Standing in the wings of the Sanderson Centre for the Performing Arts in Brantford, you can feel the history. It is a room that demands respect, and for Michelle Wright, it is a homecoming. The air in the 519 is different in December—crisp, biting and smelling of woodsmoke. This is the territory that birthed a powerhouse, and as she prepares to launch her 2019 Christmas Tour on Dec. 3, there is a sense that Wright is no longer just a performer. She is an institution.
The tour is a calculated sprint through Ontario and Alberta, wrapping up Dec. 15. But before she leaves the area, she hits the Wingham Town Hall Heritage Theatre on Dec. 4. These rooms are intimate, a far cry from the massive stages she has dominated for nearly four decades. And that is the point. The Michelle Wright Christmas Tour has become a holiday staple, a decade-long tradition that blends carols with the grit of a woman who has seen every corner of the music industry.
We sat down with Wright to talk about the dirt under her fingernails and the neon lights of Nashville. She is from Merlin, Ontario—a place where the sky is big and the opportunities are usually small. But Wright found a way out through the very music her parents lived and breathed.
"Well, my parents were both country music singers and performers on a local level," Wright says. "And so that’s really where it started with my mom and dad, and I used to watch them get dressed up and go off to play their country shows be it a wedding, a dance or a Legion hall or something like that. So that’s where it all started."
It is a classic origin story, but with a Canadian twist. The Legion hall circuit is the true proving ground for any artist in this country. It is where you learn to handle a rowdy crowd and a broken microphone. That foundation served her well when she eventually made the pilgrimage to Nashville.
Nashville is no longer the sleepy songwriter’s town it once was. It is a sprawling, expensive beast. For a Canadian artist, making it there is the ultimate validation. Wright has seen the city transform into a global hub, but her appreciation for the place is surprisingly grounded in the mundane.
"Well, there’s no doubt that being the Mecca of country music is the biggest draw that anybody who’s a country artist dreams of being able to come here and be a part of this country music community here," Wright says. "I will just tell you the weather’s wonderful. You get the four seasons. The summers are pretty tough to handle sometimes, but fortunately I’m often out on the road somewhere doing a show so I don’t have to deal with all of it, although I do still have to deal with that brutal heat. But I do enjoy the weather here and the fact that you get the four seasons. And I don’t know, I mean I love that there’s lots of things I could talk about. I mean this town is just exploding, and there’s so much life and activity and you can go downtown for restaurants and shopping, and it’s quite a city."
But the pull of the 519 remains strong. You can take the girl out of Merlin, but the family ties are tethered to the 401. Wright does not just visit for the photo ops; she is back in the trenches of family life whenever the tour bus stops rolling.
"Yeah. I actually just got home here a couple of days ago. I was up to visiting the family, so I get there as much as I can, you know," Wright says. "It’s sort of like being on the road and then leaving to go on the road to go visit again. So I try to. My family was down here in August and then I went up to see them. And so we try to break up the, who’s going to be where for visiting so that I can be at home as well. But I do make an effort absolutely to get up to my home and area and visit."
Thirty-eight years is a long time to spend in the back of a bus or under the glare of a spotlight. The industry has a way of hardening people, turning them into caricatures of their former selves. But Wright seems to have avoided the typical jadedness that plagues veterans of the Nashville machine.
"Of course I’m a different woman today than I was when I started, much wiser of course," Wright says. "And the years, if you use them well, will teach you a lot, and hopefully create a well rounded life, but who I am as a human being or that girl. I think I’m still the same person in a lot of ways. I don’t know. It shouldn’t change you that much. I mean it should certainly make you wiser and make you all the good things. But people often say to me, 'You’re still the same girl we went to school with,' because I just am."
I would not have survived in this business without him because he, when there’s lean mean years, he’s there for me and just emotionally and financially and spiritually... He’s my love. He’s my friend. He’s my partner. We were very lucky again to have found each other.
That stability was tested recently. The loss of her longtime manager, Brian Ferriman, and his wife, Sue, was a heavy blow. In an industry built on fleeting relationships, Wright and the Ferrimans were an anomaly. Their bond was more than a contract; it was a life lived in tandem. Sue’s battle with ALS and Brian’s struggle with Lewy body dementia put Wright in a position few artists ever face: being the primary caregiver and power of attorney for the people who built her career.
"Yeah. Boy that was a tough one," Wright says. "You know his wife who sort of did the business side of things, the accounting and so on and so forth. She passed away in 2014 from ALS after 11 years of battling that horrible disease. And then a couple of years down the road, Brian is dealing with Lewy body dementia, which is just any type of situation like that is not good. And that watching him, you know, I took over power of attorney and just took care of him until the end. It was just terrible. So, the good news for me is that I’ve been very, very lucky that I have a new manager. His name is Chuck Thompson, and Chuck and I have actually been working together for about four years now."
Transitioning to new management after decades is a risk that can sink a legacy act. But Wright found a veteran in Chuck Thompson, a man who understands the old-school mechanics of the business. He brings a pedigree that matches Wright’s own history.
"Brian had gone into retirement previous to learning that he had Lewy body dementia," Wright says. "And so I’d already started rebuilding my career again with my new management team. And I’m so very, very fortunate to have run into them. I mean I hear artists say this all the time, it’s so hard to find good management, I’m very, very fortunate to have to have Chuck Thompson as my manager now. I don’t know if I’m being redundant because I’ve been doing a bit of interviews, but Chuck used to manage, was a part of the management team for the Judds and then for Wynonna and David Allan Coe and worked at RCA. He has layers of experience in this business, not unlike what Brian had. And so we really we go about this business. We sort of had a similar point of view, as did Brian and I. And so, I mean I’m in good hands and so certainly losing Brian and him retiring and all of that stuff affected things maybe a little bit, but ultimately I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to sort of just move forward rather smoothly."
