Bewitched and bewildered: What clan Listener thought of the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo at Eden Park

Russell Baillie: Let’s start by declaring our Scottish ties and past Tattoo experiences. I’ve never been to one, but I was once shooed off the Edinburgh Castle forecourt during the rehearsals for one by an oncoming pipe band. My dad was born in Edinburgh, and his father was in a regiment which was associated with the castle in World War I.

Graham Reid: I was born in Edinburgh and my family moved back and forth to here, so I attended kindy both there and here, and about a year or so of primary school there. Fond memories of Auld Reekie – I broke an arm on the slide at the local playpark near my school and we lived in a caravan camp for a while just outside the city for a wee while. We had a house in Corstorphine which we pronounced K-store-fin but in Dunedin the locals pronounce the suburb of that name as Core-sto-feen I believe. Never seen a tattoo but have stood on that hallowed ground many more times than the equally hallowed ground of Eden Park.

Kirsty Cameron: When you’re named “Kirsty Cameron”, there’s a lot of tartan baggage there. The Cameron bit comes from Pa, my dad’s stepfather, who adopted him, but I’m about 75% Scot anyway. Pa played the bagpipes, as did his dad, Old Pa. I love the sound. I was world famous in Tauranga sometime in the mid-60s presenting a posy to Lady Cameron when the Lochiel of Clan Cameron came to open the Tauranga Highland Games. Had my photo in the paper and everything. I’ve been to Edinburgh but had not seen the tattoo there. I did see it in Sydney maybe 20 years ago?

Dionne Christian: I have no Scottish ties or past Tattoo experience, but my paternal grandfather played the euphonium in military bands (and went deaf, partly through being in loud brass bands). I figured my dad, now 88 and increasingly wandering down memory lane as a boy in WWII London, might like the pomp and ceremony and the Britishness of it.

RB: Did he?

DC: By and large, yes. However, he now suffers (badly) from angina so the walk from our office to Eden Park, and back again, looked, at times, like it was going to prove fatal. It’s all very well shutting off roads around venues, but access for people with disabilities is frequently a real issue and can put a serious dampener on an evening like this. Both of us thought it was difficult to hear and understand the narrator, so surtitles would have been good.

KC: It’s a mess isn’t it, Dionne, for anyone who’s not sprightly on two strong legs. We helped numerous people up and down the steep stairs inside the venue too. For something like this which draws a wide but also older audience, Eden Park is a nightmare.

DC: There were a lot of people in wheelchairs in accessible seats, but that would have put them even further away from the action. Dad has a lightweight portable seat he carries with him so he can stop, catch his breath, and use his medication and there were a number of comments about what a sensible idea that was from a lot of people who were struggling.

RB: Where were you sitting and how did that affect your enjoyment? I and my sisters — accomplished highland dancers in their day, or so they claim — were up in the east stand. From that perspective, much of the show was played in the opposition half and I wish they had kicked for the tryline a bit more. The kapa haka group, on their home ground, of course, went for the whole paddock.

GR: The action seemed very distant for the most part and if you were up high you probably got a better overall view of the choreography and were able to see the lassies doing the Highland dancing at one point. We weren’t, so everything was at eye level. That was disappointing and I was bewildered by the fact there seemed to be four static cameras on the field and at least two people moving around filming but so little of that was projected on the backdrop, and sometimes what there was, got rather lost in the images of the castle or landscapes which remained. I wonder if that was an opening night flaw, but it was rather strange.

KC: We were in the north stand, looking directly down the field. Even with ‘good seats’ everything felt a long way away and I wished I’d brought binoculars. And a raincoat. I wondered why they set the action so far back. We found the sound really patchy – the singers with the NZ Army band (I think it was) were inaudible for the most part but then the singer with the Japanese self-defence force band was amazingly crystal clear. The video backdrop was mystifying. Maybe it was explained in the programme but we’re still wondering what the Terry Gilliam-inspired part in the first half meant. The dogs?

DC: We were in the east stand and had good seats, straight down to the field, but agree about everything feeling very far away and it being hard to hear. The video backdrop was indeed strange. AI on acid? I’ve never seen anything quite like it and wondered what it all meant. As we were leaving, I overheard a conversation between family members talking about whether it was worth it to “pay so much money” to be so far away.

RB: I think the dogs on the video had something to do with a past act involving RAF military police dogs or something. Clearly they couldn’t get them through quarantine for this show.

KC: I could have lent them my dog. He’s a very good boy.

