{"id":97992,"date":"2025-09-22T17:00:38","date_gmt":"2025-09-22T07:00:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.signatureluxurytravel.com.au\/?p=97992"},"modified":"2025-09-22T17:02:34","modified_gmt":"2025-09-22T07:02:34","slug":"warren-ellis","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.signatureluxurytravel.com.au\/warren-ellis\/","title":{"rendered":"Meet avant-garde musical savant Warren Ellis"},"content":{"rendered":"

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_empty_space height=”15px”][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1758523953179{margin-bottom: 15px !important;}”]Avant-garde musical savant and Nick Cave\u2019s key creative collaborator, Warren Ellis discusses escape, sanctuary, travel, family and gratitude. <\/strong><\/em>Interview by Christian Barker<\/p>\n

When we connect with Warren Ellis over Zoom, he\u2019s in his bed in a Toronto hotel room, a few days into Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds\u2019 \u2018The Wild God Tour\u2019 of North America. He apologises for his unkempt appearance, wiry hair and bushranger beard dishevelled, wearing shorts and a battered AC\/DC T-shirt.<\/p>\n

He may not be as mainstream famous as that iconic Aussie rock\u2019n\u2019roll band, but ask any serious sonic connoisseur and they\u2019ll tell you: Ellis is one of Australia\u2019s greatest musical exports. The hirsute 60-year-old multi-instrumentalist (he plays violin, viola, piano, accordion, guitar, bouzouki, mandolin and flute) first broke out in the early 1990s with genre-defying trio, Dirty Three, and has been a core member of Nick Cave\u2019s band The Bad Seeds since 1995.<\/p>\n

Over the past two decades Ellis has also worked extensively on film scores, mostly in collaboration with Cave, the duo recently partnering to compose the score for Sam Taylor-Wood\u2019s Amy Winehouse biopic, Back to Black. Now, Ellis has become the subject of a film himself, with the release of Ellis Park. The documentary, a highlight of the 2025 Sydney Film Festival, explores Ellis\u2019s family and small-town background, the genesis of his musical career and years of addiction, as well as his recent support for a wildlife sanctuary in Sumatra, which gives the film its name.[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”97995″ img_size=”full” add_caption=”yes” css=”.vc_custom_1758523868149{margin-bottom: 15px !important;}”][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1758522574387{margin-bottom: 15px !important;}”]SIGNATURE: Watching Ellis Park, I was moved by the scenes with you and your father, who\u2019s since passed. One moment that stood out was his act of literally packing up his dreams \u2013 placing the souvenirs of his early music career into a box and tucking it away in a cupboard, choosing a more practical path, prioritising his family over his passion. Do you feel a profound sense of gratitude for the sacrifices your parents made, allowing you the freedom to pursue a creative life?<\/strong><\/p>\n

WARREN ELLIS: I didn\u2019t really think about things like gratitude until I became a parent. You don\u2019t really understand your own history until you\u2019re looking back on it. So it\u2019s a recent thing, this gratitude. I think it probably started when I wrote my book. [The 2022 memoir, Nina Simone\u2019s Gum.] That\u2019s when I began to understand things, because I had to look at my backstory. I was told I needed to explore why I did what I did \u2013 why music was important to me. And I\u2019d never really thought about that before. So yeah, that gratitude you\u2019re talking about\u2026 it was there.<\/p>\n

But I have to say, when I stepped out with a needle in my arm, a bottle of whiskey, and a violin plugged into an amp, my parents were in no way encouraging me to go down that road. If anything, my dad was\u2026 Well, I\u2019d started studying to be a teacher, yeah? And when I didn\u2019t follow through with that, he wasn\u2019t exactly disappointed, but he didn\u2019t understand it. He was like, \u201cI don\u2019t get it \u2013 you could\u2019ve had a Volvo.\u201d\u00a0 When I jumped into music, it wasn\u2019t because I thought it was going to go somewhere. I just woke up one day and wasn\u2019t wondering what I was doing with my life anymore. I felt good.<\/p>\n

