The 1920s, and all that dissonance

MEOW MEOW

The 1920s, and all that dissonance

Ah, the 1920s. Some think Gatsby, but I’m inclined to think Weill.

A period that inspired many current-day flapper parties, but fundamentally tested an array of structures, very notably in music. It’s almost too good: Meow Meow and the MSO coming together again (remember Pandemonium?) to jostle a comfortable audience’s senses with tales of tragedy and temptation.

Meow Meow is joined onstage by the incredible Aura Go on piano and Christopher Moore conducting and on violin. They take us on a long (and I do mean, long) journey through the 1920s with Hindemith, Walton and Stravinsky. Amidst these pillars of discord, we are also treated to Picabia’s La Nourrice Américaine (The American Nurse), Schwitters’ Cigarren, and Weill, of course.

Meow Meow keeps things light to begin with, adding her own unique schtick that elicits chuckles from the audience. Once the back is suitably exposed, and we’re all smiling, she does a fine job of introducing the audience to the 1920s and what it meant politically, socially, and importantly, musically. Parallels are made to our current end of days, and we nod understandingly.

The first pillar of discord of the evening is Paul Hindemith’s Kammermusik No. 2 for Piano and 12 solo instruments. Composed in 1924, the piece is structured across four movements, with the piano at the centre. Go is absolutely in element here, showcasing her versatility as a performer and every bit the virtuoso. Hindemith’s piece essentially takes chamber music and thrusts it into a storm, all the notes carrying off the ground and ascending to a place beyond the period and spouting it back out with vigour and contempt. It’s an uneasy ride, but it’s perfectly well suited to the commencement of the pieces this evening.

It’s time for more chuckles with Cigarren by Kurt Schwitters, an obscure piece of disassembled language that only a Dada could love. It curls and purrs out of Meow Meow’s mouth like it was written for her. Meow Meow also gives us a delicious rendition of Brecht/Weill’s classic, Pirate Jenny. The shrill cruelty of Pirate Jenny’s words sounds as it should in German, and it’s quite titillating despite only three audience members speaking a lick of the language (Meow Meow checked). It’s okay, we, the bourgeoise audience all universally understand the welling hatred of those who look down upon us.

It’s all cruelty, with another Brecht/Weill ballad, in The Ballad of the Drowned Girl, until we fall headlong into William Walton’s poetic universe in selections of Façade. The morbid state of the evening ascends briefly in Igor Stravinsky’s The Soldier’s Tale. The tale is compellingly narrated by Meow Meow, and the devil in disguise is elegantly portrayed by Moore, who’s silhouette as he conducts and plays along, is a ghoulish projection upon the Melbourne Recital Centre’s curtains. And just as I too am about to abandon all hope, the lighting saturates a deep red, the drums crescendo, and the soldier makes his choice in the face of the beckoning devil.

Ah yes, the 1920s as we like to remember, where temptation wins.

First published on 25 October 2022 for Theatre Press

GOTHIC: a journey through Gothicism in music

It conjures up images of storming nights, the occult, hauntings, and everything else in between. If you walk a little along the dark side, you’ll have found yourself drawn into the stream of this poetic and imaginative underworld.

I for one found nothing more delightful than a late afternoon of music inspired by the Gothic; namely stories and imagery conveyed by words and sounds that evoke feelings that excite and terrify us. Gothic is brought to us by experimental music maven, Andrée Greenwell, whose arrangements and compositions of such varied works of the dark-kind delight and scintillate.

It began with the death of the young wife of Victorian Gothic poet, Edgar Allan Poe in Annabel Lee, a whimsical poem of death and the sea, and wonderfully brought to life through the visual design and animation of Michaela French. French’s beautiful and hypnotic animations, which were projected onto three arched windows, are a Gothic architectural throwback that served as a perfect visual world to fall into as the music played.

We quickly leaped into a modern transformation of the Gothic in an arrangement of The Cure’s A Forest, an atmospheric piece of the Gothic rock band that draws the listener into the dark.  We steadily moved deeper into the morbid world and the added vocals of the operatic Jessica O’Donoghue contributed to the sense of drama. The pieces chosen are starkly different, yet completely cohesive when assembled together by this talented group of musicians which included Andrea Keeble and Kyle Morrigan (on violins), Joshua Stilwell on viola, Noella Yan on cello and David Trumpmanis on electric guitar and on-stage audio.

