Decorating The Stage For Mom

by Bob Boilen, with The Shackeltons' Mark Redding

I recently saw The Shackeltons at the South by Southwest music festival and conference in Austin, Texas. I probably saw a hundred bands that week, but none were as impassioned as this one.

I was particularly taken with the heartfelt emotions of singer Mark Redding, who performed on a stage decorated with fresh-cut flowers -- flowers that Redding would toss into the audience in bursts of ecstasy and rapture. It both delighted me and puzzled me.

Mark Redding decorates a Shackeltons stage in New York City. (Credit: Alexandra Marvar)

In honor of Mother's Day, Redding tells us why he decorates every Shackeltons show with flowers.

For the past five years, I've been delivering flowers for a local flower shop -- All Occasions Florist, on Main Street in Chambersburg -- in exchange for flowers for The Shackeltons' shows.

When I was 12 years old, I used to go to the local Chambersburg radio station (Mix 95.1) and help the DJ pick songs to play on the Sunday-morning Gospel Rock show. This DJ's wife had a flower shop, and when I grew up and started this band, DJ Scott asked me to help with deliveries on busy holidays.

I said I would deliver flowers for the payment of flowers. Thus, fresh flowers at all our shows.

Mark Redding and his mom. (Credit:Alison Hood)

Having flowers at our shows is important to me. My mom has always had her original artwork hanging in our home. I now have it in my apartment. Her aesthetics have been ingrained in my heart. My mom was diagnosed with a mental illness years ago, and we found out that she cannot paint while she is on her medication. So her art is very rare. And in her honor (and that of my father and stepfather), I decorate the stage.

This Mother's Day is very special for me. For the past five years, my mom (a widow twice) has been fighting ovarian cancer. Each year, she wins the battle with the help of a great doctor, chemo treatments, her great sense of humor, daily lunches she prepares for her two sons and two grandsons during their work break, and the dinner she makes me each night. (I live a block away from her.) Mom has eight kids and 21 grandchildren.

Mom is quite the wonder woman. She also hosts a local homeless man for breakfast each morning. His name is Jim, and he's always dreamed of being a filmmaker. Mom's other friend is an elderly lady, Rose, who brings Mom fresh produce and bread from the local Salvation Army. Rose is a friendly pack rat, as well as a former hunter, trapper and all-around mountain lady.

The past few years have been my time to make music and be a friend to my mother. As the baby of eight children, I am the only one yet unmarried, and I want to make sure my mom doesn't feel lonely. I travel often with my band, and she is proud of me, but she can't wait till I return. Like I said, I live a block away in Chambersburg. There's a bridge over a waterfall, an old log cabin and a busy downtown street.

In our song "Emergency," I speak of missing my family. I speak of blue eyes. I miss my dad and stepdad. And, as I see my mom in sometimes frail and joyous moments, I feel the urgency of life. It's my desire to bring all of that sweat, swagger, tears and hopes into our shows. One of our new songs is called "The End." That song was written after taking a morning walk with Mom -- and, after hugging her, hearing her say, "This could be my last day."

So if you see tree branches and flowers at our live shows, now you know: My mom is an artist, and I carry that with me to every town and to every club. I couldn't feel at home on a stage without such reminders. And for Mother's Day, I'm happy to have her alive, along with her paintings of birds, birdhouses, lakes, boats and, of course, flowers.

1:32 PM ET | 05- 8-2009 | permalink

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