Musica Viva. Adelaide Town Hall. 14 Jul 2026
Just before the commencement of the concert, a concertgoer sitting behind me whispered to her friend, “I think Musica Viva might be in trouble in Adelaide.” She was referring to the rather modest-sized audience: large areas of the vast Adelaide Town Hall auditorium were unfilled. Her comment echoed my own musings, and one’s mind naturally turns to possible explanations. Much has been written about today’s ticket-purchasing habits, and two things are apparent: people are increasingly leaving purchases until the last minute (and can therefore be influenced by such things as the vagaries of the weather–and it was bitterly cold in Adelaide last night!), while the cost-of-living crisis continues to place discretionary spending, such as entertainment, under pressure. But in the case of art music concerts, other factors also come into play, including programming and performers, and both are central to this recital.
In Musica Viva's current Australian tour, The Fairy’s Kiss, featuring Leila Josefowicz on violin and John Novacek on piano, the musicianship on display is simply world-class. Josefowicz and Novacek demonstrate the expressive possibilities inherent in the violin-piano partnership, treating both instruments as equal voices. Their performance also revealed the inestimable value of two musicians who have worked together over many years.
The program, however, was ambitious and, for that very reason, not universally appealing. It comprised Sonata for Violin and Piano in G minor, L.140 by Claude Debussy, Mythes, Op. 30 by Karol Szymanowski, Mriya by Charlotte Bray, and Divertimento from Le Baiser de la fée (The Fairy's Kiss) by Igor Stravinsky. All four works are superb and redolent with possibility and interest. Collectively, though, the program asked more of its audience than it gave in immediate gratification. While each work was intriguing in its own right, their aggregate never quite ignited the audience’s passions. Even so, the audience left wanting more, although that may have owed something to the delightful encore: a rag for violin and piano composed by Novacek himself.
None of the four works function as a conventional violin sonata with piano accompaniment, not even the Debussy which is named a sonata. Each demands two equal virtuosi, highlighting the sonorities and technical possibilities of both instruments. Although Josefowicz occupied the traditional downstage position and played with expressive physicality, Novacek was every bit her equal. Her fearless virtuosity and command of advanced violin technique were matched by his rhythmic vitality and remarkable ability to respond instantly to her exquisitely balanced phrasing.
Although all four works challenged the conventions of violin-piano writing in their own time, placing the Stravinsky last was a wise programming decision. It is the most immediately engaging work, and Josefowicz appeared more at home with its rhythmic brilliance and energetic dialogue than with the fleeting musical ideas and harmonic ambiguity of the Debussy that opened the concert. Even so, both artists beautifully captured the piece’s playfulness and its occasional nod to the American idiom.
With her rapid double-stopping and authority in executing quarter-tones, Josefowicz was quite remarkable in the Szymanowski. Novacek proved the ideal partner, his controlled dynamics, lightness of touch, and effortless changes of rhythm and tempo beautifully capturing the work's shimmering, impressionistic sound world.
Bray's Mriya (Dream) is a musical response to Ukraine's soul and courage as its people defend themselves in Putin's war. Knowing this inevitably shapes one's listening. The work is more abstractly dramatic than lyrical, and at times the two instruments sound like combatants, with no real resolution. There are moments of silence, as though the guns have briefly ceased firing. At other times the piano and violin are concordant, perhaps hinting at the long-desired, yet still unattained, peace.
Having the Stravinsky follow such a troubling work comes as a welcome relief. It is theatre, giving the audience licence to enjoy itself—especially in the closing coda, which is toe-tappingly brilliant, technically demanding and exhilarating to watch. It is almost as if one is watching and listening to a ballet, only without the dancers!
The Fairy's Kiss is not an easy program to experience, and in lesser hands than those of Leila Josefowicz and John Novacek it could easily have become an excessively intellectual exercise. Instead, their artistry transformed it into an evening that was rewarding.
The lasting impression of this concert is that its four composers each explore different conceptions of the expressive possibilities of the violin-piano duo, all spectacularly realised by a partnership of rare refinement and musicality. Leila Josefowicz and John Novacek together are really something else. Partnerships of this calibre don't come along every day.
Kym Clayton
When: 14 Jul
Where: Adelaide Town Hall
Bookings: Closed
Hilary Kleinig, Illuminate Adelaide and Vitalstatistix. Vitalstatistix, Waterside Workers Hall. 9 July 2026
The smartphone has come to dominate our lives, even to rule us. We use it for communication, and it connects us to social media which structure our relationships. We use its camera to record and upload our lives. It’s an information source; we use it transact business and so on. It is also a surveillance device.
