Showing posts with label Sally Whitwell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sally Whitwell. Show all posts

Wednesday, 16 May 2018

Belated Synthesis Review - Sydney Opera House February 13, 2018

This review is very late, mostly because of an interstate move following hard on the heels of the concert, but also, as I discovered while writing it, sometimes it's hard to find the words to describe an amazing experience.




Rock bands teaming up with orchestras is nothing new. Even The Wiggles have done it, and I note Eskimo Joe is doing it later this year with the TSO, my new state orchestra. However, Evanescence has done something a bit different. Synthesis isn't a one-time collaboration with one orchestra, it is a Herculean tour where the band liaises with a new orchestra in every city it goes to. The organisers, and touring conductor Susie Seiter, probably deserve some sort of medal.

It's also more personal than the usual, ‘won't this sound good’ team-up. Amy Lee has revisited many of the band's songs and synthesised them with orchestral arrangements. The name of the album is more than apt, it is a literal description of itself. Old material in new ways, and new material with the old. That Lee was up for the challenge was evident; Evanescence has included string sections and choirs since its first album, and she has composed music for film in collaboration with Dave Eggar, who I'll talk more about in a moment.

Of course, every rock concert has a support act, and in this case its the respective orchestra, so before discussing Evanescence’s set I'll mention this. It was a smaller version of the SSO, with the addition of Sally Whitwell on piano and Dave Eggar on cello, and it was great to see them all having so much fun. The set opened with a little night music of Mozart’s, followed by some Moonlight by Beethoven. The latter was performed admirably by Sally Whitwell, with the orchestra, an unusual and novel treat for this most famous of piano sonatas. The arrangement was by Georgi Cherkin, a Bulgarian concert pianist I'll have to investigate further. It was also interesting to hear a version of Verdi’s Lacrymosa, from his Requiem, without a choir. The Lacrymosa is a clear influence on Amy Lee who references it in the front of her song of the same name. Indeed, the entire opening set was music Lee has mentioned as having an influence on her work, which added another personal dimension to the concert. The set concluded with Dave Eggar’s Rockstar cello performance of Bach in Black, which was as fun to watch as to listen too.

Once Lee walked onto the stage, in a stunning green gown, it was clear she had the presence to own the entire concert hall, but she never claimed it. This was a collaboration and her very demeanour allowed for the band and orchestra to share her spotlight. But when she sings, it’s a tricky thing not to be enamoured. Evanescence’s first album helped me through some dark times, and songs like Lithium from their second album did too. Part of the reason for that is the emotional integrity behind the music; Lee doesn’t sing of pain from some abstract idea or a desire to sound emo to be popular as a musician. Nor does her music whinge like some popular balladists seem to do these days. Her music is that of her soul, the pain is real, but she isn’t complaining, merely singing through the darkness, often finding light through the music. Hearing that, with orchestra, in person, was an experience I find difficult to describe. Perhaps that is why this review has taken so long to be written. And perhaps that’s why I have little more to say. In that concert hall with hundreds of other people, Amy Lee sang my darkness, and called to my light. Sounds ridiculous written like that, but it was a personal experience I can’t describe any other way.

To finish I’ll mention one other thing. It was great to see in this huge, rock meets classical event, three strong women in the key positions on the stage. Amy Lee, of course, Susie Seiter conducting the whole affair with aplomb, and Sally Whitwell, first as soloist in the orchestra’s set then playing piano in places where Lee usually does herself in performances without orchestra.

If a chance comes by to go to Synthesis, go – I realise that’s not likely any more. Give the album a whirl though. And go to live music events, there really is a difference to hearing recorded stuff. And keep exploring.

Friday, 25 January 2013

Australia Day

To celebrate Australia Day I thought I'd just collect some links to some of my favourite pieces by Australian composers. Not a comprehensive list but a start and a celebration anyway.

First off the bat is of course part of Nigel Westlake's Antarctica Suite - the Penguin Ballet. I really love the whole suite and the whole penguin thing just speaks to me cause I'm that kind of a guy.

I did want the second piece to be at least part of Graeme Koehner's Selfish Giant ballet but I couldn't find a link (I confess to being a bit lazy and not scouring for one, I'll do that anon). Instead here is his piece To His Servant Bach God Grants a Final Glimpse. This is a beautiful swoon worthy piece with lilting strings under a singing violin. Or is the violin punctuating the strings? Not really but they work together very well.

Thirdly, Peter Sculthorpe's charming Left Bank Waltz. It was the first of his I knew and for a time the only piece of his I liked. My tastes have broadened since but this little gem is still probably my favourite of his. The version here is quite astounding, you have to ignore the constant sound of flash charging and photo taking, but just check out how old this pianist is.

I have to include Ross Edwards' Violin Concerto 'Maninyas'. My introduction to this was Swoon III, a short excerpt that is one of my favourite swoons. When I heard the rest of the concerto for the first time I was actually a bit taken aback and unimpressed but as with Sculthorpe my tastes have broadened and I do enjoy the whole work. This is the triumphant third movement, hearing it now I can't think why I didn't like this initially.

For the fifth and final piece I would have loved to share Sally Whitwell's Concerto for Toy Piano - partly so I could hear it myself - but as with the Selfish Giant, no dice. Here instead is The Insomnia Waltz for piano and violin.

Let's remember the talent in this country and enjoy what artists of all kinds have to offer. Happy Australia Day.