Winter Sights and Sounds

 It was like stepping back in time walking into the country hall. There is both a familiarity and similarity about the halls in Australian country towns, which have long been the hub of the community. Whether they are called the town hall, shire hall or community hall, their purpose is the same – they are there to provide a gathering place for the community and the spirit of the community past and present, resides within those walls.  

The Glenlyon community has grown and transformed since I lived there briefly 4 decades ago, but the town hall, although freshly painted, felt the same as it did then. Yes, it has been beautified, an unobtrusive, clear veranda roof added to the previously austere front, but step inside and it is any Australian country hall.

As you walk through the entranceway you pass a door on either side, leading off into smaller meeting rooms or offices, but then you step from the narrow hallway into a large voluminous space: high ceilinged, weatherboard lined, polished wooden floor, with the typical servery window at the end, which were it open, would reveal a neat, serviceable kitchen, where urns would boil and cups of tea and plates of supper could be served efficiently. There is a formula to which these halls were built.

The walls are covered in framed historical photos of the building of the hall, large community events that were held here, and of course, memorial plaques for those who served in the World Wars, some of whom never returned to the district. The uncluttered windows provide views of the surrounding town and countryside and allow the sunshine in to warm the space and the people within it. The hall is bulging with 131 years of community pride, the same sense of community that has led people to lovingly restore and maintain this building.

We were there for a Winter Sounds event. An annual weekend of intimate musical performances taking place across the Daylesford region and the Glenlyon ‘Village’ Hall, as the promoters called it, was one such intimate venue for a performance by Skyscraper Stan, supported by local indie folk singer, Jarrah Olive. It was a ‘sold-out’ show, so we had made sure we were there for ‘doors at 10:30 am’ to ensure we could get a decent seat. We needn’t have worried. In typical country fashion, no one was vying for a seat, they were all milling around chatting, buying coffee and muffins from the food van outside, there was no rush.

We joined the coffee queue and then headed inside to select our chairs. No-one checked our tickets as we wandered in, so we chose two seats on the sunny side of the hall, second row from the front, and made ourselves comfortable. On the dot of 11, the advertised starting time, support act, Jarrah took to the stage with her guitar, and suddenly the people were all seated in an orderly fashion, giving their full attention to the front of the hall (there is no stage). No announcements or introductions were necessary.

Jarrah entertained us for the next 45 minutes, impressing with her vocal range and repertoire of ‘break-up’ songs. I just hope they weren’t all written from personal experience, she looked far too young to have suffered  that many relationship breakdowns. Seamlessly Jarrah completed her set, and after a short break, Stan Woodhouse, aka Skyscraper Stan, opened his.

He began with a moving piece dedicated to his niece called 21^st Century Lullaby, before inviting the rest of his ‘band’ to the front, namely his cousin Oskar Herbig and Ballarat-born saxophonist Sam Boon. Standing at 198cm and what my mother would have called ‘bean pole’ thin, Stan’s presence in the room is commanding. Coupled with his own brand of charisma, the observational lyrics of his songs and his sheer and obvious enjoyment of performing, we knew we were in for a treat.

We had first heard Stan play back in 2019 when he supported a performance by fellow New Zealander, Marlon Williams, at Castlemaine’s Theatre Royal. Stan was working behind the bar at The Bridge Hotel at that time, but it wasn’t long before he had a name and following of his own, including Wallsy and I. Stan and the boys didn’t disappoint; they had a ball, and so did we.

Our sojourn in Glenlyon was rounded off with a stroll past the old school residence where I had once lived, memories of being freezing cold in that house flooded back, so we quickly turned and walked down to the Glenlyon General Store.  Once just a country corner store saving locals from the drive to Daylesford when they ran out of milk, this other icon of the country town is now a very popular café restaurant, and we were lucky to get a table for lunch. Following our meal, we decided to pop down to the Loddon Falls, a walk I hadn’t factored into the day’s events, so my heeled boots were not appropriate for the steep, muddy track, nevertheless, we made it to a view of the falls and the impressive basalt columns which line the gorge, before closing the book on my walk down memory lane and returning to reality.

Glenlyon Hall

Basalt columns - Loddon Falls

Loddon Falls