2020 goals

At the beginning of 2019, I avoided setting a specific goal. In academia, setting a professional goal is difficult – after all so many things are out with my control. I can tell myself “I will publish more” but that is largely dependent on peer reviewers and publishers. And if they do accept the publication, major revisions will take up more time than anticipated. At least, this is what I told myself. Now, I can write more and push more out the door, but is more better? These are the questions I struggled with for all of 2018 and at least the first quarter of 2019.

Then I had an epiphany! In April 2019, I made a promise to myself. I would write a book proposal and I would keep sending it out, getting feedback, editing it, and sending it again until it got accepted. The key thing here was committing to one, single project and telling myself rejection would not knock me down. I worked hard on the proposal and put measures n lace to make sure it went in: I gave myself a hard deadline, I sent it to trusted colleagues for feedback, and I made sure to make it clear, targeted and something I wanted to do, not something I thought I should do.

While all this was going on, a new fellowship appeared and I casually thought ‘Hey, I have an idea so let’s go for it’. I told colleagues I had nothing to lose by applying and at this point I genuinely thought all I was doing was casually throwing my hat in the ring and I wouldn’t feel too bad if I didn’t get it. The project was clear and linked to my research, but I wasn’t passionate about it. I’m sure if it got funded I would have enjoyed doing it, but I had put up a protective wall in my mind. I didn’t want to receive a rejection for something I was passionate about, but therein lies the problem. I dedicated a lot of time and energy to the application and even though it wasn’t my dream project, I had still poured myself into it.

Well, if you haven’t guessed by now, it didn’t get funded.

When I received the rejection email, I didn’t feel angry or sad, just disappointed. But, as the months went on my mood became darker and darker. I poured myself into the book proposal and I think if it had been rejected too I may have just given up entirely.

Here is the thing though, funding is tricky, and much trickier than publishing. There isn’t enough to fund every project. Even if a really convincing case has been made, even if it ticks all these boxes, it still might not be enough to get over that final hurdle. There are so many unknown factors and since I didn’t get feedback, I will never know why this project didn’t meet the mark.

What I should have done was found another fellowship and applied for it with the same project, but I didn’t. Instead, all that hard work has been pushed aside, and I probably won’t go back to it again. Why? Well, what I came up with was something I thought the funder wanted, and not something I was trulypassionate about. Maybe that came through in the application…

Meanwhile, I have been working on yet another project #allthethings. It stems from a previously-funded project, but I had been developing another grant application. I have literally poured months of work into it and after receiving so-so internal feedback I realised that, once again, I have developed a project that suits others and not me. So what to do…

Well, after several weeks reflection, I have a very clear idea of what I want to do next. The grant I was applying for doesn’t suit what I want to do, but the time spent developing it has helped me figure out the key research questions. By focusing more on what I want to explore, everything falls into place. I have even identified three other grants I could apply for by taking this new direction.

I am extremely passionate about this new project and I have written a couple of articles in this area. I really, really want funding to make it happen. This feeling is scary but exciting, but it is an idea has been forming for about two years and now feels like the time to take the next step.

So, in 2020 what do I want?

1. I want to complete and send in the manuscript for my first monograph.

2. I want major grant funding for my new project, which will lead to my second monograph.

These two projects are huge, but it is time to be bold. It is time to stop using rejection as an excuse. It is time to do things the way I want to do them. This is not intended to sound egotistical as feedback from senior colleagues is important and should be taken on board, but my problem so far is thinking too much about what I think I should be doing based on others opinions rather than developing something I want to do.

In the words of YouTuber Justin Scarred, I may not be able to control [funding outcomes or publication outcomes], but I can change my reaction to them. 2020 is my year to work on these two projects with clarity and focus.

Curious Caledonians out now!

In June this year, I had the wonderful opportunity to return to Australia and continue my research work on music Scottish emigrants who took their music collections with them to Australia. It was a crazy, invigorating, inspiring and exhausting trip! On my previous visit, I was mostly working alone and could only imagine the music in my mind (though I did record two if the songs as well) but this time a whole team of musicians were also part of the process! We now have a stunning album, which not only showcases some fantastic tunes, but also brings to life some really unusual music that hasn’t been performed in almost two hundred years. Here are some further details, taken from the Evergreen Ensemble Facebook page:

Evergreen Ensemble continues their fascinating journey into the sound world of colonial Australia with this enchanting album of instrumental and vocal music drawn from the music collections of Sydney Living Museums and the State Library of New South Wales. Bringing together Australia and Scotland’s finest Early Music talent and iconic folk artists, Evergreen Ensemble weaves stories back through time, rediscovering the sounds of folk melodies performed on period instruments.

