I interviewed TVNZ journalist and flamenco guitarist Ian Sinclair last month, for Queenstown’s arts e-newsletter ArtFacts. Though I’ve lived in New Zealand for many years now, the accent still trips me up occasionally. So when Ian Sinclair told me a police office wanted to “start a fire” on him, I was shocked. But, it turns out, he actually said “start a file” on him… a lot less dramatic. Fortunately, both Ian and my editor found this pretty funny.

Ian Sinclair performed in Arrowtown last night, as part of an Arts on Tour event. He was fantastic – both as a flamenco artist and as a storyteller, regaling tales from his incredible career in journalism.

Here’s the original piece I wrote for ArtyFacts…

Ian Sinclair: On dictators, news media and flamenco

Queens and dictators, music and news. Ian Sinclair’s career has been an unusual one. 

What started out as a passion for flamenco guitar playing turned into an international, award-winning career in news journalism. A story Ian will delve into during his flamenco performance on 10th March in Arrowtown. 

Ian was introduced to the guitar by his Nana and flamenco quickly became his favourite style. At University, he was asked by the editors of the student newspaper to interview a flamenco band (who later formed the Gypsy Kings). 

“I had this idea that I either wanted to be a flamenco guitarist or a writer,” he explains, “I remember the guitarist had gold teeth. They asked if I wanted to be the rock reporter for the university newspaper after that and I thought: oh, free tickets to gigs, what’s not to like about that?!

“So I interviewed Elton John and Rod Stewart, and Ronnie Woods who then joined the Rolling Stones, all in one summer. When I was only 20, I had lunch with Jethro Tull. I was a complete dude, my head swelled up!” 

In the hands of the fascist dictatorship 

After university, Ian felt the call back to flamenco guitar. He packed his bags and moved to Spain, which was still under the rule of General Francisco Franco. For Ian, Spain was an opportunity to explore flamenco music further and to study under some of Spain’s best guitarists. But as he explored Spain, General Franco’s influence was palpable. 

General Franco played a key role in the 1936-1939 Spanish Civil War, which tore apart families and communities. After the war, Franco was the head of the fascist dictatorship. An estimated 150,000 people were killed by Franco's regime and around 450,000 were forced to leave Spain. The regime ended with Franco’s death in 1975, but the war and its aftermath still divides public opinion today.  

One afternoon in the heart of Seville, Ian stumbled across a rally in support of Franco. A red carpet had been rolled out for officials, who were shouting to the crowds. Guards kitted out in old Gestapo uniforms and rifles kept watch over a noisy crowd, which consisted of townspeople and priests alike. 

“Imagine this: there they were, fascist supporters and guards in army surplus gear that had been handed out by the Nazis, dressed like they were in the 1930s again. And I walked in, wearing a tie-dye tee shirt and a hippy haircut with my guitar over my shoulder… and flared jeans, horrible, 1970s flared jeans. It was like I was from a different planet. 

“One of them looked at me like he wanted to eat my liver and I thought: hmm, maybe I’ll leave.”

Ian soon learned that it wasn’t just his clothes that were out of place. Not long after the rally, he was at a friend’s house when he spotted a charcoal depiction of Franco in fully uniform hanging on the wall. His friend’s father indicated that he’d served under Franco during the war and Ian retorted that his father had served too – but on the opposite side, with the international forces. It didn’t go down well and Ian’s friend warned him that his “big mouth” would mean he’d be picked up by the Spanish secret police. His friend advised him to carry his New Zealand passport at all times and, if the situation arose, to never argue with the secret police because many of them had been trained by the Gestapo. 

A big-mouthed gringo

“Sure enough, a few days later, I was picked up while talking to friends in a bar in the old quarter. They put me in a paddy waggon and took me to the police station where I was lined up against a wall with a whole load of other people. We were taken in one by one and I was the last. Suddenly, a guard came past wearing a strange smile. He was with a boy about my age and he had a piece of paper with incommunicado written in ballpoint pen. I met the boy’s eyes and I saw that his whole face was purple – he’d been severely beaten and tortured and they were obviously taking him back for more interrogation. I realised then they’d hold me as long as they wanted to. 

“I thought: I’m a New Zealander, I should be okay. I was taken into the office and the policeman had a piece of paper, it was sort of like newsprint paper, and he started winding it in, and I thought: oh no, he’s going to use it to start a fire* on me. So I asked why I was there. He said: well, you were in an area that has a high level of crime and I want to know what you are doing. 

“Oh señor, I said, and gave him the whole flamenco guitar thing: all my life I have wanted to come here and play guitar and I was exploring the old quarter with friends and we were looking for flamenco. He looked horrified. He had this expression on his face that said: oh no, another gringo who thinks he’s a gypsy. And he said: you can go, but go quietly. 

“He took me to the door and I gave him a big friendly wave and I thought: you know what? I’m bloody lucky that my father spent five years fighting Nazis. He injured himself badly. He survived eight crash landings. He did that so that this wouldn’t happen to me. So never again will I fear authority because I am a New Zealander and they can’t do this to me. I’m going to be a hardened news reporter and not a music writer. So that’s what turned me. I went back to New Zealand and I studied journalism in Auckland and went from there.” 

Pigs and the Queen

Ian Sinclair went on to spend a decade in newspapers and radio reporting and more than three decades in television reporting. 

He’s covered everything from the Rainbow Warrior attack to the Kosovo War and has won awards for his investigation into the corruption scandal involving Labour MP Taito Phillip Field. In 2009, he investigated pig factory farming and went on to launch a controversial investigation into the mistreatment of bobby calves in the dairy industry in 2015.

Ian says his flamenco performance on the 10th March will include stories and video clips from his decades of reporting, including funny, untold stories. 

“I’ll be telling stories and about the time I annoyed the Queen (quite unintentionally), and the time we made up. And the time I had to cover a rugby match, but really I was no good at it… all the things that have made my life full and rich. I’ve had these two radically different and remarkably similar things in my life. 

“I’ll be talking about the unlikely relationship between flamenco and journalism and you’ll learn about the way flamenco works, why it is, why it has this rich, deep and dark feel – sometimes it struts, sometimes it wails. It is the music of the underdog. It’s about the struggle, it’s about ordinary life and love. 

“And deep down, it is all about tolerance. It is an echo of a golden age in Spanish history when Jews, Muslims and Christians lived together very well, before the crusades […] and that’s why Flamenco exciting mixture of exciting and beautiful, it’s all one romantic and passionate moment.” 

 *file – see opening comment

Ian Sinclair – My Secret Life 

7:30pm, 10th March

Arrowtown Athenaeum Hall