"TEN DAYS ON THE ISLAND"
30 March - 8 April 2001
Music at the Federation Court Hall
The Federation Court Hall is Hobart's newest serious music venue, recently completed. Attached to the Grand Chancellor Hotel on the waterfront, it is much reviled for its appearance, having been compared variously to a gasworks and the interior of a washing machine. Inside, however, it just looks like a concert hall. There has been some discussion as to its acoustics, which were intended to be superb; in fact, there seems to be some room for improvement.
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T'ang Quartet
Yu-Ning Ng (violin)
Chek Meng Ang (violin)
Lionel Tan (viola)
Leslie Tan
(cello)
Monday 2 April 2001
Federation Court Hall, Hobart
Schulhoff: String Quartet No. 1
Sheng: String Quartet No. 3
Dvorák: String Quartet op. 96, "American"
The T'ang Quartet consists of four absurdly young-looking men from Singapore, who believe it is only appropriate that they should promote music of the 20th century observing that it is now "the last century," and could hardly be called modern. This was their first appearance in Australia. Their Hobart program, also featured in Launceston, comprised the works of two Czech composers and one by Chinese-American Bright Sheng. The three works are linked by an undertone of somber yearning, the Schulhoff ending with a slow movement. This composer was much influenced by his experiences in the First World War, and died in a concentration camp during the Second. Bright Sheng's very different Quartet No. 3 draws heavily on Tibetan sonorities, producing wonderful sounds reminiscent of that country's alphorns and the traditional humming chants of Tibetan Buddhist monks. It also concludes with a slow movement, a somber memorial to those who died in the Cultural Revolution.
The T'ang Quartet plays with the tight empathetic unison and apparent telepathic abilities of the best small chamber groups; they made every note seem right and significant.
The T'ang's rendition of the more familiar Dvorák "American" Quartet was joyfully free-flowing, with particularly sweet sounds coming from the violins. Here the regret is less for those who died in historical circumstances than the nostalgia of expatriates for their homeland. Shostakovich's Polka provided a witty and well-received encore. The T'ang Quartet plays with the tight empathetic unison and apparent telepathic abilities of the best small chamber groups; they made every note seem right and significant. As for the acoustics, every nuance was clearly audible from my seat near the front of the upper tier, although there were rather ominous-looking freestanding panels placed behind the musicians.
"Love and Loss"
Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra
David Porcelijn (conductor)
Merlyn Quaife (soprano)
Thursday 5 April 2001
Federation Court Hall, Hobart
Foss: Night Music for John Lennon
Prokofiev: Romeo and Juliet - Suite No.2
Poulenc: La Voix humaine
The Tasmanian Symphony is generally recognized as one of Australia's finest small orchestras, particularly following its association with Maestro Porcelijn. This program began with contemporary American composer Lukas Foss' Night Music for John Lennon, a mostly solemn piece thankfully free of Lennon-McCartney quotations, though it recalls the general spirit of Sergeant Pepper in a rhythmic brass passage. An all-stops-out finale features, oddly, a musical saw. (Well, perhaps it was an electric guitar, but it sounded like a musical saw.) Prokofiev's familiar music for Romeo and Juliet was a rousing audience-pleaser. After the interval came a semi-staged presentation of the more adventurous La Voix humaine, a collaboration between Francis Poulenc and Jean Cocteau. This one-person opera was sung by Merlyn Quaife, known as a Mozart performer and also as a soprano willing to venture into less comfortable terrain.
Quaife acted the pants off this role, reclining on the chaise, perching nervously on the edge of the chair, clutching the telephone to her like a hot water bottle, entwining the cord around her fingers.
The stage was set with a large vase of enormous palm fronds and gladioli on a Victorian occasional table, a chaise longue, a chair and a small table next to it. Miss Quaife, clad in oyster satin peignoir and glossy but bedraggled hair, entered in a sort of cowed drama queen fashion, clutching an old-fashioned black telephone. She portrayed, in English, a woman whose lover (and possibly husband) has left her for Another, leaving his dog behind. The role is sung as an extended telephone call, in the course of which she cajoles, implores, whines, demands, admits (truthfully?) to a suicide attempt, grapples with the vagaries of an imperfect telephone system and finally submits with dignity to the inevitable... for the time being, one suspects. Quaife acted the pants off this role, reclining on the chaise, perching nervously on the edge of the chair, clutching the telephone to her like a hot water bottle, entwining the cord around her fingers. Her singing was a miracle of timing, rubato and immaculate diction, the only problem being a lack of audibility when the orchestra was in full cry. Could this have been due to the acoustics of the hall, or a lack of restraint on the part of the conductor?
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"A Torrent of Tchaikovsky"
Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra
David Porcelijn (conductor)
Roger Woodward (piano)
Saturday 7 April 2001
Federation Court Hall, Hobart
Tchaikovsky:
Marche Slave, op.31
Piano Concerto No.1 in B flat minor, op. 23
Symphony No. 6 in B minor, op. 74, "Pathétique"
This program might as aptly have been titled "A Handful
of Chestnuts." No doubt designed to show off the TSO's discipline and ability to
deal with the standard romantic repertoire as well as to attract a
bread-and-butter audience, this was a well-attended concert and one of the
Festival's closing attractions. After a jolly rendition of the Marche Slave,
Roger Woodward brought his customary authority to bear on the Piano Concerto No. 1, seeming amused at the rousing applause after the first movement. You just knew there would be lots more after the Allegro molto vivace of the
"Pathétique," which of course there was. The orchestra maintained their
composure through all this, happy no doubt for the punters to get their money's
worth. There did seem to be something missing in this concert however; when
pieces of such familiarity are performed, one does look for some fresh light to
be thrown on them.
I could hear every exquisite note of the T'ang Quartet, and wondered if acoustical difficulties might account for the occasional lack of audibility in La Voix humaine (at least from my seat on the ground floor at far right). During the Tchaikovsky concert, however, when I was sitting in yet another part of the auditorium (ground floor far left), the violins took on a very nasty shrieking tone in the upper part of their range, a noise which could only be attributed to the venue. Let us hope someone has noticed this who is in a position to do something about it. Otherwise, a most successful conclusion to the serious music aspects of the first - now-to-be biennial - Tasmanian arts festival.
© andante Corp. April 2001. All rights reserved.
