Abbey Road tells a story of deep divisions within the Beatles, 50 years on from its release

By Mark Bannerman

Sept 26, 2019, 9:28am

The album's cover would become iconic in popular culture. PHOTO: Iain Macmillan

WHEN Paul McCartney phoned George Martin in early 1969 asking him to produce the album that would become Abbey Road, the producer was hesitant.

The man, who many called the fifth Beatle, was sick of the infighting and spitefulness he had witnessed earlier in the year as the band recorded the tracks for Let it Be.

"It was such an unhappy record, even though there were some great songs on it ... I really believed that was the end of the Beatles," Martin would remark.

With McCartney hanging on the line, Martin told him: "Only if you let me produce it the way we used to do it".

McCartney agreed. Martin asked if John Lennon would agree to the arrangement.

"Honestly, yes," was McCartney's reply.

Years later, Martin would reflect on the situation frankly.

"It was a very happy record. I guess it was happy because everybody thought it was going to be the last," he said.

It's strange to think that, by the time they came to make Abbey Road — which was released 50 years ago today — the Beatles were a load of contradictions.

The most obvious was that while publicly they appeared united, in truth they were sick of the sight of each other.

Just a few months before, George Harrison had famously walked out of the group.

Lennon's response was brutal: "Let's get in Eric [Clapton]. He's just as good and not such a headache".

They had another contradiction too — the biggest band in the world was going broke.

A shaky start in the studio

How they had found themselves in this situation is a story in itself.

Suffice to say it caused even greater divisions as Lennon, McCartney and Ringo Starr turned to the rapacious US accountant Allen Klein to save them, alienating McCartney.

Now here they were back in the studio to make a record that would channel their creativity and get their company Apple out of financial trouble.

Just days before recording was scheduled, John and Yoko were injured in a car crash. PHOTO: AP Steve Sands, file

The good news came in the quality of the songs they brought to the sessions.

Bizarrely, many of the tracks they would record had begun their life during the miserable recording of Let it Be.

The bad news though, was that for all Lennon's assurances that he would put down the gloves and play good music, he was in the grip of heroin addiction.

A car crash, addiction, arguments and missed sessions

Things didn't start well as they came together in the studio.

Just days before recording was scheduled to begin on July 1, Lennon and Yoko Ono were injured in a car crash. Lennon had 17 stitches and Yoko, too, was badly hurt.

As a result of the accident, Lennon missed the first sessions.

Meanwhile, anticipating his arrival, he demanded a double bed be installed in the studio with a microphone that would allow Yoko to add her thoughts to the creative process.

When he recovered from the accident, the first song set for recording was McCartney's — Maxwell's Silver Hammer.

Like every Beatles album, there was one clanger. According to Lennon, this was it. He refused to play on the track.

Unfazed, the band continued on, but not without eruptions.

According to music writer Ian MacDonald, the sessions went from "cold tolerance to childish violence".

"Lennon twice argued savagely with McCartney, at one point taking a less than peaceful swing at his wife Linda," he wrote.

When asked about Abbey Road, Lennon downplayed the sessions, remarking that all that he could remember was recording Come Together and it was like a haze.

Little wonder, really. Lennon, torn by his narcotics addiction, had effectively surrendered his ego and sense of self to the drug and Yoko Ono, other band members would say.

From 'insignificant song scraps' to hits

As it happened, Come Together had taken its title from a political slogan LSD guru Timothy Leary used.

Its musical form had come from the Chuck Berry song, You Can't Catch Me. Lennon had taken the song and slowed it down. If anyone missed the musical similarities, he even used the same line: "Here comes old flat-top".

Elsewhere, Lennon's contribution was uneven. He described Polythene Pam, Mean Mister Mustard and Sun King as insignificant song scraps.

In many ways, he was right. But the key to Abbey Road is found in the more egalitarian nature of the record.

For the first time, the band fully acknowledged George Harrison's talents with Here Comes the Sun and Something (it, too, had its first line stolen from a James Taylor song).

The other key, of course, was Paul McCartney. He'd always been a hard worker, the enthusiast, doubly so now as he tried to make a difficult situation work.

Taking the song scraps from Lennon's musical notebook and working tirelessly with George Martin, he created a song suite for side two of the album.

