SOSat arvo 1-2

Next up, Annette Krebs dancing her way through delicious tones, gathered from various noisemakers and metal sheets and even clockwork toys, all designed within MaxMSP (if I have the conceptualisation of process right) and controlled by a pair of tablets. The sounds were intriguing and delightfully modified and Annette's frolicsome accompaniment was engagingly par for the course. Then a few Aussies again: Canberrans Ben Drury and Brian McNamara with Queenslander Michael Norris on electronics. All drones and hits and noises and sonic presence and some explosive bass from Ben. Then, for me, the unexpected excitement of the day: a performance of the Workshop ensemble. I had little awareness of the session and no expectation to play, but I'm easily convinced (just ask!). For me, it was the excitement o returning to the wonderful Alex Steinback grand, just tuned. Whatever consonance or otherwise, it just sounded a dream. The problem I found was to play it quietly amongst quiet passages. My approach was advice from the previous day: know when to end; respond to others; show dynamics. My input was somewhat minimalistic, with a recurring line to pull a piece together and some daring to play in response. So tune no.1 was formed around a Cmin pattern with moves to D; Tune no.2 was a fast-repeated F note with patterns through the octave and later flourishes over white and black note for tonal colours. Much fun and thanks to my co-conspirators.

Continuing ... Annette Krebs (objects) played first. Ben Drury (bass), Brian McNamara (invented instruments) and Michael Norris (electronics) played second. The Workshop Ensemble (vocals, piano, flugelhorn, guitar, electronics, invented instrument) played third. SoundOut 2020 Saturday afternoon at the Drill Hall Gallery.

SOSat arvo 1-1

This was SoundOut 2020, Saturday afternoon session. As always, there was a mix of performers local and Australian an foreign. We all expect the ringins from OS to be the exciting ones, and they often are, of course, being the stars invited and presumably supported by their embassies. I was particuarly looking forward to Achim, Frank and Wilbert who had massively impressed me with a short informal perfomance in the workshop, but that was for the evening. I arrived to hear a trio of sax, sax and vocals/electornics from Rhys, Richard and Tony Osborne. Nice, flowing, nuanced with tones and noises. Then Peter Hollo, cellist with electronics. I checked out his web page: he records postfolkrocktronica as Raven, has played classical with AYO and more and pop with Deborah Conway, the Whitlams and more, os he has chops. It showed in his playing with an awareness of melody and traditional techniques, nicely embellished with electronics and loops and the like. I heard yearning, distance, lovely acoustic cello tone, and later some tongue taps and what seemed quite like a constructed compostion. Nice. Then on to a feature trio, Dylan Van der Schyff, Elisabeth Harnick and our own local, Jess Green. A power trio: high energy from the opening; exciting and varied; quick insectoid flourishes form Jess; all manner of tones from dismantled kit and standard techniques from Dylan; scrapes and noises from within the piano into effusive keyboard with indeterminate harmony from Elisabeth. A huge pleasure.

Rhys Butler (alto), Richard Johnson (soprano) and Tony Osborne (vocals, electronics) played first. Peter Hollo (cello, electronics) played second. Dylan Van der Schyff (drums), Elisabeth Harnick (piano) and Jess Green (guitar) played third. SoundOut 2020 Saturday afternoon at the Drill Hall Gallery.

