Saturday, March 23, 2024

Paulina Lenoir: Puella Eterna


 

Paulina Lenoir: Puella Eterna

The Yurt at the Courtyard of Curiosities at the Migration Museum, Tue 12 Mar

Paulina Lenoir was busy preening herself in front of a mirror as the audience filed in. We were able to take in her extensive wardrobe and props collection draped around the stage and allow the music to get us in the mood for Puella Eterna – the Eternal Girl. All of this was brought to an abrupt halt by a welcome to country. It was an intrusion into an artistic process, the building of relationship between audience and performer, that was already underway.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem to bother Lenoir. She moved seemlessly into her strangely bewitching style and announces that she has big plans for the universe tonight! An endless striptease has the audience laughing along. Then, in a madcap slightly deranged way we travel her whole life with her.

She introduces her baby-self as a puppet – “I did not choose to be born” and requires audience assistance to communicate and eat in some classic slapstick. She progresses to the toddler stage and manages to move around and talk with more of the audience on her knees in quite endearing fashion. She soon grows up – quite literally!! But it’s a rapid ride and menopause is soon upon her and is the occasion of some of the strangest dance moves you’ll ever see!

She has many ploys for engaging the audience in her brief life – many in the audience get real roses – and she regularly checks in with her timekeeper to make sure she has enough time to get to the end of her life and die before the show’s over!! But it doesn’t quite end there ….

Lenoir’s clown is disarmingly ingenuous, and likes to appear as if she’s a bit of a duffer but one has this sneaking feeling that behind that innocent smile she is having the last laugh. But you’re not sure why. Or even if it’s true!

But therein lies the joy and mystery of it all. On the outside you’ll be smiling and laughing throughout; on the inside you may be asking questions that have no answers!

This review also posted on The Clothesline.

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Irish Concert Songs Of Luke Kelly And The Dubliners With Dave Clark: A Lovely Way To Spend An Afternoon


 

Singing Gazebo Clarendon, Sun 23 Feb, 2020

One of the nicest places to play and listen to live music in South Australia in recent years was The Singing Gallery in McLaren Vale. It was an enchanting place to be for both musicians and audiences. The people behind this delightful place, Dave Clark and Kate Townsend, have moved on and created a scaled down version at The Singing Gazebo in Clarendon, and it has a similar welcoming charm.

Irish Concert Songs Of Luke Kelly And The Dubliners is a cross between a Celtic session at the local pub and a concert. Dave Clarke led us through songs that mostly everyone knew and we heartily sang along to the choruses of well-worn classics like The Wild RoverDirty Old TownWhisky In The Jar, and Black Velvet Band. And likewise on a couple of Dave Clark originals – he was clearly playing among friends! He was accompanied by Kate on ukulele, piano, accordion and concertina, and Dave himself switched between guitar, bodhran, and banjo.

Special guest Jack Brennan provided delicious instrumental textures with Irish flute and the evocative Uilleann pipes, and added a couple of endearing stories to the afternoon’s narrative. Acoustic bass and fiddle completed the musical line-up.

Kate’s version of A Song For Ireland was a special moment – beautifully sung.

This was a remarkable event on several levels – it’s remarkable that there are so many people, Irish or not, dedicated to the singing and preserving of these folk classics; remarkable that Dave and Kate have managed to recreate another live music venue with the same spirit and warmth as The Singing Gallery; remarkable that they served every member of the 50 strong audience a free piece of cake (with cream)! Remarkable, too, that there is an implicit understanding between players and audience that such events are group efforts. This was not a performance as much as a celebration of community and the radiant joy of sharing songs in good company.

This is a lovely way to spend an afternoon.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Wednesday, March 20, 2024

A Centennial Story of the Chinese Fiddle

 


Pilgrim Uniting Church, Sun 3 Mar.

