As I made my way up to city Square one Friday afternoon in August to interview my good friend and ex-bandmate, Katie Gittins, I carried mixed emotions and I began to ponder the sort of questions I would ask her. It occurred to me that it might seem weird to have a formal conversation with someone I knew so well. As I navigated the busy rush hour traffic, some subconscious part of me was simultaneously ticking over what I already knew about her and what sort of topics would make for an interesting story.
It was past 3pm and the weather was trying to decide if it was going to rain or not. I had come out wearing only a viscose jumpsuit that I bought at a charity shop earlier that day, and I was feeling the cold. I had convinced myself before going out that the weather was mild so I hadn’t brought a jacket. It wasn’t mild, and my fingers were slightly numb. I arrived at City Square to find that she wasn’t there, so I sat among the sculpture forest and began to jot down some questions in my notebook.
I was busy taking selfies when out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone dressed in a black trench coat arrive on the scene. It was Katie. To be honest, I was used to seeing her dressed much more colourfully, so it took me by surprise – even though I had seen her the previous night and had commented on the coat. It’s funny how, when we have spent some time away from a close friend – when some water has passed under the bridge – they become like a different person almost. Her shoes were different. Her bag was different. Her demeanour was different.
It’s true that Katie has been on a musical journey all of her own ever since I broke up our band due to feeling disillusioned and discontent with its direction. It was a tough choice, but I was beginning to find the pressure of singing my own songs was taking its toll on my already fragile emotional and mental state. I didn’t want to break my friendship with Katie, but it’s a kind of natural result of taking away something from someone that they find meaning in. Whether it was the right decision or not I don’t know; but here we are.
So of course, me and Katie made all the usual gestures of being friends, but there was an unspoken distance between us. We had both changed. Still, I think there’s a great deal of love and respect between us which is enough to get past any minor differences and we set about setting up her busking pitch. As we did, a large flock of pigeons flew down and landed near her amplifier. I took photos of them and goofed around, while she, business-like, laid out her equipment in a fashion that suggested familiarity with the location.
As I watched her, it struck me that she reminded me of Kyle Reece, the protagonist from the first Terminator film who travels back through time to help Sarah Connor. I think it was the long trench coat that did it, but she also had a rebellious and artful look about her. She wouldn’t have looked out of place on the set of Oliver Twist, and she was wrapped up in an eclectic set of garments that made me slightly envious – she had clearly dressed for the occasion. Meanwhile, I was wondering how long I would last outdoors with next-to-nothing on!
I decided that it would be best to interview her before she started playing so I took the leap and began recording our conversation. The following is an attempt to recount that conversation as accurately as possible while putting an emphasis on my experiences of knowing her personally. Perhaps my memory doesn’t serve me well at times, but I have tried my best to tell it how I see it.
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A viola player is born
Katie Gittins is a Leeds-based viola player and singer who has been involved in music for around thirty years. At thirty-five years of age, that means she began playing music around the age of five when she was “…picking out tunes on the piano that I’d heard on the radio”. She comes from a musical family and her mother is a cellist and double bassist who performs with the Harrogate Symphony Orchestra among others. As well as her mother, Katie says that her aunts, uncles and cousins were all musical, and one gets the impression that her upbringing was relatively harmonious (pun intended).
She later became interested in the violin after hearing a demonstration by teachers from the Kirklees Music School. But when she told her mum that she wanted to learn violin, her mum apparently retorted “no you don’t, you want to learn viola!” – a statement that would shape the rest of Katie’s musical career. Her mum’s advice was no doubt borne out of her experience of playing in orchestras and she reportedly also told her to “learn a minority instrument” because “more people will want you!”.
“Learn a minority instrument. More people will want you!”
— Katie’s mum
If you don’t have a clue what the difference between a violin and viola is, it’s sort of like the difference between a soprano and a tenor voice in a choir, where the soprano (violin) sings the higher melodies over the harmonies of the tenor (viola). Indeed, much of a viola player’s career is spent playing nondescript harmonies that on their own would sound like the random humming of a postman out on his rounds. So it came as fresh relief to Katie when she began using her instrument in a more lead role capacity.
The Thirteen-year Gap Year
But this came after a thirteen-year hiatus from music after she had given up on performing due to a repetitive strain injury (RSI) that affected the tendons in her wrists and hands. According to Katie, the RSI reached a critical point when she almost dropped her viola and it left her in so much pain that she couldn’t dress herself for a week. Her doctor ordered her not to touch her instrument! In her own words “I dropped out of my degree and essentially out of life”. This must have come as quite a blow to someone who had built their life around music.
“I dropped out of my degree and essentially out of life.”
It was during the aforementioned “degree” that I first met her and although we were little more than acquaintances back then, we still recognised each other fifteen years later when we bumped into each other by pure random chance. When she announced that she would be quitting the course due to her RSI, I felt quite sad for her. Unfortunately, she was one of a few that never went the distance, and had to quit the course before completion. I managed to get through the course, albeit hanging by a thread, with a worsening alcohol problem and a diminishing interest in music.
