Authors: Anna Carey
It’s over! The North Dublin Summer Arts Camp is over! And I feel a bit weird. And a bit sad. But also not sad, because …
But I’ll start at the beginning.
Because it was the last day, we weren’t having any workshops at all. Instead, we were going to check out what everyone on the other bits of the course had been doing. As soon as we got into the arts building, Ellie ran up to us looking very nervous.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘Our art show’s going to start in a minute! Please come and say nice things about my stuff.’
We followed her into the art room where the exhibition was taking place. It looked really impressive. There were different sorts of artwork everywhere. Some people had done big oil paintings; others had done tiny watercolours. Some had made sculptures out of papier mâché and bits of metal; some had created brilliant embroidered pictures. But we went straight to Ellie’s bit of the show. Which was amazing. All her designs for the costumes were on display, and some of the actual costumes were hung on the walls.
‘Whoah,’ said Cass. ‘Ellie, you have come a long way from the days when you were Mrs Limond’s slave.’
‘Sorry you didn’t get to see the costumes on stage,’ said Alice, as we followed Ellie to the hall where the exhibition was taking place.
Ellie sighed. ‘I know. I was looking forward to seeing how Gemma was going to do that cheerleading routine in the jumpsuit. It took me ages to make it. Still,’ she brightened up a bit. ‘It was fun making them. And really good practice. I’ve decided I’m not going to buy any clothes from now on. Apart from, like, knickers and bras and stuff. And maybe jeans. I’m going to make all my own stuff instead.’
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘That’s very cool.’
‘Could you make stuff for other people too?’ said Cass.
‘Maybe,’ said Ellie. ‘I’ll see how I get on.’
Sam and Lucy’s comics were brilliant too. Especially Lucy’s. Her pictures were all strange and spiky. She’s definitely going to do more of the art in their joint comics from now on.
‘I can’t believe I left it so long to do all this drawing,’ she said.
‘And I’m going to write stuff too,’ said Sam.
Truly this summer has broadened all of our horizons. And Lucy was still wearing her glasses. She says it’s much more fun
when she can actually see everyone’s art work without putting her face right next to it.
Anyway, there was one last lunch in the canteen (I will miss that hideous place and its unflattering florescent lights. Okay, maybe not the lights). And then it was gigging time. We were all very excited, not just because we were going to play
ourselves
, but because Small Paula was on before us.
Of course, we were also looking forward to seeing Exquisite Corpse, who were up first. They were excellent, even though they’re not my sort of thing musically at all. But they’re such good performers. Tall Paula actually did do some prowling, which was very impressive. But at least we’d heard them before at various workshops. Small Paula’s music was still a total
mystery
.
‘At last, we’ll get to see exactly what Small Paula’s been doing all month!’ said Alice, after Exquisite Corpse had left the stage to our enthusiastic cheers.
‘I still think it’s going to be all folky stuff, with some beats,’ said Cass.
‘I think it’s going to be all ghostly and ethereal,’ I said.
‘I dunno,’ said Alice. ‘I still bet she sings like an opera singer.’
And then suddenly all the lights went out. A few people screamed, but then a deep voice − which belonged to Paula’s mentor Dave – boomed out over the sound system.
‘Welcome … to the world … of SMALL … PAULA!’
And then suddenly the back of the stage was full of a big projection with the words SMALL PAULA in giant capital letters. And in front of it, in the middle of the stage,
wearing
her giant sunglasses and surrounded with keyboards and pedals and a laptop, was Small Paula herself. She was holding an electric guitar.
Cass, Alice and I stared at each other in amazement.
Small Paula hit a key on her keyboard, and a drum beat filled the air. Then she played a loud riff on her guitar and stood on a pedal, and the riff started playing again and again in a loop. She played a bassline on the keyboard, hit the pedal again, and the bassline kept playing. She kept doing this until there were loads of different bits of music all going at the same time. It was all very loud. It certainly wasn’t all floaty and
ethereal
. And it wasn’t folky either. It should have sounded like a mess, but it sounded …
‘Amazing!’ whispered Alice.
