review: THE DEGENERATE AND THE FOP, Sarahlouise Owens soprano, Colleen Rae-Gerrard piano. At Wesley Music Centre, October 21.

Reviewed by Tony Magee

In this delightful program of song, presented by Sarahlouise Owens and Colleen Rae-Gerrard for Art Song Canberra, the material was eclectic and unusual, often humorous, sometimes delicate and sensitive and always very entertaining.

Owens is a skilled and experienced performer of the older European genre of cabaret, securely founded in the underground and sometimes sleazy and dangerous networks of 1920s and 1930s Berlin and even earlier in Paris. In this repertoire she has few peers. Diction, delivery and exquisite pronunciation of the two languages, combined with a beautifully flexible voice carry the songs through soft romantic delicacies, delicious sting-in-the-tail jibes, soaring crescendos and powerful high-register climaxes.

Owen’s voice also seems founded in an older school of vocal style and tone production and on several occasions during the concert, I found myself thinking of the great Maggie Teyte.

Beginning with a selection of five cabaret songs by Dominick Argento, the bracket showcased the composer’s eclectic style, which presented continuous challenges for the performers, who had to quickly turn from the unpredictable and unusual melodic and chordal structure of “Who Could Have Known” through the bawdy and funny “Luckiest Woman” to the gentle “You”, all handled with aplomb and panache.

A delightful bracket of three pieces by Poulenc followed, grouped as “Banalités”. The highlight was “Hotel” which Owens introduced as possibly “the laziest song ever written”. Rae-Gerrard’s accompaniments were exquisite during these pieces and both performers captured the mood and sublime delicacy of these beautifully.

Max Reger’s “Abschied” is a song similar in style to some of those by Mahler and Richard Strauss. Rae-Gerrard achieved a beautiful cantabile tone in several piano-only melodic passages during this and the following “Maria Wiegenlied”, this time paying homage to Brahms.

The first act closed with some of the most anticipated and appreciated repertoire by the audience and this reviewer, Satie’s “Je to veux” and “Diva du l’Empire”, superbly performed by both artists, the luscious French language once again demonstrating Owen’s mastery of it.

Highlights from Act II included three songs by Sir William Walton - all beautiful pieces with far ranging and diverse vocal melodies and piano accompaniments. 

Peter J Casey’s brilliant and satirical “I Am Sick to Death of Hearing About the Weimar Republic”, a tongue-in-cheek musical homage to Kurt Weill, was delivered with comic intensity and style, although also the only time during the recital where the balance favoured the piano a little too much. Owen’s diction in her own language, curiously, wavers somewhat and is not to the same standard as her perfect French and German. None-the-less, a still creditable performance.

Reynaldo Hahn’s “Chanson d’Autumn” and “Nocturne” saw a return to the French repertoire and were very beautiful renditions - mournful, soulful and searching - with gorgeous piano accompaniments by Rae-Gerrard.

The program concluded with Weill’s “Berlin I’m licht” and “Buddy on the Nightshift”, the latter being from his “Lunchtime Follies”, first produced in Brooklyn in 1942. The last two lines, “I’ll follow you, you’ll follow me, and how can we go wrong”, aptly summed up a fabulous and entertaining afternoon of song from two very professional performers.

Review: DON GIOVANNI, by Wolfgang Mozart, at SCM Music Workshop, October 18 2018

From the program cover, image by Isabella Andronos

Reviewed by Tony Magee

Sydney Conservatorium of Music Opera School – Con Opera for short – presented an excellent and engaging production of Mozart’s Don Giovanni.

Classified by Mozart in his own catalogue as an Opera Buffa, the work blends comedy and melodrama with some serious action and even supernatural elements. 

Director Matthew Barclay has updated the setting into modern times, this light-hearted romp being set amongst a backdrop of film sets, Hollywood glamour, deceit, ribald sexual flings, news, television crews and gossip columnists. There is much for the youthful cast to get their teeth into and have a great deal of fun with.

