Ruth Hazleton – Still Looking Out For Our Traditions
By Sue Barrett
“We are historians at heart, so researching and playing traditional music is incredibly rewarding.”
During Canberra’s 2001 National Folk Festival, I interviewed two young Australian musicians – Ruth Hazleton and Kate Burke.
Ruth was living in Canberra and working in an organic fruit and vegetable shop. She had been playing Eastern European Jewish folk music with Closet Klezmer and was playing American old-timey music with The Horse’s Leotard.
Kate was living in Melbourne, undertaking a university science degree and performing Irish music with Cooking for Brides and Trouble in the Kitchen. Kate had also played and sung on Judy Small’s album, Let The Rainbow Shine.
As a result of an informal session at the 1997 Cobargo Folk Festival, Kate and Ruth decided to launch themselves as a traditional music duo.
Since that time, Ruth Hazleton (now widely recognised for her singing, banjo playing, guitar playing and songwriting) has toured nationally and internationally and worked with such artists as Andy Irvine (Ireland – Planxty, Mozaik); Bruce Molsky (USA – Mozaik); Luke Plumb (Shooglenifty); Nancy Kerr & James Fagan (AUS/UK); Rens Van der Zalm (Netherlands – Mozaik); James Keelaghan (Canada); Martyn Wyndham-Read (UK); and Bill Jackson (Australia).
Now Ruth has released a new album, Heronbones, to celebrate 30 years in music. The album is a collection of stories told through soundscape and word. Co-produced with Luke Plumb, Heronbones draws from deep wells of folklore and traditional song and is also inspired by ‘90s downbeat, electronica and trip-hop. It blends electronic sampling, with guitar, banjo, drums and strings.
Drawing upon our 2001 interview, Ruth Hazleton talks about her 30 years in music…
Tell us about your musical background
I grew up with a lot of political ’60s folk and American folk on my Mum’s side (Peter, Paul and Mary, Donovan, Bob Dylan) and both parents were also into English folk revival music (loads of Steeleye Span, Pentangle, later June Tabor, Planxty, Martin Carthy). I came back to it when I was about fifteen and had started performing music at high school. In my early 20s, I was also a huge fan of trip-hop, ‘90s rap, jazz and music from Eastern European cultures. Like anyone who’s headed for a career in music, I sought out music that resonated deeply, regardless of genre. I studied classical piano and oboe at school and taught myself guitar – thumb picking on a nylon string like my parents did. Despite the formal music background, I have navigated my music career mostly playing by ear, which can be equally a challenge and a benefit in folk music.
How is your relationship these days with traditional music?
When I was in my 20s, people would sometimes comment that one day I’d progress from singing traditional songs to writing originals – the insinuation being that one led to the other more ‘creative’ artform. I have, over the years, become more comfortable writing songs and composing, but just cannot shake my love of traditional song. Why? It’s the connection to my cultural background (often in a second-hand way, distanced by colonialism), the temporary custodianship of a narrative that’s been sung over generations and great distances geographically. It’s the challenge of finding the story I want to tell within another enduring story, but within loose parameters of narrative, melody and style.
I don’t consider myself a ‘traditional singer’ in that I haven’t mastered the traditional techniques and I present the songs in contemporary forms, though I do spend a lot of time interrogating archival versions of songs and am very mindful of the journey a song has taken before I begin to work with it. I love the research, the challenge of storytelling. I get quite snippy when a traditional song is regarded to be simply a ‘cover’ – far from replication, the art is in the interpretation and re-imagining.
How important is it to increase the accessibility of traditional music? And what does traditional music from overseas has to offer people in Australia?
Australia has a strange relationship with traditional music. Our cultural music landscape includes music fundamental to First Nations cultures, music brought to our shores by convicts and settlers, music evolved by settlers after their arrival, and more recently, music that has travelled here from all over the world since the abolition of the White Australia Policy. In that sense, these cultural traditions are disparate and disjointed. Part of our own stories but also not, because we’ve been distanced from our ancestral roots. Perhaps for these reasons, Australia doesn’t value and platform traditional culture in the same way other countries do. That said, traditional music communities here are very strong and have been nurtured to an extent over the past 60 years through the folk music revival and the vibrancy of migrant communities. This has been what has allowed me to respectfully learn, explore and perform music from Eastern Europe, UK, Ireland, and America over the last 30 years. To live in a country where so many music traditions co-exist and coincide is really exciting.