Composer Hilary Kleinig has been concerned at the way in which the smartphone has permeated our lives and changed our listening habits and apprehension of music and sound. She says:
“Initially inspired by Anna Goldsworthy’s article of the same name, The Lost Art of Listening began by undertaking research into the history of music and sound in society, its role and reason for being, where music has power and meaning and why this is. Further research has been undertaken into the connection between deep listening to nature, wellbeing and its role in climate action.”
Kleinig’s highly innovative and insightful project, The Lost Art of Listening, has resulted in a musical performance that interrupts and interrogates the normal use of the smartphone. The Lost Art of Listening concert involves a piano performance by renowned composer and pianist Erik Griswold, which is accompanied by pre-recorded sounds broadcast over the audience’s phones.
Prior to the concert, audience members are instructed to download onto their phones the Listen app produced for the project by Steve Berrick. They are each given a large, numbered paper cup, and proceed into the auditorium to sit at a seat corresponding to the cup’s number. Their phone is then placed in the cup, which amplifies the sound, and is tuned to the cup’s number so that it plays a sound recording corresponding to that number — up to 32 different recordings are broadcast in sequence or simultaneously.
The audience sits in concentric circles around the piano, so that sound emanates from around the space. Griswold then begins his piano performance and the broadcast begins.
It is at this point that audience members lose control of their phones — the app takes over and relays not only sound but a range of colours that appear on the phones’ screens and form part of Geoff Cobham’s complex and evocative lighting design that illuminates the otherwise darkened space.
The prerecorded sounds range from industrial noise to children playing, electronic music and field recordings of birdsong, so that the phones convey the typical sounds of the modern world to stimulate the audience’s imagination and reflection on the nature of our environment, our place in it and our responsibility for it.
Griswold plays a prepared piano, which has rubber strips and other objects inserted between the strings, and he also uses mallets to play the strings, bounces rubber balls on them and pulls lengths of fishing line through them to generate a range of intriguing sounds. Sheets of paper lying on the strings vibrate slightly and are then screwed up and dropped to the floor, creating almost inaudible sounds. Griswold’s performance is hypnotic, as he hovers over the piano, part conductor and part sonic magician.
All the sounds produced by the piano and the phones combine to create an extremely rich and complex sonic tapestry. The performance encourages what legendary American composer Pauline Oliveros called ‘deep listening’, whereby the listener enters a heightened state of awareness of sound. It is this state of attentiveness, to sound and to the world around us, that we are prompted to try to regain, not only during the performance but in our lives generally.
The lighting design is subtle but complements the sound. A small mirror ball placed inside the piano reflects light from a spotlight hanging above the piano to create star patterns on the ceiling, and reflective panels on the floor around the piano also reflect light. Colours gradually change. Participation in the performance greatly stimulates sensory awareness in various ways.
The overall experience is very powerful, not only as an immersive, multifaceted artwork, but also as a comment on the way in which we use and appreciate music and on the nature of our sonic world. We are challenged to consider our relationship with our phones and with those who control our media, and we become more aware of the sounds of nature that we so often ignore.
The active engagement of the audience in this manner is an essential component of the work—broadcasting the recorded sound on a public address instead of the audience’s phones would have created a less challenging experience.
Hilary Kleinig’s The Lost Art of Listening is a significant project, and the excellent concert performance should be repeated for wide audiences. It should also stimulate further development and consideration of the issues it raises.
Chris Reid
When: 9 to 11 Jul
Where: Vitalstatistix, Waterside Workers Hall
Bookings: Closed
More info: hilarykleinig.com/the-lost-art-of-listening
Adelaide Symphony Orchestra. Adelaide Town Hall. 4 Jul 2026
The title of this magnificent ASO concert, Swansong, refers to the first work on the program, Jean Sibelius’s The Swan of Tuonela, the second movement of his Lemminkäinen Suite, Op.22. The concert concluded with Tchaikovsky’s Pathétique symphony, his No.6 in B minor, Op.74, whose final movement, the Finale (Adagio lamentoso – Andante) established an appropriately sombre bookend to the concert.