The Birds, a short story of Daphne du Maurier’s and later known for its Hitchcock grandeur makes for a screeching segue into Kate Bush’s Wuthering Heights, a most beloved revival of Emily Brontë’s book of the same name. O’Donoghue performs the piece in a far more sombre manner and it is here that I was hoping for the pitch of Greenwell’s voice to soar instead.

Gothic took off suddenly from the ethereal into a far more disfigured terrain with Chosen, written by Maryanne Lynch and Andrée Greenwell, which bases itself on the entrapment of Kerstin Fritzl, whose walls were her world until she was 19. This progresses to the seedy world of a suicide at a motel with Death at the Beach Motel, focusing on the death of artist Brett Whiteley. The feel of this piece takes on a more Southern Gothic feel of urban decay.

Swiftly back into the land of goose bumps, all forms of Nosferatu and night creepers were projected in snippets of film as the troupe performed Thriller. And finally, after all the excitement I was glad to return to the ethereal with Edgar Allan Poe in The Bells, capping off with the strange beauty of the theme from Twin Peaks, a work by film composer Angelo Badalamenti and performed to perfection by the troupe. 

Badalamenti’s Fallen was the perfect closure to the evening, giving me the sense that I’d woken from a dream. Gothic was exactly what I always wanted and never thought to envisage. Thanks to Greenwell and her team, I was able to say my cravings for Poe and Twin Peak binges had at last made sense: I am of the Gothic kind.

 Gothic was performed  25 November 2018 at Arts Centre Melbourne.

DANCE HALL: THE DIVA CAROUSEL

Moira Finucane and her troupe of alt-glitterati storm upon the Luna Park Speigeltent; it’s all shimmies and wild confidence, and I admit I’m excited to see what’s dished up.

Finucane & Smith (Finucane and partner Jackie Smith) are my favourite kind of art collectors – they find unique artists to celebrate and perform with, taking their shows across the globe and showcasing a daring kind of stage appeal not often seen in Australia. I was first enamoured with Finucane’s work in the acclaimed Carnival of Mysteries, which submerged its audience in an unworldly and exciting place.

Finucane has an enormous stage presence; admittedly it’s unfathomable to think of anyone like her. Her magnificent height and figure coupled with her tremendous voice command a room, and it is at this point she rapidly takes her disco-pumping show to socio-political territory. No stone is left unturned in Finucane’s summation of the week’s events. Whether you agree with her or not, it was an unexpected turn for a dance-hall inspired show. It’s not the first time a performer has turned up the heat in the age of live-streaming, but I was expecting Finucane to take a different approach.

Once we were sufficiently enlightened, I was completely sucked into the thumping beats in an ode to various styles of music and performance, particularly to James Welsby voguing out, or the Bollywood craze ignited by Paul Cordeiro. The evening took another turn with the epic voice of Willow Sizer sizzling us with her Berlin-cabaret flair, and Clare St Clare gliding on stage to provide us with her scintillating vocal breathiness.

Dance Hall establishes itself as a variety show of amazing and fearless talent, and as the second act rolled round, I was pleasantly surprised by the humour and brilliance of ideas on display. I marvelled at the wonderful Maude Davey as she spun us into a frenzy of laughs dressed as planet earth, and then serenaded the audience into a misty-eyed state with her ballads. Finucane returned to utterly own the stage in a seductive pie-splattering performance that will have me looking for alternative uses for tomato sauce hereafter. I was eventually thrown by Mama Alto into the depths of my emotions with a rendition of Des’ree’s Kissing You, a performance which absolutely nailed in its final moments the vocal gymnastics of the piece.

Overall, I walked out of the spiegeltent satisfied and a touch overwhelmed. I was seduced by its glamour, blushed at its candour, and sighed at its occasional poignancy.

DANCING ON THE VOLCANO

It was indeed a time to be alive, between two World Wars in Germany, the highs and lows of life were encapsulated in the music of the era. A time marked as a period in the eye of a storm, poets and artists thrived in their joy at the end of 1919, and experienced the rattling descent into Nazi Germany. ‘Dancing on the volcano’ was an apt term for the artistic world of Germany in this period. Kabarett, a German form of political satire was commentary wrapped up in performance – a musical send up of the times.

