Concert Hall Memories....etc

So Hamer Hall is 30...... Forgive me if, in the following memoir I get something wrong...Memories do twist a bit with time.

The Concert Hall in Brisbane was not quite ready to use when
I migrated from Brisbane to Melbourne. It must have been close to ready, though, as I had been involved with work on the restaurant signage (notably, the feet of the lyrebird, if that makes any sense to anyone... there's another story there).

When I came to Melbourne in 1986 there was a great big round thing called The Concert Hall and the first concert I went to there sure was memorable - how lucky was I to have heard the ever lovely Victoria de Los Angeles singing Spanish Songs accompanied by the incomparable Geoffrey Parsons.

I think I must have even had reasonable seats, by the quality of that memory. I remember this beautiful lady gliding out onto the stage (as if on wheels!) in a flowing, tomato red gown, massive sparkling diamonds on her wrist and neck. Someone handed her a bunch of roses which she tossed onto the piano...but can they have stayed there? Is this an unreliable memory? Wouldn't the piano lid have been open? Could they have rested on the music stand? Sigh. Please correct me about this, if you were there too. I also remember that after a whole program in Spanish the encore was quite a shock. Suddenly a perfectly plummy English accent emerged as she sang Blow the Wind Southerly...

Another Melbourne Concert Hall highlight was hearing, a couple of years later, pianist, Ivo Pogorelich...though I remember him being a very, very long way away (not-so-good seats that time, but I do believe they were comps). He was very tall. I don't remember the program (but I do remember what I wore and I still have that dress).

That was probably the same year in which I was employed (along with a few hundred others) as an extra in Aida in Princes Park. That was interesting...and fun. Grace Bumbry was Aida. We saw her close up (but I didn't get to see the elephants performing, or the acrobats and fire-breathers in action, or much of the opera). Our Italian costumes were great, especially the turned-up-at-the-toe leather sandals. I would have liked to have kept them...but we didn't get paid if we kept our sandals.

In between the concerts of Victoria and Ivo I do believe the Concert Hall had a birthday. Not just a birthday but a birthday party too, and we were all invited. It was 5 years old. That party seemed to be over catered and under attended (spare hotdogs). There were free glasses of champagne and slices of the huge Concert Hall shaped birthday cake, as well as the hotdogs. You know that black wave sculpture thing next to the Concert Hall? It was replicated on the cake, along with lots of green grass.

And another memory from that inbetween time - Eartha Kitt. For some reason I think the tickets must have been very cheap, because I went to both of her Concert Hall shows....yes I believe it was a short notice concert when Michel Legrand had to cancel his tour. Apart from  looking fabulous in a long, slender, black dress, and singing all those wonderful songs, Eartha made one unsuspecting usher bring her champagne on stage...and then teased him about his youthful age, and forced him to drink a glass.

I went to a lot more concerts in the Concert Hall after it turned 5. What a thrill it was to see my hero, Jordi Savall, there for the first time! How could I have known then that I would end up with a jar on my shelf containing the used green teabag of this master viol player (a true sacred relic - fact).

Confusion reigned for a short while when the Concert Hall suddenly became Hamer Hall...I do know of  some people who headed off in a different direction when they read Hamer Hall on their concert tickets....(they did make it back in time for the concert).
and when was it, what was the occasion that gave the Concert Hall exterior a dressing of flashing lights around the top, which made it look as though it might just take off at any minute??

It always seemed terribly big to me until recently. Maybe I grew, because when I took my daughter to a concert there a few years ago, just before the renovations started, I no longer found it so huge. On our more recent trips to the Recital Centre I've always made a point of looking to see how the Concert Hall renovations are going, and wondering about the big chandelier.... and I'm yet to attend a concert in the newly renovated Hall...

Up the front, on the top of the Recital Centre Double Decker Bus.

Booking for the Takacs Quartet at the Melbourne Recital Centre tricked me up a bit...two different programs, things in the diary to juggle...and my preferred seats WERE NOT available!

The need to hear the Ravel string quartet meant the Tuesday night concert, and I ended up with the front-of-the-bus seat in the upper wings. That's ok, thought I, I haven't had that seat before, I believe in the Recital Centre, and it is my duty to try this seat and report on the experience to the world in general. I'd also always wanted to see the Takacs Quartet from above (hadn't I?).

Walking out into the upper wings was dizzying at first but ended up being just fine, good in fact, even if the rows of stage lights were at eye level, just over there.

I was interested to see the green blinds down quite a long way and took this to mean that a lot of care had been taken with setting up, and working with, the acoustic for this performance. The sound was indeed excellent...of course that was to be expected from a bunch of musos who have been at their craft together for many, many years.
Could these musicians actually be capable of a bad performance? Could anyone ever write a bad review of them? I really doubt it.
One could try calling them a well oiled machine, or use some culinary analogy of flavours mixed to perfection......but to be honest they were far more than any of those things. They were simply a superb group of musicians who knew and loved what they were doing.

