Adelaide Wind Orchestra. Elder Hall. 25 Nov 2023
The Adelaide Wind Orchestra is a musical gem on the Adelaide art music landscape, and they will soon be playing on the world stage at the prestigious International Conference of the World Association of Symphonic Bands and Ensembles to be held in South Korea in July 2024. In fact, the Adelaide Wind Orchestra is one of only a few ensembles world-wide to be invited to perform. Yes, the Adelaide Wind Orchestra is that good, and their recent concert – entitled Smoke and Mirrors (named after the opening piece of the concert) – demonstrated why they are held in such high regard internationally.
The program followed a standard structure to be expected from regular symphony orchestra: an overture to open followed by a concerto, and finishing with a symphony. The overture Smoke and Mirrors, by American composer Erica Muhl, is a stand-alone work (it is not an introduction to a larger work), and it is very exciting. Muhl says of her composition that it is a paraphrase of musical ideas from many of her compositions arranged in achronological order. As such, the piece comes across as being somewhat episodic and lacking a cohesive schema, but the episodes are just electric! At times it is sci-fi inflected and futuristic in the thoughts it evokes in the mind of the listener, and at other times it is inward looking and brooding. The various sections are sometimes linked by exceptionally melodic and surprising statements from flutes and chimes. When it was over, guest conductor Kate Mawson took a restrained bow, and one was free to draw breath again!
Smoke and Mirrors was followed by an astonishing performance of Jennifer Higdon’s remarkable Percussion Concerto. Originally written for a full orchestra (that is, with strings as well), the composition won the 2010 Grammy Award for Best Classical Contemporary Composition, and it’s easy to see why. In any concerto, there is an obvious dialogue between the soloist and the rest of the orchestra. In Higdon’s composition, there is a three-way dialogue between the percussion soloist, the percussion section of the orchestra, and the rest of the orchestra itself, and the result is fascinating. However, the main interest from an audience member’s perspective is watching the sheer theatricality and physicality of the percussion soloist at work. On this occasion it was Sami Butler, who is the Associate Principal Percussionist with the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra, and his performance was electrifying. (Why hasn’t the ASO itself programmed this work? Why?)
Butler had numerous instruments set up in four locations across the full width of the Elder Hall stage. Let’s face it, marimba, xylophones, drum kits etc all take up a lot of room, and Butler had to move quickly and precisely between them over the duration of the single movement work. The nature of the music is eclectic. Like Smoke and Mirrors before it, the concerto doesn’t have a structure that a listener can easily latch onto in order to try and find meaning. Very soon, the listener abandons all attempts at this and lets the myriad of musical ideas take over and transport them to an almost otherworld sonic landscape all the while marvelling at Butler’s sublime musicality. His purely solo sections – we might call them cadenzas – were totally absorbing, and the emerging smiles on the faces of the members of the orchestra were only exceed by those of the transfixed audience.
Connor Fogarty’s Symphony for Wind Orchestra stood in stark contrast to the overture and the concerto. It frequently presents musical ideas that remind the listener of other things. Fogarty, in his program notes, states that the second movement is inspired by John Adam’s iconic piece Short Ride in a Fast Machine, which indeed it does, and the final movement evokes Shostakovich. Throughout, the playing by the orchestra is first-rate: luscious sounds from the tubas and other bass instruments, mournfully beautiful phrases from the woodwinds, delicate linking motifs from the harp that provide connection and meaning, sweet clarinets, lively flutes, expectant oboes, cheerful but majestic brass, and percussion of course to thread the various elements together.
Fogarty was in the audience and graciously received appreciative applause from the audience as well as from the conductor Bryan Griffiths, who did such a splendid job bringing the entire concert together.
Yes, the Adelaide Wind Orchestra is good, and they will be featuring music by Fogarty and other Australian composers, including Anne Cawrse, David John Lang, and Holly Harrison in their performances in South Korea. They deserve the support of the South Australian art music loving public, and you can start by visiting their website.