Then, having recorded the basic backing tracks for each of the segments, the band came together "live" to play overdubs giving the segments a unity and continuity.

McCartney's dedication didn't end there. Each day he would arrive early to re-track and perfect his vocals for key songs, including the voice shredding rocker Oh! Darling.

Despite his heroin haze, Lennon was not going to be upstaged. As the sessions drew to a close, he sensed his own overall contribution lacking.

His response was to focus on the song I Want You. The problem was, he had two versions he liked.

Then, in a masterstroke, he decided to put them together and use a moog-synthesiser to give the song a unique climactic quality with a brutal cut off ending.

Iconic photo nearly didn't happen

As the record moved to its final stages, a cover had to be created. The cover of Abbey Road may now be iconic, but it came as something of an afterthought.

For much of the recording process, the album was tentatively titled Everest. As it happened, it was the brand name of the cigarettes smoked by recording engineer Geoff Emerick.

The original idea had been to fly the group to the Himalayas for the photoshoot, but as Beatles chronicler Mark Lewisohn revealed, they couldn't be bothered.

Instead, they decided to go with a hastily created idea that McCartney had sketched on a piece of paper showing the four crossing the road.

The photo, taken on August 8, would become the most copied image in pop history.

A divided band

The drama and tension were not over, though.

In early September, with Starr in hospital suffering stomach pains, Lennon, McCartney and Harrison convened at the Beatles headquarters in Savile Row to discuss the groups' future.

To keep Starr informed, they recorded the conversation.

Fifty years on, with transcripts of the tape finally made public, it's clear how deep the divisions inside the band really were and how, despite those divisions, attempts were made to find a way forward.

For his part, Lennon demanded they divide up any future albums with four songs apiece and — in a clear attack on McCartney — that they stop putting sub-standard tracks on LP's for the sake of popularity.

Then astonishing everyone, he suggested they do a Christmas record for the fans.

Rebuffed with silence, it is now clear Lennon left the meeting deeply disturbed about what he should do next.

A last-minute bombshell from Lennon

Always impetuous, he held his fire until September 20.

Then, just six days before Abbey Road's release date, he dropped a bombshell — he wanted out. The Beatles were over.

Incredibly, the four agreed it must remain a secret. There were too many business deals yet to be finalised.

Oblivious to all the drama, the fans devoured the record as it hit the shops.

Sales for Abbey Road were bigger than any previous Beatles album. It was just what Apple Corps needed.

It would take another six months for the split to be made public.

In the wake of the break-up, fans would finally hear the fruits of the fractured Let it Be sessions, but in truth, Abbey Road would be the Beatles' final artistic statement.

It's a record with many charms, but the words of the final song recorded by the band, The End, hold a special poignancy: "And in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make".

It was a sentiment that seemed to sum up both the band and the decade it had soundtracked so exquisitely — with all its turmoil, triumphs, heartaches and contradictions.

The dream, however, was over.

First published on ABC News online September 26, 2019

Exquisite guitar work accompanies soaring baritone Carbó

The José Carbó Trio

José Carbó - baritone

Andrew Blanch - guitar

Ariel Nurhadi - guitar

Wesley Uniting Church, Forrest ACT

September 22, 2019

by Tony Magee

WHEN Franz Schubert set the poems of Goethe, Schiller and Müller to music, he frequently used the opportunity to create more of the piano part than simply a pretty accompaniment to a singer’s voice. The piano could also be a character in the story, sometimes an implement, or even a force from nature.

Erlkönig by Moritz von Schwind (1804 - 1871)

In Der Erlkönig (Goethe), the piano represents a galloping horse, thundering through the night. On board are a father, clutching his desperately sick child. Together, the three urgently speed for the nearest medical help.

The singer has to portray four different characters in the lyric. The father, the son, the narrator and also, tragically, death calling to the boy.

All this, when played properly, delivers one of the most captivating pieces of music of the Romantic vocal repertoire.

So closed the first half of a brilliant concert by the José Carbó Trio at Wesley Church, Saturday last.

In arranging the piano accompaniment for two guitars, Andrew Blanch and Ariel Nurhadi took on one of the most difficult musical challenges imaginable, something which baritone José Carbó talked at length about before they performed the piece. 

