BY JESSIE WANG, LEAD WRITER (COMMUNITY AND SOCIAL AWARENESS)
A Little Lunch Music
Joseph & James Tawadros: Music of the Oud
City Recital Hall, 18 February
Every time I hear the words “Live music is coming back” from an events website or a fellow commuter on the train, my eyes light up.
Sure, for the past two years we’ve adapted our music to the virtual world, but in my opinion, little beats live music. And I’m so glad I chose to spend an hour out of my lunchtime to attend a live concert called A Little Lunch Music: Joseph & James Tawadros – Music of the Oud.
Outside the City Recital Hall, people wore business shirts and long pants and blouses and slacks, suggesting workers were once again returning to work at their offices in the CBD. But I was shocked when I entered the hall and looked around to see a typical crowd of grey-haired concertgoers: perhaps those workers returning to the CBD were simply unaware of the event, or perhaps they weren’t interested in hearing the oud — but with a concert featuring Egyptian music, how could either be true?
As I sat there pondering this issue, I also wondered: What did I know about the oud? And to be honest, I didn’t know very much more than some of those business people. I knew it was a lute-like instrument played from the SWANA (South-west Asia and Northern Africa) region. I knew it was often accompanied by the frame drum (which I later learned was called a riqq). I knew they used modal scales, and there would probably be improvised sections in the music. But I didn’t know what to expect in a live performance from the Tawadros brothers, who had won ARIAs and had played with the BBC Symphony and most major orchestras in Australia, and had toured all over the world. To add to their already massive list of achievements, Joseph also holds an Order of Australia and plays 52 instruments, while his brother James plays 11 instruments.
As soon as brothers Joseph and James Tawadros stepped onto the stage, we knew we were in for a treat. Joseph was dressed in a red hat with a matching red scarf, while James was in a fez. Both of their outfits were colourful, as if they were inviting us to have a casual jam at their house.
The first piece Dream and Hermit sounded fast and improvisatory, at least for the oud Joseph played. This particular piece sounded like an oud solo with accompanying riqq (a hand-held frame drum with cymbals used throughout the Arabic-speaking world), or specifically, the cymbals of the riqq.
Another piece played later in the concert, Permission to Evaporate, had a strong bassline provided by the riqq, which was successfully achieved by the precise striking of the frame rather than the cymbals, imitating a drum. Added to this were broken chords quickly strummed on the oud, and at times I didn’t expect. The combined effect painted a clear image in my head: people dancing around the dining table at home and tapping on the tables. It was obvious why this was one of their most popular pieces. (Fun fact: they’ve played this with the BBC Symphony, and on YouTube there’s a video of them playing this with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra). It was playful. It was fun. It made you want to get up and dance.
Of course, the concert didn’t just have fast pieces that made you want to move about. The Tawadros brothers programmed the concert so that just when you thought you knew what kind of piece was coming next, they would surprise you. The slow movement from their oud concerto was one of those. (They’ve played it with Melbourne, Adelaide, and Sydney symphony orchestras). This piece used Arabic scales (called maqam), and the overall effect was the creation of beautiful melodies that resonated in the hall.
As if there wasn’t enough talent and variety by this point in the concert, the Tawadros brothers also played a jazz-inspired piece. Called Gardenlesque, it was named after a train station in Paris; the fast finger movements were reminiscent of a running train. That – along with accents in unison on the oud and the riqq, plus an abrupt end to the piece – painted a vivid image in my mind and sent me away to Paris.
Joseph also entertained the audience throughout the concert by making jokes about their lives. Some of the jokes were light-hearted, like various anecdotes of people suggesting that they needed a ‘real’ job during the pandemic. On the other hand, some would make us laugh but also asked some deeper questions about society, culture, and politics. Nonetheless, whenever there wasn’t music, the sound of people’s laughter would echo through the concert hall – sounds which I haven’t heard in such a long time.
In the (very short) one-hour concert, Joseph and James delivered all of the above, and so much more. If only I had space to describe in detail every piece they played. I guess you’ll just have to attend a concert yourself!
Walking out of the concert hall, I felt satisfied in a way I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Live music is coming back, and I’m here for it – especially if the musicians were as talented as the Tawadros brothers, and the audience was as supportive and lively as the one from A Little Lunch Music.
Images supplied.
