Great Classics 2 – Symphony & Song

Great Classics 2 Symphony and Song Adelaide Symphony Orchestra 2015Adelaide Symphony Orchestra. Festival Theatre. 27 Jun 2015

 

A world-class live performance of Strauss’ Four Last Songs (Vier letzte Lieder) has been on my bucket list for a long time, and every opportunity to hear them has been thwarted until last weekend when it was my very real pleasure to hear internationally acclaimed soprano Christine Brewer deliver her ninety-eighth performance of what is surely one of the pinnacle compositions of the twentieth century.

 

The Four last Songs take no prisoner. It takes a mature and robust voice to handle them, yet one that can also rise gracefully like a floating feather on a gentle zephyr. They demand a voice that can soar above a full-strength orchestra that has all but given itself over to glorious melodic lines that transport the player and listener alike. Christine Brewer was at one with all of that, although guest maestro Christoph Koenig was a little too generous on the forte side of the ledger, especially during the first two songs. In the third and fourth songs, and especially in Im Abendrot, Brewer’s expansive and mellifluous voice seemed to rise effortlessly out of nothing and fill the Festival theatre with transcendent melancholy and almost self-forgetfulness. The audience was transported.

 

And as if Vier letzte Lieder wasn’t enough to make one almost infinitely content, Mahler’s mighty Symphony No.1 ‘Titan’ followed in what was a tour de force performance. Koenig’s reading of Mozart’s Overture to Don Giovanni at the start of the evening was pedestrian, but his Mahler was anything but. Koenig’s pace was moderate. The programme notes indicated he would bring it home in around fifty-three minutes, which he did. Any slower and the contrasting savage mood shifts in the second movement would have been labored and awkward, and any faster and the evocative funereal third movement would have fallen in on itself as it was swamped by the attack of the final movement.

 

I love Mahler above all other symphonists, and I have far too many recordings of all his symphonies. I love to compare different interpretations, and I found much to appreciate in Koenig’s reading: clarity, appropriate tempo, passion, and thoughtful emphasis on principal instruments at key times. And how refreshing for the double basses to be acknowledged first in the bows!

 

Bravo.

 

Kym Clayton

 

When: 27 Jun

Where: Festival Theatre

Bookings: Closed

Mavericks

Adelaide Wind Orchestra MavericksAdelaide Wind Orchestra. Concordia College Chapel. 8 May 2015

 

The Adelaide Wind Orchestra (AWO) is a gem, and its repertoire is as imaginative as it is technically demanding.  Tonight’s concert featured composers who are known for bending the musical rules to breaking point but not to the extent of sacrificing melody and interest. 

 

Charles Ives’ Country Band March is at times raucous and strident and has all the hallmarks of a rollicking street band struggling with complex tonalities.  It was perhaps played too loudly for the acoustic of the performance space, but it ultimately rewards with the soothing tranquility of an oboe line that was played beautifully.

 

Copeland’s El Salon Mexico is, apparently, influenced by the idiom of Mexican folk song but it retains the distinctive sound of Copeland and what we often think of as ‘American’ music.  It features the customary harmonisation found in much folk music tradition as well as pitch sliding and call-and-response motives.  The saxophone was especially pleasing.  Percy Grainger was also famous for his documentation of folk songs, and Hill Song II has an Irish drone quality to it that demands utmost concentration and imagination from the ensemble to give it flight.  The AWO gave the piece a sense of freshness.

 

H Owen Reed’s La Fiesta Mexicana is quite a remarkable and innovative composition.  It takes the call-and-response device to a new level by featuring a smaller off-stage ensemble to respond to the ‘calls’ from rest of the orchestra on the main stage.  The contrabassoon and bass-clarinet lines were superb, and the chimes and horn sections were bold, arresting and heroic.

 

Hindemith is an acquired taste and I’m afraid it often passes me by.  (As a musically impressionable teenager I was bruised by a booming performance of his Sonata for Trombone and Piano.)  However, his Geschwindmarsch provided the AWO with the perfect opportunity to demonstrate how the sound of diverse wind instruments can fit hand in glove when played by accomplished players and under the direction of a conductor (Peter Handsworth) who lives and breathes wind instruments.