Kym Clayton
When 25 Nov
Where: Elder Hall
Bookings: Closed
Musica Viva. Adelaide Town Hall. 15 Nov 2023
What does it mean to compose a piece of music for a specific artist? For that is what Australian Composer May Lyon has done for the exciting duo Noa Wildschut (violin) and Elisabeth Brauss (piano). Lyon’s composition, Forces of Nature, experiences its world premiere performances throughout Wildschut and Brauss’s debut tour of Australia with Musica Viva. It is a relatively short composition of around twelve minutes in duration, comprising two movements without pause that, in the composer’s own words evokes “…the summer melt of ice sheets, and an erupting volcano.” Coincidently, that is potentially what Iceland is facing at the moment! As a piece of program music, it is reasonable that one might ask whether the music does indeed evoke in the mind of the listener the events and phenomena that the composer states are the inspiration for the music. More interestingly, it is worth asking whether knowledge of the composer’s programmatic intentions enhances one’s enjoyment of the music, or whether it is almost a precondition. For this reviewer, and judging by the reactions of other audience members, it is a case of the latter. The first section of Forces of Nature comprises musical content that is ephemeral: phrases come and go with eery transience, and there is little that is easily able to be recalled. The second section is more accessible, with more robust phrases that are discordantly jaunty and perambulating, but when it’s done, little remains in the listener’s conscious mind. That aside, the excellent Musica Viva printed program notes discuss the thought processes behind the composer writing specifically for Wildschut and Brauss. It makes for interesting reading, but ultimately it is the lasting impact the music has on the listener that really matters.
This world première was sandwiched between four other works – it was a generous program and one that tested the mettle of the performers.
The concert included Schumann’s Violin Sonata No.1 in A minor, Olivier Messiaen’s Thème et variations, Debussy’s Sonata for Violin and Piano in G minor, and Enescu’s Violin Sonata No.3 in A minor.
The Schumann is a deceptively ‘uncomplex’ sonata – at least from a listener’s perspective – and it takes great care and skill to expose its delicacy and innate musicality. Wildschut and Brauss established and maintained a carefully constructed dynamic balance within and across each of the three movements, and the almost elusive ending was played to perfection, and left the listener wanting more.
By a short nose, the Messiaen was the highlight of the concert. It was played with superb phrasing and such careful attention to changing dynamics that it comes across with the sublime majesty that Messiaen surely intended. The near silence in the closing notes left the audience fearing to breathe, and again, wanting more.
The Debussy follows on perfectly from the Messiaen, and for a brief moment one could almost believe they were movements from the same composition. The almost Iberian influences in the closing section of the first movement segued neatly into the lightness of the second movement which Wildschut and Brauss exemplified. They really know how to combine to underline any delicacy in what they are playing.
The final work of the program is Enescu’s exciting sonata. Where the violin and the piano are often doubling the same notes, the opposite is mostly true in the Enescu. The two instruments take quite different paths, yet the secret is to ensure the dialogue continues, and Wildschut and Brauss communicate so well together that it almost seemed a ‘walk in the park’ for them, despite the physical demands of the piece.
Noa Wildschut and Elisabeth Brauss are a near perfect combination, and a fine example of how acute communication skills are at the heart of successful ensemble playing.
Kym Clayton
When: 15 Nov
Where: Adelaide Town Hall
Bookings: Closed
Woodville Concert Band. Woodville Town Hall. 20 Oct 2023
Community arts is alive and well in the City of Woodville, and a significant contributor to that happy status is the Woodville Concert Band. The band comprises in excess of thirty-five eager and talented musicians, one very accomplished conductor, and an enthusiastic group of front and back-of-house ushers, roadies, helpers, administrators etc. Some wear more than one hat, but all wear great pride on their sleeves about what they do, and their sense of personal satisfaction is not misplaced. They really are a fine outfit. They are not perfect (who or what is?) and they’re a self-confessed work in progress - getting better and better - but their concerts set your toes tapping, put a broad smile on your face, and leave tunes in your head for many hours afterwards.
