Australian String Quartet. Elder Hall. 16 May 2025
The Australian String Quartet’s current touring program, entitled Rapture, is as much a musical event as it is a concert. As one enters the graceful Elder Hall, the audience does so in dimmed light with the focus squarely on the empty chairs set in a semicircle on the wood panelled stage bathed in a dappled red light. Red; the colour of passion and love, indeed rapture. Musical expressions of love can be mawkish, but the ASQ’s program was anything but. It was passionate and visceral, and featured works by two strikingly different composers of the past – Beethoven and Janáček – and two contemporary composers – Vanessa Perica (b.1982), from Australia, and Osvaldo Golijov (b.1960) from Argentina. Perica’s composition is receiving its national première during the tour, and she attended the concert and accepted generous applause.
The members of the ASQ not only play passionately and technically well, but they also genuinely love the music they play, and develop a deep appreciation of the composers’ intentions. This gives them an edge, a razor-sharp interpretative edge that cuts through and reveals the very heart of the music. Indeed, listening to their interpretations is sometimes like hearing a piece for the first time. This was very much the case with Beethoven’s String Quartet No.11 in F minor, Op.95, known as Serioso, and Janáček’s String Quartet No.2, known as Intimate Letters. The ensemble’s approach to both gave one pause to reflect on the range of emotions and textures in both compositions.
The Beethoven is one of his shortest quartets, and it features genre-breaking approaches that are vanguards to new stylistic expressions. The ASQ captured the inherent tension, sense of urgency, and contrasting playful joy that the piece offers. The counterpoint was beautifully exposed.
The Janáček quartet was composed late in his life and is a musical homage to a younger married woman for whom he had a deep love. Janáček said of this quartet, "... the notes glow with all the dear things that we've experienced together. You stand behind every note, you, living, forceful, loving … but everything's still only longed for ... it's beautiful, strange, unrestrained, inspired, a composition beyond all the usual conventions". The ASQ managed to capture the eclecticism of the composition as it traverses Janáček’s emotional story. It traverses a gamut of emotions and just needs to be listened to, and watched, and the audience just loved it.
It is always a special experience when hearing a new work, and so much more special when it is written by a composer who is straddling genres. In his introductory remarks from the stage, ASQ leader Dale Barltrop commented that the ensemble had been ‘watching’ Vanessa Perica for a number of years (and she them!), and that her jazz background has influenced her foray into modern classical music. As one audience member remarked to this reviewer during the interval, “there’s a lot going on in that”. Perica’s String Quartet No.1 known as No feeling is final is rich with diverse melodies that are driven at a relentless pace as they evolve and become something new not to be repeated – there is no obvious (at least on a first listening) development and recapitulation of thematic material. The motifs are ephemeral; nothing is final! The rhythms are at times jazzy, and at other times seemingly rooted in French impressionist music. At times it is brash and discordant which is then tempered with almost minimalist expressions and hypnotically repeated patters such as in the style of Philip Glass or Steve Reich. This is Perica’s first string quartet, and one can almost not wait for her second!
The concert closes with Golijov’s heat rending Tenebrae for string quartet. (It was originally scored for soprano, clarinet, and string quartet.) The stage lights were dimmed even lower for the performance as a nod to an Easter tradition of progressively extinguishing candles one by one until the congregation is left in darkness. The composition is exquisitely contemplative, and Michael Dahlenburg is especially fine on cello, and Barltrop and Francesca Hiew give a master class in the art of playing violin at the softest levels of volume without the listener being aware of the actual beginning and ends of phrases and the mechanical harshness of bow scraping across strings.
At the end of the Golijov, the audience and the ensemble sat motionless and silent for a full fifteen seconds soaking up the occasion. Then there was unbridled applause with many on their feet wolf whistling.
What an event.
Kym Clayton
When: 16 May
Where: Elder Hall
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Festival. Adelaide Town Hall. 14 Mar 2025
One of the last events in the 2025 Adelaide Festival featured two of the world’s best artists – pianist Daniil Trifonov and baritone Matthias Goerne. In the first half of the program Trifonov performed the complete Tchaikovsky’s Children’s Album, Op. 39 (from memory), and after the interval they both presented Schubert’s glorious song cycle Schwanengesang (Swan Songs). Trifonov was originally scheduled to perform Schubert’s Piano Sonata No.21, also composed in the last year of his short life, but this was substituted by the Tchaikovsky for unstated reasons.
Tchaikovsky’s Children’s Album, Op. 39, composed in 1878, is a collection of 24 short piano pieces inspired by Robert Schumann’s Album für die Jugend, Op. 68. Tchaikovsky intended the work to provide accessible yet artistically meaningful music for young pianists, unlike technical exercises. The pieces offer vivid character, storytelling, and emotional depth, making them engaging for both players and listeners.
