Last time we looked, Nikki Webster wasn’t responsible for the war in Iraq, or the hike in petrol prices. In fact, there is no evidence she has ever wronged a soul. Most agree she is blessed with talent, spirit and ambition. So why are people saying such terrible things about her? Why did Rove McManus and Eddie McGuire feel it necessary to make jokes about her virginity on national TV? Why does a gossip columnist she’s never met defend her frequent attacks on the teenager because “there’s something about her that’s irritating”? And why would The Sydney Morning Herald say last month, when reporting on possible new girlfriends for James Packer: “Around the dining tables of Sydney’s harbour front mansions all sorts of names have been suggested as potential Parker mates, ranging from the sublime (Nicole Kidman) to the ridiculous (Nikki Webster)”? Want to take a shot at Webster? Get in line, folks.
Her star turn at the Sydney Olympic Games Opening Ceremony, when she soared and sang 30m above Stadium Australia, made Webster, at 13, a household name. But Hero Girl has never flown quite so high again. She finds herself today without a record label, striving for an image and music that will propel her to new phases of her career.
It’s not that she lacks fans. Last year, when Dancing with the Stars judge Todd McKenney eliminated her by awarding her 1 out of 10 for her attempt at the tango, the Seven Network switchboard, says Webster, “went into meltdown. People were so angry. And it wasn’t just devotees. [Fellow contestant, actor and towering ex-rugby league champ] Ian Roberts went ballistic at Todd. He looked like he was going to punch him.”
Pundits are divided over the causes of her stuttering trajectory since the heady days of late 2000: overexposure, a saccharine image, fans’ changing tastes, poor advice and songs. Yet one factor they all agree has helped bring her down is the virulent derision she has copped from sections of the public and the media.
Since the Olympics, when she was the most famous – and beloved – girl in Australia, Webster has displayed as great a talent for dividing opinion as for putting on a show. She inspires admiration and animosity way out of proportion to what she does – which, simply, is sing and dance well. She’s not Judy Garland; neither is she the antichrist. Yet for every person who fell in love with her that magic Sydney night and went on to buy her records, saw her play Dorothy in The Wizard Of Oz, wore her fashions and make-up and even stuck her raunchy – and widely criticized – FHM cover on their wall, there seems to be another who assails her. And because many of her critics babble on the radio or pen gossip for newspapers and magazines, the accumulated attacks have left her with little or no street cred.
To echo Kamahl, another who elicits strong pro and anti passions: “Why are people so unkind?”
In Australia, it’s always open season on tall poppies, and Webster is not the first successful entertainer to be abused by fickle fans and a media that scrambles to gang up like playground bullies on soft targets. As well as Kamahl, Kylie Minogue and Peter Allen, who were pilloried before they became stars overseas, those ridiculed include Tina Arena, Casey Donovan, Guy Sebastian, Delta Goodrem, Russell Crowe (when he sings) and Heath Ledger, who was drenched by the paparazzi last year and trashed in the gossip columns when they decided he’d risen above his station – but none as vitriotically as Nikki Webster.
Although Australia prides itself on being a meritocracy, it seems we’re less comfortable with the concept than we profess. “There are plenty of examples of tall poppy syndrome in Australia,” says Melbourne-based organisational and clinical psychologist, Dr Peter Cotton, who has observed the public knocking of not just performers but also politicians and business people. (Somehow sports stars miss out: witness Lleyton Hewitt and the Australian cricket team, who get away with things mere mortals cannot.) Says Cotton: “Often it befalls entertainers who people see as having been prematurely elevated to fame, without having worked for it. When they’re perceived as being rich and famous without deserving it, people attack them.”
Cotton believes the envy born of lack on confidence, inadequacy and of thwarted ambition also fuel the tall poppy loppers. “People consider their own situation, and when they find someone who has surpassed them, who is doing what they feel they should be doing, they sharpen the axe, saying: ‘They couldn’t have done that without the help or money that I don’t have, or without being more underhanded or ruthless than I’d ever be.'” Cotton wonders if the sneering attitude is “because we’re younger culturally, have a bit of a chip on our shoulder, and if the ability of other countries to embrace and venerate their successful people is because they’re more mature.”
People such as Minogue can clamber back onto the pedestal they were toppled from. Adds Cotton. “Last year, model Michelle Leslie was pilloried when she was busted for having ecstasy. Perhaps she was too beautiful and showed insufficient remorse. Today, just a short time later, her career is back in full swing. And I saw Kamahl at Big Day Out and nowadays he’s a beloved cultural icon. In both cases, they ignored the barbs and got down to work.”
