A Centennial Story of the Chinese Fiddle

 

Pilgrim Uniting Church, Sun 3 Mar.

That different cultures across the world have found their own solutions to life’s matters is a fascinating aspect of humanity. Cultures develop distinct ways of dressing, different foods, types of housing, and music. The sitar is the unmistakable sound of India; the Middle East gave us the oud. When you hear that haunting melancholy tone of the erhu you recognise it immediately as Chinese. The erhu is a two-stringed bowed instrument that has a small sound box at its base that is covered with python skin. And according to Wikipedia “its characteristic sound is produced through the vibration of the python skin by bowing.”

Silk Strings are an Adelaide based group of Chinese musicians whose mission is in part to make the music known as huquin more accessible.  The erhu, or Chinese fiddle – its central instrument – has been around for centuries. A Centennial Story of the Chinese Fiddle is designed to showcase the music of the erhu from the last one hundred years.

The program delivered nine pieces in chronological order as either solo pieces, or duets with erhu and piano in the beautiful Pilgrim Uniting Church. There’s something delicious about hearing traditional Chinese music in a Christian church. The atmosphere and acoustics are perfect for this kind of performance.

The earliest piece was from 1928, and like so much of Chinese nomenclature, it has one of those poetic titles intended to impart a lesson before a note is played – Birds Singing in a Desolate Mountain. A gorgeous folk song from China’s north-east was entitled The Crescent Moon at Three in the Morning. Galloping Battle Steeds sounded as it suggests. The sounds of galloping horses is a recurring motif in music from northern China and Mongolia, and is mimicked by interesting bowing techniques.

The final three pieces were more recent arrangements for erhu and piano involving some quite intense collaboration. One was an interpretation of a gypsy tune by a Spanish composer. The final two pieces in a more modern vein had the erhu sounding more like a violin, and therefore less Chinese.

It’s understandable that musicians would want to stretch themselves and branch out into fusion or more modern forms of their genre, but it may be at the cost of losing that distinctive sound that made older forms of the genre instantly recognisable, and perhaps revered.

Beautiful music exquisitely played in a near perfect setting.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

Tom Waits for No One - Review

 

The Garage International @ Adelaide Town Hall, Sat 5 Mar.

Tom Waits’ trademarks were a rasping vocal style from somewhere deep down in the bowels of the soul, semi-spoken rambling narratives put to music detailing the life of the down and out, a close to the edge desperation that you felt could break at any moment, and an uncanny ability to cram these earthy guttural outpourings into an exquisite melody. On top of that every sinew in his body would ooze emotion in an artistry that was mesmerising. So any attempt to cover Tom Waits songs is a huge gamble!

Wisely Stewart D’Arrietta doesn’t try to be Tom Waits although he does a little character acting in the patter and jokes between songs. D’Arrietta on piano, supported by double bass and drums, did a fine job of presenting material from the Waits catalogue and got better and better as he went. Singing in any way that approximates Waits’ growling vocal style can’t be good for you and it was as if he needed to warm up before he felt totally comfortable.  He worked his way through many classics – the autobiographical Kentucky Avenue, the poignant Christmas Card From A Hooker In Minneapolis, the beautifully tender Martha, the rocky Goin’ Out West, and what he flagged as one of the best songs ever written, An Invitation To The Blues.

D’Arrietta broke character before the final song to take a pot shot at political correctness and mourn the passing of Shane Warne and offered up the gut-wrenching Waits version of Waltzing Matilda as a tribute to a larrikin. It was a sad, beautiful final few moments that was totally appropriate. You see Tom Waits could do that – he could break your heart as you listened, and Stewart D’Arietta took us out in that same fine tradition.

(This review also published in The Clothesline.)

Venus in Fur by David Ives - Review

The Arch at Holden Street Theatres, Fri 4 Mar.

She’s late for the audition. The writer/director is leaving. She insists on auditioning. He tries to leave. She changes into period costume for ’18-whatever’ and becomes the character she is auditioning for. He can’t leave now. And he may never leave. The die is cast. The show has begun. She is perfect for the part… except she doesn’t seem to understand the play. She keeps wanting to subvert it and analyse all these hidden issues which he says are not relevant. He says they’re not there. She says they are.

They argue, dance and parry as they work their way through the script. She thinks he, the writer/director, should be in the play. He resists. Initially. Both are issuing instructions to the other. The sexual tension is palpable. Lines start blurring between the personal and professional as the emotional stakes get higher with each new scene.

VENUS IN FUR was the title of a novel from the 19^th Century that gave rise to the term masochism and is a constant theme throughout the play. But who is to dominate who?

This adaptation for the stage by David Ives is powerful and provocative. Wil King and Bridget Gao-Hollitt are simply magnificent as they tease and taunt each other. Gao-Hollitt’s ability in particular to step in and out of character from the present day to the nineteenth century and back is just so impressive; it’s really quite remarkable. Wil King’s portrayal of a director gradually losing control over his script (and perhaps his life) is also beautifully played.

Engaging writing with multiple layers of complex issues to digest, and totally compelling performances from two seasoned actors combine to create this gripping piece of theatre.

4.5 stars

(This review also published in The Clothesline.)