Before interval we heard Janacek and Britten, after interval Gordon Kerry and Ravel. Mid winter in Melbourne certainly brought out ripe, fruity coughing in abundance from the audience - not a problem for this combination of brilliant composers and talented interpreters. The coughs were soothed to a charmed silence by the magic of the quartet. Indeed, I doubt I have heard the Hall more reverently silent, though I do recall a similar experience with a String Quartet. Thanks to Musica Viva for checking the archives to confirm my memories of the Carmina Quartet  in the Melbourne Concert Hall in September 1989, a group who also mesmerised the audience, on that occasion playing Bartok.

Listening to the Takacs Quartet reminded me of how different string quartets can sound when compared with each other ... and how much I noticed this during the Melbourne International Chamber music Competition last year. The Takacs Quartet also showed just how varied the sound coming from one group of four people can be. Balance is everything, and that is something which really only comes from playing together for a long period of time.

Of course, apart from overall balance, each member of the quartet had moments to shine, and shine they did. We don't get many opportunities to learn to love the viola and the middle range in which it lives. I need to thank the viola player of the Takacs for allowing me to hear, and understand and love, the instrument a little more. I don't need to dissect the pieces on the program. It was all brilliant music beautifully played. The program notes were excellent and I must congratulate Musica Viva on the continuing support they give to  Australian composers (I wish we had heard more from Gordon Kerry). I'd enjoyed hearing Gordon Kerry interviewed on the radio about being part of the Takacs tour. I had hoped that Musica Viva might do the "meet the artists" thing as done with the Eggner Trio  and composer Ian Munro.

Re-reading the program notes, it is tempting to hear the other program of Janacek, Britten, Kerry and Debussy, on next Saturday night.

Tuesday's concert was an intense experience of complexity and wide ranging emotions. At the end I felt very grateful, and thankful, for the composers, and the inspiring and hard working performers whose artistry brought this amazing music to life. (and thankful for the audience who support the concerts...and Musica Viva... and the Recital Centre for being a beautiful place...is there anyone else I need to thank?)

Sometimes, human beings are capable of truly great things.

Melbourne, circa 1957

Melbourne Recital Centre Salon, Wednesday 13th June 2012

The Elisabeth Murdoch Hall at Melbourne Recital Centre has become a bit of a favourite place for me. I've now been to many memorable concerts there and know exactly which seats I want...but I think I might have a new favourite. Wednesday night was my first experience of a concert in the Recital Centre Salon - Benjamin Martin, piano and the Elanee Ensemble (double bass and viola).

The Salon had seating for 120 concert goers and I would think there were fewer than 100 in attendance. For this short concert the program was all 20th and 21st Century (apart from a Chopin Barcarolle which Benjamin Martin added at the start as a tribute to his teacher). We heard Bartok, Barber, Ravel, Menotti, Berio, Riley (arranged by Martin) and a composition by Martin himself for piano, double bass and viola.

It was a lovely concert in which accomplished and sensitive musicians gave fine performances. The repertoire was also a nice surprise (and one of main the reasons for attending). What I really want to talk about, though, is how much the Salon itself contributed to the whole experience.

The Salon is a "small" room with no fixed seating. It's long and thin but has a very high ceiling. The piano was against one of the long walls and the chairs were arranged in a U shape around the other three sides. Arriving early, it was easy to secure a front row seat (but there were only 3 rows anyway!). Most people opted for the "finger view" (I always prefer to see the pianists face). As a veteran of many small concerts in churches and chapels, larger venues usually scare me away, and I was delighted to be in this beautiful small room in a major performance venue.

So, the performers were only a matter of a few feet away. This was wonderful for the audience. It must also be quite interesting for the performers, rather exposed, but also very real and intimate. This made for a relaxed feeling which seemed a little at odds with the standard applause, bowing and curtain call procedures of a larger concert hall. Indeed, Benjamin Martin did try hard to keep the program moving (though the appreciative audience really did want to give him a lot of applause!) and he left only very short gaps between movements. Though he didn't seem taxed by the intense repertoire, he did feel the need to abandon the second last piece, his own arrangement of a string quartet by Riley. I had been enjoying this work and, far from feeling cheated out of hearing it, I felt concerned that the pianist hadn't managed to have a short break in this program earlier.

The composers were familiar but the pieces played, apart from some of the Ravel (in which Benjamin Martin achieved an incredible pianissimo), were unknown to me. It was wonderful to be able to hear this "more modern" piano music. The thing I loved most was being able to see, close-up, the way the musicians engaged with the music, particularly in the ensemble piece.  Benjamin Martin's composition seemed to reflect all the music which had been played before it, and yet remained fresh and interesting, and the players engaged intensely with the piece and each other.

We were told this would be a roughly one hour concert without interval. With an extra piece at the start (Chopin), a shortened version of one programmed piece (Riley), and one encore (Barber), I think it was more like an hour and a quarter. The ticket prices were roughly half that for a standard Recital Centre ticket. Interestingly,  there were more younger people in the audience than I'm used to seeing at classical concerts ...was this due to the modern program, the ticket price, the earlier performance time, the more informal venue?

I found this style of concert, unusual repertoire, earlier time, and smaller venue very successful. Performance venues should be being used, performers should be performing...if this type of concert can continue, if performers can stage viable small scale concerts which don't flounder for want of a large audience, it will be a good thing for classical music and those who love it. I'd also be happy to hear a whole concert of this unusual ensemble. Violas and double basses in the hands of musicians such as these deserve to heard more often.

Melbourne, circa 1957