Manganiyar Classroom Review - the life affirming power of community music making

My last show for the 2017 Perth Festival was the Indian theatre group The Manganiyar Classroom. It's the second in a trilogy of works by director Roysten Abel about the musically rich Manganiyar tribe. This time the show featured the Manganiyar children and I took Matthew as my guest. He was one of many kids in the audience watching children who were only a few years older share their cultural story.

The show was set up as a classroom and the children used music to protest against the education system. Two adult musicians sat to the side accompanying on the bowed khamaycha and dholak hand drum. A bell tinkled and the haunting sound of the khamaycha set the scene as the children (all boys) filed into class.

The roll call elicited musical responses from the children, much to the irritation of the teacher. "Who told you to sing? Shut up."

But the protest continued. A boy was berated for bringing a harmonium to school but he sat on the floor and accompanied himself singing while the children grouped around him to learn the song. Feet tapped, hands gestured and heads waggled as they sang.

"We are Manganiyar children," they explained, "we need music in our education."

When the teacher finally walked out the children danced on their desks in delight and began to teach each other songs. Their voices were bright and strong, confidently singing the long phrases and complicated decorative inflections.

A new teacher arrived and taught new songs using call and response. A highlight was the rhythm lesson where his khartaal (castanet) rhythms were echoed by the students on a variety of percussion instruments. The children responded with intense concentration and real joy as the layers created intricate textures. Eventually the older students brought out two enormous bass drums that shook the chairs in the theatre with deep vibrations. It was spontaneous, virtuosic music making and a powerful demonstration of the life affirming power of community music making. The audience response was ecstatic.

Abel's concern for the homogenised Indian education system and its failure to meet the needs of fringe tribes has resulted in his vision to establish a new school and education system for the Manganiyar chilrdren.

The topic resonated with me as I have been watching my six year old boy struggle with the intense fine motor skill demands, excessive homework and the confidence crushing speed of our current education syllabus. Abel described in the program notes the disturbing transformation of first generation school-educated Manganiyar children from brilliant musical kids to washed-out adolescent drop outs. I am glad the Manganiyar parents have Abel to advocate for them, to give voice to their musical gifts. And I am encouraged to do the same for my child.

Matthew's favourite part was when the children got the big drums out. He wondered where the girls were? And he wished that next time the story would be told by Australian kids so that he could understand the words. The most important part, he explained, was when the adult listened to the children and started singing with them.

Bertroffenheit PIAF review

The German word Bertroffenheit loosely translates as a sense of shock, bewilderment or impact.  Canadian writer and dancer Jonathon Young explores this state of being in a two hour contemporary dance/theatre show with choreographer Crystal Pite and the Kidd Pivot dance company.

The hidden weapon in this disturbing production is that Young is drawing from his own experience suffering PTSD after the death of his daughter in a camping accident. He uses his own artform to grapple with the question of suffering, taking centre stage as the protagonist in a very public exploration of grief.

A clinical grimy room is the set (Jay Gower Taylor) with a grim industrial soundscape (Owen Belton, Alessandro Juliani and Meg Roe) creaking in the background. Young’s voice provides the text, either live or pre-recorded, a flow of disjointed words and repeated rhetoric focused around trying to ‘come to terms with it’. Terrifying flashbacks involve strobe lighting (Tom Visser) and immense noise. The self-talk psychotherapy is exchanged for addictions as Young’s character gives in to the five dancers who have been shadowing him. He is lured into a Vaudeville show that becomes a vehicle for flashy salsa dancing from Tiffany Tregarthen and David Raymond and a group tap dance complete with bowler hats. There is a lovely connection between Young and his alter ego (?) Jermaine Spivey as they dance a vaudeville duo and use each other’s bodies as puppets.

Pite’s choreography fuses classical elements with structured improvisation, referencing a huge range of dance genres along the way. Body movements act or react in alignment with the words, quivering, twitching and writhing on the floor.

The production becomes increasingly surreal and heavy handed. The dancers hold their heads, mouth silent screams and sprint around incoherently, bodies flung about like shrapnel. The chilling sound track is relentless and I begin to wonder if there is going to be any movement towards light or growth. But in the uncomfortableness is also the truth that grief is relentless, long-winded, self-indulgent and cyclical.

