Finally Merimbula 5: misc pics

Finally Merimbula 4

Then there was my band. I just performed in one band, for two sets over two days. We had decent spots in the program: 9pm Saturday; 10pm Sunday; both at the Sapphire; the second on the main stage. What a blast!

These were seriously good musos and such a pleasure to perform with: Pearl Noire out front, a Jamaican / English / Australian with presence to burn; the renowned local Noddy on drums; Baba and Dan on horns, both great readers and excellent soloists; Mike on piano and musical direction and me. This was such a good outfit: tight as, lively and entertaining, joyful but with serious chops and driving grooves. All reading with just a touch of preparation and otherwise seat of the pants, but with decent players who can cover when the things get loose. The second gig was noticibly better after the practice that was the first. The tunes were virtually all originals, songs by Pearl with charts by Mike, and a few original instrumentals by Mike. This was great fun. And I’m proud (relieved?) to say I carried my part. Thanks to the band, and hope we can do it again. We were Jazz Republic with Pearl Noire: Pearl Noire (vocals), Mike Dooley (piano, musical director), Rouslan (Baba) Babajanov (sax), Dan McLean (flugelhorn, Saturday only), Derrick (Noddy) Brassington (drums) and Eric Pozza (bass).

Finally Merimbula 3

I caught one of two sets of the ANU Big Band under John Mackey. Big it is: 30 performers including eight singers. As you’d expect, it was lively and well turned out. I felt comfy from the first vibrant chords of a Bill Liston chart, and it was a roller coaster ride from there. Woody Herman played on bass clarinet and clarinet; a vocal choir performing Easy to love; a Bach cello suite performed on 6-string e-bass by Jack Schwenke. The Music School now joins students from jazz and classical backgrounds, so we get an idiosyncratic performance. Strange, yes, but also interesting.

Mark VI included several players I was to perform with in my own band, so I had to catch them. They are led by trumpeter Mark Durieu, performing hardbop and the like: David Sanborn, Scotch & soda, Sugar. It’s entertaining music and hardly profound, but I’m sure it doesn’t claim to be. These are good musos: good readers, good soloists, correct and capable. You can see the Army Band connections in the reading and accuracy and occasionally in the haircuts. I particularly enjoyed Noddy’s drive, Baba’s fluent solos and Barney’s easy reading. Barney had to do the set on double after he’d left his guitar strap in the car, but I didn’t notice anything lacking. Mark VI were Mark Durieu (trumpet), Rouslan (Baba) Babajanov (sax), Douglas Hill (piano), Richard Manning (guitar), Scott Temby (guitar – not sure he was playing this set), Barney (Benjamin) Briggs (bass) and Derrick (Noddy) Brassington (drums).

Don’t tell Megan, but I went to a jazz service. Well, actually an ecumenical gospel service, as I was informed by someone leaving a local Anglican church. It was in the Catholic church, an unfortunate ‘60s A-frame construction with a priest who mentioned Parsifal and his preferences for other than jazz. He railed against ideology and at one point even questioned Papal modernism. I can respect tradition, but I felt a chill breeze of Pellucid conservatism about this man. The readings were Psalms 158-160, all praise to the Lord. Some lines from the “responsive prayer” sounded like piffle to my ears: “Let us raise to the limits of time / And behold Your eternity / Let us run to the edges of space / And gaze into Your immensity”. I prefer words like “Blessed are the peacemakers”. I often hear music in churches these days; they can be some of the best spaces for music. This was jazz and gospel singing. Rhythm Syndicate was choir; Pippa Wilson was singer with a decent, mature, traddie band. The songs were Swing down chariot (what is it about chariots in gospel music?), Amazing Grace, God bless the child (lovely!); I believe (credulous pap to my ears); Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah (deeply uncertain and earthy and a paen for our times); He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother (unfortunate); Put your hand in the hand (lively) and When the Saints go marching in (inevitable). I enjoyed this. I sang along and searched for harmonies, no doubt annoying the couple in front of me, but it was fun and it loosened the vocal chords.

