This compilation takes 
                as its theme the ideas of timelessness 
                and landscape. As is the way with such 
                things one feels both curiosity and 
                frustration in equal measure; curiosity 
                as to the bigger picture of each work, 
                frustration that we can only hear snippets, 
                or isolated movements. Still, that’s 
                the name of the game, and if one’s interest 
                is stimulated then one knows where ABC’s 
                catalogue is to be found. 
              
 
              
There’s time only for 
                a few brief comments. Most, if not all, 
                of the works cleave to the romantic, 
                or vaguely neo-classical idioms. Some, 
                like Ross Edwards’ employ native instruments 
                such as the didjeridu (that’s ABC’s 
                spelling and I suppose they should know) 
                and, like his, most are restful and 
                lyric in the non-supine sense of the 
                words. This isn’t an easy listening 
                sampler – it’s much too full of grace 
                and melodic curve for that. Sculthorpe 
                fuses such lyricism with an evocative 
                Last Post reminiscence and there’s 
                fine pleine air from Koehne. 
                Grainger is here, albeit only 2:30 of 
                him, and he stands as a Mount Rushmore. 
                I liked the old fashioned Westlake and 
                the Neapolitan song aura of the Hobson/Hirschfelder. 
              
 
              
One strand that runs 
                through the disc is the visual-filmic 
                element; several of these pieces derive 
                from films or are themselves cinematic 
                in sound; the John and the Meale are 
                especially fine examples. There are 
                also hints of other kinds of Australianness 
                in the Russian Rag by Kats-Chernin though 
                it would be nice if sleeve writers and 
                cultural commentators could find another 
                topic of burning import to take their 
                minds off the hoary old subject of "Anglo-centrism." 
                - whatever that is. Miriam Hyde plays 
                the slow movement of her Concerto, one 
                bathed in Rachmaninovian light. There’s 
                a sample of Hill’s impressive quartet 
                writing (get those Marco Polo Quartets 
                and Symphonies while you can). There’s 
                also more Glanville-Hicks (collected 
                edition anyone? I’m waiting) as well 
                as the rippling romance of Carl Vine. 
              
 
              
If your heart’s in 
                the right place I think you’ll come 
                across some new avenues to explore. 
                But Darmstadt hardliners need not apply. 
              
 
              
Jonathan Woolf