Early opera as sitcom

This was opera, but early. Monteverdi from 1619 and 1624; Pergolesi from 1733. Three singers performing with an early music ensemble with harpsichord and theorbo and supplied with the right bows. All in Italian. I could do nothing but think of this as popular entertainment of the time. Presumably it was, being stories of men and women battling in various ways. The main work, Pergolesi La serva padrona (=the maid turned mistress) involved a rebelious servant three hours late with the morning chocolate eventually turning the tables and winning marriage. A wiley woman outsmarting a man who is ultimately glad to be deceived. I can imagine laughter and wines (it being Italian) rather than a festival and respectful listeners impressed by trained voices. Think commercial stations and sitcom or romantic comedy rather than ABC arts programming. But the voices were good, even excellent. We sat with a woman who had studied seriously voice and who was enamoured with the genuine Italian, Marco Beasley, speaking highly of an ability to hit high notes while retaining a masculine, deeper edge, and his skills at performance. This is opera, so dramatic as well as musical. And the other two singers, too, Taryn Fiebig and David Greco were no slouches, looking believable despite the plots and stark, indicative sets. The sets were just two raised stages in the middle of the lengthy room, with audience each side. The accompanying musicians were middle of the space and off to one side. This was a Festival Ensemble, a mix of musos, but I understand it was led by Forma Antigua, a period plucked string ensemble (harpsichord, theorbo and baroque guitar) from Spain. Obscure brilliance is a feature of this festival. (For obscure brilliance, think Nadia Ratsimandresy, Parisian plalyer of the Ondes Martenot. I gave her a lift to the airport. She told me there are maybe 10 professional Ondes Martenot players is France [it's an early electronic instrument from 1930s France] and perhaps 30/40 in the world. I hear her concert was a stunner). As for popular entertainment of the period, I also noted, about Marco Beasley, that he sang in Italian with the ease and fluency of a native speaker. This was hugely pleasant to me, having lived in Italy for several years and of Italian heritage. For all the understanding and practice of English speakers, it just can't be the same. So, a wonderful night, no doubt even more for those who enjoy opera and its Italian heritage. The CIMF remains ever intriguing. And one entreact insert: Anna McMichael playing Francesco Geminiani Violin solo in C major.

Monteverdi and Pergolesi operas were performed at the Fitters Workshop for the CIMF by singers Taryn Fiebig, David Greco, Marco Beasley with support of the Festival Ensemble led by Forma Antigua and including a few mates amongst others, Laura Barton, the Rayner sisters, Rohan Dasika and Anna McMichael.

Welcoming the German baroque

Admittedly it's the JS Bach, but I've been listening to it all day after recording Salut! Baroque on Friday night at the Albert Hall. There are all sorts of things that worked this night. They played two sets, each of Handel, Telemann, CPE Bach and JC Bach. They were in Albert Hall and it works a treat for a baroque orchestra like this. They were just lovely, playing with gentle period instruments and with some magical performers. The music was delightful. I have heard the JS Bach several times today. Just the right length for the drives I had to do, to Campbell and Queanbeyan. This was the Concerto in C minor for violin and oboe, BWV1060. Well known, not least for Philip Adams and LeninL. There were some coughs but the violin was a dream (Anna McMichael with the most delicious of bowing skills) and the bass violin is unusual but clear and fits perfectly and another Anna, this time Fraser, was singing and the whole band flowed with lively, mobile energy. This was music of a period and place, of baroque Germany, played with understanding and historical awareness (I have yet to read the notes on the relationships of these four). These days, a period concert is a lesson in history as well as a listening experience and this was one. Lovely band, visiting quarterly, well attended. Salut! Baroque are a pleasure from a now-distant yet strangely relevant era.

Salut! Baroque performed at the Albert Hall and comprised Anna Fraser (soprano), Sally Melhuish (recorder), Hans-Dieter Michatz (recorder), Jane Downer (baroque oboe), Anna McMichael (baroque violin), Meg Cohen (baroque violin), Valmai Coggins (baroque viola), Tim Blomfield (bass violin) and Monika Kornel (harpsichord).

G'day

We might say g'day but the French say Salut. I thought it was from Salute, or health, and etymologically it is, but in this incarnation, it's like Italian Ciao, a general greeting , meaning Hello or Goodbye. Handy. We heard Salut! Baroque at the Albert Hall. They are a baroque group playing period instruments and they are from Sydney, so Hello and Goodbye is apt. But we'll see them again; they visit quarterly.