Finally Merimbula 2

I listened to an interesting duo over a Thai dinner: baritone sax and violin. They introduced themselves as Richard and Anna Savery (Anna’s in the program as Anna Okunev in the trio Sweet and Savery). This was classical chops applied to jazz, easy sequences, extended ranges, long arpeggiated phrases, double stop string accompaniment. The classical training was clearly evident on violin. I’m not sure of baritone sax as a classical instrument, but Richard had chops too. Classical players don’t swing quite like jazzers, but they worked through the Real Book with ease and took requests. I suggested Out of nowhere and Bluesette and they did them both. I was entertained and most impressed. Richard Savery (baritone sax) played with Ana Okunev (violin).

I really enjoyed a set by singer Ketzia Wood supported by a piano trio. Her voice was raspy and she mentioned a recent cold. I noticed no spectacular control or technique but here was the stage presence of torch singers in dark bars and the era of Lady Day. This was simple melody perfectly phrased, undemonstrative but emotively deep, of the moment, shimmering movement and guiltlessly seductive. I’m not sure the women would have responded quite the same, but Ketzia had presence. She sang the likes of Embraceable you and I’m old fashioned. What else?

As good as the best were our Canberra mates, Angela Lount and the Fedoras. Perhaps this is no surprise. They are classy professional players who gig often and are deeply ensconced in the music scene as both performers and teachers. This was easy presence and informality with chops. Dan McLean and James Luke shred the tunes but I just await every solo from Paul dal Broi. He sits calm and thoughtful, deconstructing the tamest of tunes into obtuse and edgy re-harmonisations and occasional streams of melodic thought. You wouldn’t expect it from this playlist – Blue skies, Autumn leaves, Georgia – but these guys are hot and the outcome is downright interesting. Angela Lount (vocals) led the Fedoras comprising Dan McLean (flugelhorn), Paul dal Broi (piano), James Luke (bass) and Mitch Preston (drums) sitting in.

I caught the Wonderdogs and they are good. This is very well practiced trad-styled entertainment with considerable fluency. Tight, with modern presence and chops. Wonderdogs are Andrew Jack (trumpet), Ian Christensen (reeds), Greg Simmons (banko), Alex Wilson (bass) and Bill Lawler (drums).

Finally Merimbula 1

It must be the very professional concert series called the Melbourne Jazz Festival that causes the conflicts with the much more community-level Merimbula JF. I have been booked to go to the last two Merimbulas. Two years back, an incredible weekend of Ron Carter, Jason Moran, Kurt Rosenwinkel, Dan Tepfer and others intervened. I hoped for a similar collection at Darling Harbour last year. No such luck but I’d pulled out. This year, I was committed and again there was a clash: Tony Malaby (NYC: Charlie Haden, Paul Motian, Fred Hirsch) and David Ades playing Saturday night just 2 minutes walk from my house, no less. So Merimbula has a history for me, despite this being my first visit.

Merimbula is 3 hours from Canberra and a standard East coast seaside town. The weekend started cold, with brilliant sun but frigid winds. As I arrived there was traffic chaos with two accidents. One car was on its side just metres from my residence. I started the weekend by registering and orienting myself. For a little town, there’s a bit of walking between venues and a few hills. I got to four venues (6 stages) and missed one venue that’s not walkable. There’s a good deal of trad jazz here, the standard street parades and Saints marching and massed brass and some banjos and even New Orleans-costumes in frilly green to match the be-ribboned balloons decorating each venue. It’s also a town out to capitalise on an event (mayors really should keep some things to themselves, but economics has become the lowest common denominator of citizenship these days) and several thousand visitors enjoying some decent music and a few beers. There’s a spattering of ANU students I know, and a new generation that I don’t. There are many bands out of country Victoria and they are new to me. There are quite a few big bands but I missed most. There were eight stages running hourly gigs from noon to midnight. Given considerable choice, I decided just to take a relaxed approach, mainly hanging out at the Sapphire Club and write up only a few bands that took my fancy.