For their new album Curious Caledonians, ensemble director and violinist Shane Lestideau has invited four renowned guest musicians to bring their specialised knowledge of eighteenth and nineteenth-century performance styles to the recording. With the help of Scottish researcher, Brianna Robertson-Kirkland, they have delved deep into the nation’s musical archives to discover treasures hidden in the personal music books and manuscripts lovingly bound together by their owners for safe-keeping. Much of this music bears the unmistakable flavour of Scotland: strathspeys and reels, haunting Gaelic airs and arrangements of favourite Scottish songs and tunes. It gives us the chance to ‘listen at the window’ of a Scottish-Australian house in the nineteenth century and consider what place these songs, piano duets and quadrilles may have had in their lives.

The album features the dulcet tones of mezzo-soprano Allegra Giagu and soprano Claire Patti, with Claire also appearing on Celtic harp. Australian violinists Shane Lestideau and Ben Dollman (Australian Brandenburg Orchestra) are joined by Aaron McGregor of the renowned Scottish Baroque ensemble Concerto Caledonia, with acclaimed Australian Baroque cellist Daniel Yeadon completing the string section. Performing on an authentic 19th-century Collard & Collard square piano are historical keyboard specialists Neal Peres Da Costa (University of Sydney) and David McGuinness (Concerto Caledonia).

Curious Caledonians offers a rare insight into domestic and public music-making in Australia since 1788, honouring the extraordinary contributions of Scottish culture to Australian society and exploring Scottish music’s unique ability to reinvent itself in new surroundings. Part classical, part folk, part Scottish, part Australian, this album captures the musical – and emotional – landscape of the early Australian settlement.

TRACKLISTING
1. Miss Susanna Baird’s Reel / Miss Johnston’s Reel
2. Black Mary
3. The Emigrant Highlander’s Wife *
4. The Blue Bell of Scotland
5. Morag
6. Laddie Oh Leave Me *
7. Hit Her on the Bum
8. The Favorite Scotch Rondo *
9. The Hen’s March / Sir George Murray’s Favorite / The Duke of Wellington
10. The Marquis of Huntly’s Welcome Home / [No] 6 Dance
11. Ye Banks and Braes *
12. Jenny Dang the Weaver
13. The Banks of Clyde *
14. Lord Moira’s Welcome / Miss Jeann Stewart of Bohally’s Reel
15. The Horse-man’s Port
16. Queen of France’s Lamentation *
17. Blackbird Waltz
18. La Fenella
19. Don Alphonso

Evergreen Ensemble
Shane Lestideau violin
Ben Dollman violin & viola
Allegra Giagu mezzo-soprano *
Claire Patti soprano & Celtic harp

Guest Artists
Aaron McGregor violin
Daniel Yeadon cello
Neal Peres Da Costa 19th-century square piano
David McGuinness 19th-century square piano & harpsichord

Research: Brianna Robertson-Kirkland

1CD + Digital album | Available 4 October 2019 | ABC 481 8774

Here is a link to the album playlist:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_mkVPeV0hxkV4Bh0EmZWQK5Rz7obURGogg

An academic brand

A few weeks ago I mentioned the academic brand and how it was pointed out to me that my brand is a little… haphazard. While a lack of brand or a confusingly vague brand is an external problem — others in the field may not think of you as a subject expert in anything specific — it is also an internal problem. I don’t necessarily have my brand entirely figured out but I have been thinking a lot about where I want to see a change, what I can do to bring about that change and ultimately what I want to be known for in the wider world.

What is an academic brand?
John Tregoning was writing about this very subject in 2016, where he described the brand as ‘selling yourself’. He sums it up nicely stating:

This brand comes into play when meeting potential collaborators, conference organisers and funders. Interactions with other academics tend to have three levels: an entry-level overview of your work to check you are in the same field, followed by a description of a specific piece of work and, if you really click, detailed dissection of experimental design. There is no space for English modesty: don’t say “you know, this and that, some stuff on respiratory infections”. Do define your brand and develop a snappy single-line pitch that summarises what you do, backed up with an exciting case study. You are pitching this brand so that when other academics need someone with a particular skill set they think of you.