Providing the historical context of the music only adds to the gravity of its content, and Robyn Archer AO, takes her audience on an educational journey with her long-time collaborators, Michael Morley on piano, and George Butrumlis on accordion.  Delving into the political carnage of the times, kabarett was also intensely concerned with the darker facets of the human identity – murder, sexuality, and obsession. It absolutely exploded in the 1920s, and saw the likes of Bertolt Brecht, Hans Eisler, Kurt Weil and Friedrich Hollaender take centre stage in this dark and electric world. Many of their pieces are performed with a lightness of tone, but deal with child murderers and the disintegration of society.

The performance begins on a pleasant note, with charming and saucy numbers like Kurt Tucholsky’s Anna Luise, which focuses on a man’s reminiscence of his time under a buxom woman’s skirt. However, it is not long before we find ourselves thrust into darker territory, stricken with tales of criminal conduct and the seedy underbelly of Berlin. The collaboration between Weill and Brecht for The Threepenny Opera resulted in the notorious and widely loved Mack the Knife. It was a pleasure to hear Archer perform the classic, and a special note must be made to Morley’s piano playing with this piece, perhaps cementing itself as my favourite rendition.

Archer relishes in the humour of the music, and her gestures throughout send her audience into fits of laughter even when a grandmother is being slain in Frank Wedekind’s Granny Murderer. The tongue in cheek humour of kabarett often savagely dealt with the cruelties of the world, something Archer clearly appreciates. This is most notable in her powerful performance of Friedrich Hollaender’s The Jews. Archer’s performance descends into the fist and head shaking notorious of a certain Chancellor, that when she finally lays the blame on multiple minorities in a final crash, she utterly rattles her audience. We are experiencing a rise of similar attitudes in our present day. Such is the power of the kabarett.

The delivery is overall strong, however I find the occasional phrasing in English leaves Archer breathless, as the translations don’t always flow so well. I appreciated when Archer would occasionally croon in perfect German – another example of her expansive skill as a performer. I must note here though, it would be harsh to expect a non-German speaking audience to grasp the subtle and brilliant flashes of truth conveyed in the words, and so much of Dancing on the Volcano is an ode to the power of words.

After the dark turns with The Jews and Brecht and Hans Eisler’s tragic horse in Falladah, the audience is both exhausted and in need of an injection of hope. Anticipating this need, Archer ends with Brecht and Eisler’s once again in the wonderful Bilbao Song.

I exited with greater knowledge and some joy from the night out, but also exited imagining a society ripping apart the horse it once loves stays on with me.

TUBULAR BELLS FOR TWO

Mike Oldfield’s debut masterpiece, Tubular Bells, sent shivers through our dreams for decades after its feature in the 1973 film, The Exorcist. Oldfield’s record was the first release of Virgin Records, where the ever-entrepreneurial Richard Branson took a chance on Oldfield’s unusual sound.

It’s worth noting here that the piece in its entirety is so much more varied and beautiful than those first few notes that became horror-film-famous. Any progressive rock aficionado listening to the whole recording would have to admit its multitude of instruments and complexities make it a hard live performance.

How about performed in its entirety by two?

The concept is kind of insane, but it has been a successful endeavour by Daniel Holdsworth and Aidan Roberts, who co-created the performance in 2010 and were surprised at the appetite of their Sydney Fringe Festival audience. It not only become a sell out show, but also received the Best Music Moment award. After performing extensively through Europe and the United States, Daniel Holdsworth returns with a new partner in madness, Thomas Bamford, for this year’s Australian tour.

In all frankness, I did not know what to expect. I have a strong familiarity with Mike Oldfield’s music through my mother, who sailed this globe through the 1970’s and is a bonafide authority on very cool music of the era. It was a treat to hear Tubular Bells live, and performed by two men with 20 instruments.

Full house again on the Saturday night performance at the Melbourne Arts Centre, and the audience was transfixed, whether on their heydays, or just awed by the sound and the sheer hard work of Holdsworth and Bamford. It’s a sight to behold, as the men expertly craft the sound and attempt to keep true to Oldfield’s music. It is an exercise in fortitude, as Tubular Bells demands its maker’s rhythm and soul. One moment Holdsworth is smashing his drums and growling, and the next on guitar churning out such peaceful melodies.

Tubular Bells for Two is a must-see for music fans anywhere in the world. The music if fantastic, and even where a moment is missed, as my mother keenly pointed out, it was breathtaking to watch. Holdsworth regaled the audience with some of their tour stories, including the man who found him after a show and pointed out all the times the music they performed did not exactly meet the timing of Oldfield’s piece.