Musically, the playing was sublime and provided an exquisite base over which señor Carbó sang the four characters so well, one could easily distinguish who was who, aided by his impeccable German diction.

L-R: Ariel Nurhadi, José Carbó & Andrew Blanch. Photo: Will Perez Ronderos

The duo guitars don’t quite capture the thundering hooves of the horse, however they bring to the piece a fresh new vibrancy, in which the pianistic sense of urgency is replaced by multiple senses of serenity, calm, forboding and deception.

I think there is more to explore right at the end, as the guitars really need to portray the horse pulling up to a stop - they have arrived. Devastatingly, the singer mournfully and slowly reveals: “In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.” - In his arms, the child was dead.

The trio closed the concert with a powerful and stirring rendition of the aria “Cortigiani vil razza dannata” from Verdi’s “Rigoletto”. Carbó’s voice filled the church voluminously and presented the audience with a climactic finish that elicited rapturous applause from the near capacity audience.

Also on the program were the songs of Gluck, Debussy, Faure, de Falla, Hahn and Tosti. In all these cases, the arrangements are by the trio, reduced from orchestrations or piano accompaniments and translated into the most exquisite duo guitar settings, providing José Carbó with a sound wash almost as a cushion of clouds, over which his pure voice floats in heavenly motion.

The combination is unique and the quality is such that the three could be placed on a stage anywhere in the world and receive ovations of delight. In particular, there is scope for an entire Schubert lieder recital. A huge amount of work obviously for guitarists Blanch and Nurhadi, but one which would present the world with a new, refreshing and unique insight into some of the most stunning poetry, melodies and accompaniments in the history of literature and music.

Piano star Pogorelich: "I am not an alien"

At 22, Ivo Pogorelich entered the piano Olympus. But after the triumphs, the "Mick Jagger the pianist" experienced crashes. Now he presents a CD and gives concerts. And he regrets that no one cares about normalcy.

by Christian Berzins

21.09.2019, 11.00 Uhr

Can you define your attitude?

Yes. I am no more than a servant of the composer. I’m completely satisfied with that, because I get a lot of bonus from Beethoven or Chopin. Even if they do not live anymore, they send it to me. And I am able to reflect it.

I do not understand that.

On my new CD you will find the B-minor Sonata by Rachmaninov, I’ve been playing it for more than thirty years now. I had incredible success with it: cheers, standing ovations – everything. But personally, I was never happy with myself. There was something behind seven corners that I could not access. But I wanted to find him, complete the sonata for me! It took many years. But it was not like Beethoven, when I came to a solution. Or at least I answered to Beethoven the questions I had asked him. That’s the bonus I talked about, which I got from Beethoven. It is not something that falls from the sky. This makes my work easier and makes the composer more interesting. But I have to translate this bonus.

You do not get this information from the notes?

The score is dead and the instrument is a piece of furniture without the pianist. The text is part of a library – like papyrus. What should I do with it? I receive the information from myself. You have to interpret the text.

Well, but if the composer wrote “p” for quiet, an “ff” for very loud, or “very fast,” I should follow that prescription.

No, that’s information that I have to translate. You, Mr Berzins, can buy the sonata, the waiter there can buy it, I can buy it: but are we all capable of reading anything out of the notes? I think I am capable of finding something in it if it is Beethoven. For I am privileged to stand by its tradition: if you look back, I’m number 7 in the line to Beethoven – in the direct line! Number 5 even in the direct line of Franz Liszt! Pupils became teachers, had students – that’s all well documented, including the years. Like a certificate I carry this pedigree in front of me. Mine even goes back to Bach! At least I am number 12 in the line. But back to the questions of what role the artist plays! Why are we respected in some way?

… The composers “tell” you how to play or translate the works. Does that mean that the composer would be the best performer of his works?

Not at all! Composers should not be considered as examples of how their works must be played. There are two reasons for this: If you’re a chef in a restaurant and prepare a turbot, you’re not going to eat that fish in the evening, preferring a piece of bacon. They are fed up with this fish flavor. If you, as a composer, are in a creative process, then overwhelm yourself with emotions and thoughts. Anyone with a fixed idea takes over! And yet the question then arises as you move from one place to another, as you transfer the composition to the listeners.

It obviously needs someone like you who understands the composer.

