Graduate Singers. St Peter’s Cathedral. 12 Dec 2025
The Graduate Singers (or the ‘Grads) are an impressive outfit. They sing beautifully, they tackle diverse repertoire, they have a large and loyal following (understandably), and they are dramatic in their delivery.
Tonight’s concert, their final one for the year, is being held in St Peter’s Cathedral on a balmy summer’s evening to a near capacity audience. The program includes classics from both the sacred and secular repertoire, and … community carol singing, which for many was a highlight of the event.
The Grads number fifty-five at full strength and tonight’s concert features forty-four of them, not including Karl Geiger – their Director of Music and tonight’s conductor. St Peter’s presents challenges for such a large choir: it’s not easy to fit them in (along with any instrumentalists), and the acoustic of the cathedral punishes less than precise singing.
Geiger’s selection of songs was clever. Collectively they told the story of Christmas from religious and worldly perspectives, and they laid bare the evolution of spiritual thinking to something less mysterious, more relaxed and grounded in humanism. A greater contrast there could not be in starting the concert with Once in Royal David’s City as a community carol, following it with Hassler’s 1591 setting of The Word Became Flesh and ending the program with Joseph Twist’s joyous tongue-firmly-in-cheek Australian carol Christmas in the Sun! At appropriate times the audience sat in hushed reverential silence, and at others they were whistling and laughing. The concert had everything.
Geiger has obvious command of the choir, with clear and purposeful gesturing that evokes appropriate emotional responses from the choristers as well as instructions for tempi, dynamics and timing. And Geiger is mischievous! He toys with the audience as he encourages them to sing even louder the next time to raise the vaulted roof of the cathedral. It was almost pantomimical and one could imagine exchanges along the lines of “I bet you can sing louder!”, “Oh no we can’t”, “Oh yes you can!”. It was a joy.
Cleverly, Geiger has the choir surround the entire audience on four sides at the beginning. The process, and the occasion feels solemn as well as theatrical. David Heah on organ is impressive, with carefully controlled dynamics, and he works well with the five instrumentalists, which include trumpet, trombone, cello, horn and tuba (which is especially well played).
As previously mentioned, the acoustic of a cathedral space is challenging, and vocal articulation is vital if a large choir is to be clearly heard (and understood). The Grads are particularly effective in delivering clear diction with songs that are pacier, and when they are unaccompanied and vibrato is minimised. There are some issues with clarity at the beginnings of phrases in My Lord Has Come, but Silent Night is near perfect and the audience clearly enjoy John Rutter’s novel arrangements of the music.
Mistletoebird is a highlight of the concert, and it’s a joy that the composer Rachel Bruerville is in the room to receive deserved applause from the large appreciative audience. Their rendition of The Magi’s Dream was dramatic and solid evidence of the Grads ability to convincingly tell a story through song.
The absolute highlight of the evening is a spirited performance of The Twelve Days of Christmas which included excellent and controlled dynamics, and a humorous burst of speed towards its conclusion. As an aside, there is a quirky article in the December 2025 edition of the Interlude.HK classical music newsletter entitled “A Fun Cost Analysis on 12 Days of Christmas” in which the authors estimate the cost of giving all those gifts! If you’re doing the full measure, which would be 12 partridges, 22 turtle doves, 30 French hens, etc., for a total of 364 presents, you’re at over $1.5 million for 12 days of fun. $1,535,405.64, to be exact. It’s expensive to be whimsical!
But there’s nothing whimsical about a Grads concert, and Songs of Joy is a vocal celebration of joy, a celebration of the human voice, and an affirmation of all that is virtuous with humanity.
Kym Clayton
When: 12 Dec
Where: St Peter’s Cathedral
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Symphony Orchestra. The Adelaide Town Hall. 28 Nov 2025
This is the final concert in the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra’s flagship Symphony Series, and it was both a resounding crowd pleaser and a musical triumph. It has everything you could want for; uplifting and rousing melodies contrasted with elegiac and tender moments, stylish interpretations of old favourites by an extraordinary internationally famed soloist, thoughtful authority and readings from a world-class conductor who radiates charm and musicality, and of course outstanding performances from all sections of our very own well-regarded symphony orchestra, which is surely at the top of its game!