The Clark Spillane Quintet was led by bassist Steve Clark with singer Colleen Spillane. This was a classy, relaxed standards band playing the mainstream: There will never be another you, At last, Polkadots and moonbeams, Time after time. They added a few pop numbers: Masquerade (of course) but also Walk on by, which suited Colleen’s voice to a tee. I also discovered a lovely new ballad, I think it was Watch what happens. I admired Colleen’s well controlled voice and fitting vibrato and the band was relaxed and steady. Nice also to hear Canberra pianist Mark Bolsius. The Clark Spillane quintet was out of local town Candelo and comprised Steve Clark (bass), Mark Bolsius (piano), Matt Dixon (guitar), Ken Varcher (drums) and Colleen Spillane (vocals).

I just caught the end of the Army Band Jazz Ensemble gig: only one last song, Perhaps. First off, it seemed tame, but then there was growing tension, dissonance and a feverish drum solo and a denouement ending. I was chatting, so it was just in one ear, but I wish I’d heard more. Never take the Army for granted.

Calling it a day

It was the last tour for a venerable Tokyo String Quartet. They were once again touring for Musica Viva and performing in our Llewellyn Hall. We got program no.2 which was perhaps the tamer of the two: Sculthorpe, Mozart and Schubert. The sound of a string quartet was pretty small for such a large space – it is a chamber format, after all, and that is a very large chambre – but they filled it reasonably well. I can find strings alone a bit grating and this had elements of that, although only at times. And catching each of the lines was a struggle. The outliers were obvious enough – first violin was clear and individuated, as was the cello at the other end of the spectrum, but picking out viola and second violin was not so easy. Perhaps I shouldn’t have expected to: their roles are more harmonic and supportive. When I did notice the second violin, it was echoing the first, and I realised its tone was spectacularly different. Otherwise, I enjoyed the tonal variation of different instruments as they played unison or in harmony, usually in support of the first violin: cello/viola was common, or viola/2nd violin or maybe both with cello. But it was surprising how often the cello had a significant part, too. This was not just a bass accompaniment. Perhaps by nature or perhaps by youth, the first violin and cello were prominent and firmer. But this is a moderate quartet: no particular hype or front. A pleasant chat and quick entrances and exits. They let the music speak.

The first set was Sculthorpe String Quartet no.16. It has bird sounds (glissandoed cello harmonics on three strings) then expanses that spoke to me of sea and maybe country. The program says it’s a response to asylum seekers and that it freely using an ancient Afghani love chant and responds to loneliness, anguish, yearning and dreams of a free-life. Then a lighter piece with classical formality, Mozart String Quartet no.20 in D major (Hoffmeister) with a sonata-form first movement, followed by Minuet, slow adagio and lively allegro movements, all sweet with charming melody. Schubert String Quartet no,15 in G major followed the interval. This is four movements that have drama and recurrent themes and considerable variation and complexity demanding concentration, but there’s a feel of brilliant society distance about it, spoken of in the notes as “within the gilt frame of the historical bourgeois ‘Biedermeier’ character of his time”. This is intelligent and demanding music with calm and social graces.

Tokyo String Quartet are Martin Beaver (first violin), Kikuei Ikeda (second violin), Kazuhide Isomura (viola) and Clive Greensmith (cello). They performed on their final tour, after 40 years on stage, for Musica Viva at the Llewellyn Hall. The program was Sculthorpe String Quartet no.16, Mozart String Quartet no.20 in D major (Hoffmeister) and Schubert String Quartet no,15 in G major.