Each piece depicts a distinct scene or mood. While not arranged in a strict key sequence as one might find in a set of preludes, the pieces progress with a diversity of tempo, character, and difficulty. They range from simple, folk-like melodies to more expressive and technically intricate compositions. Although written for young pianists, the suite presents challenges that require both technical control and musical sensitivity, with many of them demanding nuanced phrasing and dynamic contrast. Trifonov demonstrated his masterful technique with staccato mischievousness in The Hobby Horse and silky-smooth legato in Sweet Dream, crisp and steady rhythm in March of the Wooden Soldiers, and finely managed pedal control throughout. His performance of In Church was eerily but sublimely contemplative. Trifonov has remarkable forearm strength and is consequently very economical in his body physicality. Although the writing is comparatively unpretentious, it still requires the pianist to vividly tell stories, and Trifonov is clearly a storyteller of the first order.
When it was finished, the audience erupted in generous and sustained applause knowing they had witnessed a pianist at the very top of the game breathing life and purpose into a work that is infrequently presented on the professional concert stage.
Schubert’s Schwanengesang (Swan Songs) is a posthumous collection of songs published in 1829, the year after the composer’s death. Unlike his earlier cycles, Die schöne Müllerin (1823) and Winterreise (1827), Schwanengesang was not originally conceived as a unified song cycle. Instead, it consists of 14 songs set to texts by Ludwig Rellstab, Heinrich Heine, and (in some editions) Johann Gabriel Seidl. Despite this, the collection is often considered a cycle because of its cohesive emotional and musical themes, making it a profound final statement from Schubert. In that sense, the collection is very much Schubert’s ‘swan song’ in the colloquial meaning of the term, and the title Swan Song was coined by his publisher, not Schubert himself.
Unlike in Die schöne Müllerin and Winterreise, which comprise structured narrative cycles telling stories of love, rejection, heartbreak, alienation and despair, Schwanengesang is a thematic collection and lacks a single protagonist. However, its songs explore various facets of love and farewell. The Rellstab songs (e.g., Liebesbotschaft, Frühlingssehnsucht) evoke themes of nature, romantic yearning, and passion, often with an undercurrent of melancholy. They are lyrical and nature-focused, often portraying love through external imagery like flowing water and springtime breezes. In contrast, the Heine settings are psychologically intense, full of irony, despair, and supernatural elements (e.g., Der Doppelgänger involves ghostly self-confrontation), and they introduce a more tragic, haunted atmosphere, reflecting betrayal, memory, and death.
Schubert’s music enhances the emotions in each poem through harmonic shifts, melodic expression, and piano writing. The rippling arpeggios of Liebesbotschaft suggest a murmuring brook, while the dark, relentless chords in Der Doppelgänger create a chilling sense of dread. Die Stadt uses impressionistic, eerie piano textures to depict fog-covered waters. Trifonov perfectly navigated varied textures and moods, from the delicate arpeggios to stark, unaccompanied chords. He maintained Schubert’s long lyrical lines while all the time balancing the vocal melody. Goerne superbly handled the lyrical beauty and tremendous emotional depth of the songs, and his legato phrasing especially in Ständchen was honeyed. Goerne’s broad dynamic range is remarkable, with evenness across the very soft to the very loud. Like Trifonov, Goerne is a master storyteller, and it is easy to see why he has been so successful in opera.
Together, Trifonov and Goerne maintained a natural and unforced flow between songs all the time respecting the varying poetic and musical characters. They each fed off the other and ensured that Trifonov’s accompaniment supported Goerne’s compelling delivery and never overpowered.
A superb concert.
Kym Clayton
When: 14 Mar
Where: Adelaide Town Hall
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Festival. Elder Hall. 13 Mar 2025
As part of the Adelaide Festival’s Daylight Express Series at the Elder Hall, Finnish piano virtuoso Paavali Jumppanen performed two behemoths from the piano literature: Pierre Boulez’s Piano Sonata No.2, and Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 29 in B-flat Major, Op. 106 (Hammerklavier). We are reliably informed this is the first time these two works have been presented together in an Australian concert hall, and it is no surprise. Neither work is for the faint hearted, and Finnish virtuoso Paavali Jumppanen is clearly not that. The two compositions, when paired in a single performance, present an Everest of a challenge to the performer, and Paavali Jumppanen is both Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay rolled into one. Not only are the two works fiendishly difficult to play, but they also make huge demands on the listener.
Scholars have sometimes compared the two compositions due to their extreme technical demands, structural complexity, and radical rethinking of musical form. Both works push the limits of what was considered possible on the piano in their respective times, embodying an uncompromising, forward-thinking approach to composition. (The Beethoven was composed in 1818 and the Boulez in 1947-48.)