The band’s most recent concert is entitled A Symphony of Space, and features compositions from cinema, classical repertoire, and digital games that have a connection to the theme outer space. Perhaps there is nothing more appropriate to open the concert than the iconic opening fanfare, entitled Sunrise, from Richard Strauss’s tone poem Also Sprach Zarathustra, which was popularised by Stanley Kubrick’s 1968 classic film 2001: A Space Odyssey. The piece was originally scored for a large orchestra with a full complement of brass, woodwind, percussion, organ, harps, and of course strings. It’s big, so how to do it justice with a modestly sized wind orchestra? It all comes down to the quality and inventiveness of the musical arrangement. We discover towards the end of the concert, when conductor Nathan Cummins (who has a PhD in music from the Elder Conservatorium) starts to give his thank-yous, that 2001 was in fact arranged for the band by a member of the trumpet section, and it is excellent! The clarinets, flutes and saxophones take the place of the violins, and they sound terrific. It’s a strong opening to a delightful concert, and as a sort of tension reliever, it is followed by The Blue Danube by Johann Strauss II, which was also used in Kubrick’s film. The flutes and clarinets are particularly fine with crisp articulation and marked phrasing that together give the waltz rhythm a pronounced definition, almost a little too conspicuous at times.
Continuing with music from film and science fiction, the Strauss is followed by a suite from the Star Wars films that features the immediately recognisable themes that we associate with the franchise. The oboe, saxophone, and the brass and reed bass instruments are imposing throughout the arrangement. In his introductory comments Cummins makes a thinly disguised joking remark about our war wracked world and how warring might not be uncommon in extraterrestrial civilisations (assuming they exist). The joke is lame, and members of the orchestra audibly groan to voice their lack of amusement. This easy and comfortable attitude pervades the evening. Good humoured affection for each other and for the music underlines all that the band members do, and it’s so refreshing.
And the good humour and banter continues as Cummins announces that the next piece is I am the Doctor from the Dr Who franchise. Before any member of the band can say ‘Of course you are!’ in reference to his PhD, Cummins gets in first and scolds them with a smile on his face and a laugh in his voice that the joke became tired after the umpteenth rehearsal! The piccoloist provided much of the impetus in the performance and, with the precision of the drum kit, kept the demanding time signature on track.
A temporary diversion from science fiction came in the form of Jupiter, The Bringer of Jollity from Gustav Holst’s ever popular orchestral suite The Planets. It was popularised when its main melody was appropriated for the hymn “I Vow to Thee, My Country”. The arrangement the band uses starts out with the saxophone to great effect, but the trombone and trumpets sound somewhat exposed later in the piece without violins. Cummins remarked at the end with great relief that he and the band were glad they “got through it”, and they did, and the result was pleasing to the ear.
Probably the least successful arrangement was the theme from Star Trek, which, arguably, relies on silky violins to solidly lay down the sweeping melody to allow the trumpet (played superbly!) to truly stand out. This is followed by two pieces of game music, including Halo, in which the band vocalises very tunefully, and in which the keyboard features significantly along with controlled percussion work including excellent playing from the timpanist.
The concert rounds out with a solid and dramatic performance of Mars from The Planets, and this is followed by long, deserved, and sustained applause from a very appreciative audience. Of course, it would have been bad mannered of Cummins and the band if they sent the audience away without an encore, and this came in the form of Sogno di Volare, which is the delightful musical theme from Civilisation 6, and at its end the audience took flight into the night!
If you haven’t been to a performance by the Woodville Concert band, you really should - you won’t regret it. They are a quality community ensemble who play for the community with a lot of heart! Join their mailing list!
Kym Clayton
When: 20 Oct
Where: Woodville Town Hall
Bookings: Closed
Soundstream New Music. Elder Hall. 14 Oct 2023
Considering Matthew Shepard is billed as a “…modern day Passion for choir and ensemble reaching beyond tragedy to find peace, understanding and life-affirming joy.”
Does that pique your curiosity, especially the use of the the capitalised ‘P’? For a particular music demographic, the answer is ‘yes’. For many, I suspect the answer is ‘no’, and if that assessment is correct, then it’s a great shame, because Grammy-nominated Considering Matthew Shepard is one of the most achingly beautiful modern choral works ever created. It needs to be re-billed!
Conductor Jesse Budel’s program notes state that the work draws on diverse “…musical styles, including hymns, country, rock, jazz, plainchant, gospel and ballads”, almost in equal measure. As such, it is eminently easy to listen to, and should have wide appeal. The billing perhaps should seize on this because it deserves huge audiences despite its disturbing content. Considering Matthew Shepard is no stuffy ‘highbrow’ event. Rather, it is broadly accessible, affecting, deeply satisfying, and both provocative and disquieting at the same time. The music is highly enjoyable, and varied, and the songs are transparent in their meaning. It is theatrical in its staging, and co-producers Jesse Budel and Riana Chakravarti clearly understand that what is seen on stage (and throughout the auditorium) is just as important as what is heard.