For the kooky diehard fans, they will absolutely enjoy Tubular Bells for Two for the reminiscence, and emerging fans will love the performance and music.

Both will agree that it is an engaging, sometimes funny, and totally skilled performance.

Tubular Bells for Two was performed at Melbourne Arts Centre 15 – 16 June as part of their tour of Victoria and New South Wales that runs until 14 July. For a full list of tour dates and ticket information take a look at the Tubular Bells official website.

Australian Chamber Choir presents Mozart’s Requiem

The sheer uplifting majesty of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Requiem sends shivers down the spine of the audience, because no matter how many times the choral numbers feature in ads, or our cinematic memories, nothing is quite as breathtaking as hearing it live before you in the echo chamber of a place of worship.

The Requiem’s completion is notoriously debated, as 25-year-old Franz Xaver Süssmayr completed what is approximate to one third of the work after the sudden death of Mozart in 1791.  Süssmayr’s finishing work is masterful in itself, although it is unclear if Mozart left some direction to the youngster. The overall piece, true to Mozart’s form, ends with a glorious fury, so Süssmayr certainly stayed true to the master, and it is performed and marvelled at centuries later.

Taking on its sheer intensity, the Australian Chamber Choir (ACC) accompanied by the Melbourne Baroque Orchestra performed its final show of Mozart’s Requiem at the Scots’ Church Melbourne on Sunday 22 of April to a brimming audience. The piece was previously performed in Castlemaine and Macedon, finally ending the tour with gusto in Melbourne.

The ACC under artistic direction of Douglas Lawrence OAM has attracted great talent over the years since its inception in 2007.  Lawrence’s ability to commission new works from Australia’s talented up-and-coming composers certainly garners respect. With a multitude of tours through Europe, the ACC was recognised in 2015 as honorary life members to Denmark’s oldest classical music festival, the Sorø International Music Festival, cementing its place amongst the classical music elite.

One current standout talent coming through the ACC is soprano Elspeth Bawden, who joined the choir in 2016. Bawden has been admitted into the Royal College of Music in London, and it is no surprise with her rich and beautiful clarity of voice that such an opportunity should present itself to her. Bawden’s solo contributions to the Requiem are heavenly in their sound and character. Bawden is accompanied by wonderful fellow soloists, Oliver Mann (bass baritone), Timothy Reynolds (tenor), and Elizabeth Anderson (contralto).

The rhythmic beauty of all the voices came to the fore in the Kyrie, which followed with an arresting Sequentia Dies Irae. The Dies Irae is possibly one of the most recognised and magnificent pieces of choral work, imposing itself like a battle cry upon its audience. In contrast, the moving fragility of the Agnus Dei, takes the audience to a most heavenly height.

Having experienced an array of emotions, I exited the church with a classical music and Mozart enthusiast who exclaimed, “that, was amongst the best I’ve heard.”

Mozart’s Requiem was performed in Castlemaine, Macedon and closed in Melbourne 22 April. To learn more about the ACC visit their official website.

Arts Centre presents The Sounds of Falling Stars

The star-wattage of Cameron Goodall is so bright the audience gasps for air, as he brings to stage the greatest musicians of the 20thcentury.

The Sound of Falling Stars is a high intensity euphoric gaze into the past, and the falling stars are the men who died too young from living too hard and too fast. Their voices have carried through the decades and into the present (in most cases) in this nostalgic serenade by Goodall and his band of merry men, Enio Pozzebon (on keyboard), and George Butrumlis (on accordion).

Goodall is an explosion of talent; he is harnessed artfully by legend herself, Robyn Archer AO, who has written and directed this utterly fantastic show. Archer who is famed for her intimate shows and soulful sounds, has crafted this portrait of the musicians who died too young. The Sound of Falling Starscontains a litany of music from musicians of the likes of Hank Williams, Bobby Darin, Elvis Presley and all the way to Kurt Cobain. It is Goodall’s excellent voice and ability to mimic the essence of these now deceased icons that really captures the audience.

Goodall first enters the stage as none other than the Sex Pistols’ prince of darkness, Sid Vicious, who at 21 found his demise. Goodall manages to capture the voice and mannerisms of Vicious, and rapidly fire away as Mario Lanza and Sam Cooke the next moment. Goodall’s talent as actor and musician is evident, and the audience is completely in the palm of his hand. It takes effort to embody 31 performers, but Goodall does it without ever breaking out of their rhythm in a relentless show of tragedy and soul.

