The Courier and Advertiser (1) – November 1966
IAN POWRIE is one of Scotland’s most popular entertainers. Along with his Scottish country dance band, he has delighted television viewers, radio listeners and dancers in village halls all over the country with his own special brand of music. In addition to his musical activities, he is also an energetic farmer, working a farm near Auchterarder, Perthshire.
Recently, Ian dropped a bombshell by announcing he is to emigrate to Australia to take over a business. Since his announcement, he has been inundated with best wishes and questions about his “Australian adventure.”
At his farm, West Kirkton, relaxing by a roaring log fire, in a setting so familiar to those who have followed his progress from radio to television, Ian talked to Ray Neale about his big decision and his life as a farmer-cum-musical personality.
His story begins today.
Why I’m leaving Scotland to settle in Australia by IAN POWRIE
As a Scot through and through, my decision to go to Australia has been a difficult one to make. Taking everything into consideration – and that’s a great deal – I’ve decided to emigrate to Perth, Western Australia, because my wife, my two children and I want a closer family life.
The business I am taking over will provide us with our livelihood. It is really this which is behind our move. It all started when I was touring in Australia this year with the Andy Stewart Show. During our stop in Perth,
Western Australia, Max Kay, Andy’s manager, met a friend of his who owned a company called “Brick-Clad Home Conversions.” He explained he was giving up the business because he wanted to retire.
INTERESTING
Max told me about it, and the set-up seemed interesting. Through the summer of this year the project simmered with us. We took into consideration that we indulged in marathon tours from time to time. As a result, our family lives were suffering. After the Australian tour, we definitely felt frayed at the edges.
Max and I sat down and gave the whole thing a lot of thought. I knew immediately I would have to sacrifice a tremendous amount to step into this business. It meant giving up music, the camaraderie associated with it and all that my band and I had worked hard for, as well as the farm my wife and I had built up to our liking. On the other hand, I was constantly away from my family, a family that’s growing up – Ailsa is 14 and Finlay 12 – and my wife Leila was on her own too often. Decisions have to be made. Decisions that only the man o’ the hoose can make.
NOT EASY
It’s easy to taper down farm business. All you do is nothing! But it’s not so easy with the band when you’re in it to the extent I am. It’s all right when you’re nipping out after tea to do wee dances here and there. That way, you’re free to say, “I’m no’ going’.” My life revolves round the signing of contracts for everything – television, theatre commitments etc.
It means that unless you die, you have to honour these dates. I’m not preening myself when I say it was impossible for me to taper away the band business. If I limited my appearances with the band, then suddenly appeared at Gask to play at a wee dance, other people would get to hear of it and say, “You played at Gask, so you can come along and play at Auchterarder tae.” And so it would start all over again! Fortunately, everything will turn out all right for the boys. Jimmy Blue, my accordionist, is taking over the band in his own name.
KINDER
When I sit down and think about my departure in a few weeks, I say to myself, “Other than consideration for my family, there really is no reason for me taking this step.” As the day nears, it’s harder to get up and go, because people are getting kinder and kinder all the time. I have to be in Australia by December 19. I have high hopes Max will be able to travel with us. He is out in America at the moment finalising arrangements for Andy Stewart’s tour.
Another extra, wee quirk to my “Jekyll-and-Hyde” existence is the fact that I couldn’t stand pushing aside my love of flying. Not so long ago, when I went along to buy a caravan from a great friend of mine, Bert Ogston of Kirriemuir, I noticed flying pictures round his office walls. He told me he belonged to a flying club and persuaded me to go along. I hadn’t been at the controls since my R.A.F. days in 1945 and had jogged along perfectly happy. “Ach no,” I said, knowing full well flying is something like smoking. Once you try it again, you’re away twice as bad. But I went along just the same. Sure enough, after a flip, I caught the bug again.
LICENCE
I sent my log book off to London and was given a licence. I was tested on the ground, then flew from Perth to Aberdeen, and everything was okayed. I feel flying is only in its infancy in Australia. The idea of getting my hand back in appeals to me very much.
The Courier and Advertiser (1) – November 1966 cont/… I would like to stress we intend to come back to Scotland some day. At this stage we have no set plans for staying in Australia for good. It’s ludicrous to make forecasts before we even arrive there. I’ve no plans for my fiddle or farming – yet. I’ve always been known as someone who goes off at a tangent. I was settled in Perth as a fully professional musician, with a lovely Jaguar and chucked it in for “auld claes and parritch”. Fiddle playing maybe disnae mix with that kind of life, to others. But to me, it’s a good combination. After playing at a theatre in the early hours, you’re tired all night. But after a few hours in bed, getting up and about early on the tractor is as exhilarating as a round of golf. If you’re the right age, it works out very well.
