I learned an important lesson when I went to see the legendary singer and guitarist, Joan Armatrading, the other week.
Armatrading, now 63, is a master of what she does – songwriter, guitarist, pianist, performer and raconteur. She’s one of the few women whose guitar playing is world class – and she really rocked itout on Monday night – but she is less well known than contemporaries, such as guitarist Eric Clapton, for her musical and vocal prowess.
This is an all-too-common phenomena – women who are famous in their own lifetimes get left out of the history books and don’t receive recognition.
Armatrading is humble enough to acknowledge that she is less famous than she deserves to be, given her talent, experience and 32 years of touring.
Several songs into her exciting performance, she paused her singing to guide us gently through her career highlights with a short slide show. Her warm and humorous commentary made her “brag book” entertaining, educational and thoroughly delightful. For example, the great South African leader, Nelson Mandela, set aside an entire afternoon to spend with just with Armatrading (much to her surprise), talking, laughing and sharing their experiences. Mandela knew he was in the presence of a peer.
I was at Armatrading’s concert with my daughter who, at 21, knew nothing about her, but was interested enough to give her a try. The slide show and Armatrading’s friendly, jocular banter throughout her performance drew Audrey firmly into her world, and her work.
It was also a lesson to remind both Audrey and me to take control of history and make sure it includes “her-story”.
If others forget to mention us, let us mention ourselves; with humour and humility, let’s claim our rightful position even if it
means doing the work ourselves. There was another dimension to Armatrading’s performance that was remarkable: she stopped to receive our applause. She smiled and let us acknowledge her. She bowed, and she received our admiration. In doing so, she built a strong connection with her audience, but also modelled to all her audience, both men and women, that when we pause to receive acknowledgement, we encourage people to give generously.
Near the end of the evening, Armatrading announced: “That is the end of the concert, but you have all been to concerts before, right, so you know what happens now. The only difference is that I am going to stay on stage while you clap and stamp your feet.”
We complied enthusiastically, and she received our outpouring of excitement and gratitude with grace before playing her encore, which we all sang along to, and leaving the stage.
Thank you Joan, for a performance that was also a profound illustration of the real meaning of feminism.