Sibelius’s Lemminkäinen Suite is based on the story of Lemminkäinen, a heroic character in the Kalevala, the compilation of epic Finnish and Karelian poetry that became a symbol of Finnish identity and nationalism in the late nineteenth century, when Finland was under oppressive Russian rule. The swan guides the souls of the dead along a river to the shore of Tuonela, the realm of the dead in Finnish mythology, and the mood of the music suggests the peacefulness of death.
Tchaikovsky composed his Pathétique in 1893 and conducted the first performance in that year. He died nine days later, and while his death was attributed to cholera, there were suggestions he committed suicide. The profoundly sad final movement of his Pathétique could be interpreted as a reflection of his state of mind, or as a farewell, given that it follows the exuberantly triumphant third movement of the symphony, which might be seen as a celebration of his life.
Sibelius initially composed the Lemminkäinen Suite around 1893 – 1895 (he subsequently revised it), contemporaneously with Tchaikovsky’s composition of the Pathétique. Sibelius’s music asserts Finnish identity, while Tchaikovsky asserts himself, his successes and his personal tragedy, both composers challenging aspects of Russian culture in their individual ways.
Sibelius’s slow, gentle The Swan of Tuonela is a most exquisite tone poem, and it’s a showcase for the cor anglais, or English horn, the most substantial work for that instrument in the repertoire. The cor anglais represents the singing voice of the swan as it swims along the river, and ASO principal Peter Duggan gave a most sublime performance of this hypnotic work.
The second piece on the program was Mozart’s Concerto for Flute and Harp in C, K. 299, a work commissioned by the amateur flautist the Comte de Guines for himself and his harpist daughter. Criticised for being a lightweight work, this unusual pairing of solo instruments, combined with a salon orchestra of around thirty players, is a sparkling delight. ASO principal flautist Kim Falconer and principal harpist Jessica Fotinos dressed for the occasion in glorious outfits that literally sparkled, creating the kind of fairytale atmosphere that might have enchanted the Comte’s family and associates.
Mozart reputedly hated writing for the flute, but it’s a fine piece that creates a delightful interplay between the soloists and the orchestra. Under guest conductor Andrey Boreyko, the ASO’s performance was beautifully paced and balanced across the instruments, and Falconer and Fotinos were superb, clearly enjoying themselves immensely. The two soloists then gave an encore to demonstrate again their close rapport and exceptional msicianship.
The final work was Tchaikovsky’s magisterial Pathétique, one of the greatest and most profound symphonies in the repertoire, starkly contrasting the joyous Mozart concerto that preceded it—Tchaikovsky takes the listener on a journey through a range of emotional states, perhaps betraying his own inner turmoil. Boreyko’s interpretation was insightful and his leadership was clear and convincing.
As well as featuring the excellent Peter Duggan, Kim Falconer and Jessica Fotinos, this concert also demonstrated the abilities of other ASO principals, especially bassoonist Mark Gaydon and timpanist Andrew Penrose in the Tchaikovsky. The bassoon features at significant moments in the Pathétique and while it does not parallel the cor anglais in Sibelius’s Swan, it does at times suggest the voice of the composer. Tchaikovsky’s use of percussion is also crucial in the unfolding drama.
The performance of the Swan is a taste of what’s to come, as the ASO will perform all seven of Sibelius’s symphonies over three concerts in September. It’s to be hoped that the ASO will perform the entire Lemminkäinen Suite one day.
Chris Reid
When: 4 July
Where: Adelaide Town Hall
Bookings: Closed
Musica Viva. Adelaide Town Hall. 25 Jun 2026
The Doric String Quartet’s Adelaide concert for Musica Viva has been eagerly anticipated given the rave reviews they have received so far on their Australian tour, and this concert was of special interest as the quartet is touring with hometown favourite, clarinettist Lloyd Van’t Hoff.
Their choices for the program—Benjamin Britten’s Three Divertimenti for String Quartet, Thomas Adès’s Alchymia and Beethoven’s first Razumovsky Quartet—explore the endless possibilities of the quartet form, augmented in the case of Alchymia by the inclusion of the basset clarinet.
The concert opened with Britten’s Three Divertimenti of 1936, an early work, not published until after his death, in which he was exploring the quartet form and developing his own musical language. The first of the three elements, March, does not start with an obvious march-like rhythm but later settles into a jaunty stride. It’s a light-hearted and rather witty piece that challenges the formality of the traditional march.
The second, Waltz, is another experiment, this time with the waltz rhythm, in which pizzicato in the cello set the pace. There are moments of lilting sweetness alternating with sudden changes in dynamics. The final piece, the energetic and more intense Burlesque, is characterised by rapid flurries of notes, varied use of pizzicato and some discordant passages.