Calling the Beat

I was embarrassed that Beat Kaestli had to correct me on the pronunciation of his name, but it must be common. He’s a jazz singer, originally from German-speaking Switzerland, once a scholarship student at Manhattan School of Music and a NYC (now Dumbo) resident of 20-years, so I wouldn’t have been alone in guessing Beat was a nickname (Beat as in Groove). But he’s actually Beat as in Euro-vowels: Bay-at is perhaps closest in a non-phoenetic script. But that’s by-and-by. What mattered was that he was at the Loft, singing two sets with accompaniment from Jonathon Zwartz and Jackson Harrison. There were no drums (although they had played a gig with Andrew Gander in Sydney), but there was groove to die for. This was a clear and crisp sound, unhurried and with groove from the depths. Beat is a substantial man, tall and well built. You could hear it in his full voice as he dropped lower, but he’d also sing to higher notes, always gently formed with soft attack and measured sustain. He sang some scat although not much and it was great when he did it, but I heard his improvisation more in interpretation and phrasing. His lines would move over the beat, before or behind, but it wasn’t an obtrusive thing. I remember reading that Miles studied Sinatra for his phrasing. I imagine it’s a singer’s thing, and being voice, it’s human and unobtrusive. Thinking back, Jonathon was also singing as he soloed, and that was also melodic and unforced. It’s something of voice. Beat also had the loudest finger snap I think I’ve ever heard. Just a sharp, regular, perfectly timed snap that resonated and drove with the rhythm. This rhythm was so strong, what with Beat’s finger snap and Jonathon’s busy and expressive pizzicato. It was his right hand work that defined Jonathon’s playing for me this night, playing around the groove, holding funky ostinatos or breaking up latin or swing with all manner of syncopations. There were fills and runs and various harmonic inventions, too, but the groove was the essence and it was so strong. And that voice that accompanied his bass solos, making for more lyrical and intuitive lines. I just tried it while practising this morning and it worked for me. There’s something special in singing with solos. Jackson had rhythm, too, of course, but his was more contrasting, moving over or against the beat, comping chords, adding tension and lifting complexity. He could be pretty exploratory, and once or twice I lost his intention, but his role was more as the provider of harmonic wealth. Piano is an orchestra in a box, and we got a feast of blues inflections and melodic invention and various harmonic contortions.

The repertoire was obviously songs. Beat mentioned his CDs and took songs from several. One CD is an exploration of European song; another is a return to the American songbook. We got a bit of both and also crossovers. He observed that Americans are easy appropriators (no worries there: it’s a basic means for progress in the arts) before he sang a medley of I wish you love and the Euro original that it was came from. He sang in several languages. He sang lyrics that he’d written and originals by mates. He sang Invitation and L’amour and Besame mucho and Round midnight and Sarah Vaughan’s Day in day out. There was a conflict with the Gods and the turnout was small, but we got a feast of singing and airy groove that I’ll remember with affection. I don’t like to pass up the international and NYC visitors. Here’s one good reason why.

Beat Kaestli (vocals) sang with the accompaniment of Jackson Harrison (piano) and Jonathon Zwartz (bass) at the Loft.

One back for Wagner

Gossips played a gig yesterday for the C100 celebrations. I don’t list every gig, but I do when we have someone new sitting in. Brenton’s in NYC or thereabouts, so we played with Steve Richards on drums and that went well. He’s got some time at Sydney Con as well as musicals under his belt. I’d written about one of his musicals here – West Side Story at the Q. His wife was there, too, in the West Side Story pit and at the gig today. She’s Carly Brown, a horn player with the CSO, so we had a knowing audience. It was Carly and 3 horn-playing mates who were blasting Megan and me in the wings the other day at the Wagner rehearsal at Llewellyn. She had it coming to her! Nice gig, though.

Our own local Nobel

Brian Schmidt is everybody’s favourite scientist these days given his Nobel Prize. There were murmurs of approval at Brian Brown, the previous month, when Brian’s name was mentioned as the next speaker, but then, Brian’s session didn’t end up as well attended (politicians make better saints for most people than do scientists). Brian was speaking on Evidence and Politics.

He ran through a series of arguments from the sciences and I found them mostly unarguable. Science is a process that makes predictions based on available data and this data is the evidence. The test is that it (predictions, technology) works. Scientists always question theory and evidence and this is not appreciated by the public or politicians. There are limits to evidence but there are mechanisms to decide “beyond reasonable doubt”. Once you introduce emotion to science, “you’ve lost the battle”. Politics is different; it requires compromise and ethical/moral judgement. He ran through some examples. Newton and Einstein and how we’ll never have the ultimate theory. Out technology is based on scientific deductive reasoning, and this is what gives us our modern life. We like our lives now: 700 years back “life suck[ed]”. So science works. He suggested predictions can be used for social matters and it’s also useful to recognise when “we have no idea”. His other examples may have challenged the audience: nuclear energy; coal seam gas; Murray Darling water; light rail in Canberra; fisheries; saving the Great Barrier Reef. By implication, he suggested both sides were not seeing the big picture. (FWIW, I agree).