What is so captivating in The Sound of Falling Stars is the glimpse into the troubled lives of the musicians, and the often-tragic way their lives came to a sudden end. The theme of death, bad fortune and self-destruction pervade the stories. And, as emphasised at the close of the show, many lived and learned on the excellence of musicians past, but also followed the methodology of their own downfalls. One cannot help but consider whether an untimely end would surely ride on the coattails of such whirlwind ascent.

I find myself wanting to listen to all of these musicians, some of whom I collected in my early youth and some of whom were new to me as a Gen Y. One particular standout for me, (but entirely based on my own private musical tastes), was Goodall’s soulful performance of Jeff Buckley. Buckley’s high lilt of melancholy and vocal control is what I imagine to be one of the hardest voices to mimic, but Goodall did it with such precision, I felt for a moment that Buckley waded out of his watery grave back to us at the Arts Centre that night.

Despite the gloom, Goodall captured the heart of the audience through one musician and another, leaving us on a delighted high. I expect we all hope to see Goodall in some other incarnation another time, maybe next time as himself.

The Sound of Falling Stars was performed from 28 February – 3 March 2018 at the Arts Centre, Playhouse.

The Kransky Sisters Present A VERY KRANSKY CHRISTMAS

The Kransky Sisters are the kookiest cabaret act gracing Australia, and really, they’ve become cultural icons in their own right including memorable TV appearances on programs on Spicks and Specks and Adam Hills Tonight. I doubt many pictured backwater Australia as three sheltered sisters as a comic-cabaret gothic triad, but nonetheless here they are in all their kooky mod-squad glory.

The Kranskys are touring pre-holidays to offer some quirky Christmas cheer to Australians everywhere. Appearing at the relatively new kid on the block, the Alex Theatre, the sisters Mourne, Eve and Dawn (Annie Lee, Christine Johnston andCarolyn Johns) bring the house down with their hilarious songs, revamped versions of club hits, and strange stories from their fictional lives.

For those who don’t know the Kranskys’ origin tale, it starts out like most caravan dreams: Mourne and Eve’s mother runs off with their uncle, leaving them with their half-sister Dawn, the tuba-playing and long-suffering member of the pack. They live in Esk in small-town Queensland, and ever dressed alike, conduct their everyday Aussie lives whilst enabling each other’s sheltered world-views – with marvelously funny results.

To get everyone in the mood for their fabulously off-beat humour, a slideshow shared highlights of the sisters’ travels over the past year. It’s particularly funny to those who like the odd and unsettling – which is pretty much everyone in the audience – because we didn’t come for a Barbie sideshow, and the wonderful seriousness of their vibe only heightens the absurdity.

Mourne (clearly the dominant sibling), tells stories from their childhood and adult lives, and Eve nods in agreement and chimes in, whereupon they’re often completing each other’s sentencesas Dawn eyeballs them. Songs intersperse their histories, from singing Thriller to an unsuspecting Swedish backpacker, to taking same backpacker to a nightclub only to regale the night through song to us – we really get a solid dose of Kransky Does Pop: Sia, Daft Punk etc. etc. and it’s an absolute hoot as the sexual undertones of the music are utterly lost on them. Brandishing the tuba, and an oddball collection of other instruments, they give us a new vantage point to confection music by injecting their gloomy-folk magic to it.

The Kransky Sisters are a highly talented performance trio, and their style, music and unique way of storytelling gives them the enduring creative edge to attract audiences for years to come. I know that I will happily attend their next Christmas shindig if they will have me.

If you want to catch the kooky Kranskys, you may need swallow your pride for some audience participation – but boy will it make for some fun! You’ll find them touring Melbourne until the 26 November, and then on to NSW, QLD, SA and ACT.

Robyn Archer in QUE RESTE T’IL (WHAT REMAINS?)

Australian luminary and chanteuse Robyn Archer takes her Melbourne audience through a journey of harsh cityscapes and loving sentiments in Que reste t’il (What Remains?). I suspect the ‘What Remains?’ of her performance is an ode to the love affair we have with French music and how ingrained it has become within our popular culture.

What is so enthralling about Archer’s performance is her engagement with her audience. When an awkward twenty-something seated beside her relatively conservative mother can both burst into song along with the crowd, you know that the conductor of such an experience is of the gifted kind. The crowd is filled with those who have supported Archer for decades, and she certainly knows how to command them with her voice and wit.