Albert Hall is probably the best venue for this music in Canberra. It seems of another era; it's reverberent and has touches of decoration and deep velvet curtains. Not sure it's the best for acoustics though. I liked that we formed a semicircle around the players, but I didn't always hear so well. It was only confirmed when Hans-Dieter Michatz spoke to introduce the csakan, a very long instrument that sounded all the world to me like a descant recorder. (But then, I am not intimate with the descant recorded to hear the difference). It's an impressive looking thing, about 1.5 metres long, black and pointy at the bottom, flat beak at the top with a recorder-like ramp and window, as I could make out. There was another new instrument for me, the bass violin. Tuned in 5ths with the open high string the same as the violin. Also called a baroque cello or, interestingly, a single bass. And played with a baroque bow, but underhand, smaller, but held like a German bow on a double bass. Otherwise, the harpsichord, strings, bows, gut and the rest were as expected.

There was music, too, that was obscure. Schütz and Krahmer and Quantz were new names to me. The Handel, CPE and JS Bach and Telemann and Buxtehude are known well enough. Some of the music was well known, too. JS Bach's Oboe Concerto in Dmin, Handel's Lascia ch'io pianga and CPE Bach's Harpsichord Concerto in Dmin. The mix of musicians changed constantly, so the sound also varied. I felt they got the hang of the acoustics in the second set, so lines and interplay was more easy to follow. It had been a bit mushy or indeterminate at the start although the bass violin always cut through. This was also a hot day and Albert Hall is not airconditioned. Another aspect of authentic performance (as well as the tuning). Interesting for the voice, gently attacked but firm and loud. And the three recorders (two and the csakan) were unusual. I felt that Salut! Baroque has a steady but aging followers. Sad, this. We live in a busy present without sense of history and a radical individualism is promoted endlessly. Saying hello to a bit of our past is a worthy remedy.

Salut! Baroque are Jane Sheldon (soprano), Sally Melhuish (recorder), Hans-Dieter Michatz (recorder, csakan), Jane Downer (baroque oboe), Anna McMichael (baroque violin), Julia Russoniello (baroque violin), Valmai Coggins (baroque viola), Tim Blomfield (baroque cello), Monika Kornel (harpsichord).

Eight seasons

I jest. It’s really just four seasons each from two composers. The seasons were the premiere of Elena Kats-Chernin’s Four [Australian] Seasons and Astor Piazzolla’s Four Seasons of Buenos Aires and the performances were in the Great Hall at Parliament House for the Canberra International Music Festival.

Kats-Chernin is a bourgeois favourite these days, given her comparative fame as the composer of the theme music for ABC RN’s Late Night Live. She deserves it. Her music is tuneful and very accessible and often memorable. Don Aitken commented that recent “classical” music has been written for the audience whereas a few decades ago it was written for fellow composers. Not sure of the truth of this one, but lots of straight music and music making is more accessible now, with conductors speaking from the podium and more movement and sexier images (viz. ACO) and more lyrical compositions. K-C’s seasons start with Spring and cover an Australian year with lazy, hot summers and the like. Spring felt right to me. I counted them off. I’m not sure I would have otherwise picked the remaining seasons, but the music was quite beautiful none-the-less. And I loved the piercing clarity of Anna McMichael’s solo violin. The work was a commission of Canberra author Barbara Blackman and was performed by Anna McMichael (violin), Elena Kats-Chernin (piano, composition) with the Canberra Festival Camerata under John Harding (director).

The other four seasons were from Buenos Aires and Astor Piazzolla. I’d heard the theme in his operetta Maria de Buenos Aires. I enjoy Piazzolla’s energy and attractive tunes and iconoclasm and I particularly liked his operetta for its odd but intriguing storyline and view of a city. But I find his music is pretty samey. A friend is a listener to AP and said after the performance that Piazzolla reuses his themes. Maybe it’s the nature of the bandoneon which was his instrument. But you have to love the vibrancy and passion of the tango and especially AP’s un-danceable version of it. It is truly a buzz. Again this was a work featuring a violin, although here it was interacting more individually, conversationally with other strings, especially viola and cello, and they had equally passionate, if shorter, segments. And was this passionate! Lara St. John stood to play (the musicians mostly did) and this was full body involvement: twists and bends, very unlike the concert hall, even unlike the jazz club. It was certainly a physical performance. But I liked her violin: all sorts of scrapes and effects, some lengthy unison pizzicato at one stage, big intervals, lots of slides, taps, the lot, and lovely, clearly ringing high notes, despite all the passionate performance. And were they harmonic slides on bass by Justin? Lots of passionate fury and very attractive melody, but again I didn’t catch the seasons. My AP-listening mate agreed these were more variations on a theme than identifiable seasons, and I think there were more than four musical segments. Whatever, this was vibrant and passionate and seemed to me to be epic and tragic at its heart. I don’t feel that way about the seasons, even the Canberra winter, but these are passionate people. Astor Piazzolla’s Four Seasons of Buenos Aires was performed by Lara St. John (violin) with the Canberra Festival Camerata and John Harding (Director).