Category Archives: Live Performance

Tankstream String Quartet

Leave a reply

Tankstream String Quartet

University of Western Australia Music Society

Octagon Theatre

reviewed by Neville Cohn 

Although young in years, the members of the Tankstream Quartet display an impressive maturity in whatever they program, richly fulfilling the promise already evident in its earliest presentations. Listening to the ensemble after a break of some years, I was almost immediately aware of a more pronounced depth of insight in its approach, not least an expressive range that has broadened.

Certainly, this was the case insofar as the Tankstream’s reading of Haydn’s Emperor Quartet from opus 76 was concerned. Here was a reading that was invariably within the line and contour of the 18th century.

Among its many virtues is the ensemble’s unusually precise synchronisation but, happily, without it sounding in the least mechanical or impersonal. On the contrary – and significantly – its playing here was informed by a subtle rhythmic ebb and flow that gave added meaning to their performance. And that this was successfully achieved in the ultra-dry, cruelly exposed acoustics of the Octagon (which makes the slightest lapse in ensemble or intonation instantly apparent) is all the more praiseworthy.

The finesse of its playing is as much the result of inherent musicality and self-discipline as the direction it has received from established masters of the medium.

Tankstream was no less convincing in Carl Vine’s Quartet No 3 which it presented with a searing intensity and more than a little virtuosity that gripped this listener’s attention from first note to last. At its most extrovert, the quartet’s presentation was informed by a harsh, grainy-toned aggressiveness that sounded entirely appropriate.

Has any of the playing of this exceptional string quartet been preserved on compact disc? If not, it certainly deserves to be.

With hotly contested competition wins in Melbourne and Osaka, Japan to its credit, the Tankstream players are clearly going places, including Copenhagen. And one of the ensemble’s more unlikely albeit prestigious upcoming dates will be strutting their stuff at a banquet at Fredenborg Palace in the lead-up to the wedding of Tasmanian Mary Donaldson and Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark. According to a newspaper report, the Australian government is footing the bill for that once-in-a-lifetime gig. Perhaps by then, the ensemble will have some demo CDs to hand out as freebies to assorted royals from here and there. And if present form is any guide, the four will acquit themselves splendidly in that palatial environment.

Copyright Neville Cohn 2004


W.A.Symphony Orchestra Cond. Dene Olding Art Gallery of W.A

Leave a reply

W.A.Symphony Orchestra
Cond. Dene Olding

Art Gallery of W.A

reviewed by Neville Cohn

Fine wine and the opportunity to view a retrospective exhibition of Howard Taylor’s idiosyncratic artworks before repairing to the atrium of the Art Gallery of W.A.to listen to the W.A.Symphony Orchestra in works by Mozart, Beethoven and Sculthorpe proved an irresistible attraction for aficionados of art, music and the grape. They thronged the gallery, many with wine goblets in hand and filled every seat at this most civilised of entertainments.

Once again, we heard Alan Dodge (director of the gallery) introduce the concert at some length, followed by the appearance of guest conductor and soloist Dene Olding who also felt the need to address the audience. Wondering whether, after this second speech, we would have to listen to a third, and possibly, fourth speaker – perhaps one of the security guards expounding on his line of work or possibly a little talk on the gallery’s air conditioning system (followed, of course, by throwing the floor open for questions from the captive audience) – it was relief to see Olding raise his baton and finally get on with the main business of the evening as he took the orchestra through Sculthorpe’s Sonata for Strings No 3.

Subtitled Jabiru Dreaming (which is a reworking for string orchestra of an earlier string quartet), it was less
convincingly essayed than the Mozart symphony that followed it so that one wondered whether sufficient rehearsal time had been devoted to the Sculthorpe work.

At times, there was a tentative, hesitant quality on the part of the players with caution taking precedence over confidence of exposition. It made for rather unsettling listening – but I liked the cello solo which introduces the second movement – and the simulations of bird twitterings and didgeridoos that dot the score were convincingly
managed and brought a strong sense of place to the proceedings.

As always, Mozart’s Prague Symphony enchanted the ear. If ever there was music fit to accompany the opening of the doors of heaven, it is this. And for the most part, its gloriously developed ideas were confidently and stylishly expounded in a manner that allowed them to register to fine effect on the consciousness.

Woodwind chording was less than immaculate, though, notably in the adagio that ushers in the first movement. But the wind players redeemed themselves in the finale where its contributions to tutti utterances were impressive. Joel Marangella played the oboe beautifully. Horns were on form, too.

Another concert in this deligthful series – Haydn Snaps – takes place at the gallery on 24th July. Violinist Barbara Jane Gilby will preside over performances of Handel and Haydn. Sara Macliver will be the soprano soloist.

Purchase your tickets early. These events are invariably sell-outs.

Copyright 2004 Neville Cohn


Wild Utopia Callaway Auditorium

Leave a reply

Wild Utopia

Callaway Auditorium

 reviewed by Scott Rheede  

Bearing in mind that at the Easter long weekend, many of the members of the Royal Schools Music Club would have been away at holiday destinations around the state, the turnout to hear the recently formed ensemble Wild Utopia was entirely respectable on an otherwise deserted University of W.A. campus.