RB: Yes, I did wonder why they had big stationary television cameras on the sidelines and a roving camera on the field. But so little was being shown in close up on the big screen. It was there as a graphic backdrop — someone had really gone to town on making a display about 75 years of the Tattoo. I just wanted to see something in detail. Maybe the lack of camera coverage is to encourage us to watch it on telly or buy the DVD later. I also wondered if Eden Park is actually too big for the show.

GR: Yes, it did seem too large for the event. Still, someone will tell us soon of the millions in revenue that poured into the city so …

KC: My plus-one wondered that too. He felt he had a better idea of the skill involved by the musicians seeing camera close-ups on TV. He also reminded me that when we saw it in Sydney, they had cameras on wires whizzing overhead – this was pre-drone days – and flashed up close-ups on big screens. The camera work last night felt like a rugby game.

RB: So, were we standing up for God Save the King about the time his younger brother was being arrested?

KC: Is it heresy to ask why a proudly Scots event would play God Save the King? I know it’s their national anthem but without a royal in the house – excepting the one on his way to the Big House – is the anthem necessary? I would have rather heard Scotland the Brave at that point. Or more Proclaimers.

GR: We stood up, although from childhood, I heard “home rule for Scotland” but I guessed that our own national anthem would follow in short order. I think the King needs to be saved by God right now, Andy and his ex have done a fine job of grifting and grafting (and worse) that even God must be taking pity on Charles.

DC: I muttered something to my dad about not wanting to stand up because “that family is a disgrace” and he kind of clipped me round the ear and told me that you stand for the concept of monarchy, not the Mountbatten-Windsors themselves. I might have done a fist pump in the car on the way home when I heard about the arrest.

KC: We had an older patron behind us who was most put out by the appearance of the Japanese band. I hope he heard the message about time healing wounds at the end.

RB: What were everyone’s highlights among the acts?

KC: The Norwegians and the Swiss! Drills baby, drills.

GR: Well, any of the drum and pipe ensembles, that’s the stuff that stirs my blood, but the Norwegians mastered the black’n’white effect of their uniforms against a similarly monochromatic backdrop (which I think the country could use for their next Eurovision entry). I liked the Top Secret Drum Corps and the Japanese contingent too. Great to hear how the Tongans worked in the sound of log drums into the snare part. And the kapa haka! Fantastic.

DC: The Top Secret Drum Corps, the Tongan brass band, the snatches of the 80s songs. I liked the Australian RAAF band version of Land Downunder. Just the way they all moved – the natty little dance/marching steps – were good to watch.

RB: Visually, the U.S. Marines Corps band and their vibraphones — not the most practical of instruments for a marching band – were very good in their manoeuvres and their patriotic graphics were quite something. Those white trousers and white sousaphones will come in handy if they have to invade Greenland.

KC: I felt sorry for the Yanks but how brave to be out there playing “America the Beautiful”. Or tone deaf? The response to them was very muted around our part of the stadium. There was half-hearted applause when they marched away. They were very good, but also kind of soulless compared with the joy and sometimes humour in other contingents, like the Kiwis and Aussies bring. It must be weird being an American abroad now and not be embraced quite as warmly as you once were.

GR: That was kind of strange and sad. I thought the backdrop was weird, it was clearly meant to be the Washington Monument, but it was surrounded by other strange architecture (an arch? Hmmm) which looked very Cold War Soviet, especially when the colours changed through the red, white, and blue. Those red stars and the architecture looked very peculiar. Maybe events over there are moving faster than we thought. I felt a bit sorry for them, the applause when they walked off into the tunnel was much more muted for them than other groups.

DC: Very muted response to the US contingent around us. Agree about them being kind of soulless. Those who show a bit more joy and humour are so much better.

RB: I don’t think that great Swiss squad is actually military. They are probably precision watch makers in their day jobs. I wonder if their bayonets fold out into 50 different uses. Or was that the Norwegians? Anyone attempting to invade Norway is clearly in for a surprise.

KC: My thoughts wandered to whether the Norwegians and the Americans are all put up at the same hotel. Maybe peace could be brokered on behalf of Greenland over the buffet breakfast.

GR: They looked great, but I was reminded of Donald Sutherland’s line in The Dirty Dozen when he’s pretending to be a colonel or something inspecting smartly dressed soldiers, something like “that’s all very pretty, but can they fight?”

KC: That’s very funny. When we were treated to a rare close-up of their faces on the big screen, none of them looked old enough to shave.

RB: Lesser highlights? I’m really not sure about the NZ Army band and the RAAF band and their singers. Having a military band sing Man I Feel Like a Woman, lovely song that it is, sends a curious message. As for that Men at Work song ….