 

The evening rounded out with an Australian première of Alan Hovhaness’ Symphony No. 4 which included harp and impressive display of extensive percussion (including vibraphone). 

AWO concerts are a revelation:  violins and other string instruments are not necessary to produce a full symphonic ‘feel’; its fun to see and hear an ensemble tune up to the tuba; a whole new repertoire becomes accessible; and it is enormously comforting to see an ensemble comprising almost entirely of talented musicians who are on the right side of thirty!

 

Kym Clayton

 

When: Closed

Where: Concordia College Chapel

Bookings: Closed

First and Last

First and Last Adelaide Symphony Orchestra 2015Adelaide Symphony Orchestra. Master Series 3. Adelaide Town Hall. 1 May 2015

 

We human beings like structure in our lives, including our music, but we also like to strike out and throw the rules way. First and Last, the third concert in the Master Series by our own world class Adelaide Symphony Orchestra, served up a satisfying sandwich of rule breaking and invention wrapped between two slices of comforting orderliness.

 

The rule breaking and invention was provided by contemporary Scottish composer James MacMillan’s remarkable Viola Concerto. Co-commissioned by the ASO, this was the Australian premiere of what is a remarkable composition. It’s not a concerto in the traditional sense. Yes it does have three movements, but that’s about where its connection with the ‘traditional form’ ends. There is no clear use of the usual theme/ development/ variation/ recapitulation approaches that we have all grown fond of – the very things that allows us to ‘understand’ a piece of music. What we have instead is “pure music” – three separate pieces that are inward looking and self-sufficient. The programme notes ask the audience to ponder how successfully MacMillan has added to the concerto genre and also to the viola repertoire. My response is that I don’t particularly care about the first question, but the viola canon has been well served, and at the hands of viola genius, Lawrence Power the result was spectacular.

 

Each movement of the ‘concerto’ is its own universe. The first has at times a bluesy de-tuned Gershwin feel to it. The second is often mournful and has long languid melody lines that evolve into a fluidity and energy that is reminiscent of John Adams single movement violin ‘concerto’ The Dharma at Big Sur. The third features an exciting musical duel between the soloist and the orchestra’s principal violas and cellos, almost with a ‘dueling banjos’ dramatic feel to it! The concerto abruptly ends, but the audience was on its feet in an instant. MacMillan and guest conductor Mark Wigglesworth were brought back for no less than four bows. All richly deserved.

 

MacMillan provided an imposing presence on stage. He is a tall man and holds his instrument with strength and authority. He is active on stage, and takes in all that is around him, frequently eyeballing the conductor and members of the orchestra. The lines of communication are palpable. His technique is undeniable, even dazzling, and the viola takes on a whole new dimension for us.

 

Great programming ASO. Well commissioned!

 

The first piece of bread for the evening was Haydn’s first symphony. I’ve never heard it before and it comes in at around 11 minutes. By comparison to the viola concerto that followed it, and Dvorak’s New World symphony that finished the evening, it is almost insignificant, but it had its charm. Interestingly the first movement at times gives unusual prominence to the violas by separating them from the usual bass accompaniment. A clever piece of programming by the ASO to lead us into the viola concerto!

 

The MacMillan was not everyone’s cup of tea, but the Dvorak certainly was. It is uber melodic and the Goin’ Home melody in the Largo movement is universally known and well loved. To my ear Wigglesworth took the adagio first movement a little more slowly than is usual, and it worked a treat. It gave opportunity for precise phrasing and for the interesting rhythmic structures to come to the fore. Peter Duggan’s cor anglais solo was superb and it was quite fitting that Wigglesworth should offer up his gorgeous congratulatory flowers (from Tynte florist) to Duggan at the conclusion of the concert.

 

There is remarkable depth to the ASO, and it was again a joy to see and hear talented artists unleash the music rather than just play the notes. Hugh Kluger is a relatively recent addition to the bass section and with his comparative youth he played the Dvorak with sassiness and attitude. Invigorating to watch, as it is to watch them all.

Wonderful concert. I’m still humming the Dvorak, though for the life of me I can’t recall a melody from the MacMillan, but the sense of excitement persists!

