Meet the Designer Part 3: Tami Neilson
On a discipline that’s moved me forward...
You either move across the world for love or money. Mine was love. When I moved here from Canada, North American friends said, “You're committing career suicide". In North America, country is the number-one-selling music genre. In New Zealand, there isn't even a mainstream radio station that plays country music. But I'd made my choice, and I was determined to stay and build my life. There was a lot of culture shock and it was daunting at times. On paper, a 40-plus mom of two kids, living at the bottom of the world, who sings country music, is not usually the recipe for the music business success story. I had to turn drawbacks into things that were positive. Because I'm in New Zealand, I've become the artist with all the strength and confidence in who I am—when I don't get offered a seat at the table, I build my own table. I believe being seemingly isolated can actually be your biggest strength as a creative.
On a defining moment as a country musician...
I started from nothing when I first arrived in New Zealand. I did open mic nights and tried to connect with other musicians. For my first few albums, I went back to Canada to record them – I gravitated back to the nest. The moment I really felt accepted into the music community in New Zealand was when I was nominated for a Silver Scroll – a music award that’s voted for by your peers; by other songwriters. Winning the award just overwhelmed me – I cried [that night] because that was a moment when I felt accepted into and celebrated by this community.
On pushing through boundaries...
Resilience is definitely something that's learned and it's only learned through failure. So the fact that I have a lot of resilience tells you that I've had a lot of failure. I'm proud of that because it means that I've dared. I've been brave enough to step out and do things that I learned from. You don't become resilient without opposition. You don't get stronger without something that pushes you and pulls you the other way.
On being grateful...
Every single day of the past two years, I have woken up grateful for the fact that I live in New Zealand during this pandemic – having seen loved ones, friends and family overseas who have struggled; who have not had safety precautions in place. It's been absolutely mind blowing how New Zealand's led the way. I'm so grateful that we live in a country that cares about its people.
On life after the pandemic...
Throughout the pandemic, we musicians lost our bearings because so much of who we are is wrapped up in our live performance. That's how we connect, how we get our music out there. I think a lot of us really have had to grieve that [loss].
I had a great conversation with my brother in the first year of the pandemic. I had a new album out and the world tour that went with it? Just dead in the water. Talking about writing my next album I said to Jay, “I feel like my well is empty. What's the point? What's the point of creating something when I can't go out and connect?"
Jay said something really impactful to me: "I think that we need to get back to the music without the business and try to just create for the love of creating – not knowing if that song's going to go anywhere or connect with anyone but trying to get back to just creating."
When we're kids we tap into creativity. We draw pictures, we paint we sing songs—not for any endgame or purpose except the joy and creating for the sake of it. It was really hard for me to put the business side in a box and just play. I had to be mindful about it but I got there: I wrote a whole album and way more songs than I needed because I was just creating for the sake of creating. Sure, planning things is important – it's something that can get us up every day—but planning can’t be everything. It can't be the only reason that you create.