Public Musicology Assignment

Before coming to New Zealand did you wonder about its history? What it meant for something to be culturally significant to Aoteroa? Or possibly, how music intertwines with its heritage? If the latter is something you have pondered, then this article is for you. Allow me to introduce you to the 1916 Festival of New Zealand Music, a celebration of the countries music organised by Arthur Lilly. 

Firstly, a little background on the man himself. Arthur Lilly is a name that likely pops up often in certain circles within New Zealand, as he is a well-known composer. Born in Dunedin in 1882, Lilly was a musical prodigy. By five years old he was already very skilled at playing the organ and only seven years later, at age twelve, he filled the role of church organist. It seemed that his life path was already laid ahead of him. Lilly poured all his energy into pursuing a career in music and at twenty-one, he set sail for London to study at the Royal College of Organists. After his studies abroad he settled in Christchurch, which leads us to the festival itself (“lifetime in music,” 1959).

Arthur Lilly. Image courtesy of Barbara Divehall. All Rights Reserved.

Arthur Lilly was an advocate for New Zealand music, suggesting that the Canterbury Society of Musicians should offer a prize for compositions. He was very vocal in his view about the distinctive style of New Zealand music and pushed for more support for New Zealand-born composers, adding that “There is a lot of splendid talent among New Zealanders” and that “the time is ripe for its acknowledgment and encouragement.” With this the Society for the Encouragement of New Zealand Music was born, succeeded by the formation of the Festival Committee in September 1916. Lilly strongly believed that with the right encouragement and diligence New Zealand composers could produce incredible work, boasting that it would be different to the current German works in circulation. Given that this was during World War I, it is not surprising that the level of patriotism was high and finding a cultural identity was of upmost importance. 

This passion of his led to him pioneering for the Festival of New Zealand Music, however it was not without trouble. Although Lilly had the support and patronage of many notable figures, he had difficulty curating a selection of music with the limited timeframe available. Hence the first instalment of the Festival contained solely Arthur Lilly’s works. This included the works Life, Soldier’s Requiem, Christmas Joy and God is our Hope. Despite his passion and fervour towards this project, it was not deemed a success. In fact, several reviews in The Press took to the concert with determined pessimism. The attendance of the concert was low, pertaining to the “unfestive” feeling. I can’t help but wonder if this is due to the state of the world at the time, especially since the earlier Christchurch Exhibition of 1895 proved to be hugely popular. Could it be that this was simply poor timing? 

The Press. 1916, August 9. p. 1.

Perhaps the war had some significance and place in the concert. Lilly’s opening piece Soldier’s Requiem and Life, composed for the festival, referenced and were dedicated to soldiers and the war, with the latter being dedicated to Lilly’s brother Leslie for his service in the military. Life was set to the words of Wordsworth’s Immortality Ode, playing on the innocence of childhood, something that could become reflective and meditative for people of this time. Whether this was received by the audience or not, the critics did not look fairly upon it. 

The cultural significance of this event, despite its downfalls, was that it generated a movement towards creating New Zealand music and laid the road for other composers to tread upon. In the years following, the distinctive New Zealand sound and musical identity of the country began to build. While music already existed in post-colonialism New Zealand, it was heavily influenced by the music in Great Britain and it wasn’t until Lilly took to undertaking the festival did New Zealand start openly providing its own music. The festival itself attracted many overseas guests and their curiosity, posting their intentions of attending. There is little information around whether or not these foreign visitors attended the concert but judging by the sparse audience, it is likely that they were not in presence. Once again, given the time it is not surprising that it wasn’t the joyous and popular occasion Lilly had hoped for. 

I can’t help but think that during the quest to find New Zealand’s unique sound was the complete erasure of traditional Maori music. In later concerts of the festival series, some aspects of Maori song were included however they were interpreted through the eyes of colonialism hence destroying the long-established themes of indigenous music. There is an ongoing argument about whether music composed by New Zealand-born composers, in New Zealand for New Zealand is truly New Zealand music or just an interpretation of the popular world music of the time. 

References: 

A festival of New Zealand music. (1916, December 12). The Press, p. 4.

A lifetime in music. (1959, September 5). The Nelson Evening Mail, p. 10. 

Festival of music. (1916, December 12). Star, p. 5.

Nichol, E. (2018, November 30 to December 2). “To encourage New Zealand composers”: The Festivals of New Zealand Music, Christchurch, 1916 and 1918 [Paper Presentation]. Into the Unknown: 2018 Meeting of the New Zealand Musicological Society, Christchurch, New Zealand.

 

Away with the Lupins

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Wig - Taobao. Dress - Taobao » Oxygen Boutique.
Photos taken by @kohikaphotos
Shot on location in Lake Tekapo, New Zealand.