So, who is Matthew Shepard, and why should we ‘consider’ him?
Matthew Shepard was – no longer ‘is’ – an American twenty-one-year-old University of Wyoming student who was beaten by Aaron McKinney and Russell Henderson who pistol whipped him with a gun, robbed him, tied him to a fence in a lonely country field in freezing conditions, and then set fire to him before leaving him to die. He was found eighteen hours later, and died five days later in hospital without having gained consciousness. (I mention the names of Matthew’s assailants because they should be reviled forever.)
Matthew was gay, and the ensuing court case that sentenced McKinney and Henderson each to two consecutive life sentences in prison, did not hear the case as a hate crime as that didn’t exist as an indictable crime under the State of Wyoming’s criminal law at the time. The case did however prompt national action against homophobia and hate laws were passed during the Obama administration. Good things sometime emerge from evil, and Mathew’s murder has resulted in a number of positive developments from the queer community, and even foregrounded in art such as the stage play The Laramie Project (Matthew was murdered in the town Laramie), and composer Craig Hella Johnson’s oratorio Considering Matthew Shepard.
In 2013 award winning investigative journalist Stephen Jimenez published a book that suggested Matthew’s murder was not a hate crime but was more likely related to the drug trade. Needless to say, his thesis caused controversy with suggestions it diminished the vileness of the crime.
Regardless of what the full story is about Matthew’s cruel death, nothing can derogate from the evil that was perpetrated. The oratorio stands: it is about an “ordinary boy” who loved and was loved, who celebrated the majesty and mystery of the wide outdoors, who loved theatre and music and food and “feeling good”, who loved surprising and delighting friends and neighbours, who loved meeting new people, and who loved politics and learning languages. But he was an “ordinary boy”, as one of the songs in the oratorio explores, and he died an anything but ordinary death, and who is now immortalised in many ways, and is no longer ordinary.
Craig Hella Johnson’s oratorio brings all this to a conscious level, and it is celebratory, sad, shocking, disturbing, and positive, and optimistic, and beautiful.
Conductor and musical director Jesse Budel has assembled a superb choir and excellent musical ensemble, which are joined by soloists Mark Oates and Jennifer Trijo. Musically, the result is first rate. At times the acoustic of the Elder Hall blurred the choir and crisp consonant sounds were being lost, but Budel set and maintained an appropriate pace that by and large ameliorated the issue. The staging of the performance was sublime. Lighting was carefully designed and executed to be sympathetic to the content being sung, and two large projection screens to the sides of the stage displayed images that were whimsical, funny, sad, and evocative. Modest amounts of haze made us feel we were at the site of Matthew’s savage and inhumane bashing. For some songs, some of the singers left the stage and located themselves around the auditorium with devastating emotional impact, and Budel controlled it all authoritatively. Bravo Budel and Chakravarti. Bravo.
Oates sang exceptionally well, and he bent the Elder acoustic to his wont. He hasn’t sung better. His In Need of Breath and Deer Song were almost breathtaking. Trijo was also at the top of her game, with crystal clear articulation and a mesmerising blend of gentle vibratory and straight tones.
Members of the choir also sang solo parts, and smaller groups. The lady’s quartet that sang Keep it Away from Me was a highlight. The affecting I am like you was sung a cappella and was very fine indeed.
Considering Matthew Shepard is a major work, and is approximately 100 minutes non-stop in length, even with two songs omitted for this performance. (Budel later informed me that one song was optional and the other is often cut to make the ending more straightforward.) Towards the end, the high emotion of the piece and being confined to one’s seat for the entire performance, it almost … almost … starts to drag, but no sooner does that thought start to creep into one’s mind when the tempo of the music surges and the singing and lyricism become an explosion of joy in the penultimate movement, All of Us!
And there it is. Ultimately joyous. A composition and a performance that anyone could enjoy. Anyone. Yes, it needs to be billed that way, and even though this is the second time that Budel has presented this work, it deserves to be staged heard again. Soundstream New Music and Budel are to be applauded for taking the risk a second time.
