Bruce & Leah Macfarlane

Stalwarts of the local entertainment scene popular as ever quarter century on

Words Jill Nicholas

Pictures/video Stephen Parker

“We’re just a couple of dinosaurs.”

Bruce and Leah Macfarlane may think so but as far as a lot of other folk hereabouts are concerned they’re deluding themselves.

Sure, they’ve been stalwarts of the local muso scene beyond the quarter of a century mark, but that doesn’t mean they’re rooted in the Jurassic era.

To the contrary, they remain in hot demand as gig maestros, performing at public venues, corporate functions and weddings as frequently as ever they did, or at least as often as the past two years’ Covid restrictions have allowed.

There’s an unarguable reason for their enduring popularity on the local entertainment scene. The Macfarlane duo have the sort of appeal that doesn’t go out of vogue.

They are performers who stick to the tried and true, specialising in material punters can sing along to or, equally, relax into.

Don’t expect any eardrum busting, bone shaking, heavy metal or gangsta rap from them. They’re professionals who accept ‘alternative’ genres have their place in the eclectic world of music. However that place lies outside their easy listening, a touch of country, early rock ‘n roll repertoire. 

It’s not unknown for Bruce to turn up his collar and morph into Elvis.  Almost invariably it’s an encore demanding performance. 

He’s recently broadened their range by going fully acoustic, playing the harmonica, guitar, bass and drums simultaneously. That’s become another smash hit. 

It’s all very impressive but it’s hard yakka attempting to encourage this couple to talk about themselves. They’re the types who, when they’re not claiming to be dinosaurs, attempt to deflect our attention away from them by insisting they’re “really very ordinary”.

In Profile’s standard come back is that those who claim to be ‘ordinary’ are generally far from it.

With the Macfarlanes it’s an icebreaker  - of sorts. They’d still prefer to talk about the generations who went before them and their two talented children. 

Deeply rooted in Rotorua

It took a bit of argy bargy but a deal’s eventually struck and we learn that A grade mechanic Bruce and Leah, who teaches at Owhata kindy, are Rotorua-centric to their cores.  Both families’ roots have been here seemingly forever, serving and entertaining their community

Bruce’s dad, the late John (Rakato) Macfarlane had a fantastic voice but kept it within his whanau.

“He never did much singing outside the comfort of his home, restricting it to family gatherings. That was a huge shame but at 40 he had thyroid problems which affected his voice a lot.”

In his school days Leah’s father, Ron Hall, was a drummer in the Boy’s High band. That’s how he caught the eye of her mum Jo (nee Teat) who was then at Girls’ High. 

After leaving school Ron and a couple of mates formed a group they christened The Roulettes, performing at the Soundshell and other popular venues of the 60s into the 70s.

Leah’s chuffed his entertainment days aren’t done. “Since he and Mum retired to the Mount he continues to perform in and around that area.

“My brothers are musical too, so you can say we have got music in our blood, one of our great grandfathers was an opera singer.”  

Leah’s parents were the couple behind the long-established Halls Furniture Centre in Pukuatua Street, specialising in products made from native wood. When fire virtually wiped the premises out they didn’t take the easy option and walk away. They began again from scratch.

Committed to the community

John Macfarlane had a lengthy career with the Forest Service until he moved to the Te Arawa Maori Trust Board, the forerunner of today’s Te Arawa Lakes Trust. He served as both secretary and chairman. He also chaired the former New Zealand Arts and Crafts Institute Board (now part of Te Puia).  It was one of several iwi leadership roles his father, Harold Macfarlane, held before him.

In addition, John ran the whanau farm at Horohoro.   

Bruce’s mother, the late Ruina Macfarlane, was a foundation teacher at Rotorua Intermediate before transferring to Horohoro School. 

Coincidentally, Bruce and Leah’s daughter, Nathalie, now teaches at Rotorua Intermediate and their son Hohaia (also known as Nelson) is presently on the staff as a temporary teachers’ aid, while maintaining part time employment with the army.

That’s quite some deeply rooted local background this couple come from, so with that established it’s their turn to have In Profile’s spotlight trained on them. First up we   discover how their musical careers were launched.

OE sparks dual singing careers 

In one of life’s quirks both began to sing seriously while on their OE. For Bruce it was in Western Australia. In Leah’s case it was while nannying in London’s “posh as” Chelsea.

We turn our attention to Bruce first simply because he’s the one who’s entertained the longest. That’s logical: age-wise he had a ten-year head start on his wife.