Wetlands | Sustainability

     

   

   
All photos by Kohika Weddings and Portraits - instagram

The walk at Travis Wetlands is one we do when we feel like something flat but rewarding with views. The Wetlands here are full of native wildlife and even a resident cat named Arkham.

It had been a while since we had last done a photo shoot so we made an impromptu decision to do one here. I want to talk about how I've been working towards making my closet more sustainable and this outfit is a perfect example of that.

               

                

Coat - Comptoir des Cottoniers (second hand). Dress - Kowtow (sample sale). Boots - Rollie (second hand). Beanie - Country Road (second hand).

The first step in cultivating a sustainable closet is to use what you already have. I have pieces in my closet from ten years ago and I still love them. If you take care of your clothes properly you can expect them to last a very long time. When I buy new pieces it always makes me happy to pair them with existing pieces and create new outfits, creating countless possibilities.

Buying second hand is an obvious way be more sustainable with fashion. Thrift shops have become increasingly popular in recent times and finding really original pieces that no one else has is always exciting for most. Along with your standard opshop there has been an increase in vintage stores and more high end second hand boutiques. Here in New Zealand we have Recycle Boutique which cultivates a selection of high end and designer pieces that have been well looked after by their previous owners. Of course buying from thrift stores is great but remember that if you have pieces of clothing you no longer wear and are in good condition donate them to your local store to continue creating that circular economy. My boots from this outfit are from Recycle Boutique.

Another way to own second hand items is through friends and family. I have a lot of pieces in my closet, like my beanie and coat in this look, which are from family members. My sister and I are constantly swapping clothes which refreshes our closet over and over again. It is always cool to see how certain pieces look on different people and how one garment can be worn in a entirely unique way by the new owner.

Lastly you can buy from ethical and sustainable brands. My dress is from Kowtow which is a sustainable brand here in New Zealand. An issue that is raised around sustainable brands is that they tend to cost more however this is understandable as they are paying fair wages to each employee in the supply chain and don't cut costs to allow for their pieces to last a lifetime. Combining two of my tips is to buy your ethical clothing second hand. For me, I bought all my Kowtow pieces at a sample sale. Sample sales is a great way to buy pieces of clothing that weren't sold during the season or clothing that is slightly defective but doesn't affect the integrity of the clothes, all at a discounted rate. Keep an eye out for sample sales in your area. At this particular sale I bought three pieces which I hope to share with you in future posts.



I'm hoping to create more posts around sustainability as this is something I am actively working towards.

Thank you for dropping by!

The Journey Thus Far: Part Two March '19 | Adjusting to Life as New Parents

March 2019 - The First Month

Our wee boy was absolute perfection. I remember laying in recovery, skin to skin with my son, while he slept peacefully. His first feed took over an hour as he would fall asleep every minute. In the end we fed him by syringe so he could get some rest. It only took 1mL of milk to fill his tiny stomach.



For the first few days he just slept. We had to set alarms every 3 hours to wake him up and feed him, both night and day. Each time he fell asleep on the breast we would have to wipe a cold cloth on his face so he could continue feeding. In his waking hours he had what we called “greyhound chatters” where his wee mouth was chattering away. This was the first symptom of his detox from my medication.



I was admitted to hospital for four days as the risk of postpartum psychosis was high. My partner stayed each and every day, sleeping on the floor beside me. By the fourth day I was ready to leave and had all my bags packed however when they weighed Riblet it showed that he had lost a significant amount of weight and we wouldn’t be able to leave until he gained something. I remember feeling dread around spending another night in hospital. I had cabin fever and was ready to go home and the guilt around my partner sleeping on the floor was becoming too much to bear.



That day we were instructed to do top ups of milk after every feed. I would pump all throughout the day and after each feed we would give him a bottle. He hated it and so did I. He was so full that he was adamant on not having a bottle and would vomit after each feed and I felt so guilty force feeding him. Thankfully he gained 20g over night and we were permitted to leave.



It was such a relief to finally be back home. Instantly I felt like I could breathe again and was looking forward to the next week and a half that my partner had off from work. It was the longest consecutive days we had spent together and it was magical. Every time I looked at Rohan that biggest smile would spread across my face and when my smile was so big it couldn’t grow anymore, I would laugh. My partner said to me he had never seen me so happy in my life and I was a beacon of love. My family was perfect and I wouldn’t swap it for the world.



In hospital we had organised a routine for feeding. In order for us to get enough sleep we took shifts with feeding. My partner would feed him anytime from when we went to bed til 2am and then I would feed him from 2am onwards. This meant we both got at least a six hour chunk of uninterrupted sleep and it was definitely our saving grace.