Sung in Italian with sur-titles, the entire cast sang extremely well.

Jeremy Dube gives an excellent and sustained performance with fine comic acting and excellent singing in the role of Leporello. Nik Roglich’s entrance and rich baritone voice as The Commendatore was most engaging, albeit short, as he was murdered within the first five minutes by the Don, only to return mysteriously in Act II in a different guise.

As Don Giovanni, Haotian Qi gives a suitably enigmatic performance, very much in the style of Alfie in the film of the same name. Dressed in a white suit, he pulled off the dashing but shallow play-boy convincingly.

Henry Wright as Masetto and Josi Ann Ellman as Zerlina both gave excellent performances, vocally and in character, particularly in their long and involved dressing room scene in Act I.

A major highlight in the production which involves the entire cast – soloists and chorus – is the masked ball, which includes an hilarious line-dancing segment, choreographed to Mozart’s original score.

Throughout the performance the orchestra under the direction of Dr Stephen Mould played superbly. Beautifully in tune they were perfectly balanced with the singers, playing a stylish and professional accompaniment.

My only slight criticism is that for the most part, the soloists all sound pretty much the same tonally. No-one really stands out with a seriously unique voice. I hope the students will be and can be encouraged to explore and develop special unique sounds and qualities to their voices, which can carry them further into professional roles and where they can maximize their chances of all being in demand.

With this standard of singing and performance prevalent at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, the future certainly looks bright for the continuation of excellent international opera standards in this country.

Review: "SCM CHAMBER CHOIR", at Verbrugghen Hall, October 17 2018

Reviewed by Tony Magee

In an inspired and brilliantly executed opening, the Sydney Conservatorium of Music Chamber Choir segued two contrasting settings of the 12th Century chant "O quam preciosa", composed almost 1000 years apart.

Hildegard von Bingen's music was thrust into the 20th century spotlight with the 1985 album, A Feather On the Breath of God, one of the top selling classical music releases for that year. She was an Abbess, composer, mystic and poet of the 12th century. Also author of the text, the chant celebrates the arrival into the world of the Christ Child, through the vessel of the female body.

As a further enhancement, an East meets West philosophy was applied with Chinese erhu and guzheng instruments replacing the traditional hurdy-gurdy accompaniment of the day, played with sensitivity and style by Nicholas Ng and Vicki Zheng respectively.

The piece was beautifully performed with the tenors and basses setting up a drone foundation over which sopranos and altos soared with melody sung in antiphon.

The second setting is by contemporary Australian composer Ross Edwards. In this, the virgin is a metaphor for the Earth-mother, who gives birth to a hoped-for bright new era. Listening to this performance, I found my mind contemplating today's fragile and dismal international political climate, and was comforted by this very welcome spark of hope and joy.

Eriks Esenvalds' "Evening" is a piece of beautiful delicacy and warmth, fluttering leaves, gentle evening light and peace. To quote Gabrielle Jackson's program notes, "The piece doesn't really go anywhere - it simply is - full of innocence and wonderment at the close of day."

Balancing her time between Canberra and Sydney, composer Olivia Swift's "The Leaves Drop Down" is a complex choral work, alternately delicate and demanding. Generally, the balance in this and indeed the entire concert was excellent between all vocal parts, with the exception of a moment of doubt in a tenor section entry. A beautiful work.

Carlo Gesualdo (1566 - 1613)

Don Carlo Gesualdo's final madrigal, "Quando ridente e bella" followed, sung by just five members of the 24 member choir. Way ahead of his time, 16th century Gesualdo is remembered both as a composer of intense expression and chromaticism - something not heard again until the late 19th century - and also a tragically tormented soul, wracked with guilt and shame due to his ghastly murder of his wife and her lover.

One commentator of the day noted, "Gesualdo was afflicted by a vast hoard of demons which gave him no peace, unless ten or twelve young men, whom he kept specially for the purpose, were to beat him violently three times a day." The sub-group of five handled the complex harmonies very well, with good balance and varied dynamics. Shaping of phrases needs more work from them, something that does develop over time, with familiarity of performance and rehearsal.