Kym Clayton
When: 12 to 14 Oct
Where: Elder Hall
Bookings: Closed
Musica Viva. Adelaide Town Hall. 12 Oct 2023
On occasion you know that what you are hearing in the concert hall is rare and extraordinary. Tonight’s concert given by the Vision String Quartet is one of those moments. In a fleeting seventy minutes, our understanding of what constitutes ‘significance’ in string quartet playing was challenged, and new benchmarks were created.
The Vision String Quartet is indeed a revelation.
This is high praise indeed, but this reviewer has never before experienced a string quartet that is able to present challenging repertoire with such transparency that it feels like a familiar ‘old friend’. Ernest Bloch’s Prelude for String Quartet, B.63, and especially Béla Bartók’s String Quartet No.4 in C minor, Sz.91 are not walks in the park by any stretch of the imagination, and in lesser hands they can sound inaccessible. However, the members of the Vision String Quartet fully appreciate what makes these compositions come to life and stay alive, and their playing tapped into this life blood and was a revelation. There’s that word again.
So, what makes this particular ensemble special? Like many other ensembles, their technical skill and musicality is of the highest order. Like some other ensembles, they stand rather than sit while performing (with the exception of the cellist). Like very few (any?) other highest calibre ensembles, they play a full program totally from memory – there’s not a music stand nor a sheet of music nor an iPad in sight. The excellent Musica Viva program notes accompanying the concert provide us with the reasons why the Vision String Quartet choose to play without music, which do not need to be replicated here, but suffice to say that it is a significant choice. Arguably, memorising a piece of music gives a musician a more profound understanding of the score, and playing it from memory may liberate them to give a more heartfelt performance. But then again, there are many elite musicians who almost always have the music in front of them and still give bravura performances.
Perhaps it doesn’t matter, but with the Vision String Quartet it does seem to have an impact. It is fascinating to watch them perform as they intensely concentrate on each other and watch (as well as hear) precisely what each other is doing. Every muscle twitch, every sideways glance or fleeting smile is sharply observed. The progression of the music calls for allegiances between the players shift and change. Leonard Disselhorst on cello and Sander Stuart on viola concentrate intensely on each other in the opening bars of the Bloch. When it’s time for the violins to enter, Daniel Stoll and Florian Willeitner on violins hold each other’s gaze and Disselhorst and Stuart check on them. Disselhorst encouragingly leans towards the violins and checks that his dialogue with them is what they are calling for. They constantly adjust and trade-off, but faithfully stick at Bloch’s intentions. What they are doing is incredibly believable. They are not reading the music; they are feeling it.
The Bartók is performed with crystal clarity, and the mathematical symmetry of the piece is laid bare. The prestissimo second movement ends with a final up-bow, which is almost nonchalant, and fleeting knowing smiles all round. The bows are all placed on Disselhorst’s lap for the allegretto pizzicato fourth movement, and with the final plucked note there’s that nonchalance again, but it’s not really that. It’s more an expression of calmness that comes with being supremely comfortable with the task at hand. The Bartók ends with an almost standard reading of the allegro molto final movement: it’s lively, well-articulated and the technical difficulty is made to look easy.
Antonín Dvořák’s String Quartet No.13 in G major, Op.106 rounded out the concert. Unlike the previous pieces by Bloch and Bartók, it is suffused with rich lyrical melodies that more easily appeal to a Western ear, but that does not diminish the exceptional clarity with which the earlier pieces were played. Indeed, the clarity exposed the melodic material more convincingly: the forest did not obscure the trees, as it were. As beautiful as the Dvořák was, for this reviewer the magic of the concert was in the revealing and astonishing performances of the Bloch and the Bartók, and in the encore, which was a Latin-infused dance piece from their recent album Spectrum. As in the pizzicato movement of the Bartók, they dispensed with their bows and played the instruments as if they were guitars (except the cello!). It seemed very much like a jam session. They played to and for each other; they competed; they strutted their stuff; they had fun. And the audience just loved it.
Again, the Vision String Quartet is a revelation.
Kym Clayton
When: 12 Oct
Where: Adelaide Town Hall
Bookings: Closed