What we forget

We are relatively lucky, living in Canberra, the bush capital, relatively close to nature, but it's still something we miss or ignore or that passes us by. I realised it seeing some beautiful views of red soil, then gum bark projected at Wesley. We know it but forget it. It wasn't quite so 50-years ago, but we are more urbanised now. It surprised me. The event was a strange and informative session (hard to call it a concert) entitled Where song began featuring two mates I know from the Australian Haydn Ensemble, Anthony Albrecht and Simone Slattery, cello and violin. Both are exceptionally trained and musical; both have glorious tones and skills. In fact, I thought Anthony's Bach Prelude no.1 (from cello suite no.1) was the most intense rendition I have heard. And Simone hit me for six (it's Ashes time) with Schmelzer Cucu Sonata (1664) or was it David Lang Anthochaera carunculate (Red Wattle Bird) a new commission (2017); perhaps both. And she sung decently too, especially Ngarra Burra Ferra, an Indigenous hymn. But it was more. This was an exploration of Australian songbirds out of Tim Low's book, Where Song Began : Australia's Birds and How They Changed the World, and further afield, a broader touch on the environment. There was science and species and nature melded with music and performance all in low light and flittering feathers. More than just a concert. I'm still processing it and I learnt quite a bit but mostly I just learnt our distance from nature these days. The end-times of climate are enough to confirm that. I should have known.

Simone Slattery (violin, vocals) and Anthony Albrecht (cello) presented Where song began at Wesley. And thanks to Anthony and Simone for the use of the pic.

Listening

Listening improves with experience, like many other capabilities. Last night was the Australian Haydn Ensemble. I've heard them many times but I noticed I'm hearing more now. Not all the time, but more frequently. I play music something like this (although don't play it quite like this!) so my awareness has been honed, my hearing attuned. So I marvelled at the way the phrasing moved between players; how the phrases were spelt out together, in conformity, yet not lifelessly cloned; how individual instruments would spell out their parts (Anthony's cello was impeccable) so even a note had form and life, or would bounce with staccato; how the whole was dynamic and expressive and how a few passing glances would hold this all together. The tunes of this are often not so very difficult to read or to play, mostly with harmonies and melodies that fit scalar or arpeggiated patterns except for the occasional oddball phrasing that may trips you up or some cadenza that flies with semiquavers. This is not music of dissonances or odd times but of order and dignity and some humour, except maybe for the slow middle movements that can be things of exquisite beauty. There were the tuning interludes, which are so much a part of this period music, but the rounded tone is the end result and so lovely. And these are friends: those glances were often little smiles and the guys joshed at the end and they all glowed with pleasure. The theme was the baroque oboe and a few quartets named "the Hunt". The format was quartet for all, string quartets or three strings with oboe. The music was Haydn String Quartet ‘The Hunt’ Op.1 No.1 Bbmaj, Mozart Oboe Quartet K.370 Fmaj, Janitsch Oboe Quartet Gmin and Mozart String Quartet ‘The Hunt’ K.458 Bbmaj. This was a small incarnation of the AHE, a core with oboe, but they are always intellectually thoughtful and musically wonderfully satisfying. That delicacy and unity that a string quartet can portray, this time with music and instruments located somewhere in the early classical period. Just a joy as always and an education in just performance.

Australian Haydn Ensemble performed Haydn, Mozart and Janitsch at ANU University House. On the night, AHE comprised Skye McIntosh (violin), Simone Slattery (violin), James Eccles (viola), Anthony Albrecht (cello) and Amy Power (oboe).