That different cultures across the world have found their own solutions to life’s matters is a fascinating aspect of humanity. Cultures develop distinct ways of dressing, different foods, types of housing, and music. The sitar is the unmistakable sound of India; the Middle East gave us the oud. When you hear that haunting melancholy tone of the erhu you recognise it immediately as Chinese. The erhu is a two-stringed bowed instrument that has a small sound box at its base that is covered with python skin. And according to Wikipedia “its characteristic sound is produced through the vibration of the python skin by bowing.”

Silk Strings are an Adelaide based group of Chinese musicians whose mission is in part to make the music known as huquin more accessible.  The erhu, or Chinese fiddle – its central instrument – has been around for centuries. A Centennial Story of the Chinese Fiddle is designed to showcase the music of the erhu from the last one hundred years.

The program delivered nine pieces in chronological order as either solo pieces, or duets with erhu and piano in the beautiful Pilgrim Uniting Church. There’s something delicious about hearing traditional Chinese music in a Christian church. The atmosphere and acoustics are perfect for this kind of performance.

The earliest piece was from 1928, and like so much of Chinese nomenclature, it has one of those poetic titles intended to impart a lesson before a note is played – Birds Singing in a Desolate Mountain. A gorgeous folk song from China’s north-east was entitled The Crescent Moon at Three in the MorningGalloping Battle Steeds sounded as it suggests. The sounds of galloping horses is a recurring motif in music from northern China and Mongolia, and is mimicked by interesting bowing techniques.

The final three pieces were more recent arrangements for erhu and piano involving some quite intense collaboration. One was an interpretation of a gypsy tune by a Spanish composer. The final two pieces in a more modern vein had the erhu sounding more like a violin, and therefore less Chinese.

It’s understandable that musicians would want to stretch themselves and branch out into fusion or more modern forms of their genre, but it may be at the cost of losing that distinctive sound that made older forms of the genre instantly recognisable, and perhaps revered.

Beautiful music exquisitely played in a near perfect setting.


This review also published on The Clothesline.


Sunday, March 17, 2024

Sounds of the Hazara - Adelaide Fringe Music Review




[MUSIC/World Music SA ~ ADELAIDE FRINGE PREMIERE]

Nexus Arts Venue, Sat 25 Feb, 2024.

The Hazara are one of the many ethnic groups that make up the population of Afghanistan. They in particular have been subject to harassment and violence since the return to power of the Taliban. There are approximately 40000 Hazara now living in Australia.

As Keith Preston told us in his introduction the Adelaide Fringe is slowly but surely becoming more representative of the diverse cultural make-up of our society – due in part it must be said, to the tireless efforts of people like Keith who strive to make it happen.

And so we gather at Nexus Arts to enjoy Hazara folks songs led by the humble, gracious Feroz Ansari on vocals and harmonium. Ansari is supported by fellow countryman Mehran Yawary on keyboards and electronic percussion,  well-known Adelaide musician Quentin Ayers on dobro and guitar, and Preston on santoor and bouzouki. It was a line-up that worked really well in the end. There were some issues with instrument balance earlier in the show where the harmonium and vocals were being dominated by the keyboard and percussion. The program does refer to ‘fusion styles’ – and it’s always a challenge to get the blend of traditional and modern instruments in the right balance. Once this was sorted the music quite rocked!

Most songs followed a similar pattern with a quieter vocal intro with harmonium, with other instruments joining in once the song was established. Some of the programmed percussion arrangements were wonderful – complex and catchy. Ansari’s vocals were right on the money – melodic and plaintive with that lovely central Asian/Middle Eastern style of vocal where the singer slides into and across notes that the Western pentatonic scale doesn’t feature. There were some lovely instrumental moments from Preston on santoor, and Ayers on guitars.

Ansari mentioned that the poetry of the original songs was very difficult to translate into English but it seemed that one way or another all the songs were about love.

It is sadly ironic that Australian audiences are now fortunate to have ethnic musicians of this calibre living amongst us who can participate in such events and enrich our cultural life. A really enjoyable performance of music from another world.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Silly Little Things - Theatre Review




Star Theatre Two at Star Theatres, Fri 23 Feb, 2024.