The second half moves into an expressionist dance piece on a bare black stage, which Tchaikovsky might have named Dance of the Traumatised Subconscious. The soundscape is constructed from vocal samples that are stretched, distorted and hazy. The dancers move with athletic improvisatory freedom which overlaps in moments of precise synchronisation.

Young returns to the stage and revisits his memories again, this time admitting that to leave the memories would mean leaving behind people he loved. But he does leave, and as he walks away Spivey remains, moving into a virtuosic solo dance executing increasing aerial movements to a (somewhat clichéd) sweetly harmonic piano accompaniment.

Bertroffenheit is a bleak unrelenting stare at raw human grief, which, like a Tim Winton novel in its final moments gives a glimpse of light.


This review was first published by Limelight magazine February 2017.

Opus 7 review - Remembering changes the way we see

There is so much going on in this production - puppetry, music, painting, dancing, acting - I hardly know where to start. Perhaps with what was missing: there were hardly any words. Russian director Dmitry Krymov put the emphasis on the visual in his stunning two-act work Opus 7 which remembered the creativity and lives obliterated by the Nazi and Soviet regimes. The first work Genealogy traced the lives of Jewish Russians while the sister piece Shostakovich put the spotlight on the composer and his repression under Stalin.

Who needs words when there are images that can teach us how to see, to really perceive?

Krymov and his team of designers from the Moscow School of Dramatic Art heightened our visual awareness by constructing the images in front of our very eyes, literally from a blank canvas. After an unhurried prologue - a lament for peace - seven black-suited actors used buckets of flung black paint, staplers and string to transform the white cardboard backdrop into silhouettes. Or were they tombstones?

The set was constructed with playful lateral creativity. Discarded coats came alive with arms inserted, x-rays became missing appendages, the rhythm of names turned into a blues scat.
And then suddenly a multi-sensory overwhelm as bright light, smoke and a paper cannon exploded into the audience. Each piece of newspaper clipping represented one of the dead and they floated around the actors and audience like a snowstorm. Shortly afterwards air raid sirens and machine gun noise shook the floor and chairs as video projections of Russian figures vanished.

Paperstorm during Opus 7. Photos Natalia Cheban

Words were disjointed and used sparingly (mostly to name the dead – aunts, uncles, neighbours) but visual metaphors were everywhere. Glasses were worn by many of the characters, helping them and us to ‘see’. And the piles of children’s shoes with the lone man holding the hand of a cardboard child? Perhaps a reference to Janusz Korczak, the Polish orphanage director remembered for volunteering to go to the gas chamber with his children.

The actors created their own soundtrack too, singing Russian plainchant with sparse beauty, offering bursts of coloratura, breaking into scatting and constructing songs from tuba or flugelhorn solos. Their contributions were woven with snippets of Shostakovich’s music.

The second act was largely an independent work with some reappearing motivs: Dmitry Shostakovich wore glasses and was given child-like dimensions, portrayed by the diminutive actress Anna Sinyakina with fragility and resilience. The number 7 linked the two acts - not just Shostakovich’s Symphony No 7 but also the seven actors and seven pianos.

Shostakovich was depicted as trapped in an abusive relationship with Mother Russia, a grotesquely huge puppet. Shostakovich clung to her bosom, was forced to kiss her hand and ended the act smothered beneath her. He was initially encouraged to explore the piano-like structure being constructed centre stage (the black cardboard silhouettes of figures from Genealogy were the drop sheets underneath), while the music of his Piano Trio No 2 was heard in the background. But then he was rounded up with other artists (including theatre director Meyerhold, playwright  Babel and poet Mayakovsky) while Mother Russia took pot shots. Shostakovich ducked and ran and a dangerous dance unfolded as he scrambled up chandeliers and was surrounded by metal grand pianos smashing together like bumper cars, all set to the music of Shostakovich’s own waltzes. The sense of dependency and entrapment was real.

The repression of the regime was also made obvious; Shostakovich’s house was built around him from cardboard with the chandelier held in place by a spy. The metal rod in a chilling game of limbo is a visual limit to Shostakovich's growth and ultimately the stick from which he hung as a puppet.