Bach to Bush Capital

Two great concerts in two days; a pleasure. The second was Anthony Albrecht on his Bach to the Bush tour of ~20 locations throughout the Eastern states. It's an intimate thing, with a chat and even Q&As on offer, but that's not to diminish the music or its performance. Obviously there's Bach. Anthony played two Bach cello suites, no.1 Gmaj and no.2 Dmin, introducing them with discussions and quotes on the nature of each key. The Gmaj is the best known and joyous and optimisitic. The Dmin is darker: we learnt that Dmin has been described as the "key in which a ghost would speak". Then later, a caprice by Dall-Abbaco written in Ebmaj, an "indescribably gentle" key. Also a Chaconne by Giuseppe Colombi and, at the top, a fascinating introductory piece that was very much out of left field, Reclaiming the spirit by Sarah Hopkins. This work was commissioned and played at the renaming of Uluru and it vividly portrayed Australian bush sounds and the didj. It took mammothly different technique, a readiness to break long training and a regular concert bow to play and was engrossing and convincing. All the tunes had a story as an introduction: a recognition of the local Ngunnawal people; a discussion of the cello's appearance (mid C17th, Italy, as a smaller bass instrument with the new technology of gut strings sheathed in metal); an introduction to Anthony's own 1740s English cello; music as acknowledgement of dark places; of Bach's own history, his loss of 10 from 20 children and his devout religion and composition that was structured in lines with this devotion (eg, in St Matthew's Passion, counted bars, multiplied by the golden mean, bring you to the crucifixion!). All informative but this is not the music. I loved the Hopkins Australian piece, all vivid bush and didj. I was intrigued by Anthony's takes on Bach, light, sometimes flighty across strings, using the more delicate baroque bow. How he paused on the root notes of a phrase, then floated over the arpeggios and scalar phrase that followed. Not the even, determined baroque we sometimes hear or expect moving through exercised sequences, but deeply expressive and delicately phrased, speaking through harmonies of heavenly spheres. Baroque spoken by another age. So, lovely and informed by era and deeply satisfying.

Anthony Albrecht performed at Wesley on his solo Bach to the Bush tour.

Both sorrow and joy

It's coming on Easter (another nebulous reference to Joni Mitchell) so it's time for the dolorous strains of the Stabat Mater. Not something to josh about. Stabat Mater dolorosa is a theme that's widely composed (600 versions is mentioned in the program): intimate and profound, a recounting of mother Mary below the cross of Christ. With any mother it would be a painful image. We heard Boccherini's 1781 version to text attributed to Jocopone da Todi for the 13th century. Sara Macliver sang with accompaniment from the Australian Haydn Ensemble. A work of ~45 minutes of both sorrow and redemptive joy. I found it surprisingly uncomplicated musically, or at least technically, and maybe that's apt for real passion. The rest of the program was Mozart and Boccherini. B's Flute quintet in G minor, then a string of arias and the Divertimento from strings in Bb from Mozart. One aria, Laetari iocari from Apollo and Hyacinth, was written by Mozart at age 11 (!) and was a bravura demonstration of quick, neat and accurate voice production, fast arpeggios and terrific control. It was fun to hear the ex-chorists in the break lauding Sara's control. The AHE is always a huge pleasure, bringing together informed programming and wonderfully capable playing of the baroque and early classical repertoire that it explores. I particularly follow Jacqueline on bass for her delicate phrasing and some awesomely rapid lines when called for. Also close to the bass end is Anthony on cello, playing with careful distinction. I loved one line well into the thumb position that he played unison with first violin and musical director, Skye. It was intriguing to notice how he prepared for a line, quietly plucking a string in the background to ensure a prominent entry pitch was right. The two violins, Skye and Simone worked neatly together. I find it intriguing to compare tones of violin pairs in small ensembles like this and I've noticed the differences before. In this case, Skye's tone appeared more mellow than Simone's. James rounded out the strings on his new viola. Lovely to hear the embellishments of harmonies from this internally placed instrument. Melissa played her period flute on several works, not least the flute concerto, of course, but not for the whole program. I immensely enjoy this tone that works well with gut to place the sound of the ensemble. AHE is drawn from all ends of the world: based in Sydney; Sara was invited from Perth; Jacqueline and Anthony are now resident in London but relatively frequent returnees. Another wonderful concert from these mates. The next Stabat Mater for me is jsut a few weeks off: Pergolesi's with a few excerpts from Vivaldi's by Adhoc Baroque on 22 March.

