BY KIYA VAN DER LINDEN-KIAN
Spaces of Life and Death
Eli Simic-Prosic (composer/curator), Elliott Gyger (conductor), Tamara Kohler (flutes), Kaylie Melville (percussion), Gemma Kneale (cello), Jacob Abela (piano)
Kenneth Myer Auditorium, Melbourne Conservatorium of Music, 21 September
For anyone who hasn’t been, the new Kenneth Myer Auditorium at the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music is truly striking. It’s a beautifully finished wooden concert hall with a wonderful live acoustic, and an almost comically large wooden circle (think one of those rotating platforms that well-off car owners use so they never have to back out of their driveway). This circle smoothly rolls to one side to reveal a giant circular window.
This is the venue that set the scene for the highly dramatic and unusual Spaces of Life and Death.
Composer-curator Eli Simic-Prosic stated in his program notes: “The central impulse behind Spaces of Life and Deathwas the desire to present a concert of works which actively engage with aspects of ritual and theatre, whose musical content lies not only in the relationship between sounds, but more broadly between sounds, actions, gestures and the very context of the performance itself”.
As lengthy as that quote is, it does best sum up the overall experience of the concert. The works presented were unique, stand-alone pieces in their own right – but the collection contained a central thematic concern in the physicality of a performance as well as the passive listening experience.
In almost every other aspect, there was a wide range of diversity in the works programmed. One of Eli’s own pieces opened the concert – The Intoxicating Recurrence of Being, a duet for flute and percussion. The piece was like a conversation in short, sharp jabs between the flautist and percussionist, who almost ‘danced off’ each other in a consistent battle of rhythm and staccato.
Next, we had Jani Christou’s work Anaparastasis III: The Pianist. Where to begin with this piece? Well, for one thing, this work by far had the largest instrumentation, with an entire chamber ensemble, vocalists, conductor, percussionists, and the pianist herself. This seemingly live re-enactment of the soundtrack from a horror film had us follow the pianist as she made her way through the space, sat down at the piano, broke down in tears, and then angrily slammed the keys in a manner that can only be described as someone who has recently undergone a possession by a very angry demon.
The work was intense and definitely had a shocking impact on the audience. However, a quick note on the use of acting and physicality in music: I’m all for cross-disciplinary works. I would even go so far as to say that they’re one of the new frontiers in music where some of the most interesting stuff is happening! However, if you are going to have a part of a concert with acting or visuals, then you need to consult with relevant experts in those fields. While the pianist did a good and believable job in capturing the audience’s attention in the work, there were moments in which I felt as if it dragged out a little too long, or the physical and gestural use of the space was not maximised to the same level as the music.
The next work was 101% mind uploading by Elena Rykova (pictured as our first photo). I loved this work. I think it could easily be programmed alongside a bit of Beethoven, and keep the audience’s rapt attention. Three musicians, all in medical theatre attire, operating on a prepared piano. What more do you need?
The final work of the concert, Scum’s Wish by Emile Frankel, held the biggest departure to the above works. The work is scored for video game, cello, and piano – and was certainly the most traditionally harmonic and lyrical piece of the program. It involved the musicians navigating a digital space in a video game, and entering different scenes which would then inspire different music from the performers.
We were taken on a journey to an oil rig in the middle of the ocean, arm-chairs watching a stunning view over mountains, and a thunderstorm hitting a bayside town as seen through a plane window. A truly unique experience, it evoked some of the grand score writing you encounter in video games. The music was brilliantly performed by pianist Jacob Abela, and cellist Gemma Kneale, who used a wide range of extended techniques on the cello to add little intricacies to the music.
Overall, this concert program contained such interesting and unique works that I’m cautious to call them ‘new music’ as that might dissuade people. Any concert-goer should be more than happy to see these works in regular Classical programming.
Images supplied.