The program is entitled Seasons, which gives one pause to expect the program will include works such as Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons, but that isn’t the case. Dylan Henderson’s comprehensive notes in the printed program make some effort to elucidate the reason behind the naming of the concert, but ASO management might have named it in a way that acknowledges that all the music, uncommonly, is written by English composers: Summer by Frank Bridge (1879-1941), Cello Concerto in E Minor, Op.85, by Sir Edward Elgar (1857-1934) – both performed before the interval – and Symphony No.1 in B-flat Minor by Sir William Walton (1902-1983). All three compositions had their premières between 1914 and 1939.
By the interval, the audience is buzzing. The first half of the program starts with a lush reading of Bridge’s tone poem Summer. It deserves to be played in concert halls more often that it is, and it caresses the listener into a mood of relaxed concentration. Conductor Mark Wigglesworth carefully balances the musical forces of the orchestra to allow the woodwinds to be heard clearly above the strings, and the result evokes the feeling of lazing in the English countryside.
This peace and contemplation is shattered by what follows.
Renowned German cellist Daniel Müller-Schott gives a blistering performance of the Elgar cello concerto. An icon in the repertoire, this concerto can be played far too sweetly, but Müller-Schott channels Jacqueline du Pré and makes his 1727 “Ex Shapiro” Matteo Goffrioller cello almost growl at times, especially in the concerto’s dramatic grand opening. He is intriguing to watch. With his cello perched quite high, he can almost look across at his left hand as his fingers play out their intricate dance across the fingerboard. Indeed, his fingers almost tell the story of the music as they lay bare the piece’s emotions. His bow and finger work in the faster sections of the second movement are astonishing, and members of the orchestra’s cello section give him appreciative nods and knowing smiles. During the hauntingly beautiful third movement, Müller-Schott has his eyes closed for much of the time and one senses a strong rapport and deep trust between him and Wigglesworth (who watches Müller-Schott intently and instinctively responds to his tempo and passion with great empathy). In the finale, Müller-Schott’s pure enjoyment is on display as he exchanges glances and smiles with the orchestra’s Associate Principal Cello Sharon Grigoryan and Concertmaster Kate Suthers (violin). The concerto ends almost as it begins, with drama and strong growls evoked from the cello, and before the final note can fade away the audience erupts into feverish applause. Müller-Schott then proceeds to give a Bach encore and makes it sound as if it had only just been written! The audience response is again emphatic – they have just witnessed a dramatically classy interpretation of an old favourite, and they loved it.
After the interval, Symphony No.1 by Walton is played. Like the earlier piece by Bridge, it too is infrequently heard, which is a great shame. It has intensity, drama, poignancy, pathos, melodic lyricism, and majesty – everything the more often performed European composers have to offer. (It might be said that tonight’s entire program throws a very appealing, and revealing, spotlight onto English music, and it comes up trumps. At the interval, one audience member said to me that at the start they weren’t sure how they were going to feel once the concert was over, but it was proving to be a welcome and much appreciated revelation.) The symphony’s first movement is intense. It starts with an ominous timpani roll and the horns announce a motif that recurs throughout the work. Wigglesworth is at his most animated as the piece becomes more and more passionate before relaxing into a second subject to close. The second movement gives no pause for rest: like Müller-Schott in the opening bars of the Elgar concerto, the ASO’s cellos and double basses are animated and the picture of studied concentration as they grapple the almost stinging and scowling score. Wigglesworth watches intently and rides the waves of bristling excitement with them. The third movement gives us respite: it is elegiac and tender, and exquisitely lyrical. Joshua Oates’ work on oboe and Mark Gaydon on bassoon is beautiful and almost causes you to stop breathing for a while. The fourth and final movement has filmic qualities. Again, the horns and woodwinds capture our attention early and the movement builds to an almost orgiastic close. Wigglesworth clearly finds the rampant humanity in the piece and smiles at his troops throughout.
Strangely, but understandably, the audience’s applause at the end seemed initially a little reserved. Perhaps the Walton was not something they were familiar with, but the applause is sustained and generous, and elevates a substantial notch when Wigglesworth hands over the gorgeous bouquet of flowers (sponsored by Tynte Flowers) he had been presented with to the ASO’s principal trumpet David Khafagi who is genuinely shocked to receive them but holds them high (along with his trumpet and with a beaming smile) as he accepts the accolades and enthusiastic applause. It’s as if he has just been crowned the heavy weight champion of the world! Khafagi is jubilant, but his performance of the tender “last post” solo in the slow coda of the finale was indeed affecting. The flowers are well deserved!