I recall being slightly worried about my abundant energy and the possibility of postpartum psychosis setting in but I tried to just enjoy the high and the energy while it lasted. I would wake up early in the morning, feed Riblet and then put him back to bed. I would spend a few hours each morning having time for myself and allowing my partner to get a much needed sleep in. I loved my morning routine and was thriving.

Once my partner started back at work things changed. I was bored and felt like an old cow just sitting and feeding constantly. I felt anxious and there was anger boiling up inside me. My high started fading away and the disrupted sleep caught up with me. My mind started ruminating on old wounds and I would get stuck in a negative spiral.
I find it hard to recall how I was feeling. I knew it wasn’t as bad as when I was pregnant but it was bad enough to warrant an emergency meeting with my psychiatrist at Mothers and Babies. It was decided that I would be admitted onto the ward to try and alleviate my symptoms. For some reason I didn’t think that I needed to tell anyone that I was going to be admitted but on a bad day I told my partner in a melancholic tone that I was going to go to hospital. He was quite shocked that I didn’t think to tell him earlier and I couldn’t come up with any reason why I hadn’t; I was apathetic about life.

The day before I was admitted I remember being full of rage. Not around anything specific but just angry at the world and everyone in it. I had a breakdown and began screaming outside. My parents came out to try and console me but they had also seen this side of me before and knew that they just had to wait it out. While my dad was outside with me we heard the gate open and he walked around to see who was coming in. Instantly I knew what had happened; someone had called the police.

The officer I talked to was very understanding and offered me support and after he left I went inside and starting packing my bags, feeling like the timing was right.

The Journey Thus Far: Part One Nov '18 - Feb '19

TRIGGER WARNING - talk of suicide.

How much can change in a year? Nine months? Six. Three. Even as little as one. Turns out, it’s an astronomical amount. I have been on a journey, a journey of self discovery and recovery, that has had equal parts triumph and disaster. I am not one often to reach out or be public about my struggles. At times I have shared my thoughts and feelings around my mental health. I even, at one point, started a YouTube video series where I talked about what is was like living with mental illnesses but as with most things in life, these feelings weren’t linear. Sometimes, I would be more than happy to talk about how things were and other times I would be so deeply ashamed that I would isolate myself and not speak. The latter occurred more often than not. Now, with slight trepidation, I have decided to share my journey in the hopes that one person finds comfort or hope in my story and struggles.

November 2018 - End of Second Trimester
November started with a trip to A&E and the beginning of what would be the worst months of my life. I was home alone when all of a sudden I felt as though my brain wasn’t getting any oxygen and was about to burst. A glimpse in the mirror saw that my face was beetroot red-purple and before I could pass out I quickly lay down on my bed. Struggling to stay conscious and with my heart racing and pounding I felt around for my phone and called my dad. He told me he would be home as quick as possible and to stay flat and wait; I didn’t dare move for fear that I would collapse with no one home. Upon my dad’s return my feet and hands were white with blue nails and I was shaking. We decided I needed to been seen and with much difficulty I crawled into the car and we headed for the hospital.

When we arrived a stretcher was brought out to the car and I was wheeled into the emergency room. As suspected, each time I sat up my blood pressure would drop which would then be followed by a period of tachycardia. Investigations begun into the cause of these symptoms. Blood was taken and ECGs and thorough ultrasounds and echos were performed but to no avail. After three attempts and the help from many nurses I managed to sit up and my blood pressure stabilised. The blood tests uncovered that I was very slightly anaemic but that wasn’t necessarily that cause of my ill health. There was speculation that Riblet (the nickname for our child) was pinching my femoral artery although that generally happened towards the end of the third trimester. Nonetheless I was sent home with the advice that if this should repeat I would lie on my left side until it passed, which could easily be a few hours.

The first few weeks after being in hospital were horrific. If I focused on my breathing my heart would race and skip beats; if I focused on slowing my heart I would start hyperventilating. My limbs were constantly tingling or numb and cold and a lot of the time I was bedridden. This didn’t sit well with me as up until now I had had an active pregnancy, this was definitely spurred on by the fact that when I became pregnant I was in the depths of my eating disorder with which a part was my intense exercise addiction.
I tried reading books or watching TV, distracting myself with any means possible but this only heightened my symptoms. Looking back now I know that this increase was caused by my high levels of anxiety. I could barely sleep and couldn’t travel so at this time my partner moved in with myself and my parents so he could be close to me. Living under my parents roof and practically confined to one room was a struggle for both of us and tension grew. I fell into a deep depression.

