My new choir

Lots to report from Monday's foray into Maori folklore, Ti Whanawhana, here I come! It was a fantastic experience, with super friendly Maori and Pakeha (me) coming together to learn beautiful Maori songs with movement of course. You just cannot stand still and sing in this fabulous singing language, so now I  hope to have a regular gig on Tuesday to replace my old choir. And the venue, the Wellington Prostitutes' Collective, is amazing. It's such a good space and nothing like I had expected. They are very up-market in Wellington, our workng ladies, and gents! I will keep an up-to-date report on my progress, which I hope will also help my Maori language classes.

My viewing of the Kiwi documentary movie 'The Man in the Hat', the story of art dealer Peter McLeavey, did not disappoint. As a new Wellingtonian I was chuffed to be able to recognise some of the Wellington city beauty spots and certainly my favourite strip of Cuba Street, where this very interesting and quintessential New Zealander had his office-cum-gallery for forty years. 

Peter McLeavy was somewhat an eccentric but gave up his secure public service job to throw everything into his passion, which was supporting local artists and selling their works. At the same time he set up a network of friends and clients which was doubtless the envy of many bigger art galleries in the big cities. He used his Remington typwriter, licked his own  stamps, and worked at first by himself but then with the help of a fan who became his wife for forty years, and with whom he had three children. It was a lovely example of a typical success story of someone who followed his passion, and who succeeded. He did spend some early time in London but only to re-impress on him that he was a real New Zealander and that he had to come home to promote the artists we have here, and there are some great ones.

 I now have a redoubled interest in discovering where his gallery, now recently closed, was in Cuba Street, as he was indubitably one of the real characters of this indomitable street, which is in my opinion, one of the best and most interesting city streets in the whole wide world.

Viva Cuba!

A nostalgic memory for me in Cuba Street, my very first car I had in Paris in 1969.

Below, one of my favourite haunts, just off Cuba, the original Havana Cafe, (formerly a brothel I heard).