With the premiere of Tides only a few weeks away I find myself reflecting on this program of dance and music, inspired by the crashing of the waves, and asking myself what is it that is really inspiring me at the moment.
I am composing a number of new pieces for this performance, all with a tidal theme. Aside from the easy to draw upon seaside inspirations (waves, rockpools, crash of the waves etc), the idea of tides is one that really hits close to home when we talk about the cultural tidal wave we’re experiencing at the moment, made even more potent with the election looming this week. Culture, which has had to face one of its greatest existential crisis with the lockdowns in recent years, is in a real tidal rip at the moment. One minute you have the chance to stage work, the next you don’t. Announcements are made that flirt with the opportunity to present a larger work, or tour and then you get sick, or someone around you gets sick. It’s a dangerous tidal journey if ever I’ve heard one! In amongst that are culture wars, impassioned political cries sometimes inauthentic and cheap, and a sense of being overwhelmed with the sheer quantity of art available to us. For this last idea, I don’t just mean the idea that we’re now living even more online lives than we did pre-pandemic, and that we’re so saturated with art, but also the fact that life in Melbourne seems to be completely bonkers at the moment. Gigs left right and centre, new work popping up everywhere, and everyone both excited, scared, and exhausted with how much activity is going on, swelling around them.
This push and pull is at play in the pieces I am writing for this program. They are watery, mellifluous and sea-like, but also tense, terse, and climatic. Some works are for the full band (clarinet, doubling on cor anglais and bass clarinet, cello, trombone, and percussion, consisting of vibraphone, bass drum and glockenspiel) and some are solo pieces, or solos weaved into each other. The breath of sea air in the Monteverdi and Haydn will be a great tonic from my more intense pieces. However, I am particularly proud of a new little duet for clarinet and cello called Shore which is a real mournful and beautiful little melody - something I don’t always find myself writing.
This makes me think of another tide at play - that in the personal conflict between music the world wants, music I want and music the projects needs. These three elements are always competing when I am crafting a work. I am always aware of the audiences response - either positive or negative. I actually enjoy crafting musical odd-ness. There are times I want things to be a bit weird, awkward or surprising. But I am also keenly aware of the experience, and that I don’t mind subjecting audiences to something brash, bold, new and odd but also providing them with respite, beauty, simplicity and joy, musically.
Then of course there is what the project needs, and often that is something altogether different. For this project that was speed - it’s a short rehearsal time, