Watching THE ROSIE HOOD BAND is a bit like picking up a folky version of one of those Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls books. It's an evening full of little portraits of interesting people, of tales to swell the heart and inhabit your innermost thoughts. 
 
Rosie Hood has been in Downend before, as part of the glorious Dovetail Trio, but tonight she's with her own band. Joined by Robyn Wallace on melodeon and Rosie Butler-Hall on fiddle (but, sadly, without the injured Nicola Beazley) this is a "very rare" outing as a trio. Even with one fewer, they are still a page-turning thing, filled with wonder.
 
 
Hood is, clearly, fascinated by the quiet pioneers, those that do the extraordinary but without fuss and nonsense. It's easy to see why; she is much the same. A Furlong of Flight tells the tale of Eilmer of Malmesbury, a monk credited as the first aviator (thanks to some home-made wings and the top of tower). It floats on eddies of sound, a lightness that is simply wrapped up in the air. Hood's voice has an understated power, it's as English as tea and scones and easy to get swept away in, while Butler-Hall's fiddle agitates the breeze, catching the paper-plane melody. 
 
Ethel celebrates the life of Ethel Haythornthwaite, an environmental campaigner. It's Ethel that we need to thank for protecting the Peak District and she is someone entirely worthy of a damn good folk song. Hood, of course, provides a song full of the joys of the countryside, of roaming across fields, of revelling in the outdoors. It undulates, gently, as satisfying as a summer's hike. 
 
Not content with commemorating fascinating people, Hood and her band love a great story too. Hannah Twynnoy was, possibly, the first person to be killed by a tiger in England, in 1703, so why on earth would you not want a song about that? You'd have to write it from the tiger's point of view though. Tyger Fierce, taken from their latest album A Seed of Gold, is a swirling circus, voices coming from all corners as Hood and Butler-Hall lead dizzying rounds in an odd time signature. Wallace stomps out percussion and adds a melodeon whirl as Hood's voice climbs through the madness, finally bursting for its cage. By the end, you are entirely on the tiger's side.
 
 
As much as Hood loves to craft her own stories, she's not averse to a brilliant cover version. Richard Hawley's The Wood Collier's Grave is a right ol’ foot-tapper, an old-timey bit of America, the see-saw fiddle kicking up a jig that’s enormous fun. I'll Mount the Air on Swallow's Wings, best known as an Unthanks song, is more gentle but equally glorious.
 
Right at the very heart of everything that The Rosie Hood Band do, is an inclusivity and a belief in the power of women. Roy Bailey's Everything Possible has a comrade-ly sway, a firm, gentle defiance, Hood brooking no argument, setting her shoulders against intolerance. Bread & Roses, too, reminds us of struggle and protest. Hood contends that, as much as we need bread, we need the good stuff too. For her, the "roses" are going to gigs, singing, and playing music. It's hard to argue. Les Tricoteuses, written by Jenny Reid, is a wonderfully modern folk song. It's full of anger and resistance, of strength and feminine cool. Butler-Hall's smoky, French fiddle marches, lock-step, with Wallace's percussion as Hood storms the barricades. It is as rousing a finale as you could wish.
 
 
The support for the evening came in the thirty-headed shape of the BRISTOL FOLK SINGERS. Christ Church Downend is made for a sound like this; wondrous harmonies and intricately layered polyphony celebrating the unique community of the human voice. The Harvest Song has a bell-ringer's clarity, it chimes across octaves, male and female voices sounding and over-lapping. There's a softness to All Things Are Quite Silent, an impressive control and delicacy considering the number of voices. Then The Cropper Lads raises the roof - thirty singers telling another story of defiance, thirty singers stirring the blood, thirty singers giving old words a new gloss. 
 
Together, The Rosie Hood Band and the Bristol Folk Singers inspire dreams, they tell thrilling tales and spark the rebel in us all. The perfect Friday night.
 
Words: Gavin McNamara
Photos: Barry Savell
 
+++
THE ROSIE HOOD BAND are the headline guests as our Spring Programme continues with a concert that will also be live-streamed in partnership with LIVE TO YOUR LIVING ROOM.
 
 
A Horizon Folk Award nominee, Rosie is known for her powerful, clear vocals and captivating performances combining poetic writing with honest interpretations of traditional English songs. In her “classy" (MOJO) four-piece, Rosie is joined by fiddle-player Nicola Beazley, melodeon-player & percussionist Robyn Wallace and fiddle-player Rosie Butler-Hall. 
 
The instrumentalists bring dynamic lift and drive, expanding Rosie’s vision to re-work traditional songs and bring unheard stories to life. "To me, the story is always the most important thing, that’s the ‘seed of gold’ within a song," explains Rosie. The band released their debut album, Seed of Gold, in November 2023.
 
