BY LAURA BIEMMI
ACO Underground
Australian Chamber Orchestra/Perth Festival
Astor Theatre, 23 February
What’d you miss?
- Technical mastery and a voice you could listen to forever
- An exercise in crossover style (for the performers)
- A “unique sonic journey” that didn’t quite reach its artistic goal
Arriving at the Astor Theatre to watch the Perth Festival present ACO Underground was a bizarre experience.
The line stretching outside the theatre was so long, I waltzed right past it, assuming I had passed the entry to a nightclub. But I doubled back when I saw people holding tickets identical to mine, and I joined the cue.
When I finally got to my seat in the second row, I was startled to see how far back I was. The first half of the theatre was an open space, dotted with tables for individual parties enjoying delivered drinks. The second half was crammed with rows of seats. I’d bet the audience members in the front section felt as though they were enjoying an exclusive experience not unlike a private club. But for me, in the front of the back, I felt as though I were viewing the stage across a moat, or a pit; something I’ve never experienced sitting in the back rows of a concert hall.
The distance and composition of the space was unsettling. It also hinted at a divide between the haves and the have-nots, more so than most of the concerts I’ve attended.
Before arriving, I’d read a tiny introduction on the Perth Festival website about what to expect: “ACO Underground is the Australian Chamber Orchestra’s electro-infused spin-off band and they’re here to break tradition and take you on a unique sonic journey,” the internet told me. This intrigued me: How did this concept come about? Why undertake such a project? What does this say about the future of our artform?
How did this concept come about? Why undertake such a project? What does this say about the future of our artform?
I hunted around for a program to get more information, but I was informed there were, in fact, no programs. I immediately panicked. How was I going to write my review? What pieces will be played? How will I credit those on stage? But still, my main concern was the concept behind the project. I didn’t know why the ACO had created ACO Underground. Lots of new ensembles attempt to “break tradition” and “take audiences on a unique sonic journey”. How is ACO Underground different?
The performance didn’t truly answer this question.
As enjoyable as some of it was, and as talented as the musicians onstage appeared to be, ACO Underground seemed an exercise in proving that these particular people can achieve a crossover style. And these particular people included violinist and singer Satu Vänskä, ACO Artistic Director Richard Tognetti, cellist Julian Thompson, Violent Femmes bassist and Mona Foma curator Brian Ritchie, and Midnight Oil guitarist Jim Moginie. (There was also a violist present who did not appear on the list of performers provided online; it’s always the violist, isn’t it?) Perhaps the ensemble itself was supposed to elicit shock – what a range of musicians! – but personally, I was interested in what music they had to offer.
The evening’s setlist included a variety of pieces, ranging from Bach to Nine Inch Nails, Schnittke, and Tognetti. The works were presented in brackets, where baroque would transition to rock almost seamlessly. They were broken up by Vänskä introducing pieces and musicians in a somewhat awkward stage manner. For some, this may have been endearing, and a way to close the gap between musician and audience. I found it distracting in what was already a disorientating experience. I understood that this was a way of distancing the night from ‘typical’ classical music concerts, and an attempt to enter the realms of popular music presentation; Vänskä engaging with the audience in the same way Adele likes to joke with the thousands of fans at her concerts. However, I don’t think the desired effortless, chilled vibe was achieved. In this way, the absence of program notes did make some sense: Did Adele ever provide program notes? I would be surprised. However, I think most fans would know what works would be performed at an Adele concert, or any popular artist, for that matter. The ACO’s “electro-infused spin-off band” was remarkably more enigmatic.
Musically, there were some wonderful moments. The true highlights were when Vänskä combined her soft, thoughtful vocals with the lush string texture; I could listen to her voice forever. The ensemble was also particularly skilled at creating eerie, atmospheric moments, such as in the works of Nine Inch Nails or the original pieces by Tognetti. The Schnittke String Quartet (the number mentioned by Vänskä, but not heard by me; program notes, where are you?!) was a brilliant display of technical mastery by all musicians.
It’s also worth mentioning that the lighting was consistently wonderful all night, with patterned and coloured effects complementing each piece perfectly. I would often look forward to whatever lighting display was coming up next. The music wasn’t perfect, however. Vänskä’s solo Bach, though executed with technical command, sometimes produced phrasing that bordered on repetitive and grating, and the balance between the electronics and the instruments in some pieces meant that the lower instruments, mainly the cello, were often drowned out. The variety of music provided was certainly exhilarating, especially when it was done well. It was like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded; you might not know where you’re at, or what’s happening, so you hang on tight and try to enjoy the ride.
It was like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded; you might not know where you’re at, or what’s happening, so you hang on tight and try to enjoy the ride
ACO Underground forced me to answer lots of questions about my own listening habits. As much as I would have liked to sit back and just experience the music without thinking about what it meant, I just couldn’t. For those who could silence their inner chattering and simply enjoy the talented musicians providing mostly excellent music to them, ACO Underground may have been an exciting display of boundary-pushing art. But I had to know why the ACO felt an electronic spin-off was necessary, and what they were trying to say about their art. Perhaps this is because I’m a musicology student who has been taught to uncover the messages within music. Indeed, perhaps the answer was somewhere in the music. Unfortunately, I received the impression that although it was of high quality, the music performed was a vehicle for the musicians onstage to demonstrate how easily they could perform both classical and popular repertoire, and whatever else lies between.
Is this an adequate reason to perform crossover music? Similar concerts I’ve attended and reviewed have done so in order to bridge a gap between styles of music, or to reconceptualise the work of one style into another. ACO Underground appeared to be lacking such an artistic goal. Whether such a goal or message is necessary for good art is entirely up to the listener.
Image supplied. Credit: Prudence Upton.