December 2018 - Beginning of Third Trimester
In the past I have suffered with psychosis however this has always been coupled with a manic episode and I had never experienced it in a depressed state. This all changed just before I entered my third trimester.
I remember feeling like I could hear the entire world, not only it’s occupants but the planet itself. The world was buzzing in my ears telling me the something was wrong and I struggled with not knowing who I was or where I was. The screaming began not long after these initial feelings. I would collapse onto the floor shouting at no one. Yelling at the top of my lungs that, “I hated them. I want to kill them.” I felt as though I was being electrocuted and that my brain was being rejected from my body, like a transplanted organ. I would get stuck standing in one place because moving forward would mean continuing this pain of existence and maybe if I stood still time would stop, life would stop. This always ended with another episode of screaming on the floor with fear and uncertainty in my eyes.
For about three weeks this continued, with several events each day. My whole family was treading on eggshells around me and were exhausted dealing with this. My partner would leave for work each morning drained and come home each day with the optimism that maybe it was over but was met with the same distress.

January 2019
I had finally came out of my terrifying episode but the pain wasn’t over. This month and the next were filled with white hot feelings of sadness, despair, fear and a overwhelming feeling of wanting to give up. Our antenatal class teacher had her fair share of peri and postnatal depression and could always tell when it had been a particularly bad day for me. I had many days where I cried for hours on end, until my nose bled and others when I sat in bed for three hours navigating a panic attack. After each occasion of intense emotion I would hold my stomach and say to Riblet, “I know it may seem scary out here but I promise I will get through this and when you come out you will be so loved and safe.” Despite my intentions, I didn’t believe I would get through this. There were times where I was asking people around me to kill me, to let me die. I was severely suicidal but there was no way I would do anything to hurt my baby. At my lowest points, I wished that something would go terribly wrong during childbirth and I would die. This thought reoccured frequently.

February 2019 - The Birth
My depression hadn’t eased and my mental health was deteriorating rapidly. Throughout my pregnancy I had been waiting for my referral to Mothers & Babies to go through, a specialist mental health service for pregnancy and parenthood. My relationship with my case manager with the community adult mental health services I was currently with was complicated and unpleasant so for most of my pregnancy I was dealing with everything with no professional input. I started with the new service at twenty-seven weeks and it was clear I needed help.

One day towards the end of February I was having a particularly bad day and my partner decided to take me for a drive and a walk on top of the hills. We arrived at the Sign of the Kiwi and climbed to a spot where we sat and talked. I started asking him questions around how he would care for our child if I couldn’t. I told him that I needed to know that Riblet would be taken care of because I was planning to take my life after he was born. At this very moment a huge truck came into view, parked in our line of sight and on its side was written in huge, block letters, ‘SUCK IT UP.’ I said, “Well if that’s not a sign from the universe I don’t know what is.” and for the first time in a long time, I laughed.

That afternoon I had an appointment with my obstetrician. He asked me how I was doing and I racked my brain looking for a way to explain how I was feeling. I didn’t need to say much and thankfully he recognised what was going on. The decision was made that I couldn’t stay pregnant any longer and Riblet would need to be born, either by caesarian section or I would be induced. We agreed on a c-section and my obstetrician worked hard to get my booked in as quickly as possible. He told me that he had worked with several cases like this and that majority of people felt a million times better after giving birth. I remember the huge, thick fog of darkness surrounding me lifted slightly with the thought of this being over very soon.

The day of my surgery arrived and I was so excited to meet our little boy. We arrived at the hospital early and in only a few short hours we had a family. I remember feeling so much love and like I had finally made it out and I was thankful to be alive.

Kahutara

14th September 2019. Our two year anniversary. After a crazy year of the last trimester of pregnancy, becoming first time parents and raising a newborn we decided we needed to treat ourselves to something truly special. After much umming and ahing we decided on booking a night in the Kahutara PurePod. At $590 a night it is very much a luxury but I can safely say, it is worth every cent. 

We set off in the morning, after dropping our son at his grandparents. Neither of us had driven to Kaikoura for a long time and already we were being stunned by the views of the spectacular mountain ranges and coast along the way. Little did we know that it would just continue to get better. 

We arrived at the car park where we would follow a map to the secret location. The short tramp took us through forests which felt as though the heat had been trapped in just for us. We followed the track hearing all the different birdsongs and appreciating the native flora. The mountains and river were crisp in the spring sun and we couldn’t believe we lived in such a gorgeous country. It felt like we were in the middle of the Swiss Alps but we were only a two and a half hour drive from our city. 

The next 20 hours were ones of complete bliss. As the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words; so I’ll let these images speak for themselves. 

Pictures with a * were taken by me. All others taken by Peter (Cyren’s Cosmedia). 

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Blouse - Baby The Stars Shine Bright. Overalls - Princess Polly. Boots - Rollie.