Getting the evening underway will be BRISTOL FOLK SINGERS.
 
 
With songs of epic journeys, rural pastimes and loves lost and found, the BRISTOL FOLK SINGERS are a community choir performing English folk songs in rich harmony. From Priddy and Bristol Folk Festivals to St George’s and various Bristol pubs they always impress with their varied, entertaining programmes and their heart felt performances. The Choir is conducted by Matt Norman.
 
Tickets for the concert, which takes place at CHRIST CHURCH DOWNEND on Friday 21 March 2025, are available online HERE and from MELANIE’S KITCHEN (cash only). They are priced at £14 each in advance or £16 on the door. Doors open at 7.00pm and the music starts around 7.45pm. This event is also included in our Spring Season Ticket.

 

There will be a bar, stocking cider, soft drinks, wine, hot drinks and real ale from Bristol’s HOP UNION BREWERY. Audience members are encouraged to bring their own glass/mug/tankard, as well as reusable bottles for water, as part of the drive to be more environmentally aware; there is a 50p discount for those that do. There will also be sweet treats available at the bar courtesy of Radstock-based THE GREAT CAKE COMPANY, as well as a prize draw, which helps to fund the support artists for each concert.

 

For those that can’t make it to Downend, or miss out on tickets, this concert will also be live-streamed in partnership with LIVE TO YOUR LIVING ROOM, so you can watch from the comfort of your own sofa! Head to livetoyourlivingroom.com for more information on live-stream tickets.
 
For further information, please email This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or find us on FACEBOOKINSTAGRAMBLUESKYYOUTUBE or TIKTOK.

These "Live at Lunchtime" gigs are absolutely brilliant. Striving for inclusivity and accessibility, there's a bubble of little voices in all corners of Christ Church Downend. Little feet shuffle, skitter and stomp, there are tables filled with kids, chattering, stopping, listening. Downend's community reaches out and, gently, holds everyone.

Fitting, then, that the fourth of these afternoon gigs should feature DETTA KENZIE, the Devonian singer-songwriter who is as gentle as spring rain, as welcoming as an open door, a singer with the ability to appeal to all comers.

Taking the South West as inspiration, Kenzie's own songs are steeped in an almost visceral sense of place. You can feel the calming cool of Wistman's Wood, named after a temperate rainforest on Dartmoor. Fittingly this forest is remote and high altitude and, so, Kenzie's voice is high, arcing through the air. It's the sound of pixies flitting through ancient oaks, of swifts returning home in the spring. She has that classic "folk revival" voice, as pure and clear as any you've ever heard. 

High Up on Haytor is another song that's set firmly in the wilds of Dartmoor. Again, it's utterly beautiful, a song that tugs on the divide between the real world and the magical. Kenzie starts to inhabit that particular place where other ethereal, British vocalists live. She doesn't really sound like Kate Bush but they share a sense of blasted-heath romance, they also share an incredible control, an effortless skip between octaves. Like Bush, she also has that ability to straddle genres, Kenzie is just as much "pop" as she is "folk".

While her own songs are rooted in the countryside, her journeys into the tradition don’t stray too far from the pastoral either. Dougie MacLean's Garden Valley is dripping with emotion, gently unfurling like a leaf. As she sings "there's no peace for me", the chattering kids around us, ironically, are silenced. The Green Wedding is an eighteenth-century Scottish song, full of fairies and enchantment and, therefore, perfect for the worlds that Detta Kenzie conjures. Tobias ben Jacob, on guitar this afternoon, delicately picks his way around the voice, as if Jackson C Frank was teleported into an ancient British forest.  

The Flower of Magherally is a pleasant summer’s morning, daffodil bright and gleaming. Once again, her voice soars, ben Jacob trailing in her wake, the ribbons attached to a kite's string. Between them they are as timeless and welcome as the first sun-rays of a July day. Lord Ullin’s Daughter almost has an urgency while new single, Reynardine, is a complex, multi-layered thing of beauty.

It takes a very special singer to take an incredibly familiar song and make you appreciate it anew. Black is the Colour has been recorded by everyone - Cara Dillon, Jean Ritchie, Joan Baez and Judy Collins for starters - but Kenzie's version is as good as anyone's. She says that it is a song that lights the fires of tradition but has a modern-ness too. In her hands that is an undeniable truth. 

So far Detta Kenzie has released one single, has played a handful of gigs and has an EP scheduled for "soon". She is right at the front of a crop of wonderful folk-ish singers and might, just might, have that uncanny ability to appeal to everyone. On those moments when she stilled the children around us, you just knew that everyone was spellbound.

Words: Gavin McNamara
Photos: Barry Savell
+++