He discussed probability and the public’s lack of comfort with it. Climate change was the obvious example: 90% certainty from evidence; 99.9999..% certainly of the underlying physical model. He confirmed that we’ll know better in 25 years … but it may not be a pleasant position to be in by then. He brought up the interesting diversion of electrons in the quantum world, that we can’t be certain of their location at any time although we can be (virtually) certain that our arms will rise when we wish, and if they don’t it’s not due to quantum physics. (Scientists have a nice wry humour about very big issues). He questioned the role of debaters and prominence given by the media and others in climate change and other contentious topics. Debaters manipulate uncertainty for an unaware public. He mentioned an obvious name, but I won’t. Debate is good, of course, but only where people genuinely understand, so a consensus of informed people is the most likely to be correct. This is where he enters into practical politics, suggesting Consensus Expert Panels to advise politics. This is not a common approach in Australia and it’s a weakness. He gave the example of the Australian Fisheries Management Authority and its super-trawler decision being rolled. This may or may not be the best result, but the process has damaged the role of expert opinion. Brian knows something of this. His father was a fisheries regulator in Alaska and he’d had decisions overturned by politics. In this context, his father considers Australian fisheries to be the best managed in the world. Undermining the decisions of any independent advisor (by either side) leads to poorer decisions. If advisors aren’t independent, deal with that, but don’t roll decisions for political reasons.

I was stunned to hear of the expert committee investigating coal seam gas, set up under legislation with a budget of $150m pa (10% of the total research budget for Australia?!?!?!?!?!?!). Brian’s answer was a body like the National Research Council in the US. The NRC collects evidence and advises government with about 50 reports pa at a cost of … ~$150m pa. These bodies are willing and ready to share expertise, so a standing committee for widespread advice could cost far less than the single committee for coal seam gas. Brian suggested $20m pa. What a sensible suggestion! Politicians may start off with good intentions but our bitter, professional politics dirties what it touches. This is a very disheartening period for politics: one side that plays the emotional card (very well) and opposes all; the other side that seems incapable of arguing its case; the public increasingly despairing and despising them both.

Back to questions for Brian. Is the Australian media complicit? A: Not really, they are just commercial organisations. I didn’t quite agree with this response. At least one paper seems to have been run for ages without profit, presumably for political influence. An ANU law lecturer questioned the use of “Beyond Reasonable Doubt” in this context. He hadnt used it in a strict sense; she highlighted the structure of courts with judges to mediate and confirm proper practice. Someone asked about “muddling through” as an approach to politics. A: It’s a bad strategy when stakes are high, like with Climate Change. There was inevitable discussion of teaching kids about probability and evidence. A: Should kids be opt out of maths and science and the rest. I certainly hear plenty of poor logic and unrecognised assumptions these days and wonder if return to a more traditional, classical education would help. Someone asked about pilot programs. A: They are sensible when issue are “murky” but require the best evidence to design them and they benefit from multiple pilots. Someone asked about balancing evidence with other values. This seemed strange to me: surely evidence is not a value; rather, it’s value-free. I was interested how Brian responded. His wife is an economist. He suggested many processes (cause-effect links) in economics are clear but the ethics of moving equity around is contestible on moral/ethical grounds (eg, efficiency vs. distribution). Also, individuals can remain free (eg, to smoke), but given the costs of their actions are clear at the social level (health costs), actions at that level are justifiable (heavy taxes). I found this good, clear thinking. The last question was on scientists in Parliament. Interestingly, Brian wasn’t worried about that. He noted that the two professions require different skills. Also that under a Westminster system a politician must be prepared to argue positions s/he doesn’t believe in, and “I couldn’t do that”. I can understand that.

I didn’t find anything particularly new, although I enjoyed several observations and I despaired with him over some of the examples he raised. I liked the suggestion of a moderately funded and internationally-connected National Research Council. Good on evidence, I reckon.