What became clear from the Doric’s playing was not only their outstanding technical prowess but their ability to turn Britten’s enigmatic, exploratory score into a fully resolved whole.
For the performance of celebrated British composer Thomas Adès’s Alchymia (2021), the quartet was joined by the Elder Conservatorium’s head of woodwind, clarinettist Lloyd Van’t Hoff, on basset clarinet. This instrument is longer than the commonly used B flat clarinet, with additional keys to produce lower notes and a mellower tone.
Adès’s magical work is in four movements, and as the title Alchymia suggests, each movement represents a transmutation of musical ideas which mostly emanate from Elizabethan London.
The first movement, A Sea-Change (…Those Are Pearls…), refers to Ariel’s song in Shakespeare’s The Tempest. It opens with a slow, high-pitched clarinet tune which is repeated over a quiet, motoric pizzicato that sounds like a ticking clock, before becoming unsettled and agitated, returning to the opening theme and finishing softly.
The second movement, The Woods So Wild, draws on William Byrd’s keyboard transcription of a popular Tudor song. Rather than simply transcribing Byrd’s music, Adès’s version captures the golden sounds of the woods, with the twinkling strings and the virtuosic clarinet suggesting the tuneful chirping and warbling of birds of all kinds.
The third movement, Lachrymae, refers to a poem by the seminal composer for the lute, John Dowland. The music is quiet and bittersweet, and the strings intertwine with a slowly developing clarinet melody. A crescendo emerges and then the music returns to its quiet and intensely beautiful solemnity.
The final movement, Divisions on a Lute-song: Wedekind’s Round, is a transmutation of German playwright and satirical song-writer Frank Wedekind’s (1864-1916) Lute Song in which the clarinet takes the role of the lute and imitates the sound of a barrel organ. The music begins with an ironically humorous passage, and the gorgeous, swirling tone of the basset clarinet suggests a singing voice. The clarinet ranges from the lowest to the highest notes it can produce, there are frequent changes of mood, with discordant and more strident passages, and the piece ends quietly and gently.
Thomas Adès’s Alchymia is a unique and wondrous composition.
Beethoven’s String Quartet in F Major, Op. 59 No. 1 ‘Razumovsky’ (1806) represented a significant development in his writing for the string quartet as it is substantially longer, at around 40 minutes, than typical quartets of the era and is more demanding, with more sophisticated thematic development.
The Doric quartet’s exceptional performance captured Beethoven’s musical language and the way in which he establishes the music’s emotional range. The third movement, Adagio molto e mesto (very slow and sad), was especially enchanting, and resonated with Adès’s Lachrymae.
In response to audience acclamation, the ensemble gave an encore, and the choice was inspired—the Larghetto movement of Mozart’s clarinet quintet K581. Mozart wrote his quintet for the basset clarinet, and this excellent rendition again confirmed Van’t Hoff as a clarinettist of the highest rank. It also provided valuable insights into Adès’s Alchymia, as the mellifluous sound of the basset clarinet that Mozart wanted could be compared with the extended sound palette of Adès’s inventive work.
Van’t Hoff can make the basset clarinet sound as strident as a B flat clarinet, as ethereal as a flute and as resonant as a bassoon or bass clarinet, and his realisation of Adès’s sonic tapestry came into clearer focus upon hearing the Mozart.
This Musica Viva concert was not only an absolute delight but also an education in inventive musical composition and performance.
Chris Reid
When: 25 June
Where: Adelaide Town Hall
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Symphony Orchestra. Elder Hall. 20 Jun 2026
Major orchestras are often criticised for their programming choices: not enough new music, too many potboilers, too many white male composers, not enough women, and the list goes on. It is a hot topic, and Australia’s leading arts and music magazine, Limelight, regularly publishes surveys tracking matters such as gender diversity and the representation of Australian and living composers. The findings vary from state to state and ensemble to ensemble, but historical works continue to dominate subscription seasons, even as there appears to be a growing push to feature contemporary and historically underrepresented voices.
So, it is a remarkable thing that a major orchestra like the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra should create a series such as She Speaks, dedicated to music by female composers, particularly those still living and creating today. Now an annual initiative, the series was launched in 2021 with a program curated by Adelaide-born composer and academic Anne Cawrse. Since then, it has presented both world premières of newly commissioned works by Australian women and Australian premières of music by prominent international composers.