The only words heard in the powerful sixty minutes were the words of Shostakovich himself, translated via subtitles. And of course his music: the instantly recognisable jarring combination of swagger and fear, pathos and playfulness, completing the requiem.

Opus 7 continues at the Perth Festival until February 26th. The show is sold out.

Musica Viva champions music for today

Last night's concert ticked so many musical boxes I'm not sure where to start!

Eighth Blackbird

The premiere of a work by a young woman composer was always going to grab the attention of the author of a book on Australian women composers. Holly Harrison's Lobster Tails and Turtle Soup was premiered by Eighth Blackbird, America's rockstars of classical music. Clarinetist Michael Maccaferri from the sextet described the work as extremely difficult, (even for them!) but it exploded off the page with a quirky energy that had the audience in raptures. Harrison drew inspiration from the nonsensical writing of Lewis Carol and her music captured the whimsy and madness incredibly well in a mash of extended techniques, experimental rock and blues.

with Holly Harrison shortly before her world premiere

Harrison's work sat alongside works written in the past four years by American composers Nico Muhly, Bryce Dessner, Timo Andres and Ted Hearnes. These are composers born in the 70's and 80's and young enough to be freer than previous generations of the style-police of modernist ideology - free in other words to be the composers they want to be. Yes there were plenty of modernist extended techniques and nods to minimalist composers but there were also hip hop vibes and musical conversations about contemporary art and politics.

Eighth Blackbird played with professionalism and high octane energy. As an ensemble they were tightly coordinated but also able to relax into a groove.

There was a sense of an international family, drawn together under the umbrella of the organisation Musica Viva, (with support from the Perth Festival). American performers rocking out to music by an Australian composer, with program notes by UK critic Jessica Duchen and an audience of very enthusiastic new music appreciators.

Setting up for Pre-concert talk

I admit to being pleasantly surprised at the full chairs for my pre-concert talk and the large concert hall crowd. There was an atmosphere of enthusiasm and curiosity. The questions in the post show Meet the Artist interview came from mostly elderly audience members (exploding my sterotypes!) who were keen to clarify and learn more.  Musica Viva has educated and grown an audience who do not fear the unknown.

This concert was a gift: music written today, for us, for our time.  Thank you Musica Viva for being one of the few Australian organisations brave enough to champion this repertoire.

ASQ and Arcadia a perfect match - Review

Festivals are the perfect opportunity for matchmaking and Musica Viva and the Perth International Arts Festival got it right when they paired Arcadia Winds with the Australian String Quartet. Arcadia Winds are part of Musica Viva’s new Future Makers artist development program and although they are a relatively young ensemble the collaboration felt like a meeting of equals.

 

ASQ and Arcadia at Winthrop Hall (© Appleby)

Their second of two concerts held at the University of WA attracted a good-sized audience who listened in rapt silence for a hefty 100 minutes (without interval). The program featured contemporary repertoire often considered challenging for audience members. Mozart’s Flute Quartet was the only work on the program written more than 40 years ago and made a delightful concert opener with flautist Kiran Phatak working in deft, graceful unity with the string trio. Phatak’s richly varied tonal hues in the Adagio over the delicate pizzicato accompaniment created an especially serene intimacy.

Roger Smalley is well-known to Perth audiences but his Toccata - composed at the end of his career in 2008 - was new. Written for flute, oboe and quartet, the short work opened with a quaver pattern of descending thirds followed by a long note. The motive developed into a climax and then recurred in different configurations, including as a canon and in an energetic syncopated pattern. It was a snapshot of Smalley’s taut, precise craftsmanship performed by an ensemble well-versed in modernist rhetoric.

German composer Jörg Widmann drew on Schubert’s Octet as the central reference point for his Oktett, which formed the centrepiece of the concert. The performers (string quartet plus clarinet, horn, bassoon and string bass) gave an insightful introduction to harmonics, glissandi and other extended techniques before demonstrating musically the command they have over this repertoire with a seamless blend of Schubertian romanticism with a 21^st century sound world. The opening unison chords (referencing Schubert’s unison opening) were restated with increasing dissonance growing in volume to distortion before subsiding.  The ensemble captured Widmann’s mighty orchestral swells with the clarinet or violin riding high above. The horn calls, wails and snap pizzicato of the Menuetto were delivered with almost Mahlerian parody while the haunting microtones of Lied ohne Worte (Songs Without Words) were passed note by note between horn, violin and clarinet like molten wax.

