attitude to its soldiers’ involvement (made up of young
boys), and Turkey’s more “heroic” salute. The cowritten song is, not surprisingly, titled “Gallipoli”.
ChanCe also wrote “Gelibolu” (a version of the song
wholly in Turkish – “Gelibolu” is “Gallipoli’s” real
name).
Over 2013, I travelled to Istanbul to both research
and to record the Gallipoli song with ChanCe. My last
visit involved promoting the song with appearances
and performances on national morning and midday
shows (Var on TV8, and Noon News), as well as
highly publicized articles in two of Turkey’s largest
newspapers Vatan and Haberturk – discussing the
significance of the Gallipoli landing to both Australian
and Turkish identities; the two countries’ current
healthy diplomatic ties; as well as discussing how
Australians commemorate the war, to give the Turkish
people a different perspective on the Anzac’s
involvement.
Australians feel extremely passionate about the
Gallipoli landing, and about commemorating it. So in
writing the song we wanted it to capture the emotion
and feeling for both Turkish soldiers and the Anzacs,
while being incredibly sensitive to how the song
should reflect the realities and brutality of the war.
We want the song to pay homage to the Anzac
legend, and really the modern feeling of the coming
together of three cultures in peace.
What does Anzac Day mean to you personally?
Firstly, I’m so thrilled that Anzac Day has moved from
being just a march and a good excuse for a public
holiday (which so many Australians saw it as) to a
really almost religious day of real mourning and
commemoration. And I love that because the courage
that these people had we can’t understand it, you don’t
see that type of courage much anymore. It’s incredible
how much they could teach us about survival and
fighting for the good of the world. It is quite personal
to me and I think it’s a really amazing day.
Over all the commemoration, the saluting, and the
stories, it is about the sheer courage that these young
men had in them – the kind that we just don’t see these
days. Think about it. Men aged 18 – 20, some upping
their age just to be involved, far away from home,
knowing there would be violence and death. They
must have known that at the least. They would have
ownplayed their hero status I’m sure, but to me, they
signify real heroism, real courage – when men were
men.
How did you feel about being invited to perform
the song at Gallipoli this year for the one
hundredth commemoration?
Ecstatic. My words and music could never begin to
fully represent our soldiers’ experiences, but to be
invited to perform there is one of the greatest honours
in my life. I don’t know when we will be playing –
either at the Australian commemoration or the Turkish
one, but to play on the Canakkele Peninsula where it
all happened 100 years ago really brings it all home to
you. It’s an incredibly moving place. When I was there
last year we were lucky to be the only people on the
beach at Anzac Cove that afternoon. It gave me time to
think about what must have gone on. The terror that
must have been running through the minds of those
young fellas. But also the courage. Being there almost
teaches you about your own mortality, and courage.
What really stays with me from Gallipoli are the
words by Turkey’s president and founder Kemal
Ataturk, etch ed on a memorial in Anzac Cove,
embracing those Australian lives lost when the war
ended. Incidentally Kemal was the commander of the
19th Division of the fifth Turkish Army, who was
overseeing opposition to the Gallipoli landing itself,
giving his embracing words a greater level of feeling
and significance.
How did you start working with your Turkish
singing partner ChanCé?
Turkish singer-songwriter “ChanCé” got in touch with
me a few years ago on Twitter, after a couple of my
songs were playing on the radio across Turkey. She
sang Turkish music in English, and I was singing my
Solar and Surf Jazz music, and we often talked online
about how the two countries had effectively
fought in wartime, yet both countries had also
developed a fondness for each other. We eventually
met in Turkey in 2013 when I was living in
Amsterdam, and we came up with some new ideas.
Aside from our shared love for exotic melodies, and
passion for our soldiers who fought at Gallipoli, we
just get on really well. We laugh about ridiculous
things, and given we both come from law and
medicine, we feel the Doctor/Lawyer music
collaboration equally appears kind of ridiculous.