Riddle time

What's the difference between the LNP government and SoundOut? One is organised to do nothing; the other is not organised but does lots. My joke. But there could be other lines: one lies, one doesn't; one cares, one doesn't; one has art, one has PR. It could go on. One has staying power; one destroys it. As in, SoundOut is in is nth year; Australia and the world is entering climate end times. I got to one of two Friday workshops at SoundOut. The band opened: a trio of piano, bass, alto sax from Netherlands/Germany: Achim, Wilbert and Frank. Frank was playing my other bass and it sounded loud, alive, inspired in his (meaty, strong) hands. The interaction was to die for. I'll look forward to hearing them again in concert over coming days. There was discussion after: about personality, not ego, as a requirement; about long term playing and their backgrounds (rock, reggae through some conservatoriums and jazz and some self-teaching); about long term playing, but how they connected from the first time playing together; about tone and techniques; about some more ethereal things, like a performers' playing resonating within as colleague so "all [is] one", or "what he plays is already me", "be empty", time and space and resonance, the end of sounds all merging into one music. And that all the technique needs to be there, ready for instant use, when you are aware the time had passed and "when it becomes a trick [not an imbibed practised capability], don't play it". Then a few small bands playing and comments. I was with the first on piano, performing with soprano sax, Wilbert on bass, electronics. I enjoyed the first part, playing with tonality and atonality and intervals and trying to listen. Perhaps we didn't realise an end, but then I'm not sure we understood the expectations and norms of the performance [certainly I didn't]. Comments were about listening, dynamics, interaction, knowing an end. Mmm. Interesting, I must do more, and piano (or this piano) feels good for me for this music. Bu these are just my mutterings. Next group was alto, flugelhorn, e-bass and electro-acoustic percussion. Again, finding the endings and relating (as in dancing together) were the big comments. They have ears, these players. We can test ours further over the weekend.

A trio of Achim Kaufmann (piano, Germany), Wilbert De Joode (bass, Netherlands) and Frank Gratkowski (alto sax, Germany) presented a workshop at SoundOut 2020 at the Drill Hall Gallery.

Throwing off chains

Spartacus was the gladiator who led the Third Servile war against the class-owning oligarchy during the Roman Republican era. Thus does Ronny model himself, the servile drummer at the whim of the overlords. As a bassist, I think he might have something there, but of course it's in some jest. The serious intent is to centralise the drums in this music, so the Spartacus Collective is a "quartet of solo drumset with instrumental accompaniment". Intriguing! They were to play at the Sydney Festival but that was canned. Lucky for us, because they played Smiths and it was intriguing and enveloping music, largely improvised although gathered within some indicative written lines or harmonic concepts (Two up, two down featured melody in two keys) or rhythmic grooves. It must have served Ronny well, because I think this is the most exciting I've heard him. Maybe in part because some of his drum influences got airings: To Elvin (as a verb) is an obvious reference but another to the "big, spacey, rich" drumming on Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska album is not so obvious). Each player had charts, but the improv was long and evident. Jess was excellent at setting the space for this, regular in form with occasional punctuations and embellishments, clear in tone and often quizzical in melody and often counting in changes or recurrences of a melody. John and Miro were their fully expected exploratory selves: thoughtful, informed, searching for relevance. The fairly rare "heads" featured harmonies between these two front-liners. My guess was John improvised harmony to Miro's melody, but not sure; maybe it was written. It was not a long night: Ronny had five charts and they added an improv leading to a mobile African groove from Jess, her song Jerboa, written about an animal that's shared between South Africa and Australia (and perhaps more widely: do extant animals date back to Gondwana? I must look that up). Interesting, too, that they played without PA. This was wildly exploratory yet not at all disoriented, improvised and clearly authoritative, responsive despite limited instructions. A great night that had me deeply absorbed. Lucky us for Sydney's cancellation.

Spartacus Collective is a project of Ronny Ferella (drums, compositions). The Canberra contingent comprised Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet), John Mackey (tenor) and Jess Green (guitar).