I’d love to see traditional artforms become more widely platformed and highlighted in Australia. In the same way that bahn mi, pho, dumplings and sushi have become staples in our diet, our musical culture is doing incredible things due to the connectivity of living in a multicultural country. Off the top of my head, more well-known examples include musicians like Mindy Meng Wang, Van Diemen’s Band, Parvyn and The Cat Empire who bring roots and tradition to their music whether it’s experimental, jazz, pop, funk or baroque, but still make the music their own. The question ‘what does Australian music sound like?’ is often posed – and I think the answer to that is that it’s a historical work in progress and something that will evolve continuously. It will be a culmination and conversation between contemporary and traditional musics, and unique to the relationships we have here. To find our cultural sound and sounds, it’s extremely important that we safeguard access to traditional music alongside commercial music, and celebrate the extraordinarily rich music traditions migrant communities have brought here.
How important are organisations such as Folk Alliance Australia to the folk community?
Folk Alliance Australia and similar organisations championing folk and trad music/culture are playing an increasingly important role at a very difficult time for the arts generally. Alongside professional and cultural development, these organisations are, I think, obliged to advocate for grassroots cultural events, venues and communities in terms of visibility, funding and as integral voices in development of cultural policy.
How has your music developed and changed over the years?
I’ve been incredibly lucky in being able to work within a diverse range of genres and with some amazing acts over the years – from Klezmer music to single-condenser mic old-timey music (Dev’lish Mary), Celtic and English folk songs (with Kate Burke for over 20 years), folk-rock and Americana music. More recently, I’ve spent the past three years exploring electronic music. Rather than being a strict departure from previous work, it’s just added another voice or layer to my creative expression. As the years have passed, my music has become both the culmination of all the knowledge I’ve garnered but delivered in ways that continue to challenge and explore new ground. I’ve certainly become a more confident songwriter, too. That’s been a very rewarding journey and another skill I’ve had to work hard to develop.
Do you find you play better when you have a burst of playing or are the demands of playing many gigs wearing?
It’s a bit of a catch-22 for me. I really miss the days (pre-parenting/adulting) where we’d tour for months around Australia and overseas. With that lifestyle (as crazy and demanding as it is), comes a sense of real familiarity with the repertoire, a freedom of experimentation and expression that only exists when you’re playing night after night and your whole life is music. That said, it was much easier to tour like this 20 years ago when physical CD sales were healthy, venues more commonly offered guarantee vs door deals and it wasn’t so expensive to travel.
It’s by necessity that I’ve learned how to play in bursts now. Like so many arts workers, I hold down numerous jobs between creating music, I am a mum and frankly hitting a more mature age means that I’m more careful (and assertive) about playing music within my capacity. I have learned to only choose opportunities that are artistically rewarding, financially viable and can be tailored around my other work commitments. It’s not easy but has kept me in the game and able to come back to music and creativity. This means that there’s often more intensity to the performance and more work involved around curation and rehearsal.
Image: Ruth Hazleton – Port Fairy Folk Festival – March 2008 (pic by S Barrett)
Tell us about performing with other people, including on their recordings
It’s a real joy being able to collaborate and contribute to the work of another artist, whether in the studio or in performance. I often pinch myself at the opportunities I’ve been given over the years and the calibre of musicians I’ve worked with and been mentored by. I much prefer performing with other people. There’s an unspoken language and conversation that occurs in these spaces that’s just a magical thing to experience. Working with other people on your own material is quite a different process to working in collaboration or as a session musician. All involve different skills and disciplines.
What do you feel you have achieved musically over the past 30 years
Looking back, I’m simply just grateful to still be making music! That, in itself, is a massive achievement. I’m often asked what success in music looks like, and I think the answer is simply to be able continue to create over many, many years with the support of a loyal audience, a slowly growing new audience and despite the odds! There’s no doubt that making music these days as an independent and self-managed artist is harder than it’s ever been. The workload is insane, the impact on mental health is far more brutal (thanks, social media) and the financial security around touring and recording has been severely depleted.
Other than that, I’ve been so lucky to tour in the UK, Ireland and USA, play the Bluebird Café in Nashville and Whelan’s Theatre in Dublin. These were highlights. I’ve done thirteen studio albums. I’ve also valued being able to continuously develop my craft, dabble in new sounds, learn, grow and continue to explore creatively – all with the support of my music community and audience. And I’m better at tuning my banjo these days, too.
What are you planning musically over the next couple of years?
I’m looking forward to getting the new album, Heronbones, to the stage in 2026. It’s a big challenge in that I’ve not performed electronic music before. It’s a new sound. I have a mountain of learning to do, tech to get my head around, and at times that feels very uncomfortable, but it tells me that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be creatively. I hope to tour – kicking the year off with a launch at the Brunswick Ballroom in Melbourne/Naarm on Sunday 29 March 2026, followed by the National Folk Festival in Canberra over Easter.
www.ruthhazleton.com.au