She was right. And then Small Paula leaned towards the
microphone and started to sing. She didn’t sound anything like her usual quiet voice. It was like a sort of beautiful roar. You couldn’t even tell what she was saying, but it didn’t matter. It was all really loud, and it should have all been just noise, but there was a tune in there somewhere. It didn’t sound like
anything
I’d ever heard, but I knew I liked it. And as she played, strange but cool images were projected onto the back of the stage – foxes and other woodland creatures, and abstract shapes. It looked so cool.
‘Small Paula is a genius,’ I whispered to Cass.
‘She’s my new heroine,’ Cass whispered back.
‘And see how much she liked being called Small Paula!’ I said. ‘She’s using it as her stage name!’
When she finished her first song, there was dead silence for a moment, and then everyone started cheering. Small Paula cracked a smile, just for a second. Then she just nodded and started the next song, which was as noisy and crazy and
brilliant
as the last one. She didn’t say anything between songs, but that added to her mystique. In fact, by the time she
finished
her set to rapturous applause, everyone was so impressed by her we were really nervous about following her on stage.
‘I think we might need more stage presence,’ said Cass. ‘I
mean, look at Small Paula! She was just standing there and not saying anything, but it didn’t matter! I don’t think we could pull that off.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I knew I should have tried harder at being enigmatic and mysterious.’
‘What?’ said Alice.
‘Nothing,’ I said.
‘We’ll be fine,’ said Alice firmly. ‘Small Paula does her thing, and we’ll do ours.’
And then we had to go and do it. Small Paula’s equipment was taken off stage, Cass’s keyboard and our extra microphones were taken on, our takeaway boxes of sweets with their little Hey Dollface signs were placed along the front of the stage, and then Kitty walked up to the mike and said, ‘Hi, I’m Kitty, in case you don’t know! And I’m very proud to welcome to the stage the brilliant … Hey Dollface!’
‘Okay,’ said Cass. ‘This is it.’ She looked at me and grinned. ‘Try not to fall off anything.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I said, took a deep breath, and walked onto the stage as the audience cheered. Luckily, my drum stool was on a nice flat bit of stage, and there was absolutely nothing to fall off. Which I have to admit did make me feel a bit better. I
mean, you tell yourself lightning never strikes twice, but you never know. It would be just my luck to fall over again.
‘Hello,’ said Alice, looking straight out at the audience in a very confident, rock-star-ish fashion, just the way Kitty taught us. ‘We’re Hey Dollface. On guitar, I’m Alice Sheridan.’ There was a big cheer. ‘On keyboards, Cass McDermott!’ And there was an absolutely huge cheer. Cass looked a bit embarrassed, but she couldn’t help smiling. ‘And on drums, Rebecca Rafferty!’ There was quite a big cheer for me, not as big as Cass’s, but I didn’t mind really because all those people cheering her showed they were on her side, not horrible gay-hating Charlie. And then I did a big drum roll, and we started playing ‘The Real Me’, the first proper song we ever wrote, and everyone whooped and clapped.
I tried to remember everything we’d learned, from Kitty and from all the workshops. And as the song came together, it was like when we played at the Battle of the Bands, only better, because, after four weeks of rock camp, I really felt like I knew what I was doing. I stopped feeling nervous and just felt the music, and whenever I caught Cass’s or Alice’s eye I could tell they felt the same way. It wasn’t scary at all. It was just … fun. When we finished the first song and went into
‘Ever Saw in You’, as the John Kowalski song is now called, I felt so happy I almost laughed. And Cass was particularly
brilliant
. She’s had that tendency to get nervous about playing, but she didn’t seem nervous at all. She didn’t even look down at her keyboard most of the time − she just fixed her gaze out on the audience like a total badass. She looked so cool.