 By now it was apparent that the silky-toned Arcadia could make even the most avant-garde sounds enticing. Both ensembles eased in and out of phrases with precision and impeccable intonation – particularly impressive given the extreme summer weather and the extended techniques involved.

The premiere of Perth composer Lachlan Skipworth’s wind quintet Echoes and Lines was much anticipated by locals. Skipworth (recently awarded the Paul Lowin prize) studied with both Smalley and Widmann, creating a serendipitous link between the repertoire. Echoes and Lines presented musical ideas in nine short miniatures which was something of a departure for Skipworth who tends to work with long lines. Each miniature explored a different technique including a canon, cross-rhythms, fast unison staccatos, repetition and echoes.

Despite of perhaps because of the simplicity of the ideas, the musical result was often intense; each miniature was minutely crafted for maximum flavour. Skipworth’s carefully placed phrase endings – either pointed and brief or wound down to niente - created a sense of pause and breathing room. The silence between each movement became a work of art itself, the last note echoing through the hall, then the decay of sound, followed by an absorbed silence while the memory of the idea lingered like a fragrance.

The ASQ returned to the stage with the addition of string bass player Stephen Newton for Françaix’s Dixtuor (Dectet). Folksy string playing and effervescent winds were offset by a vigorous bass line from Newton. The gentle dovetailing of phrases in the Andante was followed by a spirited finale bringing the concert to a close.

After nearly two hours of music making of great refinement and camaraderie it was clear that this was a youthful supergroup of unfettered imagination and immense control; a perfect match.

This review first published in Limelight Magazine Feb 2017.

The Perth Festival continues for two more weeks. Eighth Blackbird bring their fire to an extraordinary contemporary music program tonight at the Perth Concert Hall. Come early for the Preconcert Talk and stay afterwards for the Meet the Artists interview presented by yours truly!

Brodsky/Calder Octete-a-Tete review

Perth Festival's Chamber Music Series kicked off last night with a collaboration between the Brodsky (UK) and Calder (US) Quartets. Both quartets have a deservedly high profile in the festival: the Brodsky will perform all 15 string quartets by Shostakovich and the Calder will profile contemporary repertoire alongside Beethoven classics.

Calder and Brodsky Quartets in Octet form  (photo Tony Wilkinson)

I had a hunch the octet collaboration would be the highlight of the chamber music concerts: a meeting of two legendary ensembles; a profound dialogue between eight magnificent artists; the frisson of friendly rivalry.

Well I guess the good thing about a blog is that you can be frank: I was underwhelmed.

The light repertoire (perhaps an antidote to the intensity of the concerts to come) and the breezy approach of the artists meant the concert felt like an afterthought, a social outing before the real thing.

The program featured Mendelssohn's Octet supplemented by Shostakovich's intense but brief Two Piece's for String Octet plus arrangements (described candidly by violinist Daniel Rowland as encore arrangements) of  three orchestral classics. The entire concert including interval was over in under 90 minutes and the meatiest part was the program note by Gordon Kerry, who can make meaningful connections between even the most unrelated of pieces.

The Brodsky and Calder quartets. (photo Appleby)

Government House Ballroom was almost full with audience members spreading to the balconies. The room's resonant acoustic suited the octet, lending a brightness and immediacy to the string sound. In the first half of the program the four violinists shared the leadership of the ensemble which indicated a convivial partnership between the artists. But there were also pitch issues and a lack of cohesion which pointed to a lack of rehearsal.

The octet arrangements were by the multi-talented Paul Cassidy, the viola player from the Brodsky Quartet. The frenzied outbursts and sardonic humour of  Shostakovich's Two Pieces were well-conveyed, while Khachaturian's Sabre Dance highlighted individual players and their unswerving musical commitment. Barber's Adagio was less successful; the work's intensity is built from the density of sound and in octet form it felt vacuous in parts.