Conductor and music director Paul Stanhope showcased one of his own pieces, "The Land Is Healed: Ban.garay!" Full of beautiful and at times complex harmonies and rich in texture, the choir developed intense dynamics. This was choral writing of the first rate and one of the highlights of the program.

The erhu and guzheng instruments returned to the stage to accompany the choir in two Chinese folk songs arranged by Julian Yu. Originally from Beijing, Yu is now based in Australia and coached the choir in Mandarin pronunciation for this performance of delicate dynamic shading.

Benjamin Britten's "The Evening Primrose" and "The Ballad of the Green Barron" followed. These pieces once again demonstrated the choirs excellent pitch and intonation. Also evident were beautifully shaped lines and phrases and mostly excellent diction.

The concert closed with "Christ the King" by New Zealand born Clare Maclean. She is particularly influenced by Renaissance repertoire and early polyphony. The piece is magnificent in its harmonies and structure and the choir made full advantage of the richness of the choral writing and sounded superb. A fitting conclusion to a wonderful program, as stylistically the presentation almost came full circle.

Review: "EVITA", by Andrew Lloyd Weber and Tim Rice. At Sydney Opera House, October 17 2018

Reviewed by Tony Magee

Kurt Kansley as Che. Photo by Jeff Busby

Trying to recreate what has already been created seems to me a pursuit of dubious merit. In presenting Evita, Opera Australia have opted for the original direction by Hal Prince and original choreography by Larry Fuller, with the original design by Timothy O'Brien.

The result is a cast seemingly going through the motions rather than the freshness one might expect from new ideas. The premise of "you show me and I'll show them" is all too evident in some of this production.

Having said that, there are some powerful moments that engage. Notably, the cinema scene at the very beginning, the side-on view staging of the Charity Concert and the powerful closing of the first act with "A New Argentina".

By far the star of this production is Kurt Kansley singing the role of Che. His superb diction, brilliant singing voice and powerful characterization underpin the entire show and was a joy to behold. His character also serves to advance the plot significantly.

Notable also was Paulo Szot, perfectly cast as Eva’s military dictator husband Juan Peron. His stunning, rich baritone voice filled the theatre with ease.

The orchestra under the direction of Guy Simpson were superb, displaying perfection in tuning and intonation, thrilling dynamics and majestic playing. The best pit orchestra I have heard and one that could easily hold its own playing the symphonic repertoire.

Alternate actress and singer Jemma Rix as Eva Peron, presented the show's high spot, "Don't Cry for Me Argentina" in a moving and captivating manner. It was also the only time we were really able to hear her excellent singing voice to maximum potential.

Jemma Rix as Eva Peron

Yes, this is a show where everything is pinned on one great number - the rest of the score arguably being one continuous recitative. Puccini achieved a similar result with Turandot, having the great “Nessun Dorma” buried away in Act II.

The plaintive "Another Suitcase in Another Hall" and "High Flying, Adored" are admirable inclusions, but seem placed in a desperate attempt by the composers to add another couple of commercial tunes to keep the audience interested.

The other aspect of this production which deserves praise however, is the ongoing archival film footage, particularly crucial in helping advance the plot during the scenes where Eva Peron travels the world, thrusting Argentina briefly into the international spotlight, as the charismatic and beautiful First Lady engages with other countries, only to be snubbed somewhat by Britain towards the end of her tour.

This brings into perspective in some ways the swift and effective action of Margaret Thatcher years later, when she pounced decisively on Argentina after they invaded the Falklands.

The relentless dependence on rhythmic and melodic motifs and ideas from the earlier and brilliant Jesus Christ Superstar is also something that wore thin with this reviewer. Having just returned from a delightful student performance of Mozart's Don Giovanni at The Con, the contrast between inspired genius and sustained mediocrity was well and truly rammed home.