As exciting as this is, the challenge is to avoid the “première and goodbye” phenomenon, where a work is performed once and then quietly shelved. Music history is littered with such casualties. How does new music become part of the standard repertoire? Today’s musical ecosystem is fundamentally different from that of even fifty years ago, largely because technology has made the world inextricably interconnected. Yet that alone is insufficient to secure a work’s future. Performers, conductors and ensembles must champion new music through repeated performances. Conservatories need to embed it within their curricula, publishers must produce authoritative editions, and broadcasters need to provide meaningful exposure. Only then can new works establish a foothold in the repertoire.
But none of this matters unless audiences actually like the music and want to hear it again, and again. Arguably, Adelaide audiences have sometimes been hesitant to embrace programs built around contemporary music. It was therefore pleasing to be part of a supportive, if modestly sized, audience in Adelaide University’s Elder Hall for a concert featuring several works that deserve a future life well beyond a single performance and would sit comfortably within a standard subscription series.
The program comprised six compositions by composers largely from English-speaking traditions. There were three Australian premières and one world première. Four of the six composers are still living, one of whom is 98 years of age.
The concert opened with Overture by Polish composer Grażyna Bacewicz, written in 1943 during the Nazi occupation of Poland. It is a brisk and energetic work dominated by woodwinds, brass and timpani, whose rhythmic drive propels the music relentlessly forward. Conductor Sara Duhig set and maintained a buoyant pace while allowing the contrasting lyrical central section, featuring especially fine flute playing, to emerge with clarity and warmth.
Grace-Evangeline Mason’s Upon Weightless Wings is cast in three brief movements and scored for an ensemble of around fifteen players, including tubular bells. Performed without a conductor, leadership passes naturally between instrumental groups as the musical focus shifts. Inspired by three contemporary artworks, each movement conveys a distinct sense of liberation, optimism and the exhilaration of new beginnings.
Anne Cawrse’s The King Walks in the Orangerie was the major work of the program: a setting for tenor and string ensemble of Kathryn Purnell’s narrative poem of the same name. Tenor Kyle Stegall majestically announces himself as the ghost of Louis XIV before reflecting on his regal life, loves and legacy. The score is exuberant and dramatically compelling, giving the soloist ample opportunity to explore the complexities of the so-called Sun King as he navigates joy, anger, wonder, remorse, regret, and suspicion while contemplating events that unfolded long after his death at the Palace of Versailles. Stegall is an accomplished operatic tenor who understands the importance of inhabiting a role. That approach is essential here: this is as much a character portrayal as it is an extended song cycle. The work deserves to be heard again—and widely. Organisations such as State Opera should not hesitate to program it as part of a gala concert or thematic presentation. Unfortunately, the acoustic of the upper level of Elder Hall occasionally compromised textual clarity.
Anna Clyne’s Within Her Arms is also scored for a small string orchestra of fifteen players, and once again the ASO performed without a conductor. Although contemporary in origin, the work evokes echoes of the English Renaissance through its mournful, drone-like sonorities. Gradually, the textures broaden and intensify, creating an ever-richer palette of colour and resonance. At its heart lies an almost de-personalised meditation on grief and remembrance. It is a work of quiet power that could enrich many different types of concert programs.
Thea Musgrave’s Night Windows is a suite of five miniatures celebrating the oboe’s capacity to embody searching, questioning, and discovery. Joshua Oates delivered a masterclass in control and expression, capturing the music’s fleeting mysteries and its sense of the known yet unseen. In some respects, the work is deliberately elusive: it offers tantalising gli mpses of resolution before withdrawing them, movement after movement. Only in the closing moments of the final movement, Frenzy, does Musgrave finally provide release, ending with an emphatic exclamation that feels as though the lights have suddenly been switched on.
The concert concluded with a highly entertaining performance of Imogen Holst’s Persephone. Alongside the Cawrse song cycle, it was one of the evening’s highlights. The full orchestra returned to the stage and, within moments, one could be forgiven for thinking a French Impressionist work had slipped onto the program. The musical narrative is expansive and pastoral, with superb interplay between flutes, strings and woodwinds. Like several works heard throughout the evening, this is a piece that deserves a place in mainstream orchestral programming.
She Speaks is a remarkable initiative by the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra. Long may it continue and may many of the works it champions avoid the fate of becoming yet more victims of the “première and goodbye” phenomenon.
Kym Clayton
When: 20 Jun
Where: Elder Hall
Bookings: Closed