Behind the business and the grief is Marco, her husband of 17 years. In the country music world, where divorce rates often mirror the heartbreak in the lyrics, their longevity is a rarity. He is the anchor that keeps her from drifting when the industry gets cold.
"I would not have survived in this business without him because he, when there’s lean mean years, he’s there for me and just emotionally and financially and spiritually," Wright says. "Really he is, I mean he just left for the road himself this morning. So I always miss him a little bit. It takes a day or two to adjust when one of us is leaving for the road. He’s a wonderful soul. He’s my love. He’s my friend. He’s my partner. He really is, I did good. He did good too. We did it. We did good. We were very lucky again to have found each other."
There comes a time in every major artist's life when the label "performer" is traded for "legend." It happened for Wright recently during the CCMA legends concerts. It is a title that implies you are finished, but for Wright, it feels more like a promotion.
"Well, that’s always a little awkward or a little like wow, or a little like initially that was a bit strange for me," Wright says. "But I embrace it now and consider it quite an honor to have that the fans and that this business and have kept me around long enough and supported me all these years that they view me that way now, you know? And so I really, I would say, I’m going to say that it might’ve been about two years ago when I finally just went, you know, that’s where it is now. And that’s what it is now. And that’s a beautiful thing. And so I embrace that now and feel honored to be that."
The relentless pace of the 1990s—the radio tours, the back-to-back albums, the constant pressure to stay at the top of the charts—has faded. What remains is a woman who can finally breathe. She is doing things on her own terms now, and the result is a more balanced, albeit slower, career trajectory.
"Well, there’s no doubt that it was pretty relentless for a lot of years, and that’s kind of how it needs to be done," Wright says. "And you know what? I mean the bottom line is that there comes a point when demand is less. And just even, I have no desire to be out on the road like I used to be. There’s no doubt that things will slow down. The demand will slow down. The pressure to be cranking out music slows down, and that’s necessary and good and positive because now I have a nice balance in my life, and I like it."
That balance led her to Bob Funk. Working with a close friend is usually a recipe for disaster in the studio, but for Wright, it was the only way to get back to the music. Last year, she released "Love in This Day" and "Attitude Is Everything," her first new material in five years.
"Well, it was definitely time," Wright says. "And you know, Bob Funk is my producer now. His name is Bob Funk. F-U-N-K, that’s correct. I love that name. And so he’s a friend of mine, and I was looking for a producer and he’s a great producer, but he’s like one of my dear friends and he’s also the husband of my best friend. And so I didn’t really want us to go to work together because you don’t want to mix those two things and risk our friendship. And he kind of looked at me and went, 'Are you kidding me?' And I was like, 'Yeah, because what happens if this and that,' and he was like, 'I think it’s time for you and I to get in the studio together.' He’s been asking me for about 10 years. And so I felt like I had the person I wanted to go into the studio with."
The industry has moved away from the traditional album cycle, a shift Wright has embraced. She is taking the Sheryl Crow approach: release the songs when they are ready, and don't worry about the filler.
"And then I had 'Love in This Day' is this song that I’ve had for 15 years, and I’ve wanted to record it," Wright says. "And I just knew that he was the right person to do it with. I was writing and people pitch you songs. You know when you’re getting into the studio to record, people will pitch you their tunes. And a good, a dear, a longtime friend came to the table with 'Attitude is Everything.' And he actually wrote 'Love in This Day' as well, coincidentally. And I just said, 'Oh, I love that. I love both those songs. So let’s go on in.' And I think that’s probably, I mean I just read an article with Sheryl Crow as well, and she was just saying the need to record full albums is just not the way people listen to music anymore."
"Love in This Day" carries a spiritual weight that feels like a natural progression for Wright. It isn't preachy, but it is deeply felt. It is the sound of a woman who has found a quiet centre amidst the chaos of the road.
"Do you know what? I’ve always had a tinge of spirituality in my music, a faith," Wright says. "It’s always been there, and I always, I feel I’m moved by music like that. So, it’s always been a part of my music, and it’s always been a part of my life just sitting quietly and in prayer. And so it’s a part of my life. It’s a part of who I am and always been a part of my music and certainly 'Love in This Day' is definitely all wrapped up in just faith. I’m not really any type of denomination or any type of anything in particular, but I know for me that I feel the spirit, so to speak."
This brings us to the Christmas tour. Wright took an eight-year hiatus from the holiday circuit. It was a period defined by the personal loss and the shifting management we discussed. But the return to the stage for a holiday show is a major undertaking, one that Wright initially questioned.
"I hesitated to do a Christmas show," Wright says. "I actually haven’t done it for eight years, which is unbelievable to me that during all that time with Brian and Sue and so on and so forth, things slowed down a little bit. I needed to shift my focus a bit and be there for them and their long story. But we stopped doing the Christmas tour because it’s such an undertaking, but I had done it for eight years as well. And I also thought if anything we’ll give a break on, it’ll be that for now. But I have to tell you. So I hesitated to do the Christmas tour, so I thought, well that’s pretty laid back, lolly, lolly, lolly all night long. And I’m not sure if my hyperactive self can handle that."
But the "hyperactive self" is exactly what makes Wright a compelling live act. Even in a Christmas sweater, she has more energy than most artists half her age. The hiatus is over, and the 519 is better for it.
"And it’s just one of the greatest things I’ve ever done," Wright says, "and I can’t wait to roll it back out on stage this year after all this break.
