from the other girls. Many was the time she dearly wished she was simply called Claire Smith or had some other surname less fanciful than her own. Her natural shyness, however, coexisted with a strong innate desire to perform.
The first tangible signs that Olivia might be destined for a career in the public eye came when she was twelve. Rona entered Olivia for a local cinema’s contest to find a Hayley Mills lookalike, a girl who resembled the young British actress who was then making a name for herself as a child star in films like Tiger Bay , Pollyanna and The Parent Trap . Olivia duly won but, although she went on to become president of drama at her school and take part in many school productions, she was never going to be Australia’s answer to Hayley - in her heart she was much keener on music than acting.
The Hayley Mills experience did, however, lead to an appearance at the local Melbourne theatre as a cherub in the religious play Green Pastures , but music took on a new meaning for her when her mother bought her an acoustic guitar when she was thirteen. She began to learn a few basic chords and soon mastered enough to accompany herself on ‘Where Have All The Flowers Gone?’. Olivia even managed to write her first song at thirteen, called ‘Why Does It Have To Be?’.
By the following year, Olivia was interested enough in singing to form a folk group with three other girls, two of whom, she later laughingly recalled, were tone deaf. They called themselves the Sol Four, a name they all agreed sounded ultra-sophisticated and avant-garde because it included the French word for ‘sun’.
‘We were awful!’ Olivia later conceded. Dressed in hessian jackets, black polo necks and desert boots, the girls thought they were the epitome of beatnik cool as they trilled the folksy favourites of the day like ‘Down By The Riverside’, ‘Tom Dooley’ and ‘Michael Row The Boat Ashore’.
The Sol Four made time to rehearse after school and at the weekends Olivia sneaked out to join the other three for appearances at local folk and trad jazz clubs. But audiences were often distinctly underwhelmed by Sol Four’s vocal efforts (unsurprising given half of them were tone deaf). Olivia remembers it was not uncommon for the group’s performances to be greeted by derisory boos or a shower of coins. The quartet eventually disbanded, but not through lack of vocal talent. Irene decided that Olivia was spending far too much time on Sol Four because her homework was starting to suffer.
Olivia remained undaunted and looked ahead to the day when she might perhaps become a singer full-time. Both Irene and Olivia’s father had mixed feelings about her leanings towards a singing career. Both harboured hopes that she would eventually go on to university, though she was not a pupil who stood out academically. ‘I don’t think I was very noticeable. I was always the youngest in my class and felt that everyone knew what was going on and I didn’t.’ Irene was also shrewd enough to appreciate that Olivia’s burgeoning talent for singing needed nurturing, so she packed her off to the best vocal coach in Melbourne for lessons.
Olivia went along just to please her mother. She returned home after the first lesson unimpressed and complaining that the coach had put her through some scales and then asked her to project her voice in a way she felt was unnatural. The teacher was of the opinion that Olivia had the right vocal range for opera but felt she needed to sing out more forcefully. Olivia herself was unhappy that he was trying to change the soft and gentle manner in which she sang and she returned home disconsolate. Olivia never went back for a second lesson. ‘I always had a mind of my own,’ she says.
Apart from music, animals continued to be an abiding passion in Olivia’s life. ‘There was a period when I considered being a vet. But when it came to the point I found I just couldn’t discipline myself to the necessary