Baring souls

This was a wonderful, touching, personal concert featuring two wonderful, capable jazz-trained singers singing mostly their own compositions. Most singers in jazz are women. Not sure why but maybe the pitch fits. The higher pitches seem more honoured, the sopranos over the altos and the tenors over the basses (although I've noticed Jesus or respected prophets were often bass, at least in the baroque era). And many women sing of personal issues as if they own that space (they so often do, and I say that with respect and even awe). This was like that. Kristin speaking of her children, writing for them; Matilda writing of love tested and explored. Familiar territory for women, perhaps, too often unknown terrain for men. Now it shouldn't be that way and the essences of women and men shouldn't be profoundly different (under my second-wave feminist awareness) but they often are. Maybe we are surfing an interim level till we reach something higher. In the meantime, I guess it holds. But on the other side, it can be revealing and that may be just the thing of love songs and nothing to matter for unknown voices on the radio, but in people you know it may be a little too much to know. Again, maybe not for women who talk lots of many things, but for emotionally-simple blokes who just drink beer together. So the topics were profound and personal (not always - Kristin's "Full on the new" was just a delicious funky take on the excitement of visiting a new town). The singing all round was to die for: Kristin more embellished; Matilda more constant. Just fabulous, delicious, skilled and detailed and careful and correct and toneful. And the accompaniment was gloriously apt although very different. Kristin was sparse but wonderfully effective with piano-like chords on a tiny midi keyboard (the key size was a test!). Matilda used electronics more, adding a second (tinier) keyboard and Ableton or the like, so more orchestral. Both were a pleasure. We were surrounded by Matilda's family and friends for her visit gig from Berlin. I took a sojourning mate from Paris/Melbourne and he commented on how nice was the mix of ages. I like that too. We both liked the whole thing lots and lots.

Kristin Berardi (vocals) and Matilda Abraham (vocals) performed at Smiths.

Great players on a great day

I caught Trio Klein Ahnung in Sydney, at Lazy Bones in Marrickville after missing their gig at Molly's in Canberra. They were a fabulously modern, lithe, expressive band, understated at times, explosive at others, all powerful musicians in their own rights but all ready to lay low when the music called. I chatted after the gig with some of the Canberra contingent, now mostly out of town, in Sydney or even as far off as Berlin. Brian Blade and ambience were mentioned as similar or stylistically influential. Yes, but. Carl is so strong and, being the guitar, the front liner in a guitar trio and he was the patter of the band on stage. I heard current Manhattan guitar but wasn't sure which one. A quick survey identified Kurt Rosenwinkel as the closest to my ear. Strong and defined notes, devastating runs, softly overdriven with some reverb or echo or both (my guess). Sam was at his expressive best, often understated, hugely expressive in lines and just nicely explosive with his own devastating runs, just sometimes. Raj was hugely understated, soft and delicate, taking just a few solos, demanding us to listen carefully to follow his delicacy. They were releasing a CD on this tour with some tracks including Sean Wayland. So this is Aussies in the world: NYC, Berlin and home. Suffice to say I was enamoured by the gig in Marrickville. They played tunes from the album but also a few standards: How deep the ocean and Without a song. I tried to count How deep... at Marrickville but failed. I noted "oddly timed", thinking they'd changed time signatures from the swung 4/4. So what a surprise when I saw a video of this same tune from the Molly gig and hearing it as a clear four. My guess is this was time implied, held in the musicians' minds but far from clearly stated, rather than formally rewritten passages. I feel it in our trio at its best, usually when we're playing pretty frequently. Time dissolves but doesn't: it's there but not evident; ready to resolve occasionally. What appeared as time rehashed was an improvised interaction. Wonderful, exemplary and a statement of the contemporary in jazz. At least to my ears. (Carl, have I got it right?) So, a great gig at a lovely, dark, seductive venue (worth a visit for the design ambience alone). Thankfully, I didn't miss this one. BTW, klein ahnung translates as "little idea".

Trio Klein Ahnung are Carl Morgan (guitar), Sam Anning (bass) and Rajiv Jayaweera (drums). They performed at Lazy Bones, Marrickville (and Molly's) while touring their new album.