The article continues to articulate clear advice about the brand – craft the brand by publishing and network so that the world realises who you are. This is excellent advice, but these are all external factors for creating a brand. An ECR coming out of the PhD doesn’t necessarily know who they want to be when they grow into senior lecturers, especially in a noisy academic world.

A graduating PhD has to face a plethora of issues, issues that were not as prominent in the academic job market 10 years ago. The job market is incredibly competitive, and while establishing a brand may help to get a job, in reality most ECRs are willing to try anything to get their foot in the door. Atma Ivancevic in 2017 wrote a huge list of things to help survive the ECR period of an academic life. Included were travelling, entering competitions, writing, networking both live and online, talking to people, taking advice, creating an online presence, maintaining a personal life, exercising and avoiding overwhelm. Whew! I was overwhelmed just reading the list and teaching, funding and building a brand weren’t even on it!

Then there is the real possibility that the brand the ECR wants to build doesn’t exist or isn’t easily fundable. What to do then? Build a different brand? What if there are no jobs in the area an ECR wants to work in? Do they press on with who they want to be albeit jobless? Do they pay their dues and hope that once they have a job they can manipulate it to suit their brand? Or what if they are interested in a lot of areas and need time to figure out how it all fits? That is certainly my problem, and while I am slowly narrowing down my specific area, it physically hurts to have to give up other activities I genuinely enjoy exploring.

Most of these articles explore external factors for establishing a brand, but what about internal factors?

I am speaking about personal motivations. The physical and mental reasons why a brand is important. This became really obvious to me at the end of the summer and I spoke about it a couple of posts ago. An academic brand gives focus, purpose and prevents a person taking on projects that sits out with their area (not necessarily their area of interest, but their brand). I have so many things I like to work on and because my expertise are in a broad area I justified to myself that I could make it all fit. Well, it doesn’t and it can’t. I never want to have a summer like I did this year and while I still have ‘off-brand’ projects I need to finish, thereafter I need to really focus.

So, who am I as an academic?

Well, that is the $64,000 question. Even as I write this post I am a little scared to admit it, but I shouldn’t be. It’s irrational to hide behind other topics all the while privately hoarding research data that centres on a true passion. So, here we go…

I love singers and singing, I love looking at treatises and I love historically informed performance. I have been working on all three areas for about 10 years, but not necessarily a the same time or in the same project. I was really inspired to write my thesis topic because I wanted to know how 18th-century teachers taught their students, but I realised the treatises alone were not enough to tell me how they did this. In fact, the treatises can’t really be fully understood without have a wider interdisciplinary knowledge of the cultural context (I did say my area is really big and I can justify looking at prety much anything!). This is why I (alongside another colleague) came up with the Eighteenth-century Arts Education Research Network — it’s aim was to bring practitioners and researchers together to explore these issues, and while the network has been really useful it brought up several other issues that got me off track. Singing treatises is actually what I want to explore in more detail. To figure out what parts of the treatise were used in lessons, what parts were idealised versions if a lesson created by the teacher, and what parts relate to the wider context. I truly believe that a more contextualised, interdisciplinary examination of treatises will help us understand historical vocal training, but will also dispell myths still passed down from teacher to student today. That’s who I want to be when I grow up… Oh yeah, I’m already grown up… So, let’s do this!

How I spent my summer: part 5 – The Study

In every house Gran and Grandpa owned since I was 4 they have always had a room for me. Oddly, none of these rooms had a bed as I often shared Gran’s double bed in her room whenever I stayed over. But, ‘my room’ normally had my desk, an assortment of arts and craft supplies, toys, games and when I became old enough, my piano. In this house, my room had become a bit of a dumping ground for unpacked boxes but there was always plenty of room for me to sit and play the piano or my trumpet. This was the one room I felt completely at liberty to decorate as I wanted. It had always been mine, it now just needed some more of… well me in it!

In the flat, I spent the entirity of my PhD working on tables in the living room where my books often lay about our everyday living space. During special occasions I tried to tidy things away but if I happened to be in the middle of writing a chapter that was quite difficult. In the end, the flat was always a tip and work seemed to be waiting for me where ever I went. As soon as I got my permenant job, the mountains of paperwork that had accumulated over 4 years of study were packed away but this in itself was challenging since I have always had plans to turn my PhD into a monograph. Without the paperwork, I couldn’t quite remember certain paths of research nor did I have the ability to check up on certain areas. In essence, it helped my procrastination. But, at least I had a split between home and work life.

