A national Forrest

The Forrest National Chamber Orchestra was not one I knew of, but it was a nice find. So was the venue. They played at the neat, timbered, acoustically crisp Wesley Music Centre. It’s a venue with a major ongoing musical program and one that I’ve too infrequently attended. With the coming dearth/death of music in Canberra, Wesley and such institutions will be increasingly needed and loved (presumably while others are maligned).

FNCO is convened and conducted by teacher Gillian Bailey-Graham. This concert featured two successful, mature students: Rebecca Smith on violin and Rosemary Davidson on viola. The first piece with Barber’s Adagio for strings. It’s touching and very well known. I’d heard it from the Sydney Symphony and it had been eminently professional and smooth, but that performance didn’t connect for me. This was a bit rougher but more immediate and intimate. The emotions seemed personal, experienced, not syrupy. Perhaps it’s just the interaction an audience has with musos at 5 paces, but this spoke to us directly as a rendition for thousands in a performance barn can’t do. I particularly enjoyed Rebecca’s violin for tone and intonation, and the lines that would pass from violin to Rosemary’s viola with shimmering strings behind. There were also some devilishly ensemble chords that formed behind some lines. They challenged the group and more traditional listeners but added an air of unsentimental truth to my ears.

The second number was Mozart’s Sinfonia concertante in Eb major 1st movement. This was older, clearer, livelier, lighter, stately sometimes flowing, melodic and contrapuntal rather than harmonic and layered. It was easy to grasp and almost homely with its overt and tuneful harmonies and joyous melodies. You couldn’t not love it. The final work was Vaughan Williams Concerto grosso for string orchestra. This was a return to the harmonies of the twentieth century, but this time with a dogged industriousness. There were five movements and they varied, but I had a feeling about this as obstinate, unyielding strings of quavers or minims, the orchestra playing together in industrious concurrence. The work of sturdy English yeomen or a nation of shopkeepers.

Congratulations to an amateur orchestra for a very successful program, and one that was clearly entertaining and well received. The Forrest National Chamber Orchestra was led by Gillian Bailey-Graham (conductor) and featured Rebecca Smith (violin) and Rosemary Davidson (viola). The full orchestra was: Violins 1: Rebecca Smith (concertmster), John Dobson, Yi-an Lai, Liam Keneally, Jet Lin, Jack Chenowyth; Violins 2: Hannah Lord (principal), Donica Tran, Lockie Ferrier, Rosemary McPhail, Sally Whitehouse; Viola: Rosemary Davidson (principal), Christian Carmody, Robert Harris, Clare Whittle, Lyndall Nevin; Cello: Frances Stevens (principal), Elizabeth Prentice, Duncan McIntyre, Julia Janiszewski.

Waves and spaces

The Concert Hall at the Sydney Opera House is a very big space and we were down the back and so the volume of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra playing Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony was feeble. I got used to it but earlier I noticed the loud passages were more like mfs to my (admittedly damaged) ears. I’d also listened to the symphony while driving to Sydney and was none too excited by it. Although I loved the orchestra, I remained underwhelmed by the music. It was described as the most energetic and most classical of Beethoven’s symphonies and whose “direct appeal lies in a single musical element: rhythm” (The voice of ecstasy : Edo conducts Beethoven [SSO program], 2011, p.8). I found the lines obvious and the rhythms nowhere near as interesting as a latin percussion section, but of course this is music of several hundred years ago and European classical music was never music of rhythm. I did like the second movement, but nothing unexpected there. It’s got a popular history and there’s a recognition factor (for example, it was used during the recent movie, The King’s Speech, during the feature speech, no less). Obviously others noticed that movement too, because there was a huge crescendo of chatter and shuffling after it finished, to the obvious frustration of conductor Edo de Waart. This was obviously not one with the otherwise formal approach (conductor is voiceless and disappears offstage between cheers). Despite these disappointments, the orchestra was a dream: sharp and clear and precise and together; not at all mechanical but very accurate. That I loved. The orchestra for the Beethoven was ~50 players (four bassists) and this just didn’t fill the space, but what we heard was wonderful. I picked up an SSO program for 2011 and I could see why: 100+ performances; ~50 staff; a Board of 12 and a Council of ~45; plenty of patrons/sponsors; large expenses and government funding; enough performances to require an index of soloists and composers. The professionalism certainly showed. This was beautifully performed music, even if I was somewhat nonplussed by the whole.

Samuel Barber’s famous and popular Adagio for Strings followed the interval. This is just that: strings. It’s a beautifully constructed, sparse melody that has popularity and recognition from films and funerals. I enjoyed it well enough, but was getting uncomfortable with shrill high strings by the end of the first part and was relieved when the basses entered for a more balanced sound. Then it ended. Seven minutes. Short, attractive and well received.

But in my eyes, the feature of the night was a fabulously delicate, minimalist but tonal modern work, Harmonium by John Adams. The orchestra for this was big, perhaps 100 players (8 basses) with a mixed choir of ~200. The piece started with the quietest of instrumental background that grew with immensely beautiful female voices in tonal and atonal harmony to a wave of sound that rolled over us. Then minimalist repetition and filigree-fine tones that moved within and without orchestra and interacted with voices of all pitches. So many tones and so delicately sounded: bells, harmonium, all manner of blown or bowed or plucked or percussed instruments. And wave after wave of sound that grew from the most discrete to swells that surged over the audience, tsunami-like, overwhelming, only to die away then resuscitate for another wave, all the while the mechanical beat of modern times less noticed but ever-present. I remember one bass-heavy passage with four double basses bowed and four other basses plucked and a voluminous tuba (?) singing sweetly above. The delicacy was like this throughout. A work of diaphanous tonal detail, swelling waves of sound and underlying mesmeric minimalism. I recognised this as a music that’s been taken on by big, heavily funded public events like Olympic opening ceremonies, but it hasn’t yet been usurped. This music is still powerful and speaking of modern concerns to modern ears. A wonderful and memorable experience.

As we left we got talking with an older, well-dressed, concert-going lady with a European accent. Her take was something like this: Beethoven is Beethoven, Barber was lovely, but there was a telling if reticent glee when she talked of the Adams. I felt very much in common company. The Sydney Symphony Orchestra and Sydney Philharmonia Choirs performed in the Concert Hall at the Sydney Opera House. They were conducted by Edo de Waart and performed Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony (Op.92, A major), Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings and John Adams’ Harmonium.