So, were they encouraging? Yeah, in a way. But it wasn\u2019t like my dad thought, \u201cOh cool, you\u2019re living your dreams.\u201d Far from it. And I wouldn\u2019t expect him to. He came from a very poor background. He started working when he was 15. It would be romanticising it to say he saw it that way. And I wouldn\u2019t expect him to.<\/p>\n

But they supported me. They really did. My dad followed me until the end. He always knew where I was playing. He always knew what songs we played at, like, the show in Munich. He was really proud of me. And I think he could see that I\u2019d lived his dream, you know?[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1758523976675{margin-bottom: 15px !important;}”]<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cWe met on Zoom and in the space of 20 seconds, I knew I was looking at this extraordinary person doing this extraordinary thing. <\/strong>I thought, \u2018Okay, I\u2019ll help them\u2019… I never wanted to be public about it\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1758522657138{margin-bottom: 15px !important;}”]Having grown up in Ballarat, do you think your experiences \u2013 coming from a remote and probably close-minded, insular place, as your recollections in the doco suggest \u2013 created a connection with Nick Cave, who had a similar upbringing in the small Victorian town of Warracknabeal?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Yeah, but I think it\u2019s very normal. It\u2019s logical. If you wanted to get out of a small place like that \u2013 there weren\u2019t outlets. There wasn\u2019t the internet to see what was going on. No Spotify. You had to dig. And it made you hungry. It made you dream. It fired your imagination. When I first went to England, I didn\u2019t believe it was real until I got there. I wanted to see it. I was like, \u201cWow, it\u2019s really here.\u201d<\/p>\n

I think that\u2019s a very normal story for people who come from rural areas. Some people are happy to stay, but for others, it makes you hungry. Back in the time I\u2019m talking about, when I was a kid, the information coming in was really minimal. So you just had to create a lot in your head. Growing up in the country was great for that \u2013 you could just jump on your bike, ride out, and be off the grid real quick. My imagination would just run rampant. We\u2019d be doing wild things \u2013 crazy stuff, like playing on old trains and all that. If I thought my kids were doing the same, I\u2019d probably freak out. But
\nI loved it.<\/p>\n

Riding along the line, trucks full of sheep flying past \u2013 you just didn\u2019t think about it. You weren\u2019t texting your mum to say where you were. Once you stepped out the door, you were in the world. I really loved that freedom that growing up in a place like Ballarat gave me.<\/p>\n

I was in the suburbs there, and I loved that kind of freedom, to just sit and think about stuff, or whatever. I didn\u2019t realise it at the time, but growing up in a town like that\u2026<\/p>\n

All that stuff only really made sense looking back at it now \u2013 not mentally, but just seeing the points in my life where things shifted. Making this film did that for me, same as writing the book. It made me look at my life in a way I\u2019d never wanted to before.<\/p>\n

My work\u2019s always been about the now. The only thing that matters is what\u2019s coming next. I don\u2019t stack up my achievements or sit on my successes. That makes you flabby. I\u2019ve never had that approach, like, \u201cWell, I did the music for Jesse James [The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, 2007], so I guess I can be happy now.\u201d I don\u2019t think like that. This process forced me to look at things, to look at the points in my life where things changed.[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”97996″ img_size=”full” add_caption=”yes” css=”.vc_custom_1758523889723{margin-bottom: 15px !important;}”][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1758522714739{margin-bottom: 15px !important;}”]You\u2019re based in Paris now, right? That\u2019s where you live when you\u2019re not on tour?<\/strong>
\nBetween Paris and London, yeah.<\/p>\n