This morning, at a café in Sydney’s inner west, the tiny 19-year-old with porcelain features and a tangle of golden hair smiles sunnily as she chatters on about her latest adventure. A less likely object of animosity than Nikki Webster seems unimaginable. “Over the past year I’ve travelled the world, working with musicians and songwriters. In LA and Nashville, I met some amazing people who’ve worked with Reba McIntyre and Keith Urban, and we explored different sounds. I’ve formed friendships with the songwriters.”
Sure, a few remembered her as Hero Girl, “but for most I was just a fresh new kid from Australia. They really grasp Australians there and appreciate the way we represent our country. They loved Olivia [Newton-John] in Nashville. I enjoy country music, and the stories it tells. People say I have a pop-country voice and maybe that’s where my career is headed. I’m trying to get a whole group of influences together and find a unique sound.”
Now in the café she is recognised by a group of teenagers who take a table close by, trying to appear nonchalant while straining to catch Webster’s every word. Soon other tables around us have filled.
Typically, she turns not having a record label into a positive. “Not being tied to a label gives me the freedom to do what I want and not be dictated to,” she explains. “That’s exactly where I want to be at this stage of my life … exploring different sounds and gaining an appreciation of music.”
Webster has a Dorothy-like ability to see the best in everyone and everything. She lists what makes her happy: her boyfriend, dancer Sasha Farber; her dogs, Star and Princess; her budgie, Cheeky; music (her own and that of Robbie Williams, Outkast and Black Eyed Peas); her family, mother Tina, father Mark and older brother Scott.
“Yes, I sill live with Mum and Dad. One day I’ll get a place of my own but I won’t be moving out for a while yet. I’m a people person and I love family chaos.”
She knows all the tales about child stars like River Phoenix, Judy Garland and Gary Coleman who crashed and burned, “but I’m not a victim and I don’t think I ever will be. I’m not in rehab; I don’t drink or do drugs. I’ve never felt the need to escape from life. I’m happy with me as I am.”
Only when the names come up of some of those who’ve made a vocation of laying into her – McKenney, TV host Rove McManus and the journalists at Sydney Confidential, the Sydney Daily Telegraph‘s gossip page – does she exhibit steeliness. “Oh, them….” She says. “What’s their problem? I can only suppose they’re trying to be controversial. Maybe Rove knocks me because he’s a comedian and he’s just trying to be funny.”
Some at the ARIA Awards presentation in 2002 saw little amusing in the jibes of McManus, who hosted the ceremony. One guest, who shared a table with Webster, dressed to the nines and excited to be there, saw her wince and shrivel when McManus lobbed verbal hand-grenades at her from the stage. “There’s Nikki Webster … surprised to see her here. Shouldn’t you be at home with your colouring pencils, Nikki?” was among the kinder digs. Webster’s eyes glistened with tears, her big night out ruined, her self-esteem shredded. Later, recalls the guest, McManus approached her, gave her an avuncular pat and said, “You were okay with all that, weren’t you Nikki?” before, without waiting for an answer, schmoozing on.
McManus was at it again at the 2005 Logies when he force-fed Eddie McGuire the line, “Todd McKenney gave Nikki Webster one.” McGuire responded, on cue, “Apparently it was a first for both of them.”
Such experiences have only toughened the once vulnerable kid. “The backlash seemed to begin a few months after the Olympics,” Webster says. “I went suddenly from being Hero Girl to someone everyone poked fun at. For someone who’d been so proud to represent her country, that was hard to take. It wasn’t very nice. It can damage anybody of any age, let alone a 13-year-old. Luckily, I had the support of my family and friends like Kylie and Bert and Patti Newton to help me get through it. I judge my success by what supporters who’ve been with me through thick and thin think, not the media. I just try my hardest not to let criticism upset me.
“I love Australia, but we don’t support our artists. We don’t treasure them and tell them they’re great at representing our country. The sad thing is that people overseas know what we’re like. They say, ‘How do you cope with the tall poppy syndrome?’ The public and media go for the throat of our artists, especially when that artist is successful. All entertainers do is work, like everyone else. All we want to do is our job and touch people’s lives. My dad’s an electrician and he turns on lights and people need electricity, but that doesn’t make someone smile like hearing a song can. It’s terrible when you’re on tour and you give an amazing show and the audience goes crazy and parents come up and say you’re a great role model for their kids, then just when you’re on a high, you open the paper and columnists are being cruel. I try to keep a brave face but I’m hurting inside.”