Sara Macliver (soprano) sang with the Australian Haydn Ensemble at University House at ANU. AHE were Skye McIntosh (violin, musical director), Simone Slattery (violin), James Eccles (viola), Anthony Albrecht (cello), Jacqueline Dossor (bass) and Melissa Farrow (flute).

Existential

It's a challenge to an atheist in the 21st century that this music of Haydn, written in the seventeenth century and a recitation of the words of Christ on the cross may be amongst the best music ever written. Certainly I thought that as I was listening to this thing of immense beauty, but I think it often enough for other music, too, so confusion can be just be put down to existential angst. Whatever, this was beautiful. The work is called Seven last words. Haydn composed it for string quartet on commission from Cádiz in 1786 and it was initially performed, unexpectedly for Haydn, in a small, bare chapel. The seven phrases were initially spoken between the sonatas, but eventually got written into an oratorio version. This performance was a rare one by four voices individually singing parts with string quartet on period instruments. The performers were stunning: an instrumental quartet from Australian Haydn Ensemble with a vocal quartet from the Song Company. First class. The movements are Introduction, seven sonatas and an ending Terremoto (earthquake). The words (=phrases) are: Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do; Today you will be with me in Paradise; Woman, behold your son; My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?; I thirst; It is finished; Into your hands, Father, I commend my spirit. The sonatas move through various major and minor keys in various tempos, from Largo and grave to maestoso, adagio and presto con tutta la forza (Terremoto). Just stunning and immensely beautiful in a way that bridges the baroque. The whole lasted about 90 minutes. Projected text located the listener. The text was sung in German. I thrilled at Anna's carrying soprano; enjoyed the high tenor voice and lusty bass and harmonising alto. Skye took most melody lines on first violin, with viola and second violin accompanying and giving presence; Anthony's period cello spelt crochets or counterpoint. There's a perfection in this small ensemble of one voice per part. Apparently it hasn't been recorded in this format and someone suggested that they might. I hope they do. In a studio, with no coughs and the perfection it deserves. Stunning.

The Australian Haydn Ensemble and the Song Company performed Haydn's Seven last words (of Christ). The instrumentalists were Skye McIntosh (first violin), Catherine Shugg (second violin), James Eccles (viola) and Anthony Albrecht (cello). The singers were Anna Fraser (soprano), Hannah Fraser (alto), Richard Black (tenor) and Andrew O'Connor (bass).

The solo cello

How strange that I heard two performances of the Courante from Bach's Cello Suite no. 3 in C major on the same day. First was at the ANUSoM masterclass. The second was that evening when Anthony Albrecht played at St John's Anglican Church. Anthony was touring a solo performance called Bach to Bush as a return to Australia after studies at Julliard Music School in NYC. Enough said; this was a masterful performance. Anthony studied historical performance at Julliard, aware of the practices and instruments of the era, performing with gut and baroque bow. He said the bow's lighter, for niftier playing. He'd need it. I can think of Bach as ordered, even, but the suites are much freer than that; incredible explorations of harmony and purpose. Anthony played the third (C major), the second (A minor), the fourth (Eb major), the first (G major; prelude only) and an interesting interlude with Chaconne a basso solo by Giuseppe Colombi. The technical feat of the suites is there, of course, with rapid lines and double stops and exposed intonation. Watching his fingers, stretched for performance as they may be, is a massive pleasure for a string player. Watching the range and expression possible in a cello is a massive pleasure for a bass player. Cello is often cited as peoples' favourite stringed instrument. I can understand, with its expressiveness combined with depth and fragility. And Bach and the cello suites hold a special place in the repertoire, with great players known for their recordings. Wispelway played the suites in two concerts in Canberra a few years back. Anthony has studied privately with Wispelway so this is firm continuity. This was a performance of individuality and learned awareness. I sat back to marvel at the beauty, the skills, or closed my eyes to appreciate the genius of Bach's invention. It was only later that I thought of the concert in terms of orchestral or solo playing. An orchestra can be big in sound and varied in tone but written music and the conductor's baton can never capture the complexity of the individual response, so the solo is unique in its communication and Anthony did it proud. Anthony's off to London and further studies but he has family in Australia so he'll return every so often. For that be thankful and take advantage if and when he comes through Canberra again.

