My secret moment with Yoko Ono
My secret moment with Yoko Ono
Brush with Fame #1
Last Sat (my Sunday) I was fortunate to attend an online writing workshop led by
. This was indeed a thrill. For 25 years Laurie wrote for my fave New York newspaper, The Village Voice and is the author of five books and numerous essays and articles on all things most interesting. I found her here on Substack via her extraordinary pieces, Dear André.Participating in a workshop instead of leading one is a rare experience for me and even with the early start time (Sydney 5 am), I was keen to take part. My spontaneous writing muscle was feeling very rusty but I ended up writing about a chance meeting in a hotel lobby in Japan with one of my heroes, US author, writing teacher and zen practitioner, Natalie Goldberg. We both happened to be on the trail of the sixteenth century haiku poet Matsuo Basho — Natalie with a friend and me leading one of my Haiku Walking trips. (Reading her 80s classic Writing Down the Bones was a turning point in my life and the reason I began teaching).
Laurie’s feedback was great as she invited me to enact an on the spot role play — her playing Natalie and me, the awkward fan trying not to gush. After the workshop I was pleased to have a new angle to rework my piece and began conjuring up other Brush with Fame instances I could present here on SS. I haven’t finished the Natalie one yet, but I went searching on an old blog I found this one which I’m calling Brush with Fame #1.
Brush #1.
Once upon a time, way back in November, 2013, Yoko Ono was in town with her exhibition, War Is Over. (You can still view this extraordinary exhibition online). She was also scheduled to appear as part of the program Ideas at The House at The Sydney Opera House.
I’d been to see the exhibition and was planning to attend the event when I got a text from my friend Royden, who worked at the OH as a production manager.
’Yoko needs people for her performance on the 17th. Can you do it?’
’Sure,’ I replied, ‘just tell me where and when...’
On the following Sunday I arrived at the stage door just before 1pm. Royden appeared and took me up to the green room where I got myself some tea and settled down on a big couch in front of the fabulous Sydney harbour view.
I thought I might be in for a bit of a wait, but suddenly there she was, so petite, dressed in her child size jeans, black leather jacket with three big body guards in tow. Royden signalled, I followed and bam — there I was in the lift with Yoko Ono, sharing small talk, feeling slightly awkard and at the same time completely normal.
The lift doors opened onto the stage area and Yoko took charge, letting people know in a softly spoken, commanding manner, exactly what she wanted.
The set up was quite simple. Two low arm chairs were already in place— one for Yoko and one for MCA curator Rachel Kent, who would lead Yoko in an hour long conversation. However, before that got going Yoko had an unscheduled surprise — she would come on alone and perform.
This is where we whisperers came in. I was one of four volunteers to be positioned out in the audience with a particular vocal task.
’Let's try it,’ Yoko said as we spread into the empty auditorium to find a random spot. When we were in position, Yoko gave the instruction to whisper a phrase or a sentence into our radio mike — whatever came to mind, and keep repeating it.
The phrase that popped into my mind was —’ what I really want to tell you...
what I really want to tell you... what I really want to tell you...’
Yoko started vocalising and off we went. The whispers from our mikes were reverbed, looped and mixed into a backing track for her improv. We tried it a couple of times in three minute bursts, Yoko seemed to like what we did so then it was back to the green room to wait until show time at 3 pm. The body guards hung about chatting and Yoko went for a nap in the board room. (Did she do yoga nidra lying on the floor under the big conference table or was there a comfy couch? This we will never know).
At 2.40 pm we were given the call and I went to find my allotted seat. It wasn't where I had rehearsed, but bang in the middle, not too far from the front. I squeezed past the knees of my fellow audience members with the microphone hidden in my bag and wondered how they would react when I burst into whispers beside them.
When I spied Paul Capis (Australia’s fabulous cabaret diva) sitting in front of me, I had to lean over and show him what was in my purse. (Is that a microphone in your bag or are you just pleased to see me!) When I told him what I was up to, he was thrilled. ’I do love a secret,’ he whispered as the audience went quiet.
The house lights dimmed to darkness and tiny Yoko with her signature sunglasses perched on her nose, came out alone as planned. The audience started clapping and cheering and wouldn't stop. She began her orgasmic improv and one by one, we began our whispers.
Soon they were listening in total awe. Her moans rose and fell, gathered urgency then dropped away, began again, built to a screeching climax then ebbed away once more.
Several times we faded away thinking, surely this is the end, but then she took off again, revelling in the reverb echo of her voice mixing and merging with our invisible soundscape.
The highlight for me was a moment near the end that seemed made just for us as she repeated: I wish........ I wish.......... I wish..........
and with my whisper it became:
what I really want to tell you ...... I wish.....what I really want to tell you.....I wish.....what I really want to tell you....
Our vocals built to a crescendo, I lost track of time and place, and for a second it felt as if it was just me and Yoko, Yoko and me — nobody else, no audience, no opera house, no other whisperers, just the purity of voice in a vast empty space.
When it was finally over (it went on for a good ten minutes), I turned my mike off, put it back in my bag, and went back to being a regular audience member, delighting in hearing this eighty-two year old icon talk about her life and work.
At the end we clapped and cheered again and as she left the stage she asked us not to leave until the alarm of an old fashioned tic-tock clock went off. Quirky to the last minute!
I turned to the woman sitting to my right and showing her my mike, asked her if she knew what I had been doing. She had no idea. She thought it was all Yoko’s voice.
The secret was ours.
Back in the green room I was working out how to get Royden to give Yoko a CD of my songs written and recorded in 1980, when he said, ‘she'll be out in a tick — you can do it yourself.’
Yoko emerged as we gathered around and gave compliments about the 'show'.
‘Oh thank you,’ she said in a slightly unsure voice. ‘Do you think they liked it?’
’Oh yes,’ we reassured her, marvelling that a star as huge as Yoko would have the same performers’s uncertainty as we all do, ‘absolutely.’
That was the moment I shook her hand, thanking her for the pleasure of working with her and giving her my CD.
I’d scrawled on it,
For Yoko
Thank-you for your inspiration.
One of your secret whisperers.
Do you have a brush with fame you’ve never written about? I’d love to hear about it!
Browsing Laurie Stone’s stack I happened across her piece on meeting Joan Collins in her local bakery. My Brush with Greatness. It’s a great read!
WRITER JOURNEY NEWS
Draft Busters Online. Monthly modules on Zoom. Monday mornings, 10 - 11.30 am AEST and Friday afternoons 3.30 - 5.30 pm AEST. Next module starts Sept 2. Find out more here! or DM me.
Free Online Workshop, third Sunday of the month, 4 - 5 pm AEST. Let me know if you’d like to join.
Creative Immersion in Ischia, Italy May 3-10, 2025. 7 nights, 8 days. For writers and artists. Daily creativity workshops at our seaside hotel offer inspiration and guidance for your creative work. In collaboration with the Create Escape. Booking and info here. Getting a lot of interest so don’t miss out!
Haiku Walking in Japan 2025. Still working out the details, hope to post them here soon! See pics of our Basho tour (mentioned above) here.
Celebrating 20 years of Writers Journey international journeys and retreats. See where we went, what we did here.
My Writing on Substack.
I generally post writing/creativity tips and motivational articles, mixed in with eps from two of my current writing projects: a cancer journal, Letters to Leftie Bestie (My Left Breast) and a satirical flash fiction novella: The Everyday Musings of Louisa Greene. You can also find all eps of my travel memoir, Looking for Duras, a Mekong Journey, (where I go searching for traces of the French writer, Marguerite Duras in Vietnam and Cambodia) here.
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It was a fun workshop, and this post is wonderful. Joan Collins! I was a mere extra in the great arrival of Joan to the sad bakery. xxL
Wow! Your Yoko story was so evocative. What an amazing experience, Jan! 💛