By Mike Moroney, 31 Oct 2002

It snowed on the tops and hailed in the bottoms. However, I've always maintained this is perfect weather for a folk festival. I remember thinking this as we checked into our motel in Wanaka (courtesy of Mr Flybuys).

The Cardrona Festival has its special qualities; largely the people who go there. Half Legendary Men rocked with Chris Penman's sterling vocals and the full-on instrumentals of Jock Walton, Anne Bowen and Greg Waite - ably accompanied by the Irish bouzouki of Irishman Sean Manning. Their presentation at the barndance was immeasurably enhanced by the addition of a lagerphone - until someone took it from me and hid it.

Celtic quartet "Teud" (pronounced "Chade" - how hard is that, Martin?) gave us beautiful harmonies and instrumentation to the the most maudlin of songs - put the whisky and weather in perfect perspective. And speaking of whisky - Robin Laing's smoky, peaty humour and dry wit had us all in fits! Paul Bond and Fred Hickley - them of Jiggery Folkery (remember? There were just the two of the original three, so they went by the name of Two Tirds) as funny as ever (that was intentional, right?) and any material that didn't fit into their concerts got well thumped in the last night session.

Shiner opened the final concert and, as usual, had us feeling right at home with their humour and lovely harmonies. These guys are one of the best kiwi string-bands around - great originals from Vic McDonald and always superb repertoire choices and arrangements from Steve Barkman. All of them (Vic, Steve, Kevin McLoughlin and Adrian Higgins) have voices of great character and they blend so well. Steve, it's worth the mention, did all of the sound at the festival and built about 60% of the instruments that were played there! No kidding! And Tony Kiesenowski presented a beautiful song tribute to Sir Peter Blake with a very singable antiphon. Martin Curtis hosts the festival in the Cardrona valley, near his Gin and Raspberry Stables, and right next to the Cardrona Hotel (very like the one in the Speights ad, "She's a hard road..."). The accent is on self- sufficiency (hence the motel in Wanaka for the Moroneys), and you'll see as good an array of vehicular accommodation and devices (and concoctions) at the festival to provide warmth and comfort as you might find in an American military invasion of the Antarctic.

While Martin is one of our more accessable folk "legends" it was great to see another legend there with an even longer pedigree. Dusty Spittle gave us a taste of real Otago country music - a song by our own rural bard, Bluejeans: Down a Country Road I Know, delivered in 4/4 to a tune that was only vaguely similar to that of Phil Garland's. There's something about that Southland drawl that blends beautifully with American twang - you can hear it in John Grennell's singing - that gives time and place to country songs down south. It's that direct and unapologetic link to Tex Morton and his legacy. It was interesting to see how some younger folkies "didn't get it". Dusty Spittle is a living legend and he was there at Cardrona. Couldn't finish a Cardona festival without an all-in rendition of Will Ye Go Lassie Go (which I recently learned was written the year I was born!) and, indeed the wild mountain thyme was in full bloom that weekend as we made our way back through that stunning countryside that Peter Jackson invented.

Sunshine for campers at the 2000 Cardrona festival

By John Archer, 30 Oct 2000

On Friday the 20th of October we arrived at the Cardrona Festival, as invited guests from the far-distant North Island.

There were about 100 folkies there, just the right number. They all camped around the ancient Cardrona schoolroom/hall which is situated between Martin and Kay Curtis's house and the Cardrona pub. Most had alpine tents and wore skifield clothing: they all seemed genuinely disappointed that the October snowstorm had come through 3 days too early, forcing them to spend most of the weekend in brilliant hot sunny weather, dressed in their floral shirts and shorts. (Auckland's Gothic black style has not reached there yet.)

The distance, and the pioneering conditions seems to keep away the less dedicated types, producing a distillation of really hardy, really keen, really skilled musicians there. As a result the blackboard concerts and late-night jam sessions (dram sessions actually) were of a memorable high standard, such as the rendition of Jock of Hazeldean with a West Coaster's translation, Shiner's song in praise of older women, and Jock McKenzie and his mates singing real Celtic songs in their native Gaelic tongue.

Hence I felt rather apprehensive about my mediocre guitar accompaniment when I presented my Saturday afternoon concert. But they liked the songs I had written, especially the difficult-to-sing "Ite Missa Est" about leaving the Marist Brothers, which I do in a Gregorian-chant style.

Invercargill twins Joanne and Judy did some great acappella numbers in between droll re-enactments of their childhood rivalries, and Graham Wardrop did impossible things on his guitar, including playing it with one hand in his pocket. It was all so friendly. Martin and Kay are wonderful hosts.

The cherry trees are still growing by the wild Cardrona, and the valley still does have the arid soul-worn feel of that James K Baxter ballad, in stark contrast to the manicured landscape of that tourist fantasy factory just over the hill in Queenstown.

But unfortunately the road from Queenstown International Airport, a winding gravel goat-track over the Crown Range, is rapidly being transformed into a wide, straightened, sealed highway. Soon the broom and briars and old shacks will be replaced by millionare's ski lodges, then the millionaires will complain about the scruffy hippie musicians and their longdrop dunnies, and this sort of festival will be no more. Get down to it while you can. (Bring gumboots, and a floral shirt...)

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This page published Nov 4, 2000