KC: I agree! An old Shania Twain hit sat very oddly. Ditto on Men at Work’s Land Downunder. Why not less about fried-out-Kombis and something else quintessentially Aussie. There’s quite a vault there before they even have to dip into the Crowded House oeuvre.

GR: I agree – just a bit odd and the voices were really lost in that huge space. Song choices were sometimes a bit unusual, but I suppose that’s in the nature of such entertainment, everyone fighting not to do Mull of Kintyre. For me, the more traditional songs were the highlights, and I could have done with hearing A Scottish Soldier. Was that a snippet of Donald Where’s Yer Troosers or was I hopefully imagining that?

RB: Was that the band wearing the Broons tartan?

GR: You are going very far down a Scottish rabbit hole now laddie!

RB: I own a Broons tartan cap and I now realise I forgot to wear it.

DC: I liked the Men at Work song!

RB: I find it’s a bit Marmite that track. Or Vegemite.

DC: I like Vegemite sandwiches. But yes, Man I Feel Like a Woman was indeed odd. Some sort of “we welcome women into the military, don’t you” kind of signalling. I was just about to say I enjoyed the Scottish pop medley.

RB: Yes, the brass band Scottish pop medley of Eurythmics, Simple Minds and The Proclaimers was great. Though I’m not sure where Yes Sir I can Boogie fits into the pantheon.

KC: The Proclaimers’ Sunshine on Leith makes me cry. Bagpipes make me cry. The rain soaking my dumb cotton jacket made me feel like crying, but I held it together and made my husband share his sensible rain jacket.

DC: I found this about Yes Sir, I Can Boogie: The song was adopted by fans of the Scotland national football team in 2020 following the team’s qualification for the UEFA Euro 2020 championships. It had first become notable locally in 2015, due to a stag party video of Aberdeen defender Andrew Considine miming to the song while dressed in drag.[11]

RB: Far be it from me to suggest the choice of a song might be tied to the fortunes of the Scottish football team. What did we think of the “everyday heroes” theme? Reminded of Danny Boyle’s London Olympics opening and closing ceremonies. Only this was the Commonwealth Games sized version.

GR: I was a bit bewildered by that also: maybe I didn’t hear the explanation clearly because the MC’s voice echoed around but I didn’t quite understand who these heroes were and what they had done. They weren’t “local” heroes so …

DC: I only got it because I’d read and written about it. If it hadn’t been for that, it would have been lost on me. My dad was completely confused by it. I explained it to him, and he said it felt a bit tacked on to give the performance a contemporary legitimacy given we’re destroying the world.

RB: Go Dad. Wise fellow.

DC: Then he went back to talking about WWII, which I quite enjoy because his stories are sad but fascinating, shouting at the rain and swearing about having to walk so far. Given the state of the world, I think the “Everyday Heroes” is important but it needs to be easier to hear the narrator.

KC: The finale was meant to be the lone piper on the battlements, or in this case, a bit of Eden Park roof. But it was totally wasted as again, the sound was terrible. We were all straining to hear snatches of it. Maybe the rain shorted some important cable connection, but it was a missed opportunity. Though it meant I didn’t have to cry again.

RB: There was a remarkable lack of tartan on the merchandise stand. Maybe all the tourist shops on the Royal Mile complained at home so they don’t do it as a rule.

KC: We never found a merch stall, but what they flashed up on the big screens looked corporate, no tartan as you say. I did love the number of blokes in kilts. People made a real effort to don a touch of tartan, I wish I had thought to air out the Cameron hunting tartan kilt – soft grey greens, beautiful – my mother had made in Edinburgh on her honeymoon.

RB: Closing remarks?

GR: I think it oversold the grand nature of the event given everyone – even those sitting quite close – were far away from the action. But the sound of the pipes and drums were still stirring, the discipline and precision very impressive and the “wee mist” which came through actually added to the atmosphere (although maybe not for those who don’t understand Auckland weather and went ill-prepared. And the chippies should have come with “gravy” not tomato sauce. Not exactly a young crowd!

KC: I agree. The pipes and drums are magical, but Eden Park works against atmosphere no matter how much special effects haze you have puffing about. The action was too far away, sound was ropey, the video didn’t offer live action highlights which would have showed the skills of the musicians. It felt markedly different from the one I saw in Sydney. That was at the SCG so a stadium, but much more focused and well, done with military precision.

DC: Eden Park was simply too big for an event like that. It was stirring and the discipline and precision were impressive, but it was just too hard to hear and get good close ups of the action via the video. They threw everything at it, and maybe that was part of the problem. That said, I am glad we went.

KC: The other problem is the access to Eden Park. We walked home, 40 minutes in rain, as all the buses were full. There are probably people still waiting at the New North Rd stops.

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