Wild Utopia is made up of three Perth-based musicians, women who are as versatile as they are gifted. Each, in her own way, has made valuable, varied contributions to the music life of Western Australia, not least cellist Melanie Robinson who has, inter alia, worked for her alma mater, the W.A.Academy of Performing Arts, teaching music to students in the Aboriginal Theatre Course in the remoteness of the Kimberleys.

Cathie Travers (piano accordion) and Jessica Ipkendanz (violin) have such high profiles in music that they don’t need any introduction at all.

Ipkendanz’s Mosquito Dance made intriguing listening, ushered in by a single, high pitched note ending abruptly with a little trill that instantly reminded one of the characteristic sound of one of those kamikaze insects about to strike. From this rather frivolous beginning, the work flowered impressively with rich, minor-mode sonorities and melancholy melody lines that brought Hebraic cantorial singing to mind. On first encounter, though, one sensed the need for some judicious pruning of a piece that sounded a shade long for its material.

I liked Ipkendanz’s reworking of an episode from Prokofiev’s ballet Romeo and Juliet, with its instantly recognisable, macho, striding motif of proud Veronese nobles. Here was a transcription at a way station well on the way to completion. This is an arrangement I would very much like to listen to again.

A transcription of Delibes’ famous Flower Duet brought freshness to familiar notes in an account that included Ipkendanz and Robinson treating the melody line in vocalise fashion – and very well they sang, too, to a discreet accompaniment on Travers’ accordion and hushed cello pizzicato. And in an arrangement of part of the third movement of Galliano’s Concerto for accordion and strings, Travers came impressively into her own. Spleen, another Galliano composition, had an extemporaneous, intense quality that sounded entirely right. So, too, did Travers’ arrangement of Piazzolla’s Fugata, another delight, with a groove box providing a rhythmic underpinning to music that, with its baroque contrapuntal intricacies, would surely have prompted an approving nod from the great J.S.Bach himself had his shade hovered over the proceedings at Callaway Auditorium. Earlier, we heard Traver’s probing arrangement of Piazzolla’s Preludio 9, one of the Argentinian master’s darker essays with its sombre, sighing theme.

Gypsy Groovebox, based on a remembered fragment of an Hungarian folk melody, provided extrovert, impassioned and eminently danceable music that set the pulse racing.

This presentation bore the stamp of distinction which augurs well for Wild Utopia. Its imaginative treatments of standard repertoire and its own original work make for compelling listening.

Copyright 2004 Scott Rheede


David Leisner (guitar) Eileen Joyce Studio

Leave a reply

David Leisner (guitar)

reviewed by Neville Cohn

 

Eileen Joyce Studio

 

American classical guitarist David Leisner had a career rich in promise both as recitalist and concerto soloist until an arm, disabled by illness, put paid to his concert-giving for more than a decade. But sheer grit and literally years of concentrated effort to re-learn and re-master the guitar have paid off in the most substantial way.

Leisner’s renewed command of the instrument was glowingly evident at his recital for the Classical Guitar Society of W.A.. In this sense, Leisner is yet another in a succession of remarkable musicians who have triumphed over seemingly insurmountable disability. (Another guitarist, Django Reinhardt, for instance, had his left hand badly burnt but, deformed fingers notwithstanding, evolved into a superb interpreter in the jazz idiom.)

Leisner’s program was no easy ride. No soft option for this guitarist. No. This was one of the toughest assignments imaginable for even the most impressively equipped of musicians. And Leisner came through with pennants proudly flying.

An account of Bach’s famous Chaconne in D minor was peak of the evening. Originally conceived for unaccompanied violin, it is one of western music’s most glorious achievements, an epic that has been transcribed for a number of different instruments. Larry Adler, for instance, played it on the harmonica – and Brahms made a piano arrangement of it to be played by the left hand only. Leisner has made his own transcription for the guitar – and what an awesome offering it was, with a command of the instrument so complete and seemingly effortless that the instrument seemed more an extension of Leisner’s being than an inanimate construction of wood, varnish, glue and metal strings.

Certainly, his clarity of exposition, an ability to focus on the Chaconne’s myriad intricacies without losing sight of the work’s grand design – and the range of tonal colourings drawn upon – made this one of the most uplifting guitar offerings I’ve experienced in years. It’s a lengthy work, one of Bach’s noblest offerings, and the audience paid Leisner the honour of listening to him in absolute
silence.

Argentinian composer Alberto Ginastera’s Sonata for guitar occupies a very different mood and sound world. Here, Leisner could barely be faulted, adapting to the work’s stylistic subtleties as if to the manner born, expounding its often villainously demanding musical argument with an irrefutable logic and often-blazing virtuosity. Here, as throughout, Leisner played from memory.

