I am a regular attendee at the Usher Hall, Edinburgh’s most ornate and venerable concert venue. On more than one occasion recently I have seen Hamish Hawk here – albeit each time he was showing the audience to our seats.
Hawk has graduated from Grand Circle stair duty to centre-stage spotlight, the kind of local-boy-made-good dramatic arc that positively begs for the Richard Curtis treatment. Making his debut headlining the 2,200-capacity venue, Hawk had the good grace to allude to his change in circumstances halfway through his set: ‘Please, be kind to the ushers…’
Everyone loves a hometown hero, but the pressure to deliver as a returning prodigal must be oppressive. This show, the last of a short British tour, was Hawk’s ceremonial point of arrival in the city where he grew up and still lives. I stole a glance at the guest list as I collected my tickets; it seemed to stretch halfway along Princes Street. Success has many fathers and plenty more who will happily stake a claim at paternity. I imagine anyone who so much as caught the tail end of an open mic spot back in 2017 was here, whispering to their companions something along the lines of, I knew him when he was nobody…
For the artist, the dilemma is how to pitch such an occasion. Play it cool and pretend it is just another show on the tour itinerary? Set the emotional controls to full gush from the get-go? Mix up the setlist? Stick to the formula?
Hawk got it more right than wrong.
Magazine articles are subscriber-only. Keep reading for just £1 a month
SUBSCRIBE TODAY- Free delivery of the magazine
- Unlimited website and app access
- Subscriber-only newsletters
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in