Presentation is not
the strong point of this disc of late
twentieth century music by Australian
composers. As will be noted above there
is no information provided as to when
or where (or even why) the recordings
were made. The disc does not even have
a label name to go with the number and
the booklet (using the term in its broadest
possible sense) is a single piece of
paper, picture on the front and "notes"
on the back. The detail in these notes
is astonishing. In reference to track
9 the notes say, "Ann Carr-Boyd
is featured with her colourful ‘Look
at the Stars’." There is more information
in the track listing on the back of
the CD, which at least points out that
there are three pieces. In relation
to track 4 the notes state that Roslyn
Dunlop "displays great imagination
in her interpretation of the music".
She may well, but this tells us nothing
about the music or her interpretation
of it. Even the title of the disc is
unexplained. What any of it has to do
with champagne breakfasts is anyone’s
guess.
Not wanting to sound
too miserable however, it should be
understood from the outset that the
music on this disc is actually rather
interesting. One would hesitate to call
it ‘modern’ Australian music, because,
for the most part, it is all resolutely
traditional. This would probably give
the disc greater appeal than would a
disc of cutting edge electronics. Most
enjoyable are the three pieces called
Strings Sonorous 1, 2 and 3 by Eric
Gross and the two piano sonatas of Vernon
Lisle. The Gross is an example of lush
post-romantic harmony performed with
real beauty of sound by the strings
of the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra.
Although a short work Gross maintains
enough intensity in the writing to give
the impression of discourse on a much
larger scale. The Lisle Piano sonata
no 1 is a minimalist-inspired work,
juxtaposing vigorous rhythmic writing
with interpolations of a more melodic
kind. The writing is taut and the performance
(by Lisle’s late wife Joan Chatres Lisle)
is compelling, even if the recorded
sound is a little hard. Some greater
ambience in the recording process would
have given that lift to the piano sound
which allows bloom to develop. This
is more apparent in the second sonata
(presumably recorded at a different
time or place) in which the piano sound
is excellent. This is a large-scale
work in three movements, the last of
which is a lively jig. Although consciously
traditional in language Lisle’s ability
to handle harmony and create plangent
melodic lines (notable in the elegant
middle movement) is considerable.
Of interest for reasons
of simple beauty is Colin Brumby’s Borromeo
Suite for flute and guitar. It could
be said that this music verges on the
trite, but there is actually something
immediately attractive about its very
classical simplicity. The work is named
after the Italian Borromeo family whose
home is on the Isola Bella in Lake Maggiore
in Northern Italy. The other two movements
are named after the other main islands
of the lake. Although there does not
appear to be any specific attempt at
programmatic writing, there is perhaps
some aspect of the lazy beauty of summer
days in the Italian lake region in this
music; no great complexity but a simple
effectiveness, which tends more towards
the ‘charming’ than anything else.
Only two tracks make
any use of particularly modern approaches.
The work for solo clarinet – Pastels
(1985) – by Ian Dunlop employs some
more advanced instrumental techniques.
It displays in the performance of Roslyn
Dunlop a wide range of dynamics, articulations
and colours. There are several interesting
noises that one suspects might not by
entirely as the score suggests, but
the sound-world of this short piece
is interesting nonetheless. Derek Strahan’s
Escorts (1988) uses fewer extended techniques
in the individual instrumental parts,
but employs some complicated ensemble
relationships between the flute, saxophone
and piano. The Berky Trio negotiate
these with considerable flair, and also
manage to maintain an adequate balance
between the flute and saxophone timbres
– no mean feat.
While one remains uncertain
as to whom this disc is aimed at (the
appearance being that it was made for
the benefit of the composers represented
rather than for any potential listener)
it remains an interesting collection
of music showing one side of twentieth
century Australian musical thought.
Peter Wells