Anthony Albrecht (cello) performed several Bach cello suites at St John's.

Seduction at court

Garth Mansfield, the Director at Wesley Music Centre, thanked the Australian Haydn Ensemble at the end observing that they had staged 1,100 concerts over 12 years (something like that) and this was one of the best. I certainly agreed it was something special. Partly because we had involvement through billeting; partly because of the performance. This was early classical music, played with period instruments, all gut and transitional bows and fortepiano. The Wesley is great space for this music. It’s not a particularly pretty but it’s nicely timber-reverberent, of longish shape and relaxed and intimate.

The music was Haydn Clock symphony no.43, Beethoven piano concerto no.1, Salomon Romance in D and Mozart Jupiter Symphony no.41. The ensemble is not large, numbering 8 for the Mozart, so we could follow individual lines, feel the flow of melody and passing phrases, watch it in the musician’s own movements and follow their eyes as they watch for prompts. There’s no conductor, of course, so there were lots of glances. Chatting after, cellist Tony commented favourably about how frequent these glances were. Part of all this is the informality that this music seems to exude. I observed Neal Peres da Costa on fortepiano as he was watching and waiting to come in for a passage in the Beethoven, rocking on his stool with the beat. This is intimate music, and the informality of performance drips from it. It seems so unlike a conductor-led massed orchestra. There’s movement there, too, but I guess it’s lost amongst massed musicians and sections that are biding time and counting. I didn’t hear gut in Handel’s Theodora the other day in the large space of the Playhouse, but we heard gut here and felt the bouncier effect of the bows of this era (they are differently balanced and have the hand some way up the shaft). I also chatted with bassist Jacqueline Dossor and was surprised by her tiny bass (unknown Bolognese luthier c.1750) with a shape harking back to its viol forebears. It was probably built for 3 strings tuned in a triad. Things were different then. The fortepiano was even more obviously different with its soft but tubby, plucky tone. The instruments are otherworldly but so is the music. I speak of this music as dignified and courtly but to see it in this original form makes me think seductive intimacy rather than intellectual respectability. Not that there’s not classical order here, but there’s also playfulness in musical structure and in performance.

I haven’t spoken of performances here but there were seriously impressive individual presences here. I particularly noticed Melissa Farrow’s woody flute and Alice Evan’s fine violin tone and Neal Peres da Costa’s very easy-going fortepiano, but this is as much a function of their forward roles. When I concentrated on any player here, I was satisfied and involved. I loved some unison rapid lines on bass and cello, and Anthony Albrecht’s energetic responses to the music, but they were all involved and mobile. Both ensemble and audience were delighted after the performance. Joyful and informed and somewhat seductive. The Australian Haydn Ensemble returns to Wesley on 19 August for a program of the nascent classicism of CPE Bach. Sadly I can’t make it. Book early: after this gig, expect a sellout.

The Australian Haydn Ensemble performed Haydn’s Clock Symphony, arr. Salomon, Mozart’s Jupiter Symphony, chamber arr. Cimador, Salomon’s Romance in D, flute solo, and Beethoven’s Piano concerto no.1, arr. Lachner. The performers were Alice Evans and Skye McIntosh (violins), Heather Lloyd and James Eccles (violas), Anthony Albrecht (cello), Melissa Farrow (flute), Jacqueline Dossor (double bass) and Neal Peres da Costa (fortepiano).