The ASO is just brilliant under Mark Wigglesworth, and tonight’s program was an eye opener in many ways. We can all look forward to the 2026 program with great anticipation. Tickets are now selling!
Kym Clayton
When: 28 Nov
Where: Adelaide Town Hall
Bookings: Closed
Musica Viva. The Adelaide Town Hall. 12 Nov 2025
Polish pianist Piotr Anderszewski is currently touring Australia for Musica Viva, and his one-and-only concert in the Adelaide Town Hall was a provocative reminder about how important it is to experience art music ‘live’, rather than choosing recordings too often.
Why provocative? Because his interpretations are sometimes so different to what one is accustomed on ‘definitive’ recordings that his playing rouses one to listen closely as if hearing the music for the first time, and reminds us that performing music is a very personal and human activity.
Anderszewski is recognised as being a superlative interpreter of the music of Brahms, and the first half of his program is entirely Brahms - a selection of short pieces all around 5 minutes duration each from Seven Fantasies, Op. 116, Three Intermezzi, Op. 117, Six Pieces for Piano, Op. 118, and Four Pieces for Piano, Op. 119.
Anderszewski appears reserved and fully focussed as he purposefully and deliberately strides to the piano, adjusts his chair, gently places his hands on the keyboard and gently coaxes the Intermezzo No. 1, Op. 119 from the mighty concert Steinway. But he is not eliciting something that is pre-set and rigidly unchanging, such as what we might hear again and again on a recording. His performance is unique to the very moment and is dependent on his emotional base at the time. For the next 50 minutes or so we hear the music of Brahms as perhaps Brahms himself might have heard it in his own mind as he first composed it. We hear a performance in which the quietest notes seem quite alone, the fortés have unnerving clarity and authority, passage work has gossamer-like delicacy, unusual harmonies sound ‘in place’, emotion is ‘worn on the sleeve’ without becoming mawkish, and brooding sadness becomes a thing of beauty.
Anderszewski plays all twelve Brahms pieces with only the briefest pause between each one. There is no room for audience applause. The pieces are carefully sequenced together as if they belong together as a single composition, and they almost do, for that is the response Anderszewski evokes from the listener.
The second half of the program features two Bach Preludes & Fugues (E major BWV 878, and G-sharp minor BWV 887) from The Well Tempered Clavier, Book II, and Beethoven’s penultimate Piano Sonata No 31 in A-flat, Op. 110. If Anderszewski was ever idiosyncratic in his interpretations with anything on his program, it was certainly with these.
There is an enormous collection of recordings available of the Bach Preludes and Fugues, and it is easy to adopt a favourite and compare a live performance to that. By doing so, it is probable that Anderszewski’s interpretations might ‘jar’ a little in that he capitalises on the modern piano’s ability to give lush, romantic and sonorous characteristics to something that might otherwise be more accustomed to a more detached sound that amplifies the counterpoint. But, Anderszewski’s interpretation was fresh and exciting, and as one member of the audience remarked withing my hearing “It’s as if I’d never heard it before, and I must now listen to it again when I get home.”
In the mighty Beethoven Piano Sonata No. 31, Anderszewski employed a surprising amount rubato and was almost talking to himself as he played, something akin to the style of the legendary Glenn Gould. Beethoven’s last two piano sonatas stand in distinction to what came before – they almost presage jazz – and Anderszewski demonstrated this at the keyboard. It felt as if he was extemporising at times, and the result was electric.
The next time I hear Anderszewski in concert it won’t be soon enough.
Kym Clayton
When: 12 Nov
Where: Adelaide Town Hall
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Entertainment Centre. Frontier Touring. 27 Oct 2025
The Adelaide leg of Teddy Swims Ive Tried Everything but Therapy tour is opened by the consummate performer, Matt Corby, who—whilst perhaps being better suited to more intimate venues—receives great support from the audience as he warms us up for the main event with renditions of Brother, Resolution, and other numbers from his catalogue.
By the time Teddy Swims strides onto the Adelaide Entertainment Centre stage on Monday night, the air is thick with a rare blend of anticipation and affection. The Georgia-born powerhouse has always carried himself like a man who’s fought to earn every second of applause, and we are ready to meet him there.