Both sonatas demand virtuosic technique and stamina. The Hammerklavier is one of Beethoven’s most difficult piano works, requiring extraordinary control, power, and endurance. It expands the classical sonata form to monumental proportions and includes a fugue in the final movement that pushes counterpoint to almost breaking point. Boulez’s Piano Sonata No. 2 is also notorious for its extreme technical challenges, including rapid tempo shifts, complex rhythms, and dense textures. Although titled a sonata, it barely follows the expected path and incorporates serialism and pseudo-randomness. The Beethoven is tonal, melodic, and formal, whereas the Boulez is atonal, melodies are ephemeral and never developed, and there is no attempt at harmony. Like the Beethoven, it too breaks with rules and traditions that were current at the time they were composed.
To play them requires not only exquisite technique, which Jumppanen has in abundance, but also a deep understanding of musical structure and form, even knowing that both are sacred cows about to be slaughtered. The Beethoven is deeply expressive and dramatic, and both lyrical and grand, whereas the Boulez is cold and severe. Their connection lies in their boldness – each piece, in its own era, was a radical redefinition of what a piano sonata could be.
When Jumppanen first came on stage he fixed his eyes on the Steinway, barely acknowledged the audience, and launched into his performance. He was playing before he was barely seated! For those in the audience who had prior experience with the Boulez, which was listed first in the program, it was clear that he wasn’t playing it, and nor was it the Beethoven. A few short minutes later he finished and directly spoke to the audience announcing that he played an encore first, because he often forgot to do so! (It was Debussy’s Etude No.7.) Looking back on what was to come, there could be no encore after performing both the Boulez and the Beethoven, which together account for nearly 80 minutes of the most intense, athletic, intellectual and dynamic pianism one could ever wish to experience. Jumppanen used music for the Boulez, and the page turner (the inimitable Esmond Choi, a local star in the making) was up and down every thirty-five seconds. Using the printed music is perfectly understandable: how could one possibly remember it? The human mind constantly seeks structure against which to organise thoughts and remember, but the Boulez defies all that. On the other hand, Jumppanen played the Beethoven from memory, all eleven-hundred-and-sixty-plus bars of it, coming in at around forty-six minutes!
At the end of the concert, barely before the sounds of the crushing final fortissimo B-flat major chord began to fade, the audience leapt to their feet almost as one and enthusiastically applauded, cheered, whistled and shouted “bravo!” at what was undoubtedly an extraordinary pianistic and musical feat. One member of the audience within earshot of this reviewer could be overheard to remark that this was surely the highlight of the festival. A big call, but a big and important concert too! People will talk about this one for months to come, and rightly so.
Kym Clayton
When: 13 Mar
Where: Elder Hall
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Festival. Elder Hall. 12 Mar 2025
The Australian National Academy of Music (ANAM) is a nationally and internationally respected classical music performance training academy for Australia’s best young musicians who are well along the path to establishing themselves as musical forces to be reckoned with. Simone Young AM, who should need no introduction, has opined that “ANAM is an extraordinary institution: intense, demanding, challenging and immensely rewarding to be involved with. The musicians are totally engaged and committed.”
ANAM’s recent concert – A Viennese Matinée – as part of the Adelaide Festival’s Daylight Express Series is a palpable testament to Young’s assessment. The concert presented a tantalising taste of the musical culture of Vienna, that most musical of cities, and included works by Schubert, Mozart, Beethoven, and J. Strauss. The program was performed by six ANAM students, including three with Adelaide connections, and two of ANAM’s faculty, including Paavali Jumppanen, who is ANAM’s Artistic Director and an internationally celebrated piano virtuoso in his own right, and violinist Zoë Black.
Schubert’s sublimely beautiful Notturno for Piano Trio, Op.148 (D.897) was performed by Jasmine Milton (violin), Jack Overall (cello) and Paavali Jumppanen (piano). The piece begins delicately with bell like tones on the piano and gentle pizzicato on the strings, before the drama starts with an emphatic tutti. The pace was more measured than what is often presented allowing musical technique to be more exposed and scrutinised, but Jumppanen kept a tight rein, and both Milton and Overall, never faulted. A delightful start to the program!
Maria Zhdanovich (Flute) and Georgia White (clarinet) then performed duet arrangements of dances from Mozart’s opera The Magic Flute. The arrangements were finely balanced and elegant, and the articulation of both performers was exceptional. It’s as if the two pieces were always intended for flute and clarinet alone.