In 1987, the year the America’s Cup was sailed off Fremantle he and a group of mates headed to Perth.

“It was the pinnacle of yachting, we wanted to be a part of it. In Brisbane we pooled our money, bought a car, left on a Thursday and by Sunday we were in Perth having driven non-stop across the Nullarbor [Plain].”

With the hospitality industry buzzing, casual work was plentiful. When cup fever died down Bruce became a builder’s labourer and turned his mind to establishing a musical career. It had been in its fledgling stages when he’d left home.

“I knew Jerry Merito [Howard Morrison Quartet founding member] was a Rotorua person living in Perth so I introduced myself to him. I got a lot of invaluable tips from him; he was the absolute master.”

Bruce already knew Merito’s daughter, Moana. She invited him to get a few favourite Kiwi songs together and join Te Aroha Nui, the kapa haka group she founded to entertain homesick Kiwis working in Western Australia’s remote mining communities. 

“She suggested numbers like Cheryl Moana Marie and Pearly Shells, so they were absolute hits.  Entertaining in those places gave us a great slice of home, we were always given a powhiri when we arrived.” 

Bruce returned home when his mother became terminally ill.

Before he left Perth Merito recommended he make contact with another leading Kiwi muso, Joe Daniels.

“He helped me a lot to get started in New Zealand.”

Supermarket singer

The manager Daniels introduced Bruce to had a contract with the Big Fresh supermarket chain to provide in-store entertainment. Bruce joined the  Rotorua contingent.

“Its members were guys like Joe, Syd Hughes and Rob Patterson who were well established here.” 

“It was a bit of fun, a fantastic place to play even if we were stuck between the dog food and the toilet rolls. People had only come in to buy their groceries but by the time they left you were an entertainer to them.”

The gig lasted until the chain closed, Bruce moved to Cobb & Co, then in Hinemoa Street.

That’s where Leah enters the frame. She hadn’t long been home from her OE.

In London Rotorua man Haki Clayton invited her to be his back-up vocalist, singing in bars around outer London.

“I never saw myself as the front singer.”

Their gigs included entertaining on day trips aboard the English Channel Dover to Calais ferry crossings. 

Leah drops into the conversation she started singing before she could talk.

She was still a youngster when her elder brother bought her her first microphone. 

“I thought I was the blonde one from Abba, it was quite funny really.”

Smitten at first sight

Once home and training as a kindy teacher, Leah and a posse of girlfriends socialised at the Cobb, listening to John MacRae [another local entertainer].

“One day I walked in and there was this new guy on the stage. I turned to my friend and said ‘I’m going to marry that guy’. She said ‘who is he?’ I said ‘I don’t have a clue but I have fallen in love with him’.”

A visit or two later she caught his eye. Their first date was to the movies to see Four Weddings and a Funeral. They’ve recently celebrated their silver wedding anniversary.

They began singing together a couple of years before they married.

“Bruce had been singing with Krissy Knapp; they had a great partnership. When she went to Australia he got me up, and we began rehearsing together at home. We still do, not that we look at it as rehearsing, we sing together as a family.”    

Both insist their children’s vocal abilities are better than their own.

Son Hohaia, a former Boy’s High head prefect, sang Caruso, the tribute song to the late opera maestro Pavarotti at Lakeside 2018.  He has performed with Sol3Mio, at Opera in the Pa and entertained Prince Harry and Meghan Markle during their Rotorua visit.

Despite having what her mother says is a beautiful voice, daughter Nathalie favours dance. After 15 years at Ann Samson’s School of Ballet she was hand-picked for a cameo role when the New Zealand Ballet performed Giselle in Rotorua.

Who can argue that this is a bi-cultural family who together equal one great big package of talent?

In a dark place 

But their lives haven’t been without its dark side.

When Nathalie was a baby and Leah a stay-at-home mum, Bruce was diagnosed with testicular cancer.

He underwent chemotherapy while still holding down his mechanic’s job and gigging at night. He’s the kind who personifies the show biz phrase “The show must go on”:  

“People go out to be entertained so you stick on your plastic smile, you are there to make people happy.

“We managed to keep our heads above water but it was tough, eh Leah?”

She doesn’t need to reply, her damp eyes say it all as Bruce recalls the scary days of living on two minute noodles.  

 The couple were told they’d be unable to have more children, they defied the prediction: Hohaia arrived within a year of Bruce’s chemo ending.

He sums up the miracle of his recovery

“Cancer is just another thing life throws at you. I am one of the lucky ones who’s come out the other end and survived it.”