Yes, and it takes surprise elements that a composer no longer has: but the surprises are the most important thing in the work of an interpreter. The composer allows much more in the text than to play the work in his own way. It’s me who translates everything. We musicians are respected because we invest our energy to interpret something. Maybe I play a little better than others? I do not know, but I do not overestimate my role. I am only the intermedium of Bach or Ravel.

Are there different performances for you? Or do you each strive for the same as possible?

None is repeatable! Give me the Elbphilharmonie for a month, I play the same program every night, and you will hear a different concert every night! I am not an alien, but a human! A flight and a concert are a physical act. Yesterday I had to play 50 minutes twice: 50 minutes alert, 50 minutes my body had to do something constantly.

Is the audience important to you?

I play for the listeners. I need them to listen.

Originally published in NZZas September 21, 2019

Violin Favourites - Musica da Camera

Violin Favourites

Musica da Camera

Holy Covenant Anglican Church, Cook, 

September 21,  2019

by Tony Magee

MAX BRUCH'S “Concerto No. 1, Op. 26 for Violin and Orchestra” presented a challenging opening for Musica da Camera and 16 year old violin soloist Sam Jenkin, one which they pulled of successfully.

Beginning with a tentative orchestral wash, almost as if someone is whispering a secret, Jenkin emerged with a violin cadenza opening of heartfelt passion. There was much to enjoy along the way, particularly strong support from the four cellos and single double bass in an extended orchestral interlude. 

Whilst there were various intonation problems here and there, the work came to a secure conclusion with Jenkin again stating the cadenza theme, this time with flourishes and embellishments of great feeling, with all the players coming together with a final chord beautifully in tune.

A Percy Grainger coupling followed. In “Irish Tune from County Derry”, the theme was stated with feeling and grace by the cello and viola sections and later taken over by first and second violins. In “Molly on the Shore”, which bears some similarity to Britten’s “Simple Symphony”, the ensemble displayed fine dynamics with effective pizzicato work from cellos and double bass.

“St Paul’s Suite” by Gustav Holst revealed enthusiastic and robust playing from the entire chamber orchestra, with good balance between the sections. Second violins played an effective ostinato during the second movement and in the third “Intermezzo” section, sweeping solo violin passages, played with confidence and style by leader Madeleine Retter, were infused with the entire first violin section most effectively and with precision.

Samuel Barber’s most famous piece, “Adagio for Strings” opened the second half of the concert. The ensemble managed to capture the increasing dynamics of the piece, beginning with a sad, quiet, but enveloping opening and increasing slowly to a climax of forte in the high registers of all the string instruments. Often used at US state funerals, the piece finishes on an optimistic major dominant chord of gentleness - something which Musica da Camera clearly felt and played with sensitivity.

To close, the engaging and hugely popular “Concerto for two violins in D minor” by Sebastian Bach. Sam Jenkin joined Madeleine Retter and the two soloists swept the piece along with the ensemble sometimes scrambling to catch up. A most engaging performance, where Retter and Jenkin played together with confidence, delivering a robust tone with intelligent phrasing and balance.

In this, as with all the pieces, one thing that needs to be addressed is the relationship between the players and their leaders, both within each section and the orchestra as a whole. This would fix the rhythmic and tempo inaccuracies which sometimes occurred. In addition, Retter needs to display a more commanding presence as leader, with body language, bow gestures and eyes.

This mixed aged group ensemble put their all into this concert and delighted the audience from start to finish. A creditable effort from an enthusiastic group who adore fine music.

First published in City News Digital Edition, September 22, 2019

Dame Edna tired and shagged out after a long career

My Gorgeous Life

Dame Edna Everage

Canberra Theatre

Opening night, September 17, 2019

by Tony Magee

IN a presentation filled with incoherent mumblings and ramblings, Dame Edna Everage slogged it out on the stage of the Canberra Theatre last night, subjecting her audience to two hours of boredom.

Clearly under-rehearsed, there were a few clever quips and moments of laughter, but on the whole it was a tiring and monotonous drag (no pun intended) from start to finish.

Aided or sometimes disabled by historic video footage, mostly with the voices completely out of sync with the mouths that were speaking on the screen, technical disasters and difficulties made it even more impossible to fathom the point of this sad venture.

