A Suitcase of Songs
How do you measure the value of a dementia music project?
Andrew Eaton-Lewis is a writer, musician, producer and events programmer. Since 2018 he has mostly lived on the Isle of Lewis, working on various projects for An Lanntair arts centre in Stornoway and releasing an album via Wee Studio Records. while also running his own production company, sruth-mara. In this blog he shares his reflections on co-writing Suitcase of Songs with Alan Farquharson who is living with dementia.
For a while now I’ve been co-writing and recording songs with people living with dementia. It’s prompted me to think a lot about value. How do you measure the value of a song? Is it the number of people it reaches? Or something else? Also, how do you measure the value of a dementia music project?
Here’s a case study…
In 2022 I spent six months co-writing a song with Alan Farquharson, a 68-year-old from the Isle of Lewis who was then in the very early stages of dementia, and his partner Susannah. Suitcase of Songs, a country and western song that Alan sings himself, is essentially Alan’s autobiography. The title was inspired by an actual suitcase in which Alan keeps the lyrics to all the songs he’s sung over the years – Irish songs, country and western songs – at social clubs, local music nights, and in his previous work in a care home. The lyrics, which were mostly written by Alan and Susannah, begin with the story of the teenage motorbike accident in which Alan almost lost his leg, the musician friend he met in hospital, and the gig by his friend’s band which was his first time singing in front of audience, performed while still on crutches. The song ends with Alan’s grandchildren singing him songs and Alan realising that he’s beginning to forget the words. By the final verse, the suitcase of songs is ‘tattered and torn and falling apart’, a poignant metaphor for Alan’s current mental state.
By the final verse, the suitcase of songs is ‘tattered and torn and falling apart’, a poignant metaphor for Alan’s current mental state.
Suitcase of Songs has served several purposes in Alan’s life. Writing it allowed him to record key memories for posterity while they were still clear enough. Recording it, and then singing it live, has helped him to keep those memories present, while also challenging him to learn a new melody, the very personal nature of the song providing familiar lyrical territory. The song has documented his life with dementia in a way that helps explain it to other people. And one day it may serve as a memorial for his family.
There were a few reasons why the song took six months to write. Alan and I were strangers when the process started so building trust was important, given what I was asking him to do. Alan had never written a song before, so the lyrics slowly emerged from hours of conversations about his life experiences and how to structure them into a story. And his memory was already failing him. To record the song, we got Alan to sing it line by line, splicing together multiple takes.
Not all the dementia songs I’ve worked on have been quite so labour-intensive. The first three were adapted from existing poems by people living with dementia as part of a project called Poetry in Motion. All the musical choices were made in close consultation with the writers and/or their families, based on favourite songs, formative musical memories etc, but for practical reasons I ended up singing two of them myself. From the beginning though I felt conflicted about singing such personal material on other people’s behalf, particularly with a song called The Fighter, which was based on a poem that Ron Coleman, also from the Isle of Lewis, had written about his dementia diagnosis. Ron’s poem was full of such intense feeling – anger, frustration, defiance – that I was convinced it would only work if he performed it himself. The result – a furious tirade against the dying of the light – was so powerful and authentic that I was determined any future recordings had to include the voices of the people whose stories they were telling. These were not my songs to sing.
I was determined any future recordings had to include the voices of the people whose stories they were telling. These were not my songs to sing.
In other words, I’ve not made life easy for myself. I’ve been doing this work since 2021, and in that time I’ve co-written just five original songs with people living with dementia and their families, an average of just over one song per year.
For me, the value of this music is clear. Writing and recording Suitcase of Songs kept Alan and Susannah going during the stress of Alan’s dementia diagnosis. I know this because Susannah has told me many times. Remarkably, a few months after we recorded it, Alan sang the entire song live at a sold-out launch event at An Lanntair arts centre in Stornoway. Despite his advancing dementia, he was determined to do a 14-song set. I spent months worrying that this would be too ambitious and exhausting for him and gently trying to talk him down to eight or nine, but he proved me wrong. On the night he got a standing ovation and could have happily carried on for another hour. It was a triumphant show. A few months after that, the song was the soundtrack to his and Susannah’s wedding, playing as guests arrived and later referenced in the sermon. Alan and Susannah are now recording an album of the songs Alan has been singing his whole life. Progress has again been slow because of his health but both are determined to complete the project this year. Suitcase of Songs initiated all that.
This work, though, is both time-consuming and difficult to do at scale. Writing Suitcase of Songs was only possible without a deadline. If we’d been restricted to a few days, weeks, or perhaps even months, it wouldn’t have happened. And while each collaboration I’ve embarked on has had demonstrably successful results, success is never guaranteed. At any point in the process somebody’s dementia could advance faster than anticipated and writing or singing their own song may prove impossible. You could work on something for six months or more and have nothing to show at the end of it other than the therapeutic value of the process.
I’m very grateful to Deepness Dementia Media, Culture Collective and An Lanntair for supporting this work, given that it presents an obviously challenging prospect to funders. If you had to choose between supporting this intensely individual-focused project and one that engages with groups of people with dementia, over a much shorter time scale, which would you choose? Which represents better value?
I’m glad it’s not my job to make that choice, but I’m fiercely proud of all the work that’s been done on this project and believe that it’s empowering for people living with dementia in a way that some other arts projects struggle – or don’t even try – to achieve. The work so far has now been documented on an album, Born to be Alive, proceeds from which go to Deepness Dementia Media, a Lewis-based organisation that continues to develop innovative new creative projects with people living with dementia, including Dementia: the Musical, which just toured Scotland, and Scotland’s Dementia Arts Festival, now in its second year. Born to be Alive represents the authentic voices of people living with dementia and their families. I’d love for you to give it a listen.
