Maestro masters music
She’s pushed trolleys, worked at Maccas, waited tables and cleaned toilets of a ‘grotty old’ Melbourne pub.
And like most aspiring musicians, Patty Preece has also experienced the life of being a struggling muso.
But from humble beginnings, the now music maestro has added a Masters degree to their repertoire - and it’s been a long road to getting there.
“I think it’s about having passion for what you are doing and believing in yourself and your art form,” Patty explains.
“We often talk about creating a reality TV called artist survivor – where everyday people have to live a day in the life of an artist.
“You have to go to this gig – you won’t get paid for it. To get there you have to drive six hours and the last hour is on a dirt road. There’s no food or accommodation for you – but you’ll get really great exposure!
“I have countless stories like this – playing really weird gigs for exposure. It has been an uphill battle at times, but this is the stuff you can’t learn in a classroom – you really have to experience it.”
Patty, who is also on a journey of identity, has had an incredibly colourful adventure to get to where they are today.
“When I left high school in Mackay I wanted to go to the big city and be an elite athlete. I trained for a couple of years at the Queensland academy of sport and represented Queensland in hockey,” she says.
“I also had a stint playing Gaelic football and was named in an honorary Australian side at the national titles. I could bench press, pull up and do a mad handstand, but I was studying Occupational Therapy at the time and just felt that a life in sport didn’t hold as much meaning for me as caring for and working with marginalised groups in my community.”
So, Patty ‘ditched’ her sporting life and worked for years in mental health.
“My first gig out of uni was at the Forensic Mental health facility at The Park in Wolston. This was a real eye opener and helped me to see the outcomes of structural injustices. I started a music group here – we would play guitars, sing and write songs…whatever the day needed. It was catharsis, community and connection. It was this job that led me to becoming a music tech.”
Patty said the groups they were working with were writing some great original songs.
“I really wanted to record them but recording studios at the time were expensive and not so accessible. So, I decided to study a diploma of music industry technical production at TAFE on the Gold Coast. I bought myself a home recording setup and just fell in the love with the process of capturing music.”
Patty says that although a music career wasn’t always on the horizon, she’s always been a listener and lover of music.
Like most of us - a Sony Walkman and a Salt-N-Pepa cassette was all I needed to escape.
“I lost my dad when I was 12 years old and this was such a hard age to do anything, let alone process grief and emotions...music was that place that I could go to, to help me understand my feelings or to just escape them.”
She’s also always loved playing music.
“At primary school I learnt to play trumpet first (after the recorder, of course) and then drums at high school.
“In my first band as a grown-up - Bertha Control - I developed a clear association with music and identity and its role as a potential agent for social change. The band had a riot grrrl ethos, writing songs about oppressive social structures and playing at political rallies around Brisbane. We also believed in encouraging women’s participation in the music industry. I recorded and played on our second studio album Songs of Sedition (John Howard had just brought in the sedition laws at the time).”
From there, Patty created the band Shiny Shiny with fellow musicians Melania Jack and Bec Newman.
“This band was all about exploring a queer electro flash performance art aesthetic. We played electric guitars with drills, dressed up in crazy costumes and generally tried to push the boundaries of electronic music performance,” she says.
Patty now puts her performance energy into the duo Ironing Maidens - formed with partner Melania Jack in Byron Bay a decade ago.
“Ironing Maidens was originally the capstone project for my Bachelor or Audio Production at SAE. I had just read about the amazing work of Daphne Oram and Delia Derbyshire – both BBC radiophonic electronic music pioneers – and I was keen to explore how instrument design could shape my music practice.”
At around the same time, Melania was editing together some old vintage footage of a housewife ironing, for a film clip for Shiny Shiny.
“She cut the downward motion of an iron hitting an ironing board to the beat, so that it appeared as though the ironer was making a sic beat,” Patty recalls.
“Melania then said to me ‘do you think we could make an instrument that did that? Bang on the ironing board to make a beat’? From there, I learnt the basics of electronics and programming and made a series of iron instruments. We wrote some kooky songs and created a live gig, theatre-inspired electronic music band. We’ve been playing and touring ever since.”
In addition to her musical passions, Patty is also a respected member of CQUniversity’s School of Education and the Arts.
“I have been working for CQU for six years now. I relocated from Byron Bay to Cairns to take on the role of creative arts technician and associate lecturer for the Bachelor of Creative Arts course. During COVID, the course was phased out and I now teach into the Bachelor of Music program,” Patty explains.
“I created a music tech minor and deliver this primarily online to students all around the country.”
Adding just another of the many feathers to her cap, Patty recently completed a Master of Research thesis, creating the audiovisual installation Oscillations to critically explore the intersection of sound, gender and technology as a way to deconstruct stereotypical ideas of gender and gender roles.
“I wanted to expand my practice and my thinking about gender, music and design. While lots of the Ironing Maidens work looks closely at issues of gender equity, I felt that I needed to be critical of my own practice and dig a bit deeper to explore the more structural issues of gender. In my exegesis I talk about how capitalism cashes in on ideas of gender equality – the future is female – and historical biases such as the lone female pioneer of electronic music. These real issues of gender inequities can now be packaged up, marketed and sold - further entrenching neo-liberal values of individualism. If we are not looking at the underlying structures that continue to oppress, then we are at risk of reproducing these issues,” Patty says.
When not teaching, studying or performing - Patty can be found mentoring the next generation of artists.
“Mentorship and knowledge-sharing form the cornerstone of my professional ethos,” Patty says.
“I recently concluded a two-week tour of the Wide Bay Burnett region, collaborating with the Ironing Maidens to conduct a series of dance and music workshops. We worked with over 150 people in the region and visited schools with as few as 10 students spanning prep to Year 6 and, in some cases, lacking a dedicated music teacher. It really hit home how important music and the arts are for sparking creativity, letting emotions fly, and connecting with others – especially in schools dealing with limited resources” she says.
“I'm a big fan of programs that bridge knowledge gaps, empower aspiring talents, and offer guidance in navigating the ropes of their chosen fields. These mentorship initiatives are like secret weapons for personal and professional growth, helping nurture the next generation of artists and keeping the artistic flame burning strong.”
While grey skies might loom, the future continues to look bright for Patty.
“The music and arts scene has gone through some major changes over the years, thanks to recording tech, digital audio workstations (DAWs), and the Internet. These disruptions have democratised the creation process, enabling artists to produce music in the intimate confines of their bedrooms, bypassing the traditional wait for record companies' discovery. But despite these changes there is real disparity in the intrinsic cultural value given to the arts,” she explains.
“The federal arts budget is often the first casualty, reflecting a disconnect between the industry's economic sustainability and its cultural significance. Many artists, including myself, find it increasingly challenging to sustain a livelihood solely through their craft, leading to a prevalence of side hustles in teaching or hospitality within the industry. Even platforms like Spotify have altered the landscape by revising royalty payouts, raising concerns about the economic viability for musicians. Amidst the looming threat of AI and a shift from active to passive listener habits, questions about the future of musicians arise. In this climate.
I advocate for a recalibration of our societal perspective on the arts, valuing it not just as an economic entity but as a community-oriented art form, a healing modality, and a powerful teaching tool.
“Shaping a future that embraces these dimensions holds the key to preserving the value of arts beyond mere economic metrics.”