What is it you love about those cities? What drew you to them \u2013 apart from your partner being from France, which<\/strong>
\nI imagine was a strong pull?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Well, Paris was because I met my girlfriend at the time \u2013 we got married, had kids. But honestly, I wanted to live anywhere but Australia. From about 1984 onwards, I just wanted to be anywhere else. You could\u2019ve sent me wherever \u2013 I just wanted to be anywhere else. That was just something I went through at the time. I don\u2019t know, man. You just end up in places because life takes you there \u2013 if you get out and get into life.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m so grateful I was born in Australia, because I think it gave me a foundation to deal with most things. That sense of space, and the sense of possibility \u2013 and the desire to get out. That was such a great thing to have. It\u2019s what gets you out of home, away from your parents. You do these things because you\u2019ve got to get out. You\u2019ve got to get away from stuff. I think there was a thing \u2013 maybe it was generational. I don\u2019t know how old you are, but I\u2019m 60, and in my age group, there was this thing where we all wanted to get out.<\/p>\n

With Dirty Three, we knew we had to find an audience outside of Australia, or we wouldn\u2019t exist. We were just a small, marginal band playing to a few hundred people. We knew they\u2019d get bored \u2013 and we\u2019d get bored, too. So we had to get out. And that\u2019s a good way to be \u2013 knowing you\u2019ve got to leave. There\u2019s nothing like leaving a city, dude. Nothing like waking up and knowing, \u201cTomorrow I\u2019ve got to go to Philadelphia.\u201d That\u2019s the great thing about touring. I love that. It shows you how easy it is to just go in and get out. And I\u2019d always had issues with home environments, as you can see in the film. So travelling and getting out \u2013 that was something I knew deeply.[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”97999″ img_size=”full” add_caption=”yes” css=”.vc_custom_1758524360341{margin-bottom: 15px !important;}”][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1758522737753{margin-bottom: 15px !important;}”]On tour, how do you make yourself feel at home when you\u2019re in a different city and a different hotel every night? Or do you not even try to settle in?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ah, I don\u2019t think about it. I\u2019ve got a suitcase, I\u2019ve got my stuff\u2026 I don\u2019t think about trying to feel at home. I\u2019ve got other things to think about. The show. What\u2019s next. I call my kids, and suddenly home is there. I talk to my wife. That\u2019s home, you know?[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text css=”.vc_custom_1758522809594{margin-bottom: 15px !important;}”]Part of this documentary is about your family and hometown, but its core focus is the great work you\u2019re doing in Sumatra, financially supporting the wildlife sanctuary now named in your honour, Ellis Park. In the film, you mention that you hadn\u2019t even met the founder, Femke den Haas, before you committed to supporting the project. So what drew you to it? What sparked your interest in backing a wildlife reserve caring for animals that have been exploited, abused or smuggled?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Well, I\u2019ve always kind of given to people on the streets and tried to support things, like M\u00e9decins Sans Fronti\u00e8res and stuff like that. But with the bigger organisations, you\u2019d always hear that their integrity was questionable, and that the money wasn\u2019t actually all getting to the people who needed it.<\/p>\n

So I was looking to donate some money. During COVID, I was supporting orchestras and things like that. I realised I was in a privileged position \u2014 I could weather it out, where many couldn\u2019t. Then a friend of mine \u2013 Lorinda Jane, who used to book Dirty Three \u2013 introduced me to Femke. I\u2019d said I was looking to do something like that, and we met on Zoom. And, well, I say it in the film \u2013 in the space of 20 seconds, I just kind of knew I was looking at this extraordinary person doing this extraordinary thing.<\/p>\n

At first, I thought, \u201cOkay, I\u2019ll help them get some land.\u201d I figured that would be it. But then I realised we had to build the thing. There wasn\u2019t anything there. It was just a group of people over there, struggling against the elements, struggling financially. It wasn\u2019t some long-held idea I\u2019d been mulling over. I never wanted to be public about it. But eventually, I decided I needed to run it up the flag and see how it went.[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Read more:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Waste not, want not: Chef Josh Niland’s radical food philosophy<\/a>
\nFormehri: the creative journey of Andrew Doyle<\/a><\/p>\n

This article originally appeared in volume 51 of Signature Luxury Travel & Style<\/em> magazine. Subscribe to the latest issue today<\/a> or be the first to see more exclusive online content by subscribing to the enewsletter below.<\/p>\n

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