Accompanied by Michael Morley on piano, and Paul Butrumlison accordion, Archer’s music sails through the turbulent times of Paris from the late nineteenth century and as far as the 1970s – even stopping to deliver an outsider’s perspective of the city of lights in Cole Porter’s You Don’t Know Paree. Archer interspersed her songs with stories of the era – a charming education on the history of live performance, with decadent and tragic stories ranged from lesser-known artists to the crowded halls of the Dadaist movement. It is apparent in ‘What Remains?’ that Parisian cabaret was not afraid to regurgitate the city’s own horrors and grime, juxtaposed with the songs concerning quaint longings of love that perch in a higher place above the cityscape.

I found Archer’s ability to weave history through French songs a marvellous form of escapism. My eyes even misted over during a rendition of Marie-Louise Damien’s Pluie: Damien, as Archer explains, was a chanteuse of the Parisian cabaret lesser known than Édith Piaf, but her music was exquisite, as Archer showcases. From Jacques Brel (who’s music dominates the night), Archer takes on some comic short rides with Aristide Bruant’s It Takes Cash, the kitsch delight The Singing Nun’s Dominique and the steamy Serge Gainsbourg/Brigitte Bardot’s Je t’aime. ‘What Remains?’ is such a tasty and eclectic mix of tragi-ballads and humour, where nothing musical of the French variety is left unturned.

The night came to a roaring close with two comic renditions – Alouette where everyone chimed in, and a bastardisation of Piaf’s Non, je ne regrette rien. Archer and her team exited the stage with thundering applause behind them – we really wanted more than an encore.

Francophiles found themselves in a comforting terrain in ‘What Remains?’, and for those remaining, find themselves delightfully haunted by the songs that have pervaded their lives through various mediums over the years.

Melbourne 2016: THE TALLIS SCHOLARS

Since 1973, Phillips has been proving that polyphony draws audiences in the droves. If anything is to be said for Hamer Hallon that balmy Melbourne night, the audiences of varying generations filled the seats to indulge in these beautiful harmonies. Sixteenth-century composer Thomas Tallis, a man who won the patronage of the powerful and elite (and also held the monopoly of printing music), inspired the title of Phillips’ troupe.

Phillips challenges his singers and convention by having only two singers perform a part. Phillips aptly states that two singers for a part are ‘more precise’ and ‘vulnerable’. The fact that the performers must work harder to crystallise their sound is an even greater credit to their ability and to their director. We were treated to some of the most ethereal sounds a human voice could deliver; I was elsewhere for much of this performance, hoisted by these angelic voices to higher ground. The mysticism inspired by Catholicism clearly still affects audiences todaythrough the sacred verses performed.

Phillips began the night with Peter Philips’ Cecilia Virgo, a piece whose text was inspired by the patroness of music, Cecilia. The piece is a perfect opener to the polyphonies that come after, signalling the skill of the alternating groups of voices. Pieces I felt that highlighted the skill of the Scholars and delivered the most compelling music to me would have to be Tallis’ Lamentations of Jeremiah, the modern composer John Travener’s As one who has slept, and William Byrd’s Tribue Domine.

Born under Peter Phillips‘ directorship, The Tallis Scholarswonderfully transcend the passage of time and deliver audiences the English Renaissance polyphony.

Tallis’ Lamentations of Jeremiah I felt captured the melancholy of the destruction of Jerusalem at a greater depth than Dominique Phinot’s, which Phillips has included after Tallis’ in the program. This was an exercise I suspect in contrasting how the Lamentations could be performed differently, with Phinot’s polychoral style dominating his piece.

The inclusion of Travener’s 1996 As one who has slept was a beautiful nod to a modern composer. The piece carries with it the weight of tremendous mysticism – the varying tones that take us to sudden and melodious highs and lows were a beacon of light in the evening for me. At one point I felt chills in my body: a testament to how overwhelming choral music can be.

The Tribue Domine by one of Tallis’ contemporaries, Byrd, closed the official part of the evening. With soaring voices that harmonised so beautifully, audiences were guaranteed to leave the Hamer Hall in an otherworldly state.

While Phillips indulged us with one last encore, I was adament it will not be the last time I journey to listen to this marvellous choral music.

The Tallis Scholars performed at Hamer Hall on November 6, 2016.

Tinalley String Quartet and John Bell in SPEAK LESS THAN YOU KNOW

A Tinalley String Quartet and John Bell collaboration is an iconic pairing that would excite any theatre or classical music aficionado.