The history lesson that is jazz

Jazz changes and develops through generations of players listening and learning and standing on Newtonian shoulders. I could only think that seeing another generation tonight. Evans Room is a piano trio with Adam Davidson, Hugh Magri-Bull and Evan Marshalsey. They are not even the newest generation, being variously out os school or at ANU studying, but they take their places in the history. Apparently Adam is off to Monash to study jazz. He's wonderfully capable player already and just out of school, not yet into tertiary studies. Skills like that show up early. Hugh and Evan are no slouches, at various parts of their ANU studies. I hear Hugh is an encyclopaedia on jazz performers in history, so he listens and thus learns. Another worthy - and the traditional - approach. Both were lively and informed and interesting in their accompaniment and solos. So, the traditions continue, even as this trio goes its own way. They played standards and again developed and interpreted in their own styles, again as in history. I hear their mates are slogging through the jazz studies but performing metal and funk and the rest. So jazz school is a place of integration or tolerance these days. Maybe that's different? Dunno. But whatever, they played well.

Evans Room comprised Adam Davidson (piano), Evan Marshalsey (bass) and Hugh Magri-Bull (drums) and played at Molly's.

Rivalry

They are big names to have here in Canberra, at our NGA, Matisse and Picasso, but I was surprised at just how much came from our own collection. I recognised a few of the works but not all that were ours, maybe because they were mainly prints, interestingly a few times in book form, so perhaps not quite so memorable. And there was a mix of other works from overseas collections - Tate, MOMA, Paris Picasso, Baltimore, Minneapolis - and local - Sydney and Melbourne and a few private collections. We'll never get masses of these works on loan (not like the modern gallery in Cologne with its collection of 900 Picassos) but this was decent while not too big, with various periods and various influences outlined back and forth. The key theme was how both these artists watched and were influenced by each other through their careers. Picasso has to remain the more challenging or more intellectual of the two with his cubist distortions and extrapolations and minotaurs. At first sight, I preferred the more sensual simplicity of Matisse (not to deny Picasso!). Nice, too, to see costumes from both of them designed for the Ballets Russes. But it was in the last room that I got the most telling vision. It was an opened book with a few whispy, squiggly lines from Matisse (excuse my pic) that so clearly described a woman's body (very few men appeared in this display!). I was stunned by the effectiveness of so little and the required craft to carry it off and the desire that obviously underlaid it. It was the old "my kids can do that" moment blown out of the water. Just a revelation.

The Matisse & Picasso exhibition is at the National Gallery of Australia until 13 April.

NLA exhibition website

Catholics getting it right

Christmas Mass is an annual pilgrimage with my Mum. This year she's over in Canberra and mass was at St Christopher's. Not the midnight mass, but the 11am mass which I guess is the same: longish and musically accompanied, and this time a huge musical pleasure. I always enjoy singing along to hymns, but these renditions had me stopping to listen. The tunes were obvious enough: O come all ye faithful, A little town of Bethlehem, We three kings, The first noel, Away in a manger, Silent night, Hark the herald angels sing. There was a responsorial psalm and a few other snippets of musical fillings. We were provided with words so invited to sing, at least with the obvious hymns. That was easy enough until the sopranos went stratospheric and complex with lovely counter melodies that I recognised but couldn't sing but admired as deeply satisfying. They got the high notes then proceeded to confound and impress with several more great arrangements. The organ was lovely and Julie Watson on trumpet featured so sweetly with gloriously soft tone and delicious counterpoint. My God! ... a response that's apt and fitting. It was maybe a little unexpected but apt in a modern, casual mass, that the parishioners clapped the music when the mass was over, then hooped and hollered after the final Handel, admittedly the mega-popular Hallelujah chorus, but done with real aplomb. I expected to enjoy some singing (if the key was right - I've found keys often haven't suited me at Catholic masses) but I was blown out by the effectiveness and satisfaction of this mass. I wasn't the only one who laughed at the joke that the Catholics don't usually do it so well. This time, they did in spades. Congrats to Julie and choir and organist.

Julie Watson (trumpet) performed with several soloists, choir and organ at St Christopher's Cathedral, Manuka, for Christmas mass.