In the second half Daniel Rowland, principal violin of the Brodsky quartet, led the ensemble in Mendelssohn's Octet and although I admired his clear musical intent when the group were here in 2009, this time his charisma felt over the top and noisy. Despite this I found myself marvelling again at both the delicacy and vociferousness of Mendelssohn's precocious writing.

Of course music appreciation is a subjective game and while I felt disappointed many in the audience gave a standing ovation. Thankfully there is much more to come over the weekend.

Celebrity Soft Spot Yarmila Alfonzetti

Yarmila Alfonzetti is the new classical music programmer for the Perth International Arts Festival. Yarmila worked for many years as head of classical musical at the Sydney Opera House, but perhaps her best credential is her decades of obsessive concert attending! She splits her time between Perth and Sydney where she is CEO of the Sydney Youth Orchestra. Yarmila shares below her first impressions of Perth and her enthusiasm for chamber music, opera, leider, symphonic repertoire... well all things musical! 

What music gets your heart racing?

There is nothing like a big symphonic work; I defy anyone to not be jolted out of their everyday existence when listening to the Rite of Spring, or Pictures at an Exhibition, or Shostakovich Symphony no. 5, or Symphonie Fantastique… I could go on. These big works, full of power and complexity, when played by great orchestras (ideally live in a concert hall), are really the stuff of my dreams. Oh, and let’s not forget all the big requiems – Verdi, Faure, Berlioz! Oh, and the great operatic repertoire… there’s too much.

What calms you down?

Not much actually (I find it hard to relax). Because of what I do, music isn’t often in the background for me, so I don’t listen to relax. I find myself needing to concentrate too much. I do practice a lot of yoga, and this is my way of meditating.

What do you sing along to?

Nothing – I am a terrible singer! I leave it to the experts.

You joined the PIAF team in November when the Classical Music Program was ready to launch; what is your role now heading into the Festival?

Actually I have spent quite a bit of time in the second half of 2016 with the PIAF team, and it has been really wonderful. My role is really to support the Artistic Director Wendy Martin to realise the dreams and aspirations that she has for the festival, as well as shape the classical program and bring my expertise about artists and repertoire. I have programmed a lot of concerts, so I know what a good classical music concert is. Heading into the festival, my role now shifts slightly away from supporting the AD, to supporting the artists and the audience. I truly believe that the best thing I can do is be the conduit between these two elements; I will be hosting each concert, making introductions, talking to people before and after, and I am hoping to make classical music lovers in Perth feel like they can get as close as possible to this music.

I noticed the recent addition to the program of the Classic Flow Yoga. Was this your idea?

Classic Flow was originally the brilliant brainchild of a fellow yogi Ramona Curmi and the most inspiring yoga practitioner and teacher Lara Zilibowitz who have recorded some podcasts for ABC Classic FM. To bring this beautiful combination of yoga and live classical music to an outdoor setting in Winthrop Gardens seemed like the most natural thing in the world (the lengths a girl has to go to in order to get her weekend yoga fix)! Lara is really someone quite special; for her there is no end to the movement in each yoga pose, and this continual stretching, adjustment and reaching is made seamless when in consort with classical music.

The Brodsky Quartet

The program is dominated by chamber music, in particular lots of string quartets (Calder Quartet, Brodsky Quartet, Australian String Quartet! Why is this genre the focus?

Well, the repertoire is THE BEST! I also like diving deep into something; if we are going to do it, let’s get into it! In the chamber music program, audiences can really get to know something, they can walk away knowing a lot more about the genre, the composer, the period of music. Goethe said that listening to a great string quartet is like eavesdropping on a conversation between four brilliant minds; I am so excited to have a long weekend of this in Perth.

The Chamber Music Series builds on the success of the inaugural chamber festival last year. The program includes the Brodsky Quartet performing the complete string quartets by Shostakovich. Listening to 15 string quartets over 3 days is a marathon task. What can audience members expect?

The can expect to be moved, to be taken on a journey, to feel like they are part of a private moment in time between the composer and the life he has tried to capture in notes. It is a commitment, but it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and the rewards are great.