Laura Knaggs has written a delightful story, and tells it beautifully. She plays the part of Rosie, a young woman who is finally free of an oppressive long term relationship and desperate to celebrate her freedom;  start a new more exciting life. But it turns out she’s not that good at making decisions on her own. Her best friend is dealing with her own problems, her nosy neighbour keeps making life difficult, good men are hard to find, and her flower shop is going under. And the last thing she wants to do is give in and go back to her mother for help. Perhaps a few more shots of tequila will fix things? They don’t.

Rosie takes us all along this frustrating, entertaining ride with mostly good humour, sporadic misplaced optimism, and an honest vulnerability. She’s pretty hyper early on and it’s as if her speedy enthusiasm is plunging her into train wreck territory. But luckily for Rosie a near disaster opens her eyes just enough to help her see the good that’s right in front of her.

She still has that lovely bouncy personality but it’s not so manic now. She’s calmed down and has become a much nicer, smarter person.

So there is a moral to the story if you’re looking for one. Or you could just sit back and enjoy Knagg’s charming manner, the tightly scripted narrative, her impressive range of acting skills, and great sense of comedy. She’s a natural, and is clearly very much at home on the stage.

One small peeve – I think the title of this show belittles it. There’s a lot more going on here than Silly Little Things, but I guess that’s how Rosie may have seen things at the time.


This review also published on The Clothesline.

Monday, February 26, 2024

K Mak At The Planetarium: Adelaide Fringe 2024 Review


The Planetarium, Sat 17 Feb, 2024

K Mak’s website says they are the brainchild of cellist Kathryn McKee, and describes their music as ‘a distillation of classical, alternative and electro-pop music.’ That’s handy because I was struggling to identify their genre. Not that you always have to pigeon-hole the music we listen to. Things don’t always fit into convenient categories and K Mak at the Planetarium is a case in point.

It’s initially a little confusing trying to decide whether to focus on the music or the projected visuals until one eventually accepts that it’s meant to be an integrated experience. And it works really well.

Just relax back into the chairs of the planetarium and let the whole experience wash over you; let the sights and sounds take your mind and soul wherever they want to go. And my mind certainly wandered far and wide across the universe, and then deep down into microcosms of throbbing liquids and bubbling gases. Watch a parade of planets, rockets launching, asteroids, deep space, star signs, the blazing sun. Kaleidoscopic patterns, magical plants, sea creatures – it’s essentially a celebration of the natural world, with a dose of psychedelia.

K Mak’s music was always interesting and perfectly complementary – a neat combination of persistent rhythms with ethereal melodies carried by keyboard, cello and violin. The sound was not always totally in synch with the visuals but that didn’t seem to matter. It was very much a case of you connecting the music and the visuals in any way you wanted. There was nothing prescriptive about this event. No program as such, though there was an occasional comment introducing the next piece. But you make the connections; you join the dots.

Be immersed in childlike wonder. You might however find your adult self contemplating how insignificant we all are in the presence of the power and beauty of the universe. And that’s not a bad thing is it? Certainly puts things in another perspective!


This review also posted on The Clothesline.

Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Goodbye Bill

 

When David Lindley died Jackson Browne said he hesitated to put his feelings about David down on paper because that would mean having to acknowledge that David had really gone. I’m feeling a bit like that now about my dear friend Bill. Bill Docherty died on December 12th.

When I first met Bill he was a friend of my brother’s. They were both studying to be priests at a monastery in Melbourne. Bill and my brother Damien left religious life before becoming priests, and both embarked on a lifestyle that involved catching up on lost time. My first strong post-monastery memories of Bill were visiting a house he shared with other students and consuming huge amounts of marijuana, listening to a lot of Frank Zappa, and engaging in challenging and stimulating intellectual debates about life. As a much younger man the nature of these highly articulate conversations greatly impressed me.