Let me mention my encounters with Brian. Astronomy is one of my lifelong interests. Before Stromlo burned, I was a member of RAPT*, a group of amateur astronomers gathering data for professionals at Mt Stromlo Observatory. Brian was one of our professional advisors/leaders. We’d taken part in the discovery of extra-solar planet ~no.9 and Brian had called us together to explain. It ended up with the group members listed as authors for an article in Nature (!). Also, I remember my stunned surprise one morning when I woke to read on the front page of the Canberra Times that the expansion of the Universe was accelerating, not decelerating. This was the work of a team on the Hubble led by Brian. That led to his Nobel and the rest is history.

PS: *RAPT was the Reynolds Amateur Photometry Team. RAPT was using the 30” Reynolds telescope at Stromlo to track light curves of Macho candidates to inform on dark matter. Basically, dark matter makes up 90% of the mass of the universe. This is known from speed of rotation of galaxies (another story). The theorised explanations were machos and wimps (wonderful physicist humour). Machos are Massive Compact Halo Objects, basically Jupiter-sized objects that we don’t see optically, but we can observe as they cause gravitational lensing of more distant visible objects. Wimps are Weakly Interacting Massive Particles, basically neutrinos that pass through everything and so are difficult to observe. The question is what proportion of each of these are out there. A team on the 50” Great Melbourne Telescope at Stromlo was observing ~20 million stars per night to find candidate Macho objects (by observing changes in brightness in two colours of stars in the Megallanic Clouds). RAPT would track the light curves of candidate objects in more detail. MACHO light curves would be the same in different colours (unlike variable stars that change brightness through inherent physical processes). As I remember, they expected ~20 Macho objects pa, but found ~6pa, suggesting that some part of dark matter was Machos, but some part was something else. Our extrasolar planet was a spike in the light curve of one of these Macho candidates. In the end, the RAPT team also worked on other projects, including Gamma Ray Bursters and supernovae. It’s a ridiculously small part to play in the development of knowledge, but I look back on it fondly.

Brian Schmidt was leader of a team working on the Hubble Space Telescope to better quantify the speed of expansion of the Universe. He used Type 1A supernovae to determine distances which he them matched with speed of recession (from red shift) to determine change in speed. Physical properties of these supernovae allow astronomers to dertermine their absolute luminosity, so their apparent brightness informs us of their distance. In another delightful twist on language, astronomers refer to these and other objects with knowable absolute luminosity as secondary candles and use them to determine distance in the universe. All this, and uninformed fools still persist in questioning scientific consensus on issues including global warming.

I’d have to hunt for the Nature article, but RAPT got written up for a more mainstream audience in Planet pay dirt, by Cheryl Jones, in The Bulletin, 17 Mar 1998, p.22-23.

Berlin comes to Canberra

Berlin didn’t come for the C100 celebrations. This was just a home-coming gig for Reuben after a year in Berlin. He was one of a considerable Canberra and Australian contingent over there over recent times. It’s quite a centre of experimental and jazz music these days. Reuben’s in town for a few months before heading off to Melbourne. He was a significant figure in his time in Canberra, and the attendance at this concert is just a confirmation. This was a great concert. I was surprised how comfortably the band settled back in, and also that Reuben hadn’t played with Evan before. You wouldn’t have known. This was wonderful music.

They started with a piece of Berlin art: a 30 minute free improvisation. It’s a demanding form for player and listener but this was easy. The time passed almost without thought. Fluttering trumpet and various noises with or without mouthpiece; ardent drumming with a consistent kick that was so loosely tuned; chordal or single notes from guitar; even or bouncing bow and tonal-centre-free bass walks and clear bass tones. I felt there was a touch of unreadiness to end when due, but this was a masterful display.

Then an interval and doing the rounds for Reuben and the others, then a set of more approachable tunes, from earlier CDs, mostly written by Simon, but also two by Reuben and one from Tomasz Stanko. These were all very well presented and soloed over and they were a very mixed bag stylistically: reggae and jazz and Moroccan and even country touches. Improvised and malleable in interpretation but always with the strongest of grooves. The mix of popular approachability with the jazz skills opens the music to many ears and maintains the substance, even if some of the jokey presentation may disown it. I was floored by the simple beauty of several of Matt’s guitar solos, using chords and single notes, clearly formed and unsustained notes with an edge of distortion, that spelt out inevitable melody that would grace a country lament. Reuben would play with tone and noise then drop into similar lyricism. The rhythms were churning underneath, spelt out by bass and drums, but also by offset chords from guitar. The groove was absolutely steady but implied and richly embellished although sometimes Simon would drop back on a repeating pattern or atonal walk. He only took a few solos, but they, too, would sit relaxed, exploring the highest notes or dropping in a scalar line. Intelligent and tasteful playing all round. Miro sat in for a few tunes, too, so we got his fast exploratory work contrasting against Reuben’s flugelhorn phrasing.