Over the past two years I have really struggled with these two issues. Wanting to work but also wanting to relax. How do I work at home and be able to walk away? My husband and I had made a decision to sell our flat and buy something larger where I could have my own office space. So when it came to inheriting this house, it felt appropriate that my room remain mine, only now it would be my work space. A place I could go to think, research and write while still keeping the rest of the house as a home.

The skirtings in the room weren’t exactly skirtings. They were more like white boards put down after wooden floors had gone down. This had been done by the previous owners and I think Grandpa had just left the room as it had been. Job number 1 was to find a joiner who would replace the skirtings and facings. In doing so, it would lift the look of the room overall.

I have often used MyBuilder.com to find different workman. I have had some amount of success but I would also add a word of caution. Though profiles may have positive reviews, these can be ‘created’ by simply asking friends or family to provide such reviews. The joiner who came to do the skirtings did an alright job, but he did make a mess of the plasterwork around the door and he didn’t exactly work cleanly. These things we were able to fix quickly, but it was slightly irritating.

Beyond that, I had grand plans for the room. I had visions of turning it into a Victorian Library, an 18th-century masculine office, a gothic masterpiece —all plans that were a little too grand for this particular space. I did want to turn the over-the-stairs cupboard into a reading nook. This would give me a perfect place to sit and read while also shelving off some of the space for books. The wardrobe was also shelved off and the book cases from the living room in the flat were added giving me maximum storage.

I fell in love with black wallpaper featuring copper trees. It give the room a rich, vintage look without overpowering the space and the colour complimented my Grandparents bureau which would now become my desk.

I have filled the room with reminders of my Grandparents including images and ornaments that I couldn’t bare to hide away but didn’t want to keep in the main living space.

I haven’t quite had the chance to sit and work in the study yet, but I am hopeful that it will be a place of fruitful creativity.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a before shot but here it is after papering:

So how did I achieve this look?

Need wooden facings, skirtings and shelves ordered and fitted by a local joiner.

Graham & Brown Vinyl Wallpaper: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01D53ZL9S?ref=yo_pop_ma_swf

Wallpaper paste: https://www.diy.com/departments/diall-paste-the-wall-ready-to-use-wallpaper-adhesive-2-5kg/212584_BQ.prd?utm_source=google_cpc&utm_medium=shopping&utm_campaign=PX_GSC_Tools_And_Hardware_+_Best_Sellers&ppc_type=shopping&ds_kids=92700030831733794&gclid=EAIaIQobChMI7pTH7e7R3AIVhrHtCh068wu5EAQYAiABEgJNZvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds&dclid=CLHR_qTv0dwCFcxk0wodr7cLDQ

White gloss.

White emulation (I found this in the wardrobe in this room).

Harris brushes

Painting table

How I spent my summer: part 3 – The Kitchen

My Grandparents had a house in Dale Avenue that I absolutely adored. After my Grandpa’s passing, I found myself thinking about this house a lot. How it looked. The colours. Where the furniture was placed. How I would try to roller skate up the incredibly steep hill in the garden and skip on the lower patio. I mainly remember the living room, where I would sit on Gran’s beautiful ciel blue, chippendale replica recliner chair. The chairs came as a matching pair, but it was Gran’s that I would sit on to watch the television. Quite a privilege since Gran liked to keeps things neat and clean, a way of being that a young child often isn’t!

As I reminisced about this house, I was drawn to drive by it one day. I briefly sat outside it in my car and thought about these memories. I obviously didn’t go so far as to peer inside but I was pleased to see the monoblock driveway my Grandpa carefully laid one summer as well as the rot iron gates leading to the back garden are still intact.

Why am I telling you all this? When it came to painting the kitchen, I had come across Gran and Grandpa’s ciel blue Denby candle sticks and clock that once stood in the Dale Avenue living room. The colour was so striking and prompted me to remember this old house. I just knew at that point that I wanted to replicate this colour in our kitchen.

Previously, the kitchen had been the same colour as the rest of the downstairs. I lightish pink colour that matched in with tiles. Over the many years of stove top cooking, the tiles had dulled in colour and the walls were looking tired. I wanted a colour that would be inviting and happy, but different to the rest of the downstairs. I didn’t really think about the tiles or the colour of the worktops. Only that the blue of the candle sticks felt right.

