Orchestral manoeuvres
She used boxing as a way of coping with the tragic loss of her mother. Now, Hannah Rankin is balancing her career as a bassoonist with a shot at the world title
I suppose I am a bit of the black sheep of the family
THE hills above Loch Lomond have been left behind, the concert halls of London and beyond have been abandoned for the moment. All that consumes Hannah Rankin, bassoonist and boxer, is a ring in Mulvane, Kansas.
There, next Saturday night, the 28-year-old daughter of Luss sheep farmers will fight to become the first Scottish woman world champion in boxing.
Her task is formidable. She faces Claressa Shields, a double gold medallist at the Olympics for her IBF, WBA and WBC middleweight titles. Rankin’s resumé is more exotic. She is the contender who has studied at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland and the Royal Academy of Music in London. She is the challenger who balances playing for quintets and orchestras while forging a career in the ring. She is a daughter who gives thanks to her late mother and to the sport that helped her navigate grief.
‘When I got into boxing my mum got diagnosed with cancer and it was a very rapid decline. It was only six months before she passed,’ says Rankin. ‘Boxing was a way to shut off, spend time clearing my head. It helped me get through the grieving process. It means a lot to me just for that.’
She turned professional two years ago, acquiring a 5-2 record. One loss was ‘a robbery’, the other was in a world title fight. Rankin has come a long way from that sheep farm above Luss. The details of the journey are almost fanciful.
‘All my summers were spent on the farm,’ she says. ‘Lots of shearing, never went on holidays until we were about ten. My early years were all about being on the hills, in the middle of nowhere.’
Her mother, Clare, was musical. ‘My mum really encouraged all three of us with music,’ says Rankin, who has two sisters. ‘She played the piano, cello and French horn. I played the piano first then onto the flute then I got offered a chance to play the bassoon at school.’ Formal musical education followed but how did the boxing creep in?
‘I suppose I am a bit of the black sheep of the family,’ she says with an apologetic giggle at the hill farming joke. ‘I had an affinity with combat sport as a kid. I took up taekwondo and I liked the discipline. It is similar to the discipline in music.’
There are those who marvel at the apparent disparity in her two jobs but Rankin points out the similarities. Both are performances, both are adrenaline-fuelled and both push the practitioners to the limit.
‘It’s about keeping things under control. Both are performed under lights and it’s all about being in the moment. I love both jobs,’ she says.
She speaks softly but powerfully of the lure of ring and orchestra. ‘By the time you hit fight night you’ve worked incredibly hard. Next Saturday I will be stronger than I’ve ever been, fitter than I’ve been. After all those hard hours in training you can enjoy the moment. There’s a stress, of course, of being in a fight but also the freedom to perform. It is an adrenaline rush. It’s winner takes all.’
Of playing in an orchestra, she says: ‘It’s wonderful when the whole entity achieves an amazing performance. It’s like everyone’s on point, everyone playing their part, the speed is just right… it is the same feeling as starting to outpoint your opponent.’ It’s as if ring and concert hall are simply two stages requiring the one act.
Rankin is a musician for hire in London. She teaches and also is on the freelance market. ‘It’s simple,’ she says. ‘If an orchestra needs a bassoonist, the agency calls me up.’
The boxing is slightly more complicated. Rankin started as a means to improve her fitness. ‘I don’t like the gym. I find it boring. I have to do classes or something to keep me interested. So boxing was perfect. It is obviously great for fitness but there is a mental side, too, that I like.’
The decision to go professional under Sam Kynoch was a gamble, taken after just two years of fighting. It takes a financial investment to be a woman pro boxer. ‘Yes, there’s glitz and glamour in pro boxing. But to get anywhere in boxing you have to spend money,’ she says. ‘You may have to pay for your opponent to fly in and pay meals for them and their entourage. You can pay £1,000 just to fight on the card.
‘Then there are the training camps, etc... you need sponsors. It’s hard work and personal money. You are paying for the glory.’
The fight at the Kansas Star Arena and Casino next week is thus a gamble. It is a classy card, with heavyweight Jarrell Miller hoping to continue his rise and three-time world champion Ricky Burns on the bill. Rankin, though, has her hands full with Shields, a contender for best pound-for-pound woman boxer. A highly gifted amateur, the American has swept all before her in the pro ranks.
Rankin, who was beaten by Alicia Napoleon in a super middleweight world title fight the last time she was in the USA, is confident this trip across the pond can be more successful. She is also stepping up a weight division.
‘We have worked on my strength. I feel a real middleweight,’ she says. ‘Yes, it will be a big challenge.
‘She comes with a big record: two-time Olympic champion, two-weight world champion, three belts. It’s about what happens when you get in the ring and on the night it will be just me and her. I will be nervous on the ring walk but I won’t be when the bell rings.’
She points out that she is used to giving a performance, being
prepared, being alert with bassoon or glove in hand. ‘It will be one helluva fight,’ she says.
But what of the particular risks to her in the ring? Surely, she must be concerned about damage to her hands or her mouth? ‘Not really,’ she says. ‘My trainer is a musician too so he knows how to wrap my hands up well.’
Her father, Andrew, will be at ringside but Rankin will feel the presence too of her mother. ‘She was a maverick, independent,’ she says. ‘She was fully supportive of all my decisions.’
The lessons of the ring can be the toughest but there is a suspicion that Rankin was well prepared on that farm above Loch Lomond.
‘We were taught to make our choices and commit to them,’ she says. ‘If it was something we wanted to do, then we were backed fully. But we were expected to put in the effort. It was a case of if you are going to do something, then do it to the best of your ability,’ she says.
This philosophy has taken her to the top of the world stage in women’s boxing. Next Saturday could be a defining moment. ‘Yes, it could all change after that,’ she says. There is more than a hint that the project might begin to be financially viable. But Rankin is in it for more than the money.
‘I love what I do,’ she says. ‘I love the idea of being under the lights in a ring. I believe my mother is looking down on me, willing me to do well.
‘And I am pushing for that. I want to be world champion.’
Is Kansas about to witness a Caledonian triumphal march? The odds may be against it.
But, then again, who would ever have backed a bassoonist to make beautiful music in the most unforgiving of arenas?
Rankin has on five occasions. She might just be primed for an encore.
My trainer is a musician so can wrap my hands up well