The Dark Mirror takes Schubert’s iconic Winterreise into new directions with tenor Ian Bostridge accompanied by the WA Symphony Orchestra, video imagery and a wintry landscape setting. It sounds absolutely fabulous, although I wonder if it could offend purists. Is reimagining masterworks in a contemporary framework the way of the future if classical music is to build a new audience?

I must admit that I personally am someone who requires nothing more than a bare stage and a brilliant musician to enjoy a performance. I don’t need any bells and whistles. But what I really want people to understand about this performance, and in fact all varied performances of Winterreise (and I have seen and heard many), is that it will enhance and layer your interpretation. True lovers of this work, and people like me who adore lieder in general, will be so excited to have an opportunity to add to their understanding of this piece; to be tutored in a deeper understanding of Winterreise by the master himself – Ian Bostridge – is an absolute privilege. I do hope that WA residents realise how exceptional this opportunity is…the rest of the classical music community in Australia is gasping that Ian is only coming to Perth! I don’t think we need to re-imagine classical music to make it appealing, what we have is the world’s best artists here in Perth presenting the very best repertoire, and it is this commitment to quality across every show in every artform which will appeal.

Composer Mark Applebaum says music should above all else be interesting. What do you think is the most important role of music?

Hmm, I don’t think that music has to be the same thing for all people, but essentially I do tend to agree with Mark. The best music is interesting, and it is also complex. The music I think people are drawn to is often appealing and simple on the surface, but beautifully intricate and complex underneath (the same thing can be said for great folk music, jazz, and even pop music; the best pop music often has a couple of unusual chords, or a twist in the standard structure). Works by the greats - Bach, Mozart and Beethoven - no matter how melodic and simple in structure - have attracted the minds of hundreds, if not thousands, of musicologists throughout history who dedicate lifetimes to unpicking the complexity that is required to create this beauty. So, interesting is good, underlying complexity is better.

You have a soft spot for attending concerts. What is the attraction of listening to live music?

Life is busy, and messy and fraught with emails and devices and meetings. A concert is one of the best ways to find solace, to think, to allow your mind a moment of deep thought. And it’s hard to be interrupted – you have bought a ticket and are ensconced in a concert hall. If you are just at home reading a book, well expect the kids to disturb you at any minute!

When did you first begin to be an advocate for classical music?

I have wonderful parents and a family who all believe that art is the most important thing in the world. My parents let me learn every instrument I wanted, took me to concerts, and had a house littered with books and paintings and sculptures. So this allowed me to know that art is important, and it enriches everything in life. It changes your perspective and makes you think.

In my day job now as the CEO of Sydney Youth Orchestras I talk to hundreds of parents all the time, and I remind them about what music teaches young people – hard work, dedication, listening. The list goes on. And for so many young people, some of them troubled teenagers, if you have an artform (music, painting, whatever), you always have it. It’s yours. Friends might come and go, school life gets complicated, but your music is your own retreat.

Where did you learn the skills to curate concerts?

I just go to a lot of concerts, and I appreciate the skill of good musicians. When I was at the Conservatorium High School in Sydney, I used to head down to Sydney Opera House most nights of the week and sneak into an empty seat after interval. In my many years as Head of Classical Music at Sydney Opera House, I was in a venue almost every night. It’s not really about making a perfect concert, but more about sharing great repertoire, and providing another interpretation of the music, and allowing people an opportunity to hear something anew. The best concerts for me are the ones where musicians truly interpret the music.

What is your favourite place in Perth?

I don’t know Perth well enough yet to have my own secret favourite place, but Boucla is the best café (and I live in Darlinghurst in Sydney so that’s saying A LOT), the City of Perth Library is amazing, I love the boab tree in Kings Park.

Do you have a soft spot for anything else in life or is it all about the music?

Haha – it is really all about music. I have backed myself into a corner, and I’m not sure I want to work in anything that isn’t all about music. I made a decision years ago to surround myself with music and musicians, and that is what I search for in everything I do. However, I do also love gardening and dream about having my own huge garden to tend one day, and I do have a tiny soft spot for my husband (who is old and wise)!


Thank you Yarmila Alfonzetti for participating in the Celebrity Soft Spot series. The full classical music program for PIAF is here and there is an interview with her on the PIAf blog. Yarmila will be hosting concerts and giving talks throughout the festival so be sure to bail her up and add your voice to the classical music dialogue in Perth!

