Music Tom E. Lewis Norman Kaye

Co-composer Tom E. Lewis:

Lewis mixed acting with composing and performing music. Creative Spirits here, has a listing with discography, saved to WM here.

Lewis also has a wiki listing here. The Guardian published this obituary by Lorena Allam here on 11th May 2018:

Murrungun man, actor, singer, songwriter and larger-than-life cultural icon Balang T Lewis died suddenly overnight. Lewis, 59, was rushed to Katherine hospital. His family issued a statement on Friday morning: “It is with tremendous sadness that we confirm the sudden passing of TE Lewis late last night at his home in Katherine, Northern Territory. “Mr Lewis will be forever remembered for his compelling and enduring work on stage and screen over 40 years, as a renowned musician, and as the driving force and vision behind Djilpin Arts with his partner and his extended family of Beswick and Arnhem Land communities. He will be greatly missed. “The family of Mr Lewis ask for privacy during this time. However, in recognition of his extraordinary public life, they have agreed to the use of his image and voice.” Lewis shot to fame at a young age playing the handsome, compelling lead in Fred Schepisi’s 1978 film The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith, and appeared in dozens of Australian films and series over his long career, including the miniseries A Town Like Alice (1981) and We of the Never Never (1985). He also appeared in John Hillcoat’s The Proposition (2005) and more recently as Tommy in Ivan Sen’s 2016 thriller, Goldstone. Lewis had previously worked with Ivan Sen on his powerful personal documentary, Yella Fella, where he explored the emotional cost of growing up as the child of a Welsh father and an Aboriginal mother, born on his beloved Roper River at Ngukurr, west of Katherine. On stage, he had most recently received rave reviews as an Aboriginal “mad King Lear” in the Darwin Theatre company production The Shadow King. He was an accomplished songwriter and musician, releasing two solo albums, and helped establish Djilpin Arts, which Lewis always said was designed to bring “healing medicine” to all people, sharing culture through stories, dance and song. In the film, Lewis contributes to the film by turning a pipe into an improvised didgeridoo. (Below: Tom E. Lewis, and as he appeared in the film) Co-composer Norman Kaye:

Norman Kaye was a regular in Cox’s movies, and was also an organ player and composer.

Kaye has a wiki listing here, he is listed at the AMC here, and at Move here, saved to WM here. For photos of Kaye as seen in the film, see this site’s photo galleries.

The Morning Herald published this obituary by Fabian Muir here on 1st June 2007 under the header Man of flowers, man of passion:

Behind closed doors, Norman Kaye, a man blessed with a remarkable array of artistic gifts, would describe himself as "Norman Kaye, star of stage and screen, star of Carson's Law, Prisoner and Cop Shop". The ironic twinkle in his eye and his playful emphasis on those roles for which he will be least remembered were typical of a gentle, self-effacing individual who quietly contributed much to Australian cultural life. Kaye's rise from a tough, dislocated childhood in Depression-era to the top of his professions as actor and musician was an unlikely story. One of four children of a maimed, impoverished Boer War veteran and a mother who suffered from mental illness, he battled to become one of the most subtle and articulate artists of his day. Two strokes of good fortune put him on his eventual path. He was taken up as a child by the Norton family, who provided a haven from the hardships of his family home. They instilled kindness and taught many of the refined values that would characterise his adult life. Then he approached Dr A.E. Floyd, the organist of St Paul's Cathedral, Melbourne, in search of musical guidance. Floyd immediately recognised Kaye's potential as an organist and granted him free tuition. His generosity would change Kaye's life and set him on course for Britain and France, where he was trained by Pierre Cochereau of Notre Dame Cathedral and won a Premier Prix for conducting at the Nice Conservatorium and another for organ, in 1966. Kaye's musicianship was top class, but he fell victim to homesickness, prompting his return to Australia. Back in Melbourne, the city for which he always harboured the greatest affection, he became organist of St Paul's, and returned to teaching. For 20 years from 1956, he was the director of music at Caulfield Grammar School. He also dedicated himself increasingly to the art for which he would become best known, acting. Kaye acted out of passion, not ambition, being content to play in small theatres, making do with minor roles and no pay. He took joy in acting and loved the world of the stage. In an industry often characterised by rampant egos, the fame and commercial success he enjoyed later were byproducts rather than goals. Part of his charm was a disarming ability to laugh at himself. As with music, acting came naturally, and his ability was recognised in the close-knit artistic circles of 1960s Melbourne. This natural talent was also displayed in private: he was often at his most hilarious at a dining table, where he would slip into an improvised role or parody. In Kaye's world, nothing and no one was too sacred, except perhaps Floyd. He was particularly well suited to comic roles, although his complex and moving performances in films such as showcased his depth and versatility. It was for this role in 1983 that he won the AFI Best Actor award, a vaguely cubist piece of plastic that was used at home as a doorstop. He also wrote the scores for many films. His variations on the otherwise banal Bye Bye Blackbird for 's Lonely Hearts bear his trademark humour and whimsy. It was with Cox, his long-time collaborator and friend, that Kaye had his most public partnership; together they carved out their niches in the film industry. It is difficult to imagine one without the other. Cox paid tribute to their friendship with The Remarkable Mr Kaye, a documentary shown on SBS late last year. Behind the scenes was another partnership, with Elke Neidhardt, the opera director, with whom he enjoyed a loving relationship spanning decades. As Kaye's Alzheimer's disease descended, she was by his side to the end, unlike many of his show industry friends, who had distanced themselves with much the same ruthlessness they had used to pursue careers. For a man whose memory had been engraved with concertos and lines from great theatrical works, there could be no illness more insidious. This slow fading of the light was an unjust ending. Yet, even as his condition deteriorated, he showed his warmth, humour and love of life. He was always welcome to play the organ at St Mary's Anglican Church at Waverley in Sydney, escaping into extraordinary improvisations, his music still stronger than the illness shutting down his mind. He was always welcome when he arrived at Neidhardt's home every morning, a hand-picked bouquet in hand, proposing marriage for the umpteenth time and introducing himself as "the man of flowers". He would then spend hours marvelling at the colours of her garden. He was more than a man of flowers, actor and musician. He was a man of compassion, humanity, modesty, spontaneity, wit and wonderful imagination, and a man who could fly a Tiger Moth, place a pinpoint drop kick and bowl a befuddling flipper. For those living in an age fixated on the artifices of short-lived celebrity, Kaye's death, at 80, gives pause to reflect on another loss to a more humble generation and the lasting legacy of a true gentleman actor.

The Age published a profile of Kaye on 4th December 1993, close to the time of the film: