Tasmania's Ten Days on the Island Festival Packs in the Music by Sandra Bowdler

Tasmania's Ten Days on the Island Festival Packs In the Music By Sandra Bowdler

Medieval Sicilian dances, Bach violin sonatas and John Field's nocturnes on a fortepiano all in the space of 24 hours.

TEN DAYS ON THE ISLAND 28 March–6 April 2003 various locations in Tasmania

Tasmanians love a good protest, and perhaps nothing has ensured the success of the second biennial Ten Days on the Island festival more than a controversy about trees. One of the festival's sponsors is the state government agency Forestry Tasmania, considered by many of the Apple Isle's large band of Green Party supporters to be insufficiently protective of its designated responsibility. Some of these people have elected to boycott the festival entirely; others have taken the opportunity to participate in anti-Forestry demonstrations, then attend the events of their choice; still others feel that the trees are OK and there are more important environmental issues to worry about. Some members of the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra even chose to wear green ribbons for their "Antarctica" concert. Indeed, while Ten Days artistic director Robyn Archer says, "Protests? What protests?", some people seem to think it is all part of the official festival, an impression fostered by demonstrators appearing on TV with signs reading "Ten Days on the Island: say NO to old- growth logging." There has also been an observation from the Tasmanian Aboriginal Centre that the festival has insufficiently acknowledged the indigenous owners of the land. So there has been plenty to keep Ten Days in the public eye, quite apart from its wide range of interesting programs spread across the state. As was the case in 2001, the theme is islands: performers came from Tasmania or other islands —Réunion, Sicily, Aotearoa (the festival makes a point of using the Maori name for New Zealand), Guadaloupe, not to mention the exotic isles of Montreal and Manhattan — or islands were particularly featured in their work. Classical music events were largely concentrated in Hobart, the state capital, and included a brand new opera, a brand new opera company, and the Australian premiere of a major orchestral work. But there were a few events in other locales — for instance, Evandale, a small country town notable mostly for penny-farthing bicycle races accompanied by Morris dancing. (No, I'm not making this up.) It hosted two classical concerts, each performed twice (simultaneously) on the one day, so one could attend both and have lunch at the pub with live jazz in between.

Peter Tanfield (violin)

Saturday 5 April 2003 St. Andrew's Uniting Church, Evandale, Tasmania

Bach: Sonata No. 1 for unaccompanied violin in G minor, BWV 1001 Partita No. 2 for unaccompanied violin in D minor, BWV 1004

Peter Tanfield is English originally, but now makes his home in Tasmania; he has performed around the globe and was for a time first violinist of the Australian String Quartet. It would appear from his biography that he is most at home in the Romantic repertoire; certainly that is the sensibility he brought to this performance. Looking comfortable in up-market oriental pajamas, he played this pair of challenging works without a score. (The first was marred somewhat by a strange clumping noise, which turned out to be a photographer dashing about the church taking pictures.) Both were performed with a high level of technical virtuosity and clean execution of the intricate writing, particularly in the Allemande of the Partita No. 2. Tanfield took some movements, notably the Siciliana of the Sonata No. 1, far more slowly than one is used to these days. This was overall a very Romantic approach to Bach, with a level of vibrato a world away from the likes of Andrew Manze. Indeed, I sometimes felt the need to check the program to make sure the composer's name was spelled with an "a" and not an "ru."

"Music from the Faeroes"

Martin Pollard (fortepiano)

Saturday 5 April 2003 Clarendon Homestead, Evandale, Tasmania

Field: Nocturne No. 5 in B-flat major Nocturne No. 1 in D minor Nocturne No. 2 in E-flat major Nocturne No. 4 in C minor Sveinbjørnsson: Idylle (Icelandic Romance) Vikivaki (Icelandic Dance) Rachmaninoff: Mélodie No. 3 in E major Pollard: Rhapsody No. 2 in G-sharp minor Rhapsody No. 3 in A-flat major ("My Faeroes") Enya (arr. Pollard): Rhapsody on two Irish melodies