Red shirting

Never let it be said that Maruki shirks. I've said it before and this latest concert is just further proof: Dvorak Slavonic dances 1,2,8; Gershwin Rhapsody in Blue; Tchaikovsky Symphony no.4 Fmin op.36. Anne Stevens soloed for the Gershwin then took up her normal position in the violas. The turnout was good with visitors from NCO and elsewhere and the audience was solid, partly there for Gershwin. It's a popular piece, and as I recognised while Anne worked through the syncopations and diverse key signatures, not easy. It wasn't too bad for the orchestra (although I was pleased to get the offbeat triplet scalar runs towards the end: they were a doozy). The big challenge was kept for the Tchaikovsky, especially the first movement. At first blush, the fourth movement looked scary with its quick semi-quaver scalar sequences, but the varied syncopations of the first movement were killers. The time was 9/8 feel at a reasonable speed so that was not the issue but the dotted feels were. As for the bowing, that can await my next take on this very big challenge. The Dvorak was more presentable, as Dvorak seems to be. I never seem to find him an insurmountable challenge. But as always, when John puts on his threatened red shirt, we do our bit. Not perfect but decent and performance is the best way to get to grow accustomed to any piece of music. Again, a big program and a decent take on it.

Maruki Orchestra performed Dvorak, Gershwin and Tchaikovsky at Albert Hall under John Gould (conductor) with soloist Anne Stevens (piano) and Paul Hubbard (concertmaster).

Young and younger

My God, they are getting younger! We went to the Canberra Youth Orchestra last night and the soloist was a 12 year old who made the rest of the orchestra look like mid-lifers. Christian Li was little, young, wildly capable, a winner of international awards, now studying at ANAM. He played the Bruch violin concerto with confidence and clear virtuosity and an understanding which far passed his years. That was the final piece for the night. Before that, the orchestra itself had performed in full form, a decent size, and we were hugely pleased. Intonation was nice; dynamics impressive (something to learn there!); interpretation apt. Perhaps later, after interval, after we moved and could hear the full ensemble more clearly, I caught some slips or mis-pitches, but minor. The first half was under Max McBride. Then Max retired to the bass section and Rowan Harvey-Martin took the baton. First half was Enescu Romanian rhapsody no.2 and Holst Perfect fool, both little known at least to us. The Holst was quite a strange piece but entertaining in its oddities, fitting the title. The second half was Delius Walk to the Paradise Garden and Bruch Violin concerto no.1 Gmin. Most impressive all round and the group grows younger and younger. But another positive, the numbers: are they growing? It was mentioned by the hosts and I didn't hear a call for violas and basses before this concert. All round, a great listen and a positive local outlook. We hope, as the arts shrinks in governmental thoughts. Carbon prevails, I guess. Proof: the night ended with an announcement to not fret: the hall was not on fire. Just that the smoke from bushfires outside Braidwood had entered the aircon. Outside, it was smokey and ANU alarms were in whooping. Our brave new world.

The Canberra Youth Orchestra performed at Llewellyn Hall under Max McBride and Rowan Harvey-Martin (conductors) with soloist Christian Li (violin).

The pleasure of displeasure

It's hard to laugh at the state of the world these days, not least the state of Australian politics, but it's easier when you are in an obviously like-minded group. Even more so when you realise you'd missed a few things that they'd caught. That's a fairly rare occurrence for me, as I keep abreast of the news, but I'd missed that Pauline Hanson had mistaken (or misspoken?) NRMA for NRA. ScoMo mostly doesn't make such errors although his lump of coal in Parliament will never be lived down. But that was another political year, not 2019, which was what Shortis and Simpson were serenading and recounting. They are a great local treasure, or perhaps Bungendorian pleasure, but not known widely like the Wharf Review. Not quite as flash professional but equally witty. It was a sad story they had to tell, the political story of 2019, and the laughs were tragicomedy rather than belly, until their spoonerism routine came towards the end of the night. How clever was that! ... to quote another theme of the political year. Aptly they started with just that, singing "How good is Australia / How good is 2019" with ScoMo providing the first notes. As the marketer he is, he'd no doubt consider this a great success, his line searing into the thought patterns of the country. The next song was of the drought, again, searing into the thought of the country, with no thanks to the LNP. Then on through the characters, Bill and Albo and Trump. I won't give away the joke, but the decision on the relevant element for ScoMo, after he was dubbed "Man of Titanium" by Trump was a great laugh. Folau got in there with a Mark Twain quote I'd never heard "Go to Heaven for the climate, to Hell for the company". Then on through the Prince of Whales (apparently another mistake, this time by Trump, and also one I'd missed). Then horses and 11,000 climate scientists and Hawkie's demise and Boris/Brexit, of course, and the election and the surplus and School excursions to Parliament and Greta and a few shorties on Medievac, NSW Abortion bill, NBN and an encore on their home town, inviting ScoMo to Bungendor-ière. And lessons, too, for Canberra locals who drive through, about the bears and that mysterious hubcap. Well, I never! We ended in uproarious laughter but the year remains what it was. Bad and probably just getting worse.