As fate would have it Bill and I would both end up spending a lot of time in Israel. Bill eventually married a Jewish woman and lived there for many years but we first met in Israel in 1981 when he was living on a kibbutz outside of Jerusalem.  Our second meeting was in Ashqelon when we both parents with young children. Our third and fourth meetings were in Jerusalem. I was in Israel attending conferences and Bill was working as a lawyer for an organisation that represented Palestinians in court in their battles with the Israeli state.

And therein lies a tale of who Bill was, and the schizophrenic nature of life in Israel for anyone who cares about the parties on both sides of the conflict. During this time Bill lived in Jerusalem and travelled across to the West Bank each day to work for Palestinians. Each day after work he returned to his Israeli friends on the other side of the conflict.

Despite the fact that it had progressively become more and more of a rogue state that saw itself above the law we both loved Israel. It was this shared joy of the land, its people and the profound experiences it afforded us that saw us grow closer as the years rolled by. When Bill returned to Australia we shared fond memories and a mutual understanding of the complexities of Israel. It left indelible marks on both of us. And both of us had little or no contact with anyone else who had spent much time in Israel.  Israel was our shared story that we both cherished, and that few others understood.

I may write more about Bill’s life down the track a bit. This text is just a brief glimpse of a remarkable story about a remarkable man. Bill was one of those larger than life characters who always seemed to be living life in some kind of action movie where the unlikely becomes more likely, and the impossible becomes possible.  He was indeed a lovable larrikin, but as erudite and articulate a person as you’ll ever meet. He was also a ratbag that you tolerated because of the love that lived within his generous soul.

Bill was a storyteller. The last time I saw him I told him how much I enjoyed his stories over the years, but that I was never sure what was fact and what was embellishment. His reply? “It was all embellishment!” No it wasn’t Bill – we both know that – but you made me laugh one last time.

I loved you mate. And I know you loved me.  Watching your coffin disappear at your funeral was like having parts of me stripped away. And I realised then and there that I had begun the gradual journey to my own end. Offering me one last lesson Bill. Teaching me right to the very end.

Rest in peace chaver yakar sheli (my dear friend).

 

Tuesday, December 05, 2023

1988 - OzAsia Music Review


 

Space Theatre, Tue 24 Oct

1988 was a big year for Australia. White Australia celebrated its bicentenary. It was also a big year for Dung Nguyen. He emigrated from Vietnam to join his father in Australia.

1988 is an inspiring cultural event. It attempts to portray the Vietnamese experience of migration and resettlement in a strange and foreign land through music, sound, and projected imagery. It is a beautifully intense creation.

It begins with Nguyen sitting on the floor playing a Vietnamese zither (dan tranh), that Asian stringed instrument whose evocative sounds are synonymous with traditional music from East Asia. Slowly the zither invites other sounds to enter: a sparse piano, an aching trumpet, deeply resonant double bass, vibraphone, and various other forms of percussion – most notably a gorgeous bamboo xylophone (dan trung). All the while the projected blurred images are becoming clearer as Nguyen gets closer to Australia.

Nine different musical pieces take us on an ongoing journey through arrival in the new land, sharing feelings of excitement and expectation, disruption and uncertainty, and finally back full circle to a point that feels like resolution; the acceptance of life as a migrant – forever a stranger but who nevertheless finds a way to retain their Vietnamese soul.

This is all done with exquisite collaboration between musicians seeking their space to contribute to the mood of each piece. A range of electronic gadgetry complemented traditional instruments and neatly symbolised the integration of old and new experiences that migration entails.

This was an enchanting performance – deeply moving, ethereal, exotic, a wonderful blend of sounds that may or may not become music, but all of which express feeling.

It concludes with Nguyen back on the floor, plucking his zither, gently humming to himself………

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Paulina Lenoir: Puella Eterna

  Paulina Lenoir: Puella Eterna The Yurt at the Courtyard of Curiosities at the Migration Museum, Tue 12 Mar Paulina Lenoir was busy preenin...