February Gig Guide

Welcome to festival season folks! Fringe World is underway and the Perth International Arts Festival is about to launch. Here's my overview of the classical feast about to erupt!

On Saturday 4th February (tonight!) WA Opera celebrates its 50th anniversary with a gala Opera in the Park,  8pm Langley Park.

Also that night the Fringe World lieder recital Dream of Childhood's End featuring Eva-Marie Middleton and a whole pile of soft toys which I reviewed on Thursday night.

The opening night of PIAF is Friday 10th February which is the first night of the intriguing The Dark Mirror, a re-imagining of Schubert's Winterreise with tenor Ian Bostridge accompanied by the WA Symphony Orchestra, video imagery and a wintry stage setting.

On Saturday 11th Soft Soft Loud returns to the Fremantle Arts Centre this time featuring US electro-acoustic composer William Brittelle and songsmith countryman Aaron Roche collaborating with WA instrumentalists in a brand new composition.

The Brodsky and Calder Quartets combine in a program of octets on the 16th, which will be a stunning preview to the chamber music weekend. The chamber music weekend is an incredible line up of talent, dominated by string quartets and in particular the Brodsky Quartet performing Shostakovich's complete string quartets (yes that's 15 quartets across 3 days!). The LA-based Calder Quartet perform three different programs based around the theme Beethoven and Beyond. The Australian String Quartet teams up with new kids on the block Arcadia Winds for two programs of rare music for wind and strings, including the world premiere of a new work by Lachlan Skipworth.

The weekend also includes some free concerts including a recital by Tamara-Ann Cislowska of the piano works of Peter Sculthorpe, plus a duo session with Elena Kats-Chernin performing Kats-Chernin's stunning compositions from their award-winning album Butterflying. And just to mix it up there are two Classic Flow Yoga sessions to ease people into the morning with 90 minutes of yoga accompanied by live music.

Musica Viva jumps on the PIAF band wagon on Feb 20th with American super-group Eighth Blackbird performing an entire concert of contemporary classical music - hooray! (This makes up for the dearth of contemporary repertoire last year.) One of the six composers featured is a woman, which isn't great statistically but it is the Aussie Holly Harrison which almost makes up for it.

To celebrate festival time PIAf is selling $36 tickets from Monday 6th February so keep an eye on their website.

I'm also going to make mention of the Perth Writer's Festival from Feb 23-26 including the kid friendly Family Day on Sunday 26th.

So there it is, dive into February and enjoy!

PIAF review: the golden sound of Wynton Marsalis

The last time I heard a sound that golden was when the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra was in town. On Thursday night there was the same rarefied atmosphere as the sound of the iconic Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra blazed through the Perth Concert Hall. Wynton Marsalis’ big band was part way through an arrangement of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue when the tender melody exploded into a series of thrilling brass and saxophone chords.

Duke Ellington’s Mood Indigo also took my breath away but for different reasons - its lethargic beauty was built from a conversation between clarinet, muted trumpet, trombone and rhythm section that was a model in impeccable balance, gentlemanly good taste and gobsmacking technique. I say gentlemanly because the line up was all male: five horn players who between them played nineteen different wind instruments, three trombones and four trumpets including Marsalis. The band leader is renowned for championing traditional jazz (a big deal in the 70’s when the jazz fraternity headed almost exclusively into experimental territory) which perhaps explains - but doesn’t excuse - the notable absence of women.

After interval the JLCO were embedded in the WA Symphony Orchestra for Marsalis’ Swing Symphony, a work tracing the evolution of the swing rhythm. The opening tune Maple Leaf Rag was introduced by no less than eight clarinets (five jazz clarinets plus three from the orchestral wind section) anchored by the laid back syncopation of drummer Ali Jackson. The versatile WASO swung hard alongside their jazz colleagues through a Charleston, a percussion-driven tango, Kansas City Swing and Sing Sing Sing.