The only saving grace was the presence of the Steinway D concert grand, which always makes a stage look graceful and beautiful and the excellent piano accompaniments and linking music from pianist and creative director Andrew Ross.

In fact, Ross was continually bailing her out when she failed to hear or comprehend comments which she herself invited from the audience. The poor old thing has gone deaf.

During the first act, the Dame looked like she could collapse at any moment, was breathing hard and had an obvious croak in her throat.

I think the whole room was willing her, desperately, to have a sip of water from the glass on the piano, but she didn’t, preferring instead to keep coughing and spluttering through most of the act.

Indigestion also made an appearance. One wondered whether she momentarily thought she was that old Cultural Attaché for the Arts, Sir Les Patterson.

The projected sets were excellent and of very high resolution, which made for some colourful and momentarily interesting side-tracks.

I was hoping for something new and exciting, fresh ideas, combined with the stinging, brutal wit and intelligence we all expect and deserve from the Dame. Instead the same old routines - Madge replaced by her long lost younger sister, couches for chats, the picking out of people in the front rows and the tired and hackneyed “where are you from darling?”.

Worse still were the embarrassing attempts to solicit an encore, the Dame being gently chaperoned off the stage by Andrew Ross, as she cupped her ear hoping for screams of “more”. One or two people did, as the stage went black and the house lights came up. The rest made a hasty departure for the exists.

Page seven in the program, contains a large photo of Edna, with the caption “Why am I doing this? I don’t need the money.” We are indeed wondering.

Perhaps this show is saveable, with a massive re-write, after this Canberra “try-out” season.

Musica Viva presents the Emerson String Quartet

Emerson String Quartet from the USA

Llewellyn Hall

September 16, 2019

Reviewed by Tony Magee

HAVING released no less than 35 albums on the Deutsche Grammophon label from 1990 to 2019, and winner of nine Grammy Awards, the Emerson String Quartet is one of the world’s most lauded and highly respected chamber music ensembles.

L-R: Paul Watkins, Lawrence Dutton, Philip Setzer, Eugene Drucker. Photo: Jürgen Frank

Beginning as a student group at the Juilliard School, and taking their name from the great American poet and philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson, they turned professional in 1976. 

Violinists and founding members Eugene Drucker and Philip Setzer both studied under the great Oscar Shumsky. Emerson is one of the few string quartets in the world, where first and second chairs alternate.

Mozart’s “String Quartet No. 21 in D Major, K575” with Setzer playing first violin opened the concert. Written for and dedicated to the King of Prussia in 1789, the piece showcases Mozart at the height of his powers.

The piece began with a gentle theme stated by the two violins, until it was taken over by Lawrence Dutton on viola and sweetened into a phrase of pure delight. The sound that Emerson created was one of refinement and charm.

The centrepiece of the concert was the “String Quartet No. 10 in E flat Major, Op. 51” by Dvořák, this time with Drucker in first chair. Composed and premiered in 1879, the quartet draws on classic slavonic themes, echoing the composer’s own “Slavonic Dances” and “Slavonic Rhapsodies”.

The delicate tonal changes in timbre and phrasing with the change of leader was a fascination in itself. It struck me during this work, how Emerson do not adhere to a fixed temperament, which is another of their unique hallmarks. You can hear chords being pulled into tune as they play through sweeping phrases. 

There were many glorious moments, none more-so than the exquisite melody exchanges between viola player Dutton and cellist Paul Watkins, who both played with glorious tonal projection and superb intonation.

Shostakovich’s “String Quartet No. 5 in B-flat Major, Op. 92” closed the concert, with Setzer returning as leader. Using the musical cryptogram DSCH, which is the composer’s initials in German, it was composed in 1952. Shostakovich waited until after Stalin had died, one year later, to premier it - a political move for his own safety, as he felt the piece would be interpreted by Stalin as a comment on ‘the dark and fearful aspects of reality’.

Emerson String Quartet lived and breathed every moment of the intensity, drama, struggle, torment and despair that this work evokes. Leading us straight down the garden path, Shoshakovich begins with a musically comic introduction - something which the quartet seemed to delight in presenting, before they descended into the devastating world of ‘reality’ posed by the composer.

Intense forte passages of incredible depth and fury, were contrasted by searing, delicate and suspenseful pianissimo work between first violin and viola, playing in unison two octaves apart. It was eerie, almost frightening.