There was also a guitar sonata of uncertain provenance. It is believed to be by one Stephen Pratten (1799 – 1845) but music historians are doubtless yet to spill oceans of ink debating its exact origins. Whoever wrote it, it’s an appealing, charm-laden work, often sounding uncannily like the guitar equivalent of some piano sonatina by Diabelli or Dussek. It deserves a permanent place in the repertoire.

A fascinating program included arrangements of two Schubert lieder from Schwanengesang, the ubiquitous Standchen and Die Post, the haunting, bittersweet strains of the former a pleasing curtain raiser. The galloping, six-in-a-bar measures of Die Post, though, were less consistently convincing; not all the repeated notes ‘spoke’.

And of a suite of four pieces by Leisner himself, Ritual was particularly pleasing, coming across as a slowly unfolding extemporisation which gradually grew in intensity. Episode, too, made interesting listening, with its nervy quality, its syncopated rhythms and intricate work high on the fingerboard.

All in all, this was one of the most satisfying recitals so far this year, presented in near-peerless fashion by a grandee of the guitar.

Copyright 2004 Neville Cohn


The Rape of Lucretia (Benjamin Britten)

Leave a reply

The Rape of Lucretia (Benjamin Britten)

 

Australian Opera Studio
Regal Theatre

reviewed by Neville Cohn

Benjamin Britten’s chamber opera will never be listed in opera’s Top Ten for popularity – nor in opera’s Top 100 for that matter. No one is ever going to sing bits of it in the shower. It’s devoid of catchy melodies in the conventional sense and Ronald Duncan’s libretto (this was his first attempt to write a text for opera) is often pretentious. And its overlay of Christian concepts of sin and forgiveness is awkward and contrived for a story set in 500 BC.

What does make Lucretia fascinating and likely to endure is Britten’s endless inventiveness, a marvellously detailed, constantly diverting vocal and instrumental score.

It is very difficult to bring Lucretia off successfully. Even seasoned professionals find it daunting. How, then, did the youthful musicians of the Australian opera Studio fare? With minor reservations, remarkably well, so much so that I was constantly surprised and impressed at the way both singers and instrumentalists steered a way through some of the most intricate and difficult episodes. Indeed, if ever there needed to be evidence that the AOS is doing good work in preparing young musicians to cope with the realities of the profession, it is here in abundance.

There’s not a weak link among the eight singers. Not all are at the same level of development yet but it is clear that they had been carefully prepared for the demands of their respective roles.

Britten uses two singers – soprano Aivale Cole and tenor Donald Cullen – as a form of Greek chorus to introduce the work and to comment on the action and the protagonists as the work unfolds. Cole was immensely impressive. She is a stage natural, moving around the set with relaxed authority and singing beautifully with an understated artistry that augurs well for a career in opera. Her words were enunciated with such clarity that it was never necessary to look at the surtitles to check what she happened to be uttering. Cullen, too, made a good fist of his role and with greater experience and training, his vocal line will surely become more cleanly defined.

The story line in a nutshell is this: three military men during the Etruscan domination of Rome – Collatinus, Junius and Tarquinius – are indulging in “men’s talk” about sex in general and women’s faithfulness in marriage in particular. Two of them have wives who sleep around. But Collatinus’ spouse Lucretia does not. The devil gets into Tarquinius and he rides on horseback to Rome and rapes Lucretia in her own bedroom. Overcome with shame – even though she is not at fault – Lucretia kills herself in front of her distraught husband.

Ileana Bodnaras, in the eponymous role, was in splendid voice which had an attractive, darkly mellow quality – and she came across as a figure of tragic dignity. Baritone Brett Carter as Tarquinius made of his character a lecherous, amoral and cruel figure. In the much smaller role of Collatinus, baritone David Thelander is perfectly cast. His voice is an impressive instrument; his sense of horror and grief at Lucretia’s terrible experience is given the stamp of truth.

As Junius, Korean-born Min Huh was well up to the mark in vocal terms, producing a sonorous stream of sound while radiating an aura at once macho and misanthropic – and a barely disguised sense of schadenfreude on learning of Lucretia’s fate. His diction, though, was not always as clear as one might have wished it to be.

Miriam Sharrad as Lucretia’s nurse made the most of a smaller role as did Anita Watson as Lucretia’s maid. Their trio with Lucretia in the linen-folding episode came across convincingly.

The two chorus members wear casual, modern clothing which contrasts oddly with those of the rest of the cast who wear costumes of the era, designed by Michael Betts. When not wandering across the set, the two choruses sit in a contemporary, book-cluttered, study-like space to one side of the stage which is steeply raked.

Props are down to the barest minimum – a pillow here, some sheets there, a couple of spinning wheels – and large colour reproductions of ancient bas-reliefs positioned on the backdrop. Nicholas Higgins designed the lighting.

Michael Schouten worked wonders from the pit, coaxing a largely effective response from his ensemble, led by violinist Jessica Ipkendanz, and giving crucial cues to the singers. His very real understanding of the score and sense of pace went a long way to ensuring the success of the venture. As always, director John Milson’s discreet touch ensurd the smoothest of dramatic unfoldings.

Copyright 2004 Neville Cohn