Evita is a flawed opera in so many ways, however this production is none-the-less slickly produced. Fans will no doubt be delighted. I found it tedious.

Review - “A NIGHT IN PARIS”, Andrew Rumsey and James Huntingford, piano duo. At Wesley Music Centre, October 13 2018

Andrew Rumsey (left) and James Huntingford

Reviewed by Tony Magee

Piano duos of fame almost always seem to share a common gene pool - one thinks immediately of the sisters Labèque, the brothers Kontarsky, father and son Vladimir and Vovka Ashkenazy and father and daughter Emil and Elena Gilels. Go back a little further in time and you find the brothers Rubinstein and the sisters Boulanger. Even further and we arrive at the most famous piano duo of all - Wolfgang and Nannerl Mozart.

Andrew Rumsey and James Huntingford share a different kind of musical unity and one that works brilliantly. They share the same age, interests, academic institution and the ability to work together in rehearsal and performance with ease and flexibility.

Opening with Poulenc’s “Sonata for Piano Four Hands”, the concert bounced into life with a bright fanfare opening, settling back into lyrical and soulful playing. The pianists captured playful, almost child-like qualities in the second movement with gentleness and delicacy, before a soft-landing jazz chord to finish the piece.

Debussy’s “L’Isle Joyeuse” for solo piano, is based around the relationships between the whole-tone scale, the lydian mode and the diatonic scale. Huntingford played this with sensitivity and poise, capturing the mystique of the Channel Islands, which Debussy had visited with his wife and which inspired the piece.

Paul Dukas wrote “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” in 1897 and it is originally an orchestral work. Many people are familiar with it through Walt Disney’s animation as part of “Fantasia”, Mickey Mouse being the hapless apprentice. In this, the pianists played with majestic assurity, capturing the relentless marching of the broken, wooden broom handles, whilst also hinting at the ever frightening scenario of chaos and despair suffered by the apprentice.

Saint-Saëns’ “Dance Macabre” was a doubly appropriate inclusion in the program, not only for its authentic French connection, but also because Halloween approaches rapidly later this month. Death calls forth the dead from their graves to dance for him on Halloween, whilst he plays the fiddle. The upper part was played with lyric beauty by Huntingford, whilst the rumbling and menacing bass was handled by Rumsey, occasionally somewhat too heavy-handedly, but none-the-less leaving the audience in no doubt as to the terrifying nature of the spectacle.

The second half of the concert opened with Gabriel Faure’s famous “Pavane”, Op.50 and was the only piece on the program that was dubious. The intimate orchestrations were lost in the translation to piano duet - heavy doubling of thirds, triple octaves and a grandiose approach somewhat destroyed the allure and delicacy of the original.

Lully’s “The Ceremonial March of the Turks” by contrast worked brilliantly as a piano duet adaption, the arrangement being by Huntingford. The pair played it with majestic and regal style, showcasing everything that is possible from a piano in volume, timbre, sonority and texture. This was a superb performance and a highlight of the concert.

The last time a piano duet reduction of Camille Saint-Saëns’ “Carnival of the Animals” was performed in Canberra was in 1996 at the Royal Theatre, with pianists Dudley Moore and Rena Fruchter. It was also one of the most disastrous concerts in the history of live performance. William Hoffmann’s review in a local newspaper of the time carried the headline, “Bumbling Ineptitude from Dudley Moore”.

Rumsey and Huntingford played the piece with sparkling panache, uncanny musical unity and understanding and pianistic skill that showcased their talents and the music superbly. The linking dialogue by Ogden Nash was wryly delivered with suitable tough-in-cheek humour by John Rumsey, father of Andrew. This was the major work in the second half of the program and particular highlights in capturing the essence of the animals portrayed included the Lion’s roar, at least three different Cuckoos (there is only one in the original, played by clarinet), The Aquarium and Le Grand Finale, where all the animals come together.

A great night’s entertainment from two outstanding young pianists.

Also published in City New Digital Edition and Canberra Critics Circle blog.