 

Kym Clayton

 

When: Closed

Where: Adelaide Town Hall

Bookings: Closed

Lortie Plays Schumann

Lortie Plays Schumann Adelaide Symphony Orchestra Master Series 2 2015Master Series Two. Adelaide Symphony Orchestra. Adelaide Town Hall. 17 Apr 2015

 

French-Canadian pianist Louis Lortie and guest conductor Maestro Yan Pascal Tortelier demonstrated a rare sympatico to produce a richly textured and thrilling performance of Schumann’s Piano Concerto in A minor. Dressed in very smart and distinctive formal wear, Lortie assumed the stage with great anticipation and from the moment he leaned into the decisive opening chords, it was clear that his reading was going to be special; and it was. Lortie carefully applied considerable forearm weight when it was needed in the first and second movements rather than striking the keys to produce a percussive effect. The beginnings of his phrases were beautifully controlled and exquisitely in time with the orchestra. He and Tortelier frequently looked at and into each other. Their communication was intense and meaningful. Although Lortie was enthusiastically applauded by the audience at the end, much credit was also due to Tortelier.

 

If we were ever hesitant to extol Tortelier’s talent, his reading of Sibelius’ Symphony No.1 in E minor put all doubts to the sword. The Adelaide Symphony Orchestra has an affinity for Sibelius, having recorded all his symphonies in 2010 and presented a Sibelius festival back in 2007, both under Arvo Volmer. Tortelier capitalised on the deep understanding the ASO has for Sibelius but he also made it sound fresh. He allowed the rich melodies to soar – sometimes almost with overwhelming force – but did not allow them individually to assume more importance than they should. They each had their moment in the Finnish sun, but there was no room for rapaciousness!  The composition is grand in its conception and each section of the orchestra gets a work-out, but none more so than the strings. It was a pure delight to watch the principals at work, and guest concertmaster Elizabeth Layton and associate Cameron Hill combined in another superb partnership to ensure the intense and almost unbridled emotion was abundantly evident, but kept in check. Not even a broken string on Ewen Bramble’s cello could put a dent in the proceedings; congratulations to Sarah Denbigh for swapping cellos with him and for somehow managing the remainder of the performance with a hurt-but-not-out instrument!

 

The programme began with a spirited performance of the Overture to Beatrice et Benedict by Berlioz, and the evening gently faded to a satisfying conclusion with the thought provoking and almost anti-climactical final bars of the Sibelius.

 

Well done ASO. A great concert.

 

Kym Clayton

 

When: Closed

Where: Adelaide Town Hall

Bookings: Closed

The Odes of March

Augie March Her Majestys 2015

Augie March. Her Majesty’s. 26 Mar 2015

 

It is several weeks on from the Ides of March, now it’s time for the Odes of March. Augie March, that is - back from a seven year hibernation for a national tour featuring their 2014 album Havens Dumb. Led by the prodigiously talented, singer songwriter Glenn Richards, Augie March appeared on the Australian music scene in 1998 and released their first album Sunset Studies in 2000. Now fifteen years and five albums later, they are here to remind us what an embarrassment of musical riches/Richards they have to offer.

 

They are a quirky bunch. After an excellent set from the very promising Adelaide trio, Cosmo Thundercat, Richards and the band wander onstage at Her Majesty’s in search of bass player Edmondo Ammendola. There is an awkward delay until his shambling arrival and Richards, never entirely comfortable as the frontman, finally gathers the band, and the three member Arnold Horns, to open with Hobart Obit.

 

“I tried to care for you the best I could /We mapped it out and reconfigured the old neighbourhood/But time is a bastard , time is a vial of petty sands,/the body’s a basket emptying to the niggardly hands/of Aeon for his array of strung out decay…”

 

With three-part harmonies crooning around him Glenn Richards unfurls the first of his many densely laden lyrics sung in his melodic pitch perfect vocal, with gently chiming guitar from Adam Donovan, Ammendola’s deep thrumming bass and David Williams anchoring the band with his steadying drumbeat. It is a sweet pop rock sound – echoes of Crowded House and perhaps, in their keening vocals and esoteric lyrics, the hugely under-rated UK band Turin Brakes.