As smoke curls upward from the edge of a vast, curving ramp that arches like a wave across the AEC stage, the highest point sits shrouded in shadow until, with a flash of pyrotechnic light, Teddy Swims appears—as if conjured from the fire itself. Clad in his signature casual swagger—half rock star, half preacher of feeling (and sporting a Rob Thomas singlet!)—Swims launches into Not Your Man with a grin that seems to say, “We’re gonna get honest tonight”.
The opener sets the tone for an evening of contrasts—swagger, surrender, bravado, and vulnerability, the unguarded tenderness that has turned Teddy Swims from an internet voice into one of soul-pop’s most magnetic live performers. The groove-heavy pulse of Hammer to the Heart follows. Its polished production given a raw, muscular energy by the live band. Swims’ voice—that gravelly, gospel-trained thunder—hits like a siren, shaking the room not just with power, but with control. Every note carries intent.
By Apple Juice, the crowd has fallen into his rhythm completely. What’s so compelling about Swims on stage is his disarming authenticity; he performs as if every lyric still stings a little, and maybe it does—for there is no doubt it comes from the bottom of his heart.
Then comes She Loves the Rain, which feels like a cinematic scene break. The lights are dimmed and the melody spills like mist through the space. There’s a kind of catharsis in the way Swims leans into heartbreak, never over-dramatising it, he just lets it breathe. Are You Even Real deepens the emotional groove and a stunning duet with backup singer Devin Velez contrasts beautifully with Swims’ voice, cracking on the bridge in a way that is now synonymous with his style.
Devil in a Dress and Bad Dreams up the tempo and remind us that soul doesn’t have to sit still. The former’s sultry swagger has the crowd moving, Swims’ channelling a modern tattooed Otis Redding. On Bad Dreams, his band, Freak Freely tighten the screws—drums crisp, guitar slicing through—until Swims’ vocals erupt into something close to defiance as the stage is cloaked in a thick blanket of smoke.
In a set filled with confessionals, there’s a new track called Free Drugs which lands like a moment of dark humour and hard truth. “It’s about trying to feel better the wrong way,” Swims says of the number, the audience falling silent as the song’s closing line “I just want to feel something real” lingers in the air.
Funeral comes next, slow-burning and devastating, with his backing vocalists, Jemila Richardson, Olivia Kuper Harris, and the aforementioned Devin Velez building a gospel swell that lifts the song from mourning to redemption. Then What More Can I Say offers something tender, almost conversational.
The emotional pacing of the set is impeccable. By the time we reach 911 and Need You More, Swims has the audience oscillating between heartbreak and release. On Black & White, he finds the balance again, Swims' phrasing in a duet with Jemila Richardson is gentle and precise.
Then comes one of the night’s most poignant and intimate moments: Small Hands. Swims pauses before starting, visibly choked with emotion as he dedicates the song to his newborn son. The crowd softens into complete stillness as Swims sits and sings, alone on the stage front stairs. “I’ll hold the world for you until you can,” he sings, and time briefly stops in the stadium.
The mood lightens with a heartfelt cover of ILLENIUM’s All That Really Matters. It is less EDM and more soulful testimony as Swims' strips it back into a piano-led anthem. Some Things I’ll Never Know and Northern Lights follow in seamless succession, the former as a wonderful duet with Olivia Kuper Harris, the latter blooming with an almost cinematic beauty as the lighting crew paint the stage like the illuminated night sky. Guilty is pure fire—tight, bluesy, and unrepentant—while God Went Crazy gives Swims a chance to stretch himself vocally, flipping between delicate falsetto and full-throated roar.
Then comes one of the night’s more playful moments. For You’re Still the One, Swims' turns the audience into a game show, having them pull random numbers and letters from a jar for a giant jukebox projected on the screens behind him. The combination, of course, lands on Shania Twain’s timeless ballad. Swims' wraps his soulful rasp around Twain’s country-pop and turns the chorus into a communal singalong.
From there, Your Kind of Crazy and the viral behemoth Lose Control bring the night to its emotional and sonic peak. Swims’ chart-dominating anthem of longing and addiction, Lose Control hits with the power of a confession shouted into the night. When he sings, “You’re breaking my heart // You make a mess of me,” thousands of voices join him.