Mental health journeys: Martin Buzacott and Russell Torrance

ABC Classic FM presenters Russell Torrance (left) and Martin Buzacott (right) working in the studio together.

By Martin Buzacott and Russell Torrance

It’s Mental Health Week, an annual, national event that aims to improve community awareness and interest in mental health and wellbeing. World Mental Health Day is marked every year on 10 October, and this year, ABC Classic FM presenters Russell Torrance (Classic Breakfast) and Martin Buzacott (Mornings) share their own mental health journeys.Listen to them in conversation, or read their personal journeys below.

Martin Buzacott

I’ve suffered from depression all my life but never sought treatment for it until middle age, because, like so many others, I was a victim of the “mental health stigma” which made me think that anyone who consulted a psychologist must be crazy.

In the end, I only went because my condition had become so serious that friends and family were too frightened to leave me alone anymore, and rightly so.

The first thing the psychologist asked me was if I’d ever been to see a mental health professional before. I said no, and she replied that irrespective of why I was there, it was clearly an overdue visit, because everyone should get a mental health check-up from time to time, just like we get a physical check-up from a GP.

Going to see that professional turned my life around. It was 12 years ago, and while I still have to manage my depression, the last 12 years have been the happiest and most productive of my life. I can date the turnaround in my quality of life to that very first consultation.

One of my major sources of mental stress is my workaholism, which again has been lifelong, manifested in perfectionism and an inability to achieve a satisfactory work-life balance, leading me to “crash-and-burn” every few years.

Again, this situation improved after seeking professional help.

Originally, I was employed by the ABC as a manager, and the ABC enrolled me in its Advanced Managers Training Program—a 15-month elite course that culminated in a 6-month period under the one-on-one guidance of a management mentor.

As it happened, my mentor was a trained psychologist who looked on in horror at my routine 100+ hour working weeks and—on one occasion—39 consecutive days without a single day off.

I still remember him writing down on a piece of paper just what he considered my job to be. It was just one word, only five letters long.

T-O-X-I-C.

He looked me in the eye and told me that if I kept this up, within a year I would be dead. Not burnt-out. Literally dead.

As a direct result of that straight-talking mental health intervention, I quit my management job and within a few weeks was picking up wonderful, satisfying freelance work with ABC Classic FM. And look at me now, here in the best job I’ve ever had, managing my stress, and, as in the case above, all of it because I took professional advice.

So having been through the mill on mental health issues over so many years, what advice would I offer to others in the same situation?

For me, there are four key things that I personally have found useful in managing the situation— diet, exercise, music and professional help.

I follow a good diet based mainly on whole foods, and I avoid alcohol entirely (my first psychologist’s advice was that if I drank heavily, there was nothing she could do to help me.)

It’s amazing how much better the world looks after a nutritious hot meal of natural food! A simple plate of baked hot potatoes is the ultimate comfort food.

I take daily exercise.

Runners will tell you that “Any day when you go running is a good day”, and I agree with them.

Most people think they’re exercising for their physical health. I exercise for my mental health first and foremost, and the physical health simply follows on as a by-product from that.

For me and many others, it’s simply impossible to feel depressed while running or cycling in the fresh air at a good rhythm and cadence.

Music also plays a role.

When I’ve been in the darkest depths, I’ve usually felt like a dead man walking, or like I’ve been in free-fall through the universe. But amazingly, I’ve never been so far gone that a piece of music couldn’t reach me. Even in my darkest hours when there was nothing to hold onto, I felt that some specific piece of music, maybe just one—and it could be in any genre—somehow comforted me in the moment.

A theatre-director friend of mine says he found a similar thing with reading poetry.

No matter how empty the universe at the time, there will be some work of art, no matter how unlikely, that will reassure you that you’re not alone.

Finally, but most importantly, never ever shy away from seeking professional mental health care. It’s common sense to do so, but somehow people tend to see it as an embarrassment, a disgrace, or an admission of failure.