In 2003, journalist Christine Sams in Sydney’s The Sun-Herald bridled when Webster dared to cover the old Martha and the Vandellas hit Dancing in the Street: “Most adult fans will curl up in horror at the thought of … sweet, innocent … Webster bleating out a light-hearted version of the classic song (and the accompanying video clip is only slightly preferable to Chinese water torture).”
The team at Sydney Confidential regularly lambast Webster. In April 2005 they mused, “Hoping Nikki Webster would crawl back under that rock she’s been hiding under for the last five years?” then printed the rumour – unfounded, as it transpired – that she’d be a celebrity intruder on Big Brother. Two weeks later, after she graced the cover of FHM, they ran the pre-airbrushed photos from the shoot, drawing readers’ attention to the “freckles, blemishes and skin folds” that didn’t make it into the magazine. They’d also pssst’d in July last year that Webster’s boyfriend Farber had “hooked up with another partner”, then revealed that – ha ha! – she shouldn’t worry because they were only referring to his new dance partner.
Sighs Webster, “I suppose they make things up because I don’t give them any ammunition. They can’t write that I was drunk in a gutter so they make fun of my relationship with Sasha and my being on Dancing with the Stars and the FHM shoot. Some people like to write scandalous things and some people like to read them.”
“Well, Nikki is easy to pay out on. There’s something about her that’s irritating,” explains Sydney Confidential reporter Fiona Connolly, who does not know Webster personally. “She has always come across as sickly sweet and too stage-managed. She takes herself so seriously. And there’s a suspicion that she achieved fame without being especially talented, like those who go on Australian Idol and Big Brother, that she was just lucky to be plucked from dancing school for the Olympics.” As for the un-retouched FHM photos, “it was just too bad for her that they fell into our lap. It wouldn’t have mattered which star it was; we would have published them.”
As Ian Roberts showed when he took Todd McKenney to task, Webster fiercely arouses supporters’ and loved ones’ protective instincts. “I get angry when people put her down,” says her former manager, Lisa Hamilton. “If only people knew how talented Nikki is, her beautiful voice, her dancing, her bravery and inner strength … I’ve never seen anyone so dedicated and hard-working. She deserves to be one of our greatest stars, and I think she will be.”
“Nikki is definitely a tall poppy, and she has copped more than her fair share of criticism,” says her mother, Tina. “I don’t understand why. I can almost understand people ganging up on adults, but you don’t expect it to happen to a child. We in Australia seem to have a need to pull others down. On the whole, though, people are lovely to Nikki. Bert and Kylie don’t have to be kind to a child, but they are because there’s something special about Nikki. Every day people in the street are fantastic to her. When she was voted off Dancing with the Stars, Channel Seven had never received so many angry calls. She displayed such grace then. I’ve always taught both my children, ‘You take the good with the bad, and that’s how you survive’.”
As one who admits she derives strength from the support of others, Webster may be heartened by the advice of Kamahl, who developed a cast-iron hide to deflect a barrage of barbs – about his voice, his songs, his kaftan, even his many charity projects – and went on to sell a reported 20 million records and be named Australian f the Year and among the Variety Club’s Top 100 Entertainers of the Century: “Derision is hurtful, especially when it’s personal. If you try to fight back, you only stoop to their level. I overcame my hurt by working hard and focusing on any success I had, and learning not to take myself too seriously. Nikki has to do the same. Talent prevails.”
Webster was already a trouper when chosen from more than 500 hopefuls to play Hero Girl. Since age five she had learnt gymnastics, singing, dancing and acting. She’d been in commercials and played Little Cosette and Brigitta in the major stage productions of Les Miserables and The Sound of Music. She’d had roles in TV soaps and a “blink-and-you’ll-miss-me” cameo in the movie Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.
At 10, she was anointed by Michael Jackson. “He was in Australia on the HIStory tour and to attend the premiere of his movie Ghosts,” recalls Webster. “Kids were picked to attend the premiere and I sat next to Michael. He invited us all to his hotel room and we had M&M fights and he gave us jackets. Then he asked us to his concert at Sydney Football Stadium and chose me to sing Heal the World with him at the front of the stage.”
Yet even that paled in comparison with the Olympic Opening Ceremony on September 15, 2000, when Webster donned a harness to fly high and straight into the hearts of a sizeable chunk of the 110,000 crowd and 3.7 billion TV viewers. “I got the call with the Games just weeks away. There was no time to be nervous. I had to learn all the songs, and how to fly. I wasn’t terrified, not even when I was being hoisted into the sky, just excited.”