As Swims leaves the stage in a cloak of darkness the crowd start chanting for an encore. Swims' obliges with Bed on Fire, his voice ragged with passion, the performance teetering beautifully between control and collapse, as the set’s pyrotechnic display slips into overdrive. Goodbye’s Been Good to You follows, and then The Door, a perfect closer, hopeful, restrained, and steeped in gratitude.
When the lights finally rose, Swims lingers at the edge of the stage, bowing low and pressing a hand to his heart. For an artist whose voice can level a room, it is his humility that leaves the deepest mark.
Teddy Swims’ Adelaide performance wasn’t just a concert; it was a masterclass in emotional generosity. After more than two hours in his company it’s clear that Swims doesn’t just sing songs, he lives them, bleeds them, and leaves a little piece of himself behind in every room lucky enough to hear him.
Paul Rodda
When: 27 Oct
Where: Adelaide Entertainment Centre
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Symphony Orchestra. Adelaide Town Hall. 10 Oct 2025
Fate is the seventh concert in the current flagship Symphony Series presented by the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra (ASO). It was held in the Adelaide Town Hall and included Angel: Poem Nocturne by Feodor Akimenko, Beethoven’s Concerto for Piano No.1 in C, Op.15, and Tchaikvosky’s Symphony No.4 in F minor, Op.36. The concert was conducted by the internationally acclaimed Martyn Brabbins and featured Benjamin Grosvenor on the piano, and it was fabulous!
Feodor Akimenko (1876-1945) was a Ukrainian pianist and composer, and some of his catalogue can be found on YouTube, although he is not well known. This reviewer, and presumably other lovers of fine music, first became aware of Akimenko’s music in the days and months that followed Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, when the broader arts community became interested in actively supporting Ukrainian artists and culture. Indeed, the ASO has recently performed works by Valentin Silvestrov and Victoria Poleva.
Akimenko's Angel, dubbed a ‘poem nocturne’, comes in at around ten minutes and is sublime. Its orchestration is lush but clean, and its melodies soar and descend as might a spirit exploring unworldly places. Martyn Brabbins ensured the orchestra played with exquisite articulation and phrasing, which was a feature of the entire concert. Angel gently encourages the listener to close one’s eyes and drift with the music. It is sublime. Angel does not leave the listener with an ‘ear worm’ to hum later, but it is deeply satisfying, and the feeling of contentment lingers long afterwards.
Benjamin Grosvenor is one of the finest pianists of his generation, and he partnered superbly with Brabbins to get right under the skin of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No.1 and expose its rich melodies, tonal surprises, invention, liveliness, and humour. As intimated above, Brabbins ensured the orchestra’s phrasing was eloquent and empathetic to the soloist. Grosvenor was superb at the keyboard, and like Brabbins, he accomplished his music making cleanly and without distracting histrionics. Grosvenor looked calm and in total control, and during the lyrical and stately largo second movement, he almost gave the impression he was analysing the music as he played it. The dialogue between the piano and clarinet was simply gorgeous. The final movement saw Grosvenor unleash his virtuosic skills, but none more so than in the Ravel encore he generously performed at the concerto’s conclusion, which was a true highlight of the evening: elegant dynamics with impressive and precisely executed cross and overlapping hands. Grosvenor accepted the enthusiastic applause almost with humbleness, and the audience knew it had heard something special.
Brabbins reading of Tchaikvosky’s Symphony No.4 exposed the string sections of the ASO as the true stars that they are. The third movement features extended pizzicato sections, and the magnificence of the music only comes through clearly if each section of the strings plays ‘as one’ as the pizzicato is executed, otherwise it risks becoming blurred. The strings of the ASO came up trumps and it was a joy to see the principal string players lead with precision, clarity and unyielding strictness in timing and tempo. Brabbins allowed them to get on with it and never unnecessarily imposed himself on their music making. The symphony features a number of sumptuous and memorable melodies that are enthusiastically proclaimed by the brass, horns, and woodwinds, and by the time it is over one’s faith in humanity and the sheer restorative power of music is somewhat restored.
Fittingly, Brabbins insisted on every section of the ASO taking a well-deserved bow, not just some. This reviewer is still smiling that the strings were also singled out, and deservedly so. They are so often taken for granted.
Kym Clayton
When: 10 Oct
Where: Adelaide Town Hall
Bookings: Closed