Reunited by chance
The night I met her again, I had been on a drunken bender with a new friend of mine and we had stopped into The Duck and Drake pub on Kirkgate after hearing a loud band playing. It was John, my friend, that had wanted to investigate the band and I simply followed where the drinks were going. As I stood at the bar I recognised her through the crowd and wondered if I should introduce myself. Alcohol is occasionally good for something, and I imagine if I had been sober I would have talked myself out of it.
I approached her and asked her if she remembered me and if she was called “Jane” or something stupid. She told me that it was “Katie”, but that she did remember me. It was a fun night, and we danced to the band that was playing, she with her elven hair – almost as long as Rapunzel’s – was particularly good at headbanging. We exchanged numbers on the premise of doing some busking together and that’s where her musical career really began to take off again. I think we were definitely fated to meet that night and it was an important juncture for both of us.
Thankfully, Katie has learned to manage her RSI over the years, as she has grown wiser to the condition and she says that it’s all about being relaxed when you’re playing. Katie began busking with me on a regular basis after that initial meeting and we became close friends. This eventually led to the band that has now split up but Katie has been working on her career ever since. She certainly isn’t letting RSI get in the way of her music this time, and she has recording gigs and various bands she performs with. She is, as far as one can see, living the life of a full-time musician, for better or for worse.
Katie’s Influences
Katie’s musical influences include Eliza Carthy and Lindsey Stirling, both female powerhouses of the violin, or fiddle, depending on your school of thought. She says that Eliza Carthy was responsible for getting her into folk and inspiring her to learn how to sing and play at the same time. Lindsey Sterling, however, has inspired Katie to dance as she plays. I have seen her viola playing go from strength to strength during the last two years and she seems incredibly versatile, playing anything from Folk to Hip Hop. She also has an impressive singing voice which lends itself well to folky ballads. Her singing voice is reminiscent of British singer Kirsty MacColl at times.
Katie tells me that she busks almost every day of the week if the weather permits it. She prefers to busk in the evening time as she’s more a night owl (or night cat). Busking on a night isn’t for the feint-hearted and you have to have a special type of character in my opinion to deal with the never-ending supply of drunks. I believe it has something to do with her naturally sweet and laid-back persona that makes “the night time the right time for living”. Her ever-present smile and her disarming personality are her “shield and sword”.
The Purple Cat
Katie is a natural performer, and is up for just about anything – at least in the musical sense! This, of course, puts her in the public eye, and she occasionally has to fend off her share of “admirers”. Earlier this year, Katie gained a rather creepy “fan” who followed her home, believing himself to be her saviour. I imagine this is something that many women struggle with not only in music, but in all walks of life. That’s a whole article in itself, and I’ll just say it saddens me that so many men have so little respect for women.
Thankfully, Katie seems to have a guardian angel with her at all times, and there are plenty of friends who have her back. She is quite the gregarious creature, which is perhaps in contrast to her alter-ego and stage name: Le Chat Violet. The name means “The Purple Cat” in French, and Katie is a well-known cat lover and proud momma of Angel, whom she calls “my baby”. Katie quotes me as the progenitor of her stage name, after I insisted one day that we both needed French names. I never came up with one, but she has gone by Le Chat Violet ever since.
When I asked Katie what her greatest achievement in music was, I immediately regretted it, as I feel like this sort of question puts people on the spot and forces them to come up with some sort of tangible, quantifiable achievement while ignoring the fact that their life is an achievement. Still, I think Katie came up with the best answer when she simply said “I like to think the smiles of people passing by when I’m busking are an achievement”. She added that, while she obviously needs to earn money to feed her family, it’s making people happy that motivates her to keep going back time and time again. I can totally echo this sentiment and the highlight of my own busking career was simply being there, bringing life and culture to an otherwise mundane street. Buskers and street performers should be given a lot more respect for that, in my opinion.
“I like to think the smiles of people passing by when I’m busking are an achievement”
I decided to wrap up the interview as I was aware that I was taking up precious busking time. I finished by asking Katie what were her goals for the future and her answer was surprising. She told me that “I want to be the most famous busker in world”! She is aware of how “ambitious” her idea is, but she sounded optimistic adding that her busking space is a particularly unique stage which lends itself beautifully to live recordings. All I can say is, I wish her all the best with her music career and whether or not she does become the most famous busker in the world, she’s certainly my favourite busker in Leeds!
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Once the interview was over, I sat down to listen to Katie as she began her set. I couldn’t help feeling a deep sense of respect and love for her, as she sat there, patiently working her way through the various Irish jigs and reels with not a single person stopping to thank her. I felt quite emotional and I considered this may well be one of the last quality moments me and her share together before I begin my new life in Sweden. I’m incredibly sensitive like that, I always play things forward which makes it hard to enjoy life sometimes.
The cold was biting at my fingers and I needed to get home. After we said our goodbyes, she struck up an old American civil war tune, Ashokan Farewell. I don’t know if she chose that deliberately, or if it was just the next song on her list but either way, it certainly added a poignant note to our encounter. As I walked home along Boar Lane, past the Friday night revellers who were just gearing up for a night of shenanigans, I wondered if those same drunks would become her customers later. Hopefully they can appreciate the amazing service that musicians like Katie provide to the community and treat her with the respect and dignity she deserves. And, more importantly, drop a tenner in her bag yer tight twats!
You can find Katie on social media via the links below. Be sure to follow her and give her some support!