At Games end, Webster thought it was all over. It was only the beginning. At her school, McDonald Performing Arts College in North Strathfield, “there were hordes of media, beyond my and my family’s wildest dreams, all wanting to know what I was going to do in the future”. After a fierce war among major labels, she signed a record deal with Gotham Records/BMG Australia. In 2001, her single, Strawberry Kisses, shot to No 2 on the charts and her debut album Follow Your Heart to No 5. Both sold more than 70,000 copies.
Webster’s fan base, girls aged seven to 13 and their mums, couldn’t get enough of her, and her advisers made sure she obliged. Even though face powder, eye shadow, lipsticks and perfume were banned at school, the 14-year-old was named as the face of Jager cosmetics’ It’s A Girl Thing range. She did a deal with Kmart to retail her self-designed jeans, skirts and dancewear. She spruiked for numerous products. “The next Kylie Minogue” became a gay icon and Nikki lookalikes outnumbered Kylies and Pauline Hansons at Sydney’s Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras.
That, says a former senior executive at BMG who was instrumental in implementing a career strategy for Webster, is when the animosity first reared. “For a while, after the Olympics, it looked as if Webster would go from strength to strength. We sold more records with her than 99 per cent of new artists, and she worked so hard. She busted a gut, that girl. Her ambition was tremendous. But it was a case of diminishing returns from her records.
“I blame wrong decisions. The label was always at loggerheads with Nikki and her mother who, while she wasn’t her manager, had a large say in Nikki’s music, clothes and image. Knowing how difficult it is to transform from a child star into someone appealing to older people, we thought it would be sensible for Nikki to take a two-year hiatus and reappear as a young adult entertainer. Our advice wasn’t taken, and Nikki and those close to her barged on, wanting to take up every offer going – The Wizard of Oz, all those commercials, the make-up and the Kmart clothing line … all, I believe, for short-term financial gain, rather than to forge a lengthy career.”
(Tina Webster, who runs a childcare centre, denies she’s a stage mum. “Never,” she insists. “My husband and I have jobs, we’re not managers. We have always encouraged Nikki to make her own decisions. We give both our kids love and support and that’s it.”)
The executive believes that a portion of Webster’s audience “smelled desperation in the overexposure. If you chop and change and are always doing something new, you taint the goods, offering the fans so many media messages they can regard you as a joke.”
Webster landed the plum role – no one else stood a chance – of Dorothy in a production of The Wizard of Oz, being billed over co-stars Bert Newton, Pamela Rabe and Doug Parkinson. Inevitably criticized for daring to walk in the little red shoes of Judy Garland, she says, “I was never going to be another Judy and I brought my own things to the role.” The 18-month national tour she says, “was fun but hard work. I had to get permission from DOCS. I was doing eight shows a week, but kids are only supposed to do four. I told DOCS no one was twisting my arm.”
In October 2002 Webster, who works for kids’ charities Camp Quality, the Spastic Centre and the Butterfly Foundation, sang Over the Rainbow at a memorial show for victims of the Bali bombings in Sydney’s Domain. “It was one of the most emotional days of my life as I had lost a very close family friend, Robyn Webster, and her daughter Kristie, my friend, survived,” she says. “I didn’t even know if I could hold it together for my song. But Kristie, who suffered severe burns, was at the front of the stage. So I did it for her. I blocked everything out and sang straight to her. I used her strength and courage to get me through the song.”
That same month she released her second album, Bliss, which hit No 16. After the tall poppy backlash and anti-Webster feeling at cooler-than-cool radio stations, the album’s single, 24/7 (Crazy ’bout Your Smile) received no airplay, but still made No 19. Webster said, “When you get bad publicity, you have to fight strong.”
She did so by performing the album at shopping centre and club gigs around the country. Her young fans danced at the front of the stage, their parents bought merchandise at the rear. After the show Webster, smile never faltering, signed every item purchased. “She did things no other young performer would be prepared to do. We were worried that she was working too hard and not eating enough,” says Ed St John, chief of BMG at the time, now with Warner Music.
On the 24/7 single cover, she was pictured with three obviously interested boys – a sign that she was out to portray a more grown-up version of herself – and wore a self-designed tummy-revealing red latex dress, which also drew flak. “It couldn’t have been easy being a star with such a young image, and nor was it easy for us at BMG,” says St John. “The challenge we faced was that, as a pop star, you’re selling sex. That’s a troubling concept when the star is 14, and competing for the record-buying dollar against acts four years older who can be more sexual in their presentation.”