Tinalley’s Adam Chalabi (1st violin), Lerida Delbridge (2nd violin), Justin Williams (viola) and Michelle Wood (cello) are exceptional. Thirteen years of performing worldwide and multiple awards later, it is unsurprising Tinalley have reached the status of one of ‘Melbourne’s Most 100 Influential People’. The precision, intensity and elegance of their music do justice to the brilliance of Felix Mendelssohn and Ludwig van Beethoven.

Tinalley first treat us to Mendelssohn’s String Quartet in a minor, Opus 13. Without a doubt, this is Mendelssohn’s journey through the soaring heights of passionate love. Further inspired by the passing of Beethoven, Mendelssohn’s Opus 13 features the occasional tribute to the old master, whilst carving his own fervour into the Quartet tradition.

One can imagine walking in the night air, bathed in the moonlight during the Adagio – Allegro vivace. Into the second movement, the Adagio non lento, there is a maddening energy that is both overwhelming and reminiscent of Beethoven’s Quartet, Opus 95. Succumbing to the varying moods of Mendelssohn’s romantic Quartet so far, the third movement, Intermezzo: Allegretto con moto – Allegro di molto, is an insistent melody that intertwines rapturously. The dazzling Quartet closes with the intensity of Beethoven’s leaning, and forms an amalgamation of all previous movements with Mendelssohn’s distinct flair.

When Tinalley finishes the Quartet, I am under Mendelssohn’s spell. It is fitting that Mendelssohn’s Quartet, so inspired by Beethoven, should be the splendid gatekeeper to Beethoven and his letters.

Enter Bell, letters in hand.

Bell’s timeless, cool voice embodies Beethoven’s deeply personal letters, reflecting his tempestuous temperament. From the earnest longing for the company of his friend Karl Amenda at age 31, to a different kind of longing for his Immortal Beloved at age 42, the insight into Beethoven’s lonely, and intense emotional inner life is palpable. It is not difficult to hear how Beethoven’s music reflected the torment and passion he experienced within himself.  The audience was given some comic relief in Beethoven’s letters to his nephew’s boarding school owner. The letters show the intensity of Beethoven’s hatred towards his sister-in-law, and later, a copyist who dared fail his expectations.

Interspersed amongst the reading of the letters, Tinalley performs Beethoven’s String Quartets, with each reflecting the mood of the letters read by Bell. Conceptually devised by Anna Melville, Melville brought Beethoven to life in a way that his music alone could only do in suggestion. The rich insight his letters provide confirm the temperament of the man who shared so much in his music.

Speak Less Than You Know was an outstanding and enjoyable insight into the Quartets of two masters. I, like others in the audience, left the Melbourne Recital Centre with a renewed passion for the men and their music that existed almost two hundred years before us.

‘Speak Less Than You Know’ was performed at the Sydney Opera House and Melbourne Recital Centre across three nights.

Finn and Porter's THE FIERY MAZE

Twenty years later and the unburied treasure of Tim Finn and Dorothy Porter surfaces into a smoky, enchanted space at the Malthouse’s Beckett Theatre. It’s a minimalist space with a ring of lights surrounding the performing trio, Tim Finn, Brett Adams, and Abi Tucker.

Tucker howls and serenades us with Porter’s visceral and haunting words, as if the very spirit of Porter possesses Tucker. Tucker’s performance is moody and earthy, and she breathes life with her voice into the stories of the stormy, moon-gazing kind of love that evokes something forgotten in her audience. Like quicksand, we are enveloped into the private world of Porter.

Finn’s music is gorgeous, and we expected it. Brett Adams on guitar is a revelation, and a perfect suitor for the music. The real core shakers, This World, My Magic Friend and Black Waterare interspersed with the jagged energy of New Friends, Bride Doll and Making You Happy. Each song delivers a truth behind the kind of love that we remember and carry even if it’s not in our very present. Porter’s words are utterly relatable, even if we can’t admit it. Like in January, we hope for a tomorrow that may bring us something new, something better. Understandably, even decades later, Tucker asked after Black Water, wanting to revisit the music and words that never left her from that recording in 1995.

As an audience we feel no different. With Black Water still swimming in my veins, I too want to return to the balmy darkness of The Fiery Maze.

It’s a real treat for those seeking a soulful experience with this unique blend of poetry and music by world-class artists.