And the audience was right there with them. You could have heard a pin drop. The captivating and almost shocking revelations that this work suggests were all too evident. People were moved, sometimes shaken.

First published in CityNews Digital Edition, September 17, 2019

Composer Larry returns to Russia, with love - Canberra CityNews

September 11, 2019

Canberra-based composer Larry Sitsky will be honoured with a long weekend this month of musical festivities by the Moscow Conservatory as an artist who, though not born in Russia has, through his heritage, contributed to the Russian musical tradition, reports arts editor HELEN MUSA.

Sitsky at home in his studio. Photo: Heide Smith

IT was a terrific turnout last week when the Canberra community packed into the Larry Sitsky Recital Room to mark the famous Canberra composer’s 85th birthday, but when it comes to musical celebrations, it’s the Russians who really know how to do it in style.

Sitsky will be honoured with a long weekend this month of musical festivities by the Moscow Conservatory as an artist who, though not born in Russia has, through his heritage, contributed to the Russian musical tradition.

“CityNews” caught up with Sitsky and his wife Magda last week at their home in Chifley as they were preparing to leave for Moscow with their daughter and Canberra pianist Edward (“Teddy”) Neeman, who will perform a sonata by Sitsky at the event.

It was supposed to be a surprise event, but Neeman knew all about it long before Sitsky did, having been tipped off by Anna Borisova, the Russian PhD student who is writing her thesis on Sitsky, that plans were afoot.

Sitsky tells us: “When I got an email with the invitation, I thought it was a hoax, so I answered in a silly way, but after a few more emails I realised it was real.

“When they said that they would shell out for transport there, I realised it was serious and our embassy in Moscow has been very supportive – I got in touch with them to make sure it wasn’t a scam.”

It wasn’t and both the Australian and Russian diplomats have since combined to make sure it runs smoothly.

The weekend of September 27-29 will feature musical performances on the Friday, Saturday and Sunday and a formal reception at our embassy on Monday, September 30.

Sitsky, who has lived in Canberra since the 1960s, has thoroughly involved himself in the community here and written his greatest works in the ACT, including his massive opera “The Golem” and even a musical score for Splinters Theatre of Spectacle’s fiery production of “Faust.”

He and Magda have raised a family here and he always comes across as more of an Aussie than anything else.

In fact his mother was from Irkutsk in Siberia and his father from Vladivostok. Both became part of the caravan of Russian-Jewish émigrés who went to China in the wake of the Russian Revolution and later emigrated to Australia.

Born and raised in the French Concession area of Tianjin but schooled in the English Concession, the young Sitsky was used to crossing borders daily, so when at age 15 he landed in Sydney, it was hard to believe that there were no such barriers here. “And no one gave a stuff,” he reports.

Sitsky took to Australia like a duck to water, edited a youth magazine, started studying engineering, switched to music, and ended up as an academic at the Queensland Conservatorium.

From there he was headhunted to help galvanise the ACT into musical activity. Once here, he found himself composing more than playing.

In the meantime, learning of his fluency in Russian, the Federal government sent him to Moscow as Australia’s first cultural ambassador to Russia during the Cold War, after a cultural relations agreement was signed in the early 1970s.

Russia was freezing. The pipes burst in a big music library and everything was different – there were flowers thrown on to the stage, the final rounds of a ballet competition were screened on national TV, and even the exiling of controversial composers showed that the authorities believed they had influence.

Heady stuff for a young artist, but the sceptical Sitsky came to realise that composing in a cultural vacuum here gave him a certain freedom.

“You’re not bound to anyone, no expectations are formed, it can be liberating,” he says, but academia is the only way a composer can survive in Australia.

As part of his Canberra birthday celebrations (the real birthday is on September 10) he played a couple of pieces, but as a self-described “composer-musicologist-pianist”, he has decided not to perform when he goes to Moscow, so has politely declined, telling his hosts: “You have so many pianists, you don’t need me.”

Besides, he has Neeman, who will perform one of his sonatas, “Retirer d’en bas de l’eau”, which Sitsky based on the voodoo ceremony of purification by water.

He and his family can just watch, listen and enjoy themselves.

Originally published in City News Digital Edition, September 11, 2019