Carl Vine is one 
                  of the best known names in the Australian Composers Series 
                  from ABC. This programme, recorded in 2003, shows him to be 
                  as broad-ranging and attractively dissonant - when necessary 
                  - as in all his other works. The Oboe Concerto for instance 
                  seems to flirt with some Eastern-sounding roulades. Vine ensures 
                  that the tension between the solo instrument and the orchestra 
                  is fully maintained – with the latter picking up a tense and 
                  angular dance pattern. At some points, so sweeping is his writing, 
                  that Vine almost convinced me that Richard Strauss and Leonard 
                  Bernstein were cohabiting under the same compositional roof. 
                  He spins a limpid and leisurely slow movement, delightfully 
                  played by Diana Doherty and returns to the dance for the sprightly 
                  finale. 
                The Suite from The 
                  Tempest consists of six compact movements. They’re all characterised 
                  with great precision and an ear for colour. This is a very visual 
                  and entirely stimulating work, often resplendent, sometimes 
                  dark. The storm affords him opportunities for dashes of rhythmic 
                  drama. The Conspirators is tensely argued, laced with 
                  intimations of evil and harbouring an almost vicious intent. 
                  At times he has the eye and the ear of a Prokofiev for such 
                  matters. By contrast there’s something reflective of Debussy 
                  in the Ferdinand and Miranda scene with its dextrous 
                  flute delicacy. Never stinting the drama Vine takes care to 
                  explore the conflicting human vistas in this suite. 
                Smith’s Alchemy 
                  refers to the Smith Quartet who first performed Vine’s Third 
                  Quartet  - from which this work derives. The alchemy involved 
                  was in transforming the four instruments into a single “super” 
                  instrument. In this larger version the rhythmic energy crackles 
                  and the slow movement retains its haunting quality. Finally 
                  there’s the Canzona which has the feel at least of a 
                  concerto grosso. It possesses a stately ear for the lyric with 
                  a real “down the ages” melody from around 6:20 presaging Elizabethan 
                  dancerie. Later on it even generates some Nymanesque moments. 
                  It’s a delightful work, full of fancy and excitement. 
                Vine collectors 
                  can rest assured that the playing is first class, as it’s been 
                  with all the other examples in the series that I’ve heard so 
                  far. On this showing the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra has nothing 
                  to fear from its more famous Antipodean rivals.
                  
                  Jonathan Woolf