"Music from the Faeroes" was a misleading title for this program, as the composers featured — apart from Pollard himself, an Englishman who now lives on those tiny remote islands — come from Iceland (Sveinbjørn Sveinbjørnsson, 1847–1927), Ireland (John Field, 1782–1837, inventor of the nocturne, and Enya, the New Age singer) and Russia (Sergei Rachmaninoff). The venue, Clarendon House, is one of those venerable Georgian mansions maintained by the National Trust that Tasmania (or at least its tourists) delights in. The recital took place in a restored room redolent of the early 19th century, on a restored 19th-century Broadwood fortepiano. With this program there was no reason not to let out the Romantic throttle, and the nocturnes of John Field sounded particularly well in these surroundings. The Sveinbjørnsson pieces were rather jolly — no doubt Iceland is a place where you would want to keep your spirits up. Predictably, the Enya songs sounded like a cross between the Lord of the Rings soundtrack and particularly florid Chopin. Amidst all these, the Rachmaninoff sounded particularly weighty, and Pollard confessed at the end that it was there only because the Russian is his favorite composer. Pollard's own pieces made an interesting contrast. The first was written in 1987, when he first arrived in the Faeroes and was having difficulty adjusting to the bleak environment; it is melancholic but also rather conventional. The second rhapsody was written as he came to love the place (1988), as the subtitle might suggest; it is a less traditional and more descriptive work, conjuring up the alternating moods of the wild landscape with sweeping arpeggios and changes of atmosphere. The fortepiano sounded unexpectedly loud in these relatively intimate surroundings, and Pollard avoided the somewhat tinkly sound the instrument can sometimes have, though the Rachmaninoff pieces suffered a little from its truncated range and palette. This was a varied and interesting program, delivered with great charm and enthusiasm.

"Abballati, abballati!"

Al Qantarah

Friday 4 April 2003 St David's Cathedral, Hobart

Peire Cardinal-Giacomo da Lentini (13th cent.): Ben m'è venuto Anon. (12th cent.): Resonet intonet Trad. Sicilian: Canto di carnevale/assummata di lu corpu di la tonnara/Vicariota Trad. Sicilian: Montedoro Anon. (12th cent.): Natali regis glorie Anon. (12th cent.)/Trad. Sicilian: Exultantes et letantes/Ballettu Anon. (12th cent.): Congaudentes jubilemus Trad. Persian/ Trad. Sicilian: Parandoush/Chiovu "Abballati" Trad. Sicilian: Richiami Anon. (12th cent.): In hoc anni circulo Trad. Sicilian: Tarantella per marranzanu Trad. Sicilian: Sugnu vinutu di luntana via Trad. Sicilian: A la viddanisca Anon. (12th cent.): Benedicamus domino Anon. (12th cent.): Eia fratres personemus

The performers who comprise Al Qantarah are also scholars, dedicated to research into the medieval music of Sicily and its relationship to that island's continuing folk musical traditions, which encompass Arabic as well as Latin influences. This may sound like a rather academic exercise, but the group's performance in Hobart the evening before the Evandale concerts was full of vigor and musical fireworks. These five men were obviously feeling the cold: amongst the array of exotic instruments around their podium was a small electric heater, and the main singer (Roberto Bolleli, a dead ringer for Danny di Vito) in particular needed time to warm up. He at first sounded rather thin and uncomfortable, but as the evening progressed his voice took on a fuller, somewhat nasal resonance which fit the music perfectly. Apart from one named composer, the program was made up of works by Anon. and Trad.: the former referred to pieces from the 12th or 13th centuries, the latter to songs still performed in Sicily. One of the aims of the program was to show the connection of one to the other. The difference was clear, in that the older works were obviously performed come scritto while the traditional music allowed a level of improvisation, but as the program progressed the affect of the two sources tended to merge. The opening song, for voice, 'ud (Arabic lute), zarb (drum) and tambourine, was somewhat dirge-like; the second piece, for pipe and tabor, marranzanu (jew's harp) and scattagnetti (castanets) was a little livelier; with the third, the concert really began to take off. This medley of traditional works featured what might be termed a cadenza for duelling tambourines, showing just how far from the Salvation Army that humble instrument can get. Subsequent pieces utilized a symphonia (hurdy-gurdy) and ciaramedda, a species of bagpipes made from a whole sheep. Various combinations of the several instruments were displayed, with and without voice; several of the works called for vocal harmony in two, three or four parts, sometimes a cappella. One particularly lovely Tarantella featured an amazingly well projected solo marranzanu . The entire program was a delight, and was most warmly received by the capacity audience.