In reality, it’s the exact opposite.

If you’ve got the courage to call for professional help, you’re almost certainly going to make it back to a happy, successful life. I’m proof of that. If it hadn’t been for the wise, sympathetic and skilled counselling that I received, I wouldn’t be here today. 

Russell Torrance

Mental health issues first knocked at my door when I was in my 20s, although it’s funny that I now see I’ve had them all my life. I’d just started working in radio, was living in London, and life was good.

And then one day I left the office to get a sandwich at lunchtime and just stopped in my tracks. I broke into a sweat, and everything around me suddenly seemed like a threat. I had to run back to the office and it took me most of the day to calm down.

Anxiety happens a lot for me—it’s never quite as memorable as that first panic attack. It’s usually a vague feeling of jumpiness and an inability to focus or settle, accompanied by increased breathing. Sometimes it feels amazing—the anxiety turns me into a superhero, I feel like I can do anything. Except I always know there’s a fall coming.

And that fall is depression—the flip side of the coin. It’s hard to describe to someone who doesn’t experience it. It’s not always about feeling sad—in fact, it seldom is. For me, it’s like most of my brain has ceased working and I’m left with basic functions only. Or, perhaps a more appropriate analogy would be that of a computer—so tangled up with what it’s doing that it’s crashed, and you’re just about to “turn it off and on again”. I wished I could do that with my mind.

Depression for me often means just a feeling of being distant, watching life like it’s happening on TV and not for real. Not looking forward to anything or having a sense of dread when having to be in a social situation. Never having enough energy to do anything that isn’t absolutely necessary.

I don’t know whether it’s a blessing or a curse that when I’m suffering from depression, I’m able to carry on as normal and hardly anyone notices. In fact, people are often surprised when I tell them I suffer from depression at all.

This ability to carry on has meant that it was a long, long time before I sought help. It also means that I constantly tell myself the wrong thing—that I just need to pull my socks up and get on with it, that it’s all in my mind, that I can cope with it by myself.

It was a mystery to me for a long time as to where my anxiety and depression came from. If you read self-help books, they often state that childhood trauma or significant events can trigger mental health issues. None of these has happened in my life. In fact, apart from losing grandparents at a young age, my childhood was as happy as I could imagine it to be and I continue to be very close to my parents and sisters.

I think it comes from self-talk. I constantly criticise myself—I wouldn’t dream in a million years of saying to others what I say to myself every day. Sometimes it’s discernible voices, but most of the time it’s noise—a low-level buzz. I don’t realise how it affects me until I stop to think about it, or someone points it out.

Sometimes nothing I do seems good enough, by my own standards, no matter how much I worry about it or exhaust myself in the process.

As I get older, I’m learning to cope with these issues to some degree, as opposed to just letting it happen and weathering the storm. Exercise helps. It creates endorphins, and it’s a novelty to be physically—instead of emotionally—exhausted for once. Exercise is good too because I feel like I’m doing something for me, and that “me time” makes me feel better.

It can be hard to stay away from alcohol—I don’t mean getting drunk, but rather using a glass of wine or a beer to help with the symptoms of anxiety. It feels good in the short term but always is worse in the end.

Talking to people is for me the very best coping mechanism. I’m lucky in that my wife is always willing to listen and never judges—although I’m sure she gets worried. Talking to a professional is the best course of action. It helps me realise where I’m going wrong with my thought patterns and long-held beliefs. We’re lucky in Australia that access to mental health support is usually just a matter of a simple referral from a GP.

There are some important things to remember about mental health issues that have helped me a lot. The two most vital are:   

• 
  That it never goes away, you’re never cured. And I find that quite liberating—it lets me get on with the coping side of things and learning to live my life as best I can.
• 
  No matter what I’m feeling, no matter how bad things seem, I will always feel better soon—always. And the feeling of the clouds clearing—and for someone who suffers from depression it’s always a temporary break in the weather—is the best feeling imaginable.
• First published at ABC News, October 8, 2018