I first came across your music when we were putting together the program for the Coalesce Festival over New Year's Eve up on the Canaan Downs, and you were an instant "yes" not just from me, but from so many of us. When I saw your performance, I looked over at the crowd, and their pure enjoyment of what you were bringing was evident. I felt my DNA dance, and a bit geekishly, I wouldn't have failed to tell you that afterwards. It was just such a good show, and I really do implore anybody who gets an opportunity to see you to make the effort.
Oh, thank you. I'm smiling here on the other side of the phone, just remembering how much fun that was. Such a good show. I think we'd had the hail and the storm and all the brutality, and then a wonderful DJ set, and you came in.
So you've managed to achieve a remarkable level of mastery on multiple instruments. Can you take us back to the beginning, and was there a specific instrument that first captured your imagination?
Absolutely. And yeah, first I'll just say, hey, thanks so much for having me on the show. I'm super excited to chat with you. So if we go back to the beginning, the flute has always been my main instrument. I started playing the flute when I was about seven years old. But even before that, I was playing the recorder and stuff, and just like there was a lot of music kind of coming out in that way. When I was seven, I picked up the flute. I'd been hearing this music, this traditional music, around the house on some CDs that my parents had. Actually, even while I was still in the womb, my parents had a couple of CDs which they found. They must have found that it particularly calmed me down. I seemed to quite like them, and there were CDs by this guy called Chris Norman, who's a wooden flute master from the East Coast of Canada, incredible player. I just kind of grew up listening to these two albums in particular. Then also some music from bands like Altan. Watching the VHS video of Riverdance whenever I went to my grandparents' place, they would pop that on and I would just sit on the couch and be absolutely mesmerized by the dance and the music. There wasn't an overwhelming amount of traditional Celtic music around, but what there was in my household, I immediately latched onto it. People could see that I was responding to it, and so more music became accessible as I got older. When I was seven, I went to see Chris Norman in concert in Wellington. He was absolutely mesmerizing. I was this young kid, my jaw on the floor, thinking, "What is going on?" I recognized the music; it was in my body, it was in my soul because I'd grown up listening to it. Suddenly, this guy was there in front of me. I was sitting, I'm pretty sure I was sitting in the front row in my memory, which probably has been deeply altered. I just remember being right up the front and how amazing it was. That night, I said to my mum, "I want to learn how to play the flute."
Wow. So the next question I was going to ask is, what was it that drew you in? But you pretty much talked to that, which is really helpful. Other than Chris Norman, was there anybody else that really helped draw you into the Celtic music tradition?
Yeah, there's been a lot of different people, but listening to Chris Norman's music and seeing that concert was the catalyst that made me take the leap into that realm. Literally the next day, I started playing the flute and learning. Initially, I was learning on the silver flute because my mum had one from previous years. For a little while, I went through the regular flute workbooks and moved towards a more classical type of thing. That went on for a couple of years. Then there was a local guy who lived just up the road from me in Golden Bay. He was called Pat Higgins, from Galway, and he was a great traditional flute player. My dad managed to find him, and once I connected with him, that was huge. I went from playing classical music, which I wasn't loving in the same way, to rekindling my passion for the traditional Irish music I originally loved. Suddenly, my passion was back up to eleven. That was really cool. He was a really important person in that journey as well. How amazing to be in Wellington and have this Irish player living ten minutes walk up the road.
Wellington's great for music, hey. Even the most accomplished musicians sometimes experience self-doubt and imposter syndrome. It's not just musicians, but artists in general. Have you ever felt that?
Oh, yeah, I think most of us have. Part of being a creative person is that you're quite sensitive to the world, which can come with a bit of fragility. You feel a lot, which is great for art but can be a double-edged sword. Imposter syndrome definitely hits me from time to time. I haven't noticed it as much in recent years, actually, now that I think about it. There's always a little element of self-doubt that can come in.
Do you have any techniques that you use to quiet that, other than just time?
