Daylesford Singers Festival Volunteer
Mixing money with music, we come
to a Town Hall built from rock-solid
golden funds. Even the rococo brackets
holding up the balcony speak of
independent thinkers, believers
in the power of possibility, faith in
excavation, running water, the wealth
of the underground bringing riches
beyond wildest expectation.
As seats fill with choirs of anticipation
the voice of "a heartbroken angel"
anoints us with love song and longing.
Raffaele Carboni comes to life as
dissenter happy to seek refuge in
London, then Ballarat, pleased to literally
be translator: making available
the language of rebellion, faith and belief
in a future not obviously apparent then.
We are rewriting history. Music is a
lingua franca, and the generations raised
with it at festivals like this have us
stamping our feet and wildly clapping.
So much comes to light in songs of
repression, liberation, victory.
The Town Hall, 160 years old, rocks.
My raffle-ticket seller's bumbag rattles
with coin, crackles with paper currency.
— Jennie Fraine
Over to you, # 2!