Of dealing with the backlash, Webster says, “Kylie was a good example for me. I just toughed it out, no matter what anyone said. I would be as strong as she was. I would overcome the criticism and go on to have No 1s all over the world.” That didn’t quite happen. Sales of her albums, Let’s Dance and The Best of Nikki Webster (both 2004), were healthy, but sold fewer copies than their predecessors. Critics griped the music hadn’t progressed and, anyway, what was a 17-year-old doing releasing a greatest hits package? Media released that had Nikki emerging “triumphant once again” and enjoying “enduring superstar status” elicited snickers in some quarters.
Just before Christmas 2004, after four albums and eight singles, she parted company with BMG, which had merged with Sony. The papers gloated she’d been dumped. “That’s just so not true. I’d completed the four albums and it was time to move on. I wanted to take time to discover myself and find a sound.”
Webster reacted to her new-found freedom in March 2005 by signing on for Dancing with the Stars, where she met her first boyfriend, 22-year-old dancer Sasha Farber. They bonded as he put her through a gruelling regime. “I learnt ballroom dancing from scratch, and still have the bruises to prove it. Sasha made me learn the dances each week and their history as well.”
Her stint ended in tears – literally – when she was ousted by McKenney. “If I’d have scored a two, I’d have survived,” she says.”No one had ever been given a 1! The other judges awarded me 6 and 7. The controversy worked for Todd. Now he’s famous for dumping Nikki Webster.” While some viewers relished Nikki’s humiliation, others angrily called the station and wrote letters saying they’d never watch the show again. “Just because she’s Nikki,” railed one, “she doesn’t deserve all this crap, so back off!”
Instead of sulking away to lick her wounds, Webster bounced back by posing in a skimpy outfit for FHM. “I thought, ‘Well, it’s time to branch out. I’m ready for this. What better way to celebrate my 18th birthday?’ When people heard, they thought, ‘Oh my God! What’s she doing?’ Some were outraged. Then they saw the photos in the magazine and said, ‘Hey, that’s nice! Little Nikki really is growing up. Maybe we should just let her.'” She then marked her 19th birthday with another defiant shoot in Zoo magazine.
According to a prominent record company owner, Webster has recorded ordinary material, was over-exposed, and her attempts at reinvention have been ill-advised. “There were some bad judgement calls made,” he says. “I also think she was too saccharine, and the little girls who were her fan base got sick of it, grew up and moved on. They’re 14 now and into the Veronicas. For a while you couldn’t escape her … on TV, billboards, on the radio, in department stores, always so sweet. A little ice cream is lovely, but a whole tub of it will make you sick.
“Maybe country music is the right choice for Nikki … and, like Tina Arena, who’s now a huge star in France, she may have to move overseas and start again. I’d be telling her, ‘The past is the past; let’s get on with the future’.” The potents for Webster are good, he says, so long as she makes the right moves. “And that doesn’t mean posing for FHM … of course people were going to take the piss. Never underestimate the tall poppy syndrome and some people’s need to punish someone for being successful.”
Dennis Handlin, CEO of Sony BMG, presides over a stable including Delta Goodrem and Human Nature. “Nikki has what it takes to be a major star for years to come,” he says. “Artists need to have that ‘something’ – charisma, or a particular fashion positioning. But it will always need great songs, great performances, an excellent creative partnership with their record company and a manager that protects the artist from overexposure and is not just a yes man.”
And, once you’ve found fame, there’s never a guarantee it will last. “Fans are not blindly loyal,” says Handlin. “A great artist singing an ordinary song or self-indulgent song is likely to appeal to only a very small section of their potential audience, and this will take the artist from stardom to darkness. The artist has to stay relevant to their audience and over time grow their audience to pick up new generations of music fans.”
Webster insists she has no regrets. “I may never have done some things that kids not in the public eye can do, but I’ll always have the Olympics, my albums, my international travel. I’ve met all kinds of special people and there’s not one I haven’t learnt from. My dream is to entertain for years to come. Life is a scary thing and it’s impossible to predict what will happen, but I just know that if I keep working hard, something will come of it.”
Central to her master plan for kick-starting stardom is songwriting. She was always content to let other write for her but now is keen to pick up a pen. “I have professional songwriters from America and Europe who write for Britney Spears all wanting to write for me. I can’t do any better than them, but I need a new creative outlet. Oh, my gosh, I have so much to say. For a 19-year-old I’ve had a lot of experiences.”
Source: The Weekend Australian Magazine
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