I definitely find that regular spiritual practices, like meditation, can be really helpful. If I'm in line with everything in terms of my mental state, that makes a big difference. As I said, I haven't been noticing it as much in recent years. The key is realizing that we all have our unique gift to bring to the table and not feeling the need to compare ourselves with others. It's important when trying to avoid imposter syndrome. Much of it stems from seeing others share their best selves and comparing ourselves to that without seeing their struggles.
I totally agree. A lot of what we see from others is their best face forward, filtered through social media, and we don't see the struggles behind the scenes. It's easy to compare ourselves to their best.
Absolutely. When you're constantly playing and sharing, you hear all the errors because you're in a critical mindset. When you hear someone else, you're in the receiving space, hearing everything that's right. The critical ear can be great for improvement but also detrimental if not managed well. It's important to become friends with the critical ear to refine your art without being overly harsh on yourself.
How about creative block? Do you ever suffer from that?
Absolutely. Many of us in creative fields face that. For me, it often comes down to how much space there is in my mind. When on tour, I'm my own agent, promoter, manager, driver—everything. It's flat out the entire time, leaving little room for creativity. It’s only when there's space to relax that creativity can bloom. Connecting with nature, listening to music, and other inspirational activities help, but the key is having mental space for new ideas to grow.
You mentioned meditation earlier. Is that how you reignite your creative spark, or do you have other methods?
Meditation is one element, an attempt to empty the mind and allow inspiration to flow. Listening to other musicians is huge. One of my flute teachers, Brendan Montgomery, emphasized never stopping listening. He described a period when he played every day but wasn't listening and felt lost. Keeping that inspiration going strong through listening to music is crucial.
For me, standing up on stage is way too vulnerable. How do you reconcile with that vulnerability when performing?
I love being the center of attention. But there's definitely vulnerability, and I feel comfortable when I'm confident in what I'm sharing. Preparation is key. It doesn't mean planning every detail but knowing I have the skills to handle whatever happens. Experience and practice also help. Being on stage and talking to the mic regularly makes it more comfortable over time.
Whenever I've seen you, you're managing to balance the business side and the stage presence. How do you craft that presence and select the material you play?
At Coalesce, I had a mixture of storytelling and organic performance. The first part was like a sit-down concert with stories and songs, similar to my solo show. The second part was more dynamic, with dancing and collaboration with other musicians. The process varies depending on the type of performance. For my solo show, I focus on tunes, songs, and stories from Ireland, Scotland, and Canada. I aim to create a journey with emotional and energetic levels, starting with storytelling songs and moving to impressive tunes like the Tin Whistle. The goal is to think about how the audience will feel and craft the set list accordingly.
The Celtic traditions are important to me as well. How do you think your music helps people reconnect with their cultural heritage?
It's amazing to play here in New Zealand and Australia, where there's so much Celtic heritage. Many people are familiar with the music to some extent, but it's great to see them connecting with it on a deeper level. It's like their DNA is dancing, even if they've never heard it before. It feels like it belongs to them, and that's really special to share.
What are your hopes and dreams for the future of your music and Celtic music?
I write a lot and want to play more of my own music, informed by the traditional styles I love. The traditional music of Ireland, Scotland, and Cape Breton is the bedrock of my music. I'm excited to explore and add to the tradition with my own work. I have a collaboration called Half Light with Bob McNeil from Wellington, and we've been writing original music together. I want to continue doing that and hopefully reach more people, making a great living from it.
We're quickly running out of time, so I want to make sure we get a chance to play a piece of your music. Where can our listeners find your work?
Unfortunately, Spotify recently removed my album due to suspected artificial streams, but you can hear Half Light on Spotify and find everything about my music at rennypearsonmusic.com. You can purchase the album there, listen to tracks, and find upcoming tour dates. Lots of stuff is on YouTube as well.
Could you introduce the piece of music we're about to listen to?
This last piece is from Half Light's show called "The Watch." It's the first piece we wrote together, inspired by a beautiful glass of Talisker.
Wonderful, as all the best things are. Thank you so much for your time, Renny.