The main item on the program was Beethoven’s monumental Violin Sonata No.9 in A major, Op.47, but arranged for string quintet, featuring Zoe Black and Jasmine Milton on violin, Jamie Miles on viola, and Ariel Volovelsky and Jack Overall on cello. Scholars believe that it is likely that Beethoven himself arranged the work for string quintet in order to draw out the emotion and drama that he intended but could not find it with the piano and violin alone. Interestingly, the usual combination of instruments for a string quintet at the time included two violas, not two cellos, which gives the piece an earthier sound with much more gravitas. However, most people know the Kreutzer in its usual form for violin and piano, and many members of the audience, regardless of their appreciation in hearing the quintet format, stated their preference for the original! The original has a delicateness to it at times, which feels lost when the dialogue between two instruments becomes a cross-conversation between five. Sections of the audience applauded after each of the first two movements, but the applause at the end of the finale was thunderous!
The program concluded with Arnold Schoenberg’s arrangement of Johann Strauss II’s Emperor Waltz Op.437. Originally scored for a full orchestra, Schoenberg’s arrangement for a reduced chamber ensemble underlines his belief that it promotes “a clarity of presentation and a simplicity of formal enunciation often not possible in a rendition obscured by the richness of orchestration”. Indeed, one might suggest the listening experience becomes more challenging, as melody lines and accompaniment become more exposed. In some ways, the reverse was experienced in the listening of the expanded version of Beethoven’s Kreutzer! The full ANAM ensemble clearly enjoyed performing the arrangement, and the final movement was especially appealing in its clarity.
ANAM is an organisation to be cherished and supported at every opportunity. Our Australian musical landscape is the richer for it.
Kym Clayton
When: 12 Mar
Where: Elder Hall
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Festival. Elder Hall. 11 Mar 2025
As part of the Adelaide Festival’s Daylight Express Series at the Elder Hall, French-German cellist Nicolas Altstaedt presented a one-off concert of virtuosic gems that was bookended by two Bach suites for Solo Cello. On a warm early-Autumn afternoon, the Elder Hall was near capacity, such is Altstaedt’s celebrity. A single bench seat was located centre stage and there was an air of anticipation as the large audience waited for Altstaedt to make his eagerly awaited entrance.
With tousled hair (think Albert Einstein or Mischa Maisky) and all-black loose-fitting informal clothes, Altstaedt strode onto the stage with his 1749 Guadagnini cello in hand, sat down, and with no fuss immediately commenced his recital with JS Bach’s Suite for Cello No.1 in G major, BWV1007. There can’t be too many people who are not at least vaguely familiar with its seductively haunting Prélude. It’s a classic ear worm, and with his Guadagnini tuned slightly lower to A415 (rather than the modern standard of A440) in keeping with a baroque era fashion, the pensive melody with its tripping arpeggios danced lightly throughout the expanse of the acoustically splendid Elder Hall.
Altstaedt cut a lonely figure on the stage, almost vulnerable, but here was a musician who is at home with Bach. Rather than being exposed to the intricacies of the dances that comprise the suites, Altstaedt makes them his own with razor sharp intonation and phrasing, and immaculately controlled dynamics. His pianissimo has devastating impact. Each of Bach’s six cello suites follows the same pattern of movements, with the Sarabande dance being the centre piece. In both Suite No.1 and Suite No.5 in C minor, BWV1011, which ended the concert, Altstaedt drew out the dreaminess and sensuousness of the Sarabandes. His readings were transporting.
Between the Bach bookends were two modern compositions for unaccompanied cello, and their contrast with the Bach was both stark and exciting.
Henri Dutilleux’s Trois Strophes sur le nom de Sacher, composed as a tribute to the Swiss conductor Paul Sacher, was first performed in 1982 by the iconic Mstislav Rostropovitch. It requires the G and C strings to be tuned a semi-tone lower, which gives the sound of the instrument a somewhat darker colour on open strings. Altstaedt laid bare the liveliness and glittering tonal palette and striking rhythms of the three movements, especially in the concluding Vivace.
Altstaedt addressed the audience in between each composition and took the opportunity to outline interesting aspects including about the different tunings. Introducing Sándor Veress’s Sonata for Cello Solo, he opined that it is rarely played and that Veress has, by and large, been undeservedly overlooked as a composer. The sonata feels spontaneous, and there is an innate tension between logical development and form over what almost feels like extemporisation at times. As with the Dutilleux, Altstaedt finds threads that are not self-evident to someone who has little or no prior experience with the piece and uses them to shape a compelling performance. The applause for the Veress was exuberant, insistent, and richly deserved
The striking contrast between the two Bach Suites and the modernist pieces by Dutilleux and Veress made for an almost mesmeric concert that was made all the more special for being performed by one of today’s finest exponents of the cello. Not too many are wolf-whistled at concert end!
Kym Clayton
When: 11 Mar
Where: Elder Hall
Bookings: Closed