During this process I had to disappear to London for a couple days and my husband kindly went to BnQ to get some tester pots. On my return home we found one colour ‘blue thistle’ was way too dark while matt ‘ciel’ was too light. What to do… Well, after taking another trip we decided ciel might be the best way to go since a darker colour might appear a too dark once it was up in the whole kitchen. We have always gone for matt paint as neither of us particularly like sheen or sparkle, but the ciel silk finish seemed to be more of a perfect match (based on the colour in my minds eye of course!). And that was it decided. Out with the credit card where I also purchased a roller!

It took me a whole day to transform the kitchen. I wanted to make this a neat and tidy job, but remembered my first painting effort in the flat had been a disaster. This time I did my research and watched professional painter videos to make sure my technique was sound. Brush painting was fine but painting with the roller was hard work and I didn’t seem to be able to get quite as even a coverage as the man in the video. I guess this takes practice. In any case, painting the room with three coats gave it the perfect finish overall.

Now when I walk in the room I am reminded of my Grandparent’s Dale Avenue house and it makes me smile. They were so lively in that house – Grandpa working in the garden and Gran hand washing clothes in the sink. I am pleased to have a happy memory of the two of them now represented in my home.

Before:

After:

So, how did I achieve this look?

Well, I recommend watching some painting videos. Here was the series I watched and attempted to replicate: https://youtu.be/3HSuqwi_CY8

Ciel silk finish: https://www.diy.com/departments/colours-premium-ciel-silk-emulsion-paint-2-5l/183714_BQ.prd

Wall roller: https://www.diy.com/departments/harris-id-vanquish-9-roller/203485_BQ.prd

Paint brushes (Grandpa already had a set of Harris paint brushes)

Sheet to cover the floor

Paper towels in case of any spills!

How I spent my summer: part 1

So, once again I have been on hiatus but this time I chose to take time away all the while knowing I wanted to write this series. I won’t be focusing on research or writing, but something equally important. In my last post I had written about losing my Grandpa and since then my husband and have lost 4 other close members of our family. It has been one of the most traumatic summers I have ever experienced but in the face of it all we have charged on ahead and tried to make the best out of so much grief.

I inherited my Grandfather’s house – a final amazing gift I will never be able to repay. Through this time I have dedicated myself to renovating and redecorating, carrying out all of the changes my Grandfather suggested just over a year ago. I remember him taking me a tour of the house saying ‘that needs to be changed’ while pointing at the bathroom, ‘don’t keep this carpet. Wooden floors would be much nicer’ as he pointed to the red and cream patterned livingroom carpet. And a final reminder ‘don’t keep everything. Sell what’s worth selling to pay for the work I couldn’t do!’ Well, I couldn’t bring myself to sell any of the items, but I have donated to charity in their honour, which I hope Grandpa would approve of.

My husband and I gave ourselves 6 weeks. While the sky was falling around us, this was the one thing we had control over. The one thing we could see rising out of the ashes of our grief. Personally, I have given myself 6 weeks not focus on writing, or research 24-hours-a-day but to go to work, do my 8 hours and then come home and scrape, paint, build, garden and book a team of joiners, electricians, plumbers and engineers to rip out and put in all those things that transform the house from something suitable for the elderly to something better suited to a young working couple. As I looked over the work we have done, I was so sad to not look over and see my grandparents wine coloured chairs. Not to sit in the leather High back dining chair to watch episodes of Star Trek and not to move over to the dining table under the stairs to eat ham sandwiches and drink tea. But, while the house gives me these sad memories, I know that these changes were necessary to ensure the house does not become a meloncholy museum piece.

So, here is how it looked just six weeks ago before we started all the work. I will try to go room by room describing the decorating process and hopefully this will give some ideas or handy hints for anyone trying to redecorate the home of a recently departed loved one.

Unfortunately, I didn’t always remember to do a before picture for all the rooms (and some of the rooms Grandpa probably wouldn’t want me show since it was quite finished off to his usual standard). But, I can describe what has been done so hopefully that will give a good idea. Below is the downstairs living room and dining area. Not quite my tastes, but the decorating, carpets and furniture were top quality. Something I have tried to maintain as we carried out our own renovations.