Cocktails and concert anyone? On a cold Sunday afternoon? To be ensconced in the Recital Hall and warmly wrapped up in the blanket of romantic music whilst the cold winds swept around Angel Place is rather lovely. Except one has to go home at the end.
There is poetry in music and music in poetry and melody is the operative word in both. Under the guidance of concertmaster and principal Rachael Beesley, The Australian Romantic & Classical Orchestra sought to bring us an afternoon of musical poetry. This is a particularly interesting orchestra whose mantra is to “Inspire, Educate, Enlighten” and it is apparent from the orchestra’s composition that they hit a few of their targets. There was a welcome balance of gender, age and race in the orchestral members; giving one an impression that knowledge, perspective and passion is shared.
We began with Mendelsshon’s String Symphony in B minor No. 10. He was 13 when he wrote it. Way to feel inferior and inadequate … there is Felix writing this stuff at the age of 13. What was I doing at 13? Well, nothing remotely as remarkable. Put the daunting thoughts aside we have Edvard Grieg. He too produces the good stuff but thankfully, not as a precocious 13 year old. Hjertesar (The Wounded Heart) was particularly haunting and heartbreaking and, I thought, one of the best pieces of the afternoon. Wipe the tears away with Varen (The Last Spring). What followed was a series of Grieg’s melodies from Holberg’s time. A little less moving as some players seemed to be playing with more restraint than others so that the enthusiasm for the pieces was varied.
After interval was a novel experience – four string quartets playing Johannes van Bree’s Allegro in D minor for Four String Quartets. I have seen a few string quartets in my time but not four together on the stage, chasing each other’s musical phrases. It required excellent timing and for the most part, this was carried off.
The hit of the afternoon was probably Puccini’s Crisantemi, most eloquently performed. More popularly known for his opera work, this elegy is dark-hued with two melodic ideas playing out the grief. Next to me were seated some stereotypical long haired young musicians who were so taken they began subconsciously to play their air violins. Just their hands, moving subtly across their bodies with rapt expressions on their faces. This is what any performer wants, that moment of total engagement with the audience, and just as with The Wounded Heart, we were there. This orchestra’s strength seems to lie in the elegiac. We finish the afternoon with Dvorak Serenade in E major for Strings Op.22 – Dvorak is a safe and standard finale for an orchestral concert. American classical music of the twentieth drew heavily on Dvorak’s style and so there is always an element of subconscious familiarity with Dvorak’s work.
As an end note: the orchestra wore their blacks. Some men had suits of various fit, one desperately needed an iron. Women’s blacks ranged from pantsuits to formal gowns. It is as though they all grabbed the nearest black thing from their wardrobe. You are not in the pit anymore. We can see you. And it is 2018 and the Recital Hall should have been full. If you want to reach out and inspire, educate and enlighten and fill up that Hall, you have to give us a bit of a visual feast as well as an aural one. Play on as many senses of ours as you can. It does not mean spending much, just a thought of a theme and how that might be achieved. And now and again, make that eye-contact with us; share your joy in playing with us. We are the other half of the entertainment.
Kate Stratford – On The Town