Shortis and Simpson are John Shortis (vocals, piano, ukelele) and Moya Simpson (vocals) and they performed their annual political satire show at Smiths.

Baroque down south

I think the group Latitude 37 is from Melbourne and my check of Melbourne's coordinates semi-confirms it (-37.840935, 144.946457). Lat37 are a baroque trio but they were joined by Bendigo (?) resident Lucinda Moon on a second violin. Otherwise the band is violin, viola da gamba and harpsichord. They did a lovely concert that concentrated on Corelli (Italian, here played with a German harpsichord with good reason that was given). It included three Corelli trio sonatas, a Bach fugue on a Corelli theme, a "dissertazione" on a Corelli work by Veracini and, to finish, a work by Couperin celebrating Corelli at Mount Parnassus with the Greek muses. It's an odd invention but relevant to the times. The concert was fairly short, in one set, with explanatory chatter, mostly for four, but with two pieces for just the core trio. The effect was blissful, all soft gut strings and short movements and fairly simple statements and internal dynamics within phrases and notes, something that appears to my ear more in the style and with gut. It was stately but not evidently aristocratic. Just lovely, personal and immediate. The playing was a pleasure. Interesting, too, to compare the two violins. Visitor Lucinda's was clearly softer than leader Julia's so they were quite distinct and identifiable. I don't expect much Baroque was played at lat.-37 in those days and not quite even at lat.+37. Rome is +~41, but Palermo gets close at +38. Corelli was near enough.

Latitude 37 performed at Wesley. Lat37 comprises Julia Fredersdorff (baroque violin) Laura Vaughan (viola da gamba) and Donald Nicholson (harpsichord), this night with guest Lucinda Moon (baroque violin).

Nothing to prove

Some people have nothing to prove and it's lovely to see and hear them. Mike Nock has earned that position with his long term influence here and overseas. He's joyous, capable, relaxed, knowing and apt in his interpretations. It's easy, never forced, not uncomfortable, but that's not to say it's not challenging, for it often is, or not interesting, for it certainly is. He's playing with younger offsiders these days, as could be expected. He's not so young now, although light of heart. Those offsiders are Brett Hirst and James Waples and they are easily with him, respectful of his lead but also adventurous and virtuosic while understated. All that sounds like a blissful gig and it was. The tunes had a few lesser knowns but featured a string of standards. Bernie McGann appeared in Spirit song. They started with Lady be good and Lollypops and roses and finished on Poinciana, which only became evident as the song itself after some time. Moanin' got in there. A few I didn't know were Golden earrings and Fresh water. He led with a piece that he called Curl that turned out to be a baroque piece of ~1600. I didn't catch the original title, but it sounded eminently modern as they did it. They also merged Summertime with So what and that worked a treat. What I noticed, though, was an immense respect for melody. It seemed to be present throughout his playing and to some degree from the others. It's not the thing of bebop, which takes the chords after using the melody just for a starter. This was more a consideration throughout. That interested me. And he was just a nice, chatty, jokey presence on stage, too. Again, nothing to prove except to play the music and display jazz. Great stuff and a lovely trio.

Mike Nock (piano) played with Brett Hirst (bass) and James Waples (drums) at Smiths.