Wrap-up

This Canberra International Music Festival was a blast for Megan and me. It’s a different experience to be so involved: more work, more time consuming, a busy house, but also more satisfying and more informed. We billeted James Eccles (viola) for the full festival and Graeme Jennings (violin) for the last weekend. We chatted music and heard strings at breakfast and were close to practising habits. We drove Graeme and Clare Tunney (cello) and others so chatted more. We knew of rehearsals and attended a few and these were interesting in a very different way from the performances. We heard tell of people and challenges and the inevitable minor foibles. We never tasted the soup. The density of contact and concerts taught us of composers and styles and musical history.

I blogged and attended more than I’d ever expected to, so the Festival took on shape and the creativity of Chris Latham’s (Artistic Director) event became more evident: Canberra the city, its role in democracy, its design and designers, Walter Burley Griffin and Marion Mahoney Griffin, who appeared in a delightful and informative conceit. All this in the year of Canberra’s 100th anniversary and the C100 festivities. The gathering of professional players for the Canberra Camerata Chamber Orchestra and the Song Company and Roland Peelman and the New Zealand and choral and ANU and other local connections. The internationals that thrill with their presence but also mingle and share learning back and forth: Pieter Wispelway (cello) and Paul Dresher (composer, US/California) and his Double Duo and Gavin Bryars (composer, UK). The interleaving of works from the baroque and Bach to minimalism and the modern. The setting of history (Great War, fin de siecle) that was influential at the time of Canberra’s founding. It’s a rich tapestry and this festival explored it with considerable musical and historical intellect. Being a part and attending more than a few concerts lets you appreciate all these themes. Of course, this takes time and maybe that’s why so many attendees were obviously retired.

Looking back, I found little that was disappointing and this actually surprises me. Perhaps worst was the Canberra Times coverage which was almost derisory. For such a high quality and intelligent event, I expected more coverage. Chris Latham had claimed Jesus’ Blood as perhaps the most important composition of the century (he’s always enthusiastic) yet I don’t remember a review. The Sculthorpe premiere got a very limited space as part of one article reviewing 3 concerts. It may not be run with the budget and renown of more famous festivals, but it is clearly run with intelligence and creativity that I reckon would vie with the best. CIMF2013 was a hugely successful event and Chris and the others who were involved can be duly proud. So should be Canberra and Australia.

Such a perfect day

Canberrans obviously don’t have a problem with a challenging harmony, because there were lots of both of them present when Vertical played for that quintessentially middle-class event, the Summer Series in the Australian National Botanic Gardens. It’s a gorgeous environment, in a dry Australian way, and the weather was perfect and sunny after several days of evening thunderstorms. The families with young kids and grandparents were out, everyone sitting back with picnics, variously chatting or listening or dancing or joking. The good Aussie cheeses and wines and a few beers made the show, but in a dignified and restrained way. Truly, an apt image of a comfortable modern Australia for an Australia Day weekend (which it was). We can agree to forget wars and financial catastrophes and indigenous disadvantage for the duration, and enjoy the pleasure which modern Australian life is for most of the population.

I’ve written up Vertical before. Eric Ajaye leads with his signature lithe, growling and fluent double bass, and sometimes switches to electric for funkier tunes. All the while defining rhythm with authority and harmony with transparency. Paul Dal Broi is an image of concentration and intent, in presence and in playing and there are some gloriously mobile dissonances amongst them, but only when it’s due. I think it was Hancock I heard in the funky tune, but he often spoke with recognisable jazz voices. Chris Thwaite is always carefully expressed, leaning towards understatement, but released some extravagant solos against riffs on the funkier tunes. Niels Rosendahl was sitting in. His playing expresses an experience and intimacy that his years belie. His is a metallic, clean, controlled sound. His is always the true melodic statement that so perfectly befits a piece, perhaps simple blues or balladic melody. But then the release into patterns that repeat through beguiling dissonance to a faithful resolution, or sheets of shimmering but moving harmonic clarity. You can hear his commitment and practice: the basics - scales, arpeggios, extensions, through all the keys - are just plain right, all the time. But it’s not just limited to that. Rather it’s held under musical control. As it should be.

The tunes were mostly ones I’ve heard from this band before. Paul arranges a number of interesting popular tunes, and they are transformed into jazz expressions of complexity and sensitivity. They fit like a glove: One hand one heart, True colours, even Raindrops keep falling on my head. Lean was a new one for me, a medium paced funky number which ended with a heartbeat groove. Paul composed another that I recall, a lovely tune called Three for Rose, dedicated to his deceased grandmother. It was a gently swinging number, with an ascending call and a descending response.

So, a fine performance, and a fine view of modern, cultured, easy-going Australian life. And ArtSound were broadcasting live to air, so just one more confirmation, if needed, of the nature of the Canberra lifestyle. I’ve included a few pics to expand on my word picture. Fine performance; fine and relaxed little society.