Near enough to the best

“This was the best music I’ve heard”. So said a young audience member, probably an AYO student, who was sitting just beside me after the Ligetti Bagatelles. We were at the Advanced Chamber Music concert of the Australian Youth Orchestra. I must say I was verging on accord. I really loved the Ligetti, but the six pieces on the night were so varied and such an intellectual treat that I won’t pick one. This was a fabulous concert, richly varied in tone as well as style. I’d expected strings – quartets or larger groups of strings, perhaps a chamber orchestra – but this had piano, horns, clarinets, flutes, even a bassoon, so it fascinated my ear and also my intellect. Chamber just means Room, so the music is smaller and more intimate. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the range of tones. I’m also fascinated to think of chamber music in the context of an orchestra. The harmonies and counterpoint and structure are still there – eg, the first and second violins, viola and cello of the string quartet are massed in a chamber or syphony orchestra - and they retain a similar relationship but the scale is so much more intimate and the individual player is more exposed. Chamber music must be a fearful thing for an orchestral player, especially for the string players who usually sit amongst massed colleagues. Chamber musicians have real, personal voices and their music is obvious as conversation as lines pass between players.

The Schumann String quartet no.1 in Amin was what I’d expected. Lovely, scalar playing, a bouncy 6/8 first movement, a lyrical second movement and a busy third movement in common time. Nicely played, attractive, popular and not too challenging. Schulhoff’s Concertina for flute, viola and double bass was perhaps the biggest challenge of the night and a stunning twist after Schumann. It’s a modern work with unusual instrumentation. I guessed they were senior AYO performers: this piece was obviously not easy. It starts with a long and jagged melody of big intervals and moving dissonances on flute against a lengthy unison backing part from double bass and viola. The melody moves to viola and the others play the unison. Then through 4 movements culminating in what I thought was a jig. I was flummoxed by the count, left guessing at the jagged intervals and wallowing in the mobile harmony but I loved this modern richness and complexity and invention and the playing was great. I remember chuckling at one arpeggiated line that I followed from bass to viola but which sounded all the world to me as one instrument. The trio was obviously enjoying it, too. This was challenging and a real treat. The last before the interval was back to lyricism with eminently recognisable themes in Borodin’s String quartet no.2 in D. This was romantic, pastoral, lyrical, with some beautiful melody and mainly in triple time. Sharp, imploring first violin, a soft and responsive second violin, the mellower viola and deeper cello that echoed lines to each other. I was interested that the third movement felt distinctly symphonic to me, and wishing for a bigger group of performers.

After the interval were the delightful Six bagatelles by Ligetti. Bagatelles are light and playful pieces. There were 6 of these, so considerably varied. I heard beautiful and clear melodies in one, liveliness in another, reticent melody and sudden changes in another, syncopations and changed instrumental groupings and even circus music in another. Exciting and intriguing music that I wish to hear more of. Next was Shostakovitch’s String quartet no.9 in Eb. I’d loved the panoramic, epic view of the Shostakovitch symphony at that earlier AYO concert. This was similarly complex and large in scope, but I’ll remember it for untiring activity: syncopations, staccatos, crossing rhythms, various solos for all the instruments, lines that bounced, bows that bounced, bow hairs that hung limp after shredding with the energy of it all. This was constant activity and exhaustive in dissection. Stunning music played with great commitment. The final piece was one for the road: Dohnanyi’s Sextet Op.37. Again, this is a piece with mixed tonality – piano, two violins, cello, horn, clarinet - but the style is lyrical, romantic, lush. What a nice work to ease us to the road after some very demanding music. This felt romantic, nationalistic, march-like with lush harmonies and simple, satisfying melodies. I remember falling waterfalls of notes from the piano, the so-pure tone of the clarinet, and even some swing-band-like clarinet melodies. This was not trivial music, but it was one to relax the soul. It’s not surprising that it was here I thought how wonderful are these musicians who will commit so much time and discipline to such beauty. Music is a hard task master. This music was gloriously beautiful with a soft underbelly.

And so another concert ends. I’m commenting lots on variety and I expect this will be my theme for AYO2012. The playing has been great, but the choices have been modern and varied: great for listening and performer alike.

Looking aggressively, not

Classical percussion concerts are surprisingly delightful things. I got to one this evening by the Australian Youth Orchestra Percussion Ensemble. I’m always amazed that these batterers learn the keyboard, and wonder what it is that groups marimba or vibraphone with the far more earthy skinned drums. I assume it’s just that they are hit. Piano strings are also hit, and pianos are also described as percussion instruments, but they are not hit with a stick or a mallet and they are not played by percussionists. I was amused the description of his art by one of the percussion tutors: “hitting, bowing, scraping … or just looking at something aggressively”. It’s not at all true - lots of percussion is soft and detailed and we heard drums voiced with the gentlest of taps tonight – but it fits the image and it’s amusing. They seemed to joke aggressively too, or at least frequently. Is aggression a characteristic of percussionists? From the looks and sound of them, it was very far from my impression. So how was the performance?

I’d use words like light, sweet and even discursive to describe this performance. There was some groove but not much was intense or danceable. The first tune was probably the strongest groove. This was Ritmica no. 5 (1930), Afro-Cuban music by Cuban composer Amadeo Roldan. Early, it was delightful with a quiet but busy interplay of multiple instruments - bongos, cowbells, toms, a range of Cuban percussion - but then, several times, it came to a stop with insistent unison quarter note hits from the deep toms. I heard this like African jungle drums, talking drums, a complex interplay of simple patterns. The next tune was Canticle no.1 (1940) by Lou Harrison, a student of Schoenberg and collaborator of John Cage. This was introduced as intricate through the overlapping of simple rhythms. I heard is as intellectual, less bodily, with a clear influence from gamellans and again with a structure in several parts with stops and starts. Third was an original compostion, tagged as an improvisation but pre-composed by the performers, Rhapsody on a theme (2012). I missed some details, but the process went something like this: the students were provided with a 4-bar theme around Christmas and asked to develop a 212-bar (?) part. They then put them together and perhaps edited their parts and performed. It was busy and conflicting at times, but I enjoyed the movement between lashings of contrasting sounds, even if the piece lacked obvious structure. But huge congratulations to tutors and students for the creativity of it all. Improvisation is not a feature of the classical field and a task like this that breaks the reticence is a great exercise. The fourth tune was the longest and most complex: Gavin Bryars’ At Portage and Main (2009). Bryars is a jazz bassist, as well as a composer and student of John Cage, and you can hear the bassist approach in some of the chordal segments. This was performed on 3 marimbas, 2 vibes and various drums and cymbals. The intersection of Portage and Main in Winnipeg is supposedly the coldest and windiest corner in North America. I heard mystical rather than cold, although it could have been snow, and only once thought of a possible wind, but it was a lovely, lyrical and lengthy piece featuring the dull thuds of the tuned marimba and the ringing, metallic vibes against downy kick drum and toms and swelling cymbals. Portage and Main must be a quiet corner but it informed some attractive music. The concert ended with a very short Roldan piece, much like the first, Ritmica no.6 (1930).

So, this percussion concert was anything but aggressive. Yes, they used mallets and sticks and the like, and they hit things, but this was detailed and delicate and only once or twice letting go to forte. Quite unexpected for we new initiates.

Beyond the wait

After a quick dinner, the Llewellyn audience for the Australian Youth Orchestra’s second concert was unexpectedly reduced, although there were no doubt plenty of virtual listeners to the ABC FM live broadcast. This concert was again orchestral, this time with just three works, but consistently modern and exploratory.

The Alexander Orchestra opened with a work by the AYO Music Camp resident composer, Iain Grandage’s Out of time (2004). This was joyous and full with immense sound. Iain was interviewed after the work and spoke of it as filmic and “celebrating the music of the orchestra”. I particularly liked his intention to “write things that performers like playing”. This was clearly like that. Big and satisfying.

The Nelson Cooke Chamber Orchestra followed with a modern Swedish piece, Anders Eliasson’s Ein schneller blick … ein kurzes auscheinen (= A quick glimpse … a brief appearance, 2003). This work was meditative and slow and of a limited tonal palette. I liked the livelier final movement with cellos and basses playing off each other in contrary motion and otherwise.

The final work was the one that most interested me in this session. The Bishop Orchestra performed Shostakovitch’s Symphony no. 10 (1953). On the outside, I’d not expect to like this. It’s brooding, it’s steady and even with quaver melodies, it tells stories with regularity and tone. I wondered if this was a modern romanticism. It’s also long, lasting a full hour, but this was an hour that I hardly noticed passing. That was a hint to me. This is like Russian literature: huge with dense complexity and epic breadth that speaks deceptively easily of the human condition: like Tolstoy or Dostoievsky. It’s anchored in the time after Stalin’s death and follows Shostakovich’s denunciation and withdrawal from symphonic composition. The themes are large and the concerns and emotions are deep. People who live in the sun don’t write music like this. Great composition performed with commitment and ardour.

So ended a long but invigourating pair of concerts. It speaks well for the Camp and its attendees. The music was an intelligent and broadminded view of music of the last century with one baroque teaser. The playing was wonderfully capable, always presented seriously and with considerable verve. The hammering feet of applause from these young musicians was full of youthful enthusiasm and involvement. This was a lengthy and satisfying first outing and I’m looking forward to much more over the coming week.

The Alexander Orchestra performed Iain Grandage’s Out of time with William Conway conducting. Nelson Cooke Chamber Orchestra played Anders Eliasson’s Ein schneller blick … ein kurzes auscheinen (= A quick glimpse … a brief appearance) with director Mats Zetterqvist. The Bishop Orchestra ended the concert with Shostakovitch’s Symphony no. 10 conducted by Christopher Seaman.

Eagerly awaited

I’ve been awaiting the return of the Australian Youth Orchestra since their last National Music Camp here in Canberra two years back. We’ve only experienced day 1 of the free concert series, but we were not disappointed: two concerts, both generous in time and variety, both intriguing and energetic and with a fascinating and, at least for me, obscure repertoire. And always that energy and passion and joy that the AYO is drenched in. This year I was more aware of just how young are some of these performers. The AYO takes musicians from 14 to 30 years of age, so there are seriously young players amongst developed students and semi-professionals. And the size of this undertaking is impressive. At one time, the AYO reported using 81 rooms. The day 1 concerts were orchestral: each featuring two large symphony orchestras and a chamber orchestra. The music camp has 250 young musicians as well as programs for music admin, music journalism and more. It’s an impressive undertaking and apparently internationally renowned. So what did we hear?

Concert 1 was called Orchestral Passions Concert 1. We can excuse the dismal title because the music was great. The Nelson Cooke Chamber Orchestra started it off with a piece of dignified baroque, CPE Bach’s Symphony no.1 in C major (1773). This is music of the era: at times delicate, sometimes bumble-bee busy with rolling waves of scalar lines, a slower, pre-romantic middle movement, and a third movement that sounded sometimes tragic before a return to rolling scalar lines. Lovely! The next piece was Barber’s Adagio for strings (1936). It’s not a favourite of mine, although maybe I could come at it as part of a bigger work (it was written for that). I find the strings too unrelenting and mewling and the feel too sentimental. I could see myself appreciating it just after a War-To-End-All-Wars, but I’m just not sad enough. The chamber orchestra has 30 players and visiting European Mats Zetterqvist as director.

The Bishop Orchestra followed with Elgar’s In the South (1903/4). It’s lush and attractive and rollicking and bouncing. Everyone loved the huge, fat, sweet tuba that easily overwhelmed 8 string basses, and otherwise it was exhilarating, pastoral, grandiose and sometimes muscular. I heard propellers and jack hammers, but later realised the work was written before flight. It’s from the turn of the 20th century and clearly speaks to Victorian England, although apparently its musical references are to Italy. It’s a 20th Century work, but only just: on the border of a new world and evoking a time that’s about to disappear. Nicely done and very attractive and indelibly conservative.

The Alexander Orchestra finished this concert. First was Stravinsky’s Four etudes for orchestra (1928). It surprises me how some earlier works sound more modern than other later works. This developed, exploratory, yearning for new sounds and experiences. It starts with a quizzical march, then proceeds to tonal variations, lots of crescendos and devilishly difficult syncopations, frequent silence and sparse, jagged melodies that have one note played here, another there, and dissonant harmonies and counterpoint that still flabbergast a modern audience. I had great respect for the players here: this must have been a difficult chart. But it was so well done and a favourite. Then to finish, James MacMillan’s Confession of Isobel Gowdie (1990). Apparently it was an instant hit when premiered at the London Proms about 20 years back. This is a musical depiction of the torture and execution of Isobel Gowdie, a Scot who was tried for witchcraft in 1662. It was big and dramatic and emotional (strangely, I thought I heard bagpipes at one time!) with crescendos and sudden, massive dynamic changes. I was fascinated by an early passage of slides on the strings: strange and unearthly and very effective. Wonderful, new and dramatic, and unexpected.

Just the start, we thought, as we went off for a quick dinner. This was impressive playing and the repertoire was looking to be varied, modern and exploratory. And there’s lots more to come. The Nelson Cooke Chamber Orchestra performed CPE Bach’s Symphony no.1 in C major and Barber’s Adagio for strings and was directed by Mats Zetterqvist. The Bishop Orchestra performed Elgar’s In the South with Christopher Seaman conducting. The Alexander Orchestra performed Stravinsky’s Four etudes for orchestra and James MacMillan’s Confession of Isobel Gowdie with William Conway conducting.