Particularly memorable was a sultry saxophone solo shared with the entire cello section, the fast patter of Wynton Marsalis’ bebop solo, a mambo groove with the violas doubling the drums and the orchestral wind players conveying the twilight stillness of Ornette Coleman’s Sadness. The symphony rushed by in an intense 60 minutes; a rapid succession of jazz standards that left little space for digestion. But Marsalis' creative integration of the two bands, use of recurring motives and sprinkling of stunning solos created a work that was a weighty and fascinating orchestral journey through jazz.

This review copyright The West Australian 2016.

PIAF Concerto Italiano review

Leave it to the Italians to teach us about beauty. Concerto Italiano’s performance of Monteverdi’s Vespers for the Blessed Virgin was all about effortlessly flowing beautiful singing. The ensemble specialises in early Baroque repertoire and under conductor Rinaldo Alessandrini they demonstrated the flexible expressiveness and controlled refinement of Italian cantabile at its most sublime.

Monteverdi’s complex writing required the ten-part choir to sing sometimes as three separate choirs and also as soloists where the Concerto Italiano singers delighted in the freedom of ornamenting their solo line. The choir blended warmly with the organ and penetrated through the instrumental accompaniment with a focussed brightness where required.

The period instruments included a continuo of organ and two theorbos (lutes with a long neck extension) with the addition in some movements of strings and brass including three trombones and double bass. The resulting weighty bass sound highlighted Monteverdi’s groundbreaking technique pioneering a basso continuo in vocal music.

Monteverdi’s other great achievement as a composer was to reintroduce the importance of the text in vocal writing. Unfortunately the program for this concert didn’t include the text of the Vespers (in Latin or English) so Monteverdi’s efforts at matching poetry to music were difficult to appreciate.

So the focus returned to the singers and fortunately they were exquisite. The duetting sopranos in the Motet Pulcha es decorated each note with delicate tonal colours and lightly-spun ornaments. Three male vocalists gave an achingly beautiful performance of the Motet Duo Seraphim delivering the trillo (aptly nicknamed the “goat’s trill”) ornament with a smoothness and lightness I’d never thought possible. Monteverdi’s call and response technique in the Magnificat was emphasised by performers turning their backs or singing  their responses off stage – another aspect of Alessandrini’s attention to sound quality that made Concerto Italiano’s performance one of the best you’ll hear.

This review copyright The West Australian 2016.

PIAF Dark Mirror White Noise review

 Artist Jon Tarry is known for his statues and art installations (including one at Curtin Gallery as part of PIAF). But on Monday night he was sculpting sound. The UWA associate professor was centre stage at Chevron Festival Gardens for a music and art collaboration called Dark Mirror White Noise.

Tarry's interactive pen on paper projected above stage

Tarry introduced the intersection of sound and image from the beginning of his 50 minute improvisation by using an interactive pad and pen (with pickup mic attached) to literally draw sound. The pen movement stimulated electronic sounds and the scribbles were projected onto a screen.

Tarry electronically manipulated the white noise to become low, subterranean globs of sound which his ensemble began to interact with. Peter Knight added high pitched (and somewhat intrusive) computer generated samples plus trumpet calls that he distorted to haunting effect. Vocalist Esther Maria brought a cabaret/operatic vibe to the performance with fragments of poetry delivered in Danish and English. Sam Pankhurst filled out the bottom end of the sound spectrum with his synthesizer and ‘geobass”, a wire suspended from the roof which he played with a bow to produce whispers and shivers.

Cameron Robbins took the cake in terms of visually compelling music making. He began on bass clarinet, interacting with Tarry’s scribbles with wriggling note clusters and multiphonic keening before returning to the stage with a “Fractal horn”, a tube with an extended bell which projected long slow tones over the audience. Then there was the metal swan extending on the arm of a wind gauge and activated by an industrial fan. Robbins also had his own mechanically operated drawing machine with an amplified pen which ricocheted between obstacles and generated a percussive beat. Robbins added a didgeridoo-like pulse on his clarinet, hair streaming out in the wind from the fan while the swan danced wildly above him. It was an incongruous and compelling mix of lo-fi and high brow art.

The performance wasn’t what everyone expected and there were a few walk outs. I had anticipated film work and a broader exploration of sound-generated visuals. Instead the show was more of a live installation performance. But for those who stayed it was an engrossing display of a group of artists’ limitless capacity for musical invention.

This review copyright The West Australian 2016.