I felt, no, I
knew
that we looked like a proper band. And we felt like one too. Our set was only five songs, but I didn’t want it to end. It wasn’t like we played the greatest gig ever − there were a few wonky notes, and once I nearly dropped my
drumsticks
. But the rest of the time, it was just really, really good. And the crowd seemed to like it, too. When we finished, there was another huge cheer.
‘Thanks everyone!’ said Alice. ‘You’ve been a great audience. And to say thanks, we’ve made you some sweets! They’re at the front of the stage, so help yourself.’ Everyone cheered even more when they heard that. When we got off the stage, Kitty ran up and gave us each a huge hug.
‘I’m so proud of you, ladies!’ she said. ‘You were brilliant.’ She took a bite of orange fudge and looked quite startled. ‘And surprisingly talented sweet-makers.’
She was brilliant too. We were really lucky to have her.
‘And you’ve got to stay in touch now all this is over,’ she said. ‘I want to know how you’re getting on.’
‘You’ll have to come to the Knitting Factory and see us,’ said Alice, hopefully.
‘You couldn’t keep me away,’ said Kitty.
‘Aw, I’m going to miss Kitty,’ I said, after we’d said our final farewell.
‘I hope we’ll remember everything she taught us,’ said Cass.
‘Of course we will,’ said Alice. ‘Look at Richard! I don’t think he’ll forget anything he learned from Ian Cliff.’
I caught Cass’s eye for a second and then looked away. Much as we love Richard, and much as we like his outlandish stage antics, I think we both agreed that he has had enough of Ian Cliff for the moment.
And then Ian Cliff himself came up to us.
‘That was really good,’ he said. ‘I especially liked the
reference
to a tercel in that “Ever Saw in You” song.’
‘Really?’ I said, amazed. ‘That’s brilliant. I didn’t think anyone knew what a tercel was!’
‘I’m a great admirer of birds of prey,’ said Ian Cliff. And then he smiled. He looked a lot less intense and intimidating then. ‘Keep up the good work, girls.’ And off he went.
‘Wow,’ said Alice. ‘I must tell Richard that Ian Cliff likes falcons and stuff. It might give him some inspiration for the new Wicked Ways songs.’
I suppose Ian Cliff is pretty nice, really. But I still think
Richard
has spent enough time with him for the moment. God knows what he’d be like if rock camp went on much longer. He’d probably start talking in his booming stage voice all the time. So to change the subject, Cass started talking about where to meet Liz before the party tonight. She isn’t really nervous about Liz coming now, which is cool. So I’m going to meet all of them at the gates, and we’ll go in to the party together.
Anyway, the whole course was pretty much over after the gig. Veronica and Tom came out and thanked us all for taking part, and we all gave them and the mentors a round of applause, and that was it. I felt a bit sad as we walked out the gates for the last time − I know it’s not really the last time, because we’re going back later. But we all knew it was the end of the course. It’s been so much fun, despite Charlie. And just think, we’d never have known about it if it weren’t for Vanessa and Karen. Who’d have thought they’d end up being the saviours of our summer?
I am very tired, but last night was so much fun. I met Cass and Liz at the gates, and when we arrived at the Orchestra Room I barely recognised it − there was a big glitter ball hanging from the ceiling, and there were fairy lights everywhere and a table with loads of crisps and fizzy drinks and stuff.
‘Wow, this is amazing,’ said Liz, as Alice ran over to get Richard, who was looking intensely at the crisps. (Alice says he finds choosing between snacks surprisingly difficult. He once spent ten minutes deciding between salt and vinegar Pringles and cheese and onion Kettle Chips.) ‘Did it always look like this? Apart from the, you know, beverages and food and stuff.’
‘No, it was usually much more boring,’ I said. ‘They’ve really gone all out!’
‘Though it’s not as fancy as the last big event we were at,’ said Cass. ‘Remember all the glitter at Vanessa’s crazy Big Birthday Bash? I wish this party had a pink pony too.’