Get To Know : Dominie Hooper
You’ve spoken about taking your time before stepping into a solo project. What was your turning point?
Before the pandemic, I spent years working on other people’s projects alongside various zero-hour jobs. I didn’t go to music college so was constantly grappling with imposter syndrome, but nevertheless I was working on theatre projects, as a band collaborator and had just got DYCP funding. I had *just* managed to line up 6 months of stuff, and thought I’d finally cracked it, when lockdown happened and it all got cancelled. The sudden abyss forced me to confront the fact that I didn’t have anything going on of my own - and that was because I was utterly terrified of doing that. There was no shying away from it anymore. It was a sudden realisation that I wanted it very much and everything else was a side-step. I applied for the English Folk Expo’s Artist Mentoring programme in 2020, something I almost didn’t do thinking i simply wouldn’t get accepted. It changed my life. I’ve grown so much as an artist and a person since then. It’s definitely a labour of love but I’ve never felt so committed to anything. I’ve become more myself through it. Doesn’t really matter what happens now!
How do Dartmoor’s landscapes or isolation still find their way into your music today?
For this album I wanted to go back to the “source”. I went home to Dartmoor and visited the places I grew up - drove around the tiny single-track roads, sat alone on the silent hills, visited moss, dry stone walls and stone circles. I sat alone for hours and remembered. Sometimes I write songs that are just stories about my life, but try to keep it open enough for others to be inside. Nature and fantasy is often in my lyrics, it just comes to hand. I think there’s a kind of home-spun paganism constantly running in the background. I think musically as well I am drawn to more broad strokes - long notes, simple melodies, low flying suns over vast hills. With this album also I really tried to find more space and minimalism in some of the production... anyone who’s ever recorded anything knows that's easier said than done.
Your sound has shifted from more intimate folk into heavier, dronier territory. What pushed you in that direction?
I think for years, maybe my whole life, I have been boxed into this ‘nice girl’ space that has felt so oppressive and not who I am. It’s been my great personal challenge to break free from the conditioning that has made it difficult for me to be as loud and gritty as I feel inside. I have always wanted to be louder. Less apologetic, less amenable, less afraid of letting my real feelings and thoughts out. I like dirt, I know pain, and I feel catharsis through loud noises. I’d been waiting for permission to embody those sounds and with this album it was less of a choice and more a compulsion. Finding new ways to make my cello sound more gnarly is a constant journey, too, so we’re not done yet.
How does your training in physical theatre shape the way you perform music. Does it change how you think about stillness, movement, or even silence on stage?
Yes - it completely informs the way I am on stage. Both physically and psychologically. A lot of the training involved simply allowing yourself to be observed, just as you are. That can be excruciating, but there’s a kind of masochistic pleasure in that. Here I am. This is it. It’s almost a relief. I prefer to go for that kind of ego-death rather than glossy performer front - in the same way that the art that moves me tends to be real, not polished. The training taught me to trust myself in the free-fall, to not plan anything but allow my subconscious to flow - I don’t know where we’ll land but we’re going there together. Those are the best ones - when the audience meets me in the middle and the energy between stage and floor is collaborative. It’s co-created performance. Maybe it’s about trust.
You’ve said memory plays a big role in your songs. Do you ever write about something before you fully understand it yourself?
All the time. In fact almost always. When I’m writing it I often think it’s cheesy or boring or obvious. It’ll be six months, a year later when I go - wait... how did I know that!?
You’ve said some songs feel like therapy. Are there any you’re holding back from releasing because they still feel too raw or too sacred?
You know what, I really went there with this album. There’s songs and lyrics on here that I felt VERY naked about releasing. I think it’s all part of the journey of breaking down those barriers to using my voice and allowing myself to really say what’s going on inside. The thing I’m realising is there will always be more things to feel like that about. At least I hope there will!
What can listeners expect from you for the rest of the year?
The rest of 2025 holds live shows - getting the album on it’s feet, the album launch at Moth Club on 27th Nov which will involve my coven of witches that you can hear on the album and hopefully some extra cello action! And 2026 there will be a lot of live shows, festivals and hopefully some new surprises!