How good was this? Both entertaining with the reggae and the rest and roiling grooves and relaxed but exploratory soloing. Berlin has done good for Reuben, but Canberra seems to have done good for the others, too. Great gig! Reuben Lewis (trumpet, flugelhorn) led a trio with Simon Milman (bass) and Evan Dorrian (drums) then a quartet adding Matt Lustri (guitar) and a quintet with Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet).

Sydney comes to Canberra

The SSO were in town for C100. Or to put it without acronyms, the Sydney Symphony Orchestra were on a regional tour and visited Canberra for our 100th birthday celebration. Apparently this was their first visit for 10 years. They played at the Llewellyn Hall. I was interested to hear this outfit. James spoke highly of the musicians. I’d only heard the SSO in the Opera House, and that’s big and impersonal and not renowned for its acoustics, but I know Llewellyn and I’ve been hearing the CSO and other orchestras recently, so my ears are more attuned. Also, they were playing another Beethoven symphony and I’m still (in my classical innocence) marking them off.

James was right. These guys are very, very good and I’m not at all surprised: they are full time professionals in a standing orchestra; they are performing every few days; Australian musicians are capable and well trained. I sat in three spots for three pieces: two in the dress circle and one in the stalls under the dress circle. I was surprised by how differently it sounded. The orchestra wasn’t large so I thought this was why they sounded tame and thin upstairs, but they were suddenly full and satisfying and comfortably loud under the arch. I also heard the sound as quite unbalanced when I was upstairs: heavy on bass and lacking on higher strings. They played Stravinsky, Brahms and Beethoven. My favourite was Stravinsky’s lively highlights from Pucinella: more modern with more complex and choppy rhythms and a comical segment of bass and trombone. Then Brahm’s Violin concerto Op.77 in D. This was complex, perhaps turgid, quite difficult to follow (not just my observation). I listened for the violin solo that has become the written standard. It’s a strange habit of classical music, that improvisations have become written parts. I was disappointed that I often lost the solo violin when the orchestra entered. I wondered if this was violin volume or a function of the upstairs acoustics. I was just a little uncomfortable with this piece. Then interval and a return with Beethoven’s (Pastoral) Symphony no.6, Op.86 in F major. I was seated downstairs and right from the first notes I could hear comfort and confidence with its simple melodies and evident variations. Not that it was my favourite, but it was beautifully played and an unforced composition. The idyll of the countryside was a favourite theme at that time, all birds and pastures and and thunderstorms. It seemed a pretty easy piece to perform although there were some devastating bass lines in the thunderstorm sequence. Maybe the orchestra just made it look easy. The orchestra (and two extra horns) played on with an encore on Handel's Water music. Who can help but love a fusillade of brass?

So, the program wasn’t immensely challenging but I was mightily impressed by the orchestra. They sounded beautifully together and from the right vantage point they were full sounding and well balanced and their phrases passed easily between players and melded into a lovely whole. I was thinking of how I would express their character, though. They played beautifully and accurately together, but perhaps clinically. Maybe it’s professional musos who play daily and are performing a pretty mainstream program. Maybe it’s the nature of a modern concert hall compared to the ornamented box-like concert halls of Europe. Maybe it’s an Australian take on music with a German character: shared professionalism and skills but different culture. It seemed clinical and correct to my ears but I don’t mean that as a value judgement. I was mightily impressed by the SSO and very glad I attended this concert.

Jessica Cottis (conductor) led the Sydney Symphony Orchestra with members of Sydney Sinfonia. Katerina Nazarova (violin) played the Brahms concerto. The pieces were Stravinsky Pucinella suite, Brahms Violin concerto and Beethoven Symphony no.6 in F Op.69 (Pastoral).

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.