 

With very few exceptions Augie March songs don’t just jump into the brain pan and stay there. They are intricate, trickling threads of voice and word, chord and beat, there are hooks but they don’t have simple choruses, or the kind of repetitions that become immediately memorable.

 

Interestingly, in the Havens Dumb songs there are repetitions of line between songs- “Time is a bastard, time is a vial of petty sands ..” from Hobart Obit, reappears in Bastard Time and in the album’s splendid opening songAWOL, regrettably excluded from the Her Majesty’s setlist. A Dog Starved gets a go instead – Donovan’s guitar taking on that sweet rheumatic Gretsch sound George Harrison gave to the world. In fact there is a fetching White Album feeling to the whole song, or perhaps, given Richards’ tempus fugit preoccupations -All Things Must Pass.

 

Peering down at his setlist, printed in a pygmy font that is too hard to read, Richards, somewhat haltingly, leads into a selection from Moo You Bloody Choir, The Cold Acre, Kiernan Box’s gentle piano intro followed by the swing waltz rhythm of yet another melancholy Augie March treasure – “My heart is a cold acre, my chest is a cold acre…” Then two early compositions, The Good Gardener (On how he fell) and Here Comes The Night, both from Sunset Studies follow, the band in stride with two fine songs, reminders that this band started well and stayed that way.

 

Glenn Richards is justly proud of Havens Dumb, the album that brought the band back together. Gathered over several years they recorded 30 songs, the musicians living in different parts of the country emailing each other their overdubs as the project progressed. We get three more of the new songs –Bastard Time, Villa Adriana – inspired by Richards’ long-awaited first trip to Italy- and the pungent Definitive History.

 

I am not sure what the title, Havens Dumb, quite refers to but, in part, it is a harsh appraisal of the present state of Australian civic and public life. Definitive History is scathing- “’The same smug expression, same false cheer,/same air of predation-“Stranger welcome” .. just not here, just not here, just not here/ All men are like mice, all men are mice, it just doesn’t pay to be nice,/Take all before you/Definitive History.”

 

Unfortunately the lucid rage of the lyrics is buried under a surfeit of sound. Kieran Box unleashes a loud grating sample of a violin chord which starts to sound like an unattended car alarm, with the Arnold Horns blasting away and the rest of the band competing for attention. More’s the pity that the refrain is lost in transmission – ”O one for the mother, one for the dad/One for the treasurer, one for the plasma screen and don’t forget/ the developers dream,/ a plot to bury them all at the edge of the sprawl-/ Definitive history.”

 

The early classic There is No Such a Place reminds us that there are few Australian songwriters who can write such plangent melody. This is an amalgam of Paul Simon, Don McLean’s American Pie and Vincent, or more recently the Finn brothers , Elliott Smith and Elbow. But, as always, Augie March sound like a lot of musicians and none of them. They are unique in the best way, because they evoke so much other music that stands in the wings watching them appear – and, as their song reminds us - disappear.

 

The set concludes with the full-tilt galloping tempo of This Train Will be Taking No Passengers and, of course, an encore featuring One Crowded Hour. It is their signature hit, and yet another wistful meditation on the theme of time, and past love, featuring yet another gnomic Glenn Richards question and response -“what is this six stringed instrument but an adolescent loom ? And one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin.”

 

Concluding with the downbeat, mildly querulous Never Been Sad, Richards and his staunch, enduring band wind down the show. It has been one of fits and starts, distractedly re-tuning instruments, gazing into the audience, bemused by the lighting blackouts, mulling over Charlie Brown meaning of life questions. As an inner sigh from Glenn Richards becomes accidentally audible, he disarmingly asks- “Am I really tired, or really old?”

 

No slick patter from Augie March, no smoothly engineered show, none of the easy complacency befitting a veteran band who after seven years of self-imposed exile have returned with an album as good as any produced in this desolate period in Australian music. Instead they played fifteen or so songs of beauty and tangled feeling. It was one memorable hour and a half, ramshackle, often musically exquisite and a reminder that Augie March are a great Australian band. “Thanks very much folks”, Richards diffidently concludes, “that’s us.” And a fine thing they are too. Let’s hope, for all our sakes, that there will be a next time.

 

Murray Bramwell

 

When: Closed

Where: Her Majesty’s Theatre

Bookings: Closed

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