at the record company in New Zealand. George Ash moved to Australia to run Universal Music there but he worked with his successor,
Adam Holt, to interest the international side of Universal in working with me.

Record companies can be complicated places with lots of different labels and companies operating under one umbrella organisation. Sometimes they compete and sometimes they work together. Sometimes they appear to work together but
turn out to have been competing all along. Although Universal Music New Zealand is a massive company on its own turf, it's relatively small when it comes to the rest of the world. To have taken an album by one of its artists and marketed it to all of the other Universal Music record companies in each of the territories around the world would have been too great a risk for Universal Music New Zealand to have taken.

The international dimension came along in the shape of
Costa Pilavachi, who, at the time, was president of Decca Music Group. He was also part of the umbrella Universal Music company, and his role was to develop artists who would make records that would sell in different territories around the world. Decca is one of the best loved and most respected classical-music labels, and has been home to many of the genre's greatest stars, such as the conductor
Sir Georg Solti, who enjoyed a lifetime contract with them.

A copy of my debut self-titled album found its way to the Decca Music Group's headquarters in London. I believe it's
Jean-Hughes Allard, working in the A&R (Artists and Repertoire) division, that I have to thank sincerely for this next development in my career. I'm told he was playing my disc in his office rather loudly, and it caught the attention of Costa Pilavachi, who was working in his office just down the corridor. He liked what he heard and immediately got in touch with Universal Music New Zealand. Although George Ash and Adam Holt were absolutely behind the idea of my working with Decca to move on to the international stage, the people at Decca still had to be convinced that I was a good investment and, rather than send an underling all the way from their headquarters in London, Costa himself flew thousands of miles down to New Zealand.

I was performing in a concert in Wellington and it was arranged that Costa would watch me sing before coming to see us at home in Christchurch afterwards. I met him briefly
at the hotel. He seemed a very charming and stylish man, the sort of person whose authority you instantly recognise. He was just that sort of guy and I was in awe of him because I knew that he was a big shot from the UK.

When he flew down to Christchurch, it was a huge deal in the Westenra household. Mum put Dad in charge of organising a restaurant where we could take him out to dinner. He booked a place on the Strip in Christchurch, an area filled with lots of cafes, bars and restaurant. When Costa was picked up at the airport, we noticed that he had taken one of Christchurch's posh cabs.

Suddenly, Mum started to panic that the restaurant that we had booked was not posh enough. So, at the last minute, we changed the booking to an Italian place called Palazzo, which is one of Christchurch's smartest eateries and is well known for its extensive wine list. It was a stroke of genius and we all got on exceptionally well there. It turned into a very successful evening, which was a real relief for all of us.

Costa is a very cultured man and he charmed the restaurant owner when he came over to chat. The waitresses were very knowledgeable about the food and wine and Costa, who appeared to be a man who liked the finer things in life, really appreciated this. Throughout the meal, Mum, Dad and I gave each other little glances of approval. We were very pleased with ourselves that we had chosen the right restaurant.

Costa was very jovial and showed a lot of interest in the whole family, and he went out of his way to include Sophie and Isaac in the conversation. I could sense that Mum and Dad were warming to him as well, because he was interested in what my brother and sister had to say, as opposed to directing all his attention on me. Mum was very proud when he commented on the fact that we all looked like healthy children. It was something that she reminded everyone of regularly for some time afterwards!.

Costa also came to visit us at home and this was the cue for even more nervousness from the Westenras. I have to admit that I was really embarrassed about his coming to see our house because I assumed that he had been to the absolute top places around the world. Here was this international record-company big shot coming to little old Hayley's home, a regular house in Christchurch, with clutter all around the place – even though as many of the offending items as possible had been put away out of sight before his arrival.

Looking back on it, I realise I probably shouldn't have felt like that. I'm much more comfortable with who I am and where I've come from these days. And it didn't seem to make a difference to Costa what sort of house we lived in. He made everybody feel very much at home, which was odd because we actually were at home and he was the visitor.

Now that I've travelled around the world, I've seen the sorts of houses in which people live in other countries and I've come to realise how lucky we are in New Zealand. In fact, our home in Christchurch is in a beautiful location, with a large backyard in a grassy area surrounded by trees. It may not be a mansion in New Zealand terms, but it's huge compared with the space that most people have in a city such as London and it's absolutely massive compared with the space in which people live in somewhere far more densely populated, such as Hong Kong.

Now, I can understand that I should not have been embarrassed at all because there's nothing wrong with our house. But, at the time, I just assumed that Costa was going to be kind of disappointed in it.

Mum really picked up on Costa's view that I should not just be plucked out of my family unit and flown halfway around the world. Instead, he stressed how important it would be for the whole family to be involved. This reassured
Mum, since it had been something that had been gnawing away at her.

It was a pretty big thing for me to be working with Universal Music New Zealand, but then, suddenly, here was this global record company showing an interest. To be honest with you, in my naivety, I didn't realise its significance. I just assumed that the next step for everyone who had made an album was to move on to an international release. I was not aware that a local Universal Music company couldn't finance that and it was unlikely to happen without help from the international part of the company. I just assumed that the album would be handed over to other companies and somehow I would find myself on the other side of the world.

Costa flew home and he must have liked what he had seen, because, shortly afterwards, the deal was done between Decca Music Group and Universal New Zealand. I was lucky enough to become a Decca artist, which is an amazing privilege, because it's a record company that can really make things happen for an artist.

The deal was done in the background. I must admit that I was not really aware of all the negotiations that were happening between Universal Music in New Zealand and Decca. Before I knew it, I had a contract. We employed a music-industry lawyer,
Campbell Smith, to go through the terms. When it came to actually signing the deal, I had to sit in the Universal Music offices with a massive document in front of me, every page of which had to be initialled. Campbell had been impressed by the fact that, at our previous meeting, I was asking questions about the contract as he went through it with me, but really I was not that interested at all. I was just being polite! I trusted my lawyer to look out for my best interests.

All I was excited about was making music and recording albums. I had been offered a five-album deal, which,
although it sounds amazing, is actually fairly standard in the record industry. What tends to be missed out from the press releases that announce these deals is the absolute certainty that, if the first album doesn't sell enough copies, the other four will fail to materialise. I was not really worried about how much money I would earn from the contract, or for how long it was tying me to Decca. However, I did realise fairly quickly that it's the artist who tends to pay for everything. My parents have always been good at explaining things to me. They have never treated me like a child, so I've always been aware of how the financial side of things is structured.

Signing to Decca created one particularly big change for me. I would need to spend a lot of time away from home, both to make the album and then to promote it. There would be an awful lot of travel and so many different hotels in so many different cities, in every conceivable time zone, that I would lose count. It seemed like a fantastic adventure.

It would create a challenge for us as a family. Either Mum or Dad would need to travel with me as a chaperone, leaving the other parent to look after Sophie and Isaac, back at home. Mum travelled with me on our first trip to London. We would be away for a few months, so it was a real wrench leaving the other three behind. I chatted excitedly to the lady at the check-in desk, telling her where we were off to, and she wished me luck. Dad, Sophie and Isaac waved to us as we passed through the barriers into the departure lounge. Not long afterwards, we were sitting on an Air New Zealand plane as it taxied down the runway. I turned to Mum and said, 'Oh my gosh! This is it!'

It was my first big trip overseas. Previously, I had only ever been to Australia a couple of times for concerts and once to Hawaii as a three-year-old, when Dad had won a trip in a competition. Otherwise, the North Island was the extent of my travelling horizons. Usually, our holidays were
local camping trips. Many families went to Australia for regular holidays but for us the money was spent on things such as music and ballet lessons.

I noticed that we had been put in business class on the plane, which made the whole flight even more exciting. I was not sad to be leaving – it was the beginning of a whole new adventure. I loved the service on the plane. It's something I still enjoy now. Although I'm usually a very careful eater, I said yes to everything that was offered to me: the nuts with the drinks, all of the meals, the dessert, the cheese and even the chocolate. I was relishing the whole experience.

I started to appreciate just how far away New Zealand was from the rest of the world. It was a long flight, which we broke up with an overnight stay in Los Angeles. While we were there, I became sick and ended up with a sore throat. I think that the initial excitement had evaporated slightly and I was starting to become nervous about what was to come. Because my throat was not feeling great, I became even more stressed. After all, I was about to meet the people from my record company for the first time and would need to perform for them. I also had only a hazy idea of what would be happening to me over the next few months and that added to the nerves.

We were in LA for the first time and I've taken a few years to warm to the city because of this initial experience. We were staying at an airport hotel, which was not great, and I was feeling sick. Mum and I decided to go for a walk to take in some fresh air. We have since learned that walking around this area of LA is simply not the done thing and we were a little confused as to why cars kept tooting at us.

We went back to the hotel and the restaurants were shut. We needed some food, but were reluctant to order room service because it looked so expensive. In the end, I ate a bowl of onion soup, which had way too much salt in it. It did nothing to alleviate my glumness. Only recently have I
come to terms with the price of room service. I've now actually got over the fact that sometimes it's going to be expensive. At the end of the day, you've got to eat. I used to worry about it, but now I've become a little more relaxed about the whole thing.

When I stayed in foreign cities, I used to avoid eating out at restaurants as well because they were so expensive. Instead, I would go to the supermarket and make up my own meal from what I could find on the shelves there. It probably came to more than the price of a meal at the hotel in the first place.

The following morning, we boarded another plane for the final leg of the flight to
London. I was feeling rather miserable because my throat was still playing up. I was increasingly stressed about what was to come. My mood didn't improve when we landed at a freezing cold Heathrow Airport and my mind drifted back to the lovely warm temperatures that we had left behind back home in Christ-church.

We were met at the airport and driven to a flat right opposite Decca's offices in west London. My mood lifted considerably. It was a beautiful place and JJ, a lovely man from Decca Music Group who had been put in charge of looking after us, had gone to a lot of trouble to make it seem welcoming for us, even putting a bag of chocolate Easter eggs in a bowl on the table and stocking the fridge with food for us. Although I had seen only very little of London, I was struck by how busy it seemed compared with home. The area around the flat struck me as being very cosmopolitan and exotic and my sense of adventure kicked back in. Things were looking up.

Mum and I had a great time in the flat. She would cook meals every evening, which we would eat in front of the television – we developed a real passion for British TV and we were already fans of
Coronation Street,
which runs back
home. I became equally passionate about eating canned sticky-toffee pudding with milk poured over the top. British friends tell me this is a really weird thing to do and I should eat it with custard, but I enjoyed the contrast of the refreshing cold milk and the hot sticky-toffee pudding.

We loved spending my days off exploring the local shops. We had a habit of always converting the prices back to New Zealand dollars. Because the cost of living is far lower in Christchurch than it is in the centre of London, this meant that we would be able to justify buying only the very cheapest clothes, which didn't always look as great as they might have done. We loved visiting the charity shops. We call them 'op shops' back home – which is short for 'opportunity shops'. You might think that, with a new five-album international record deal, I would have spent my time buying up the latest fashions from
haute couture
boutiques, whereas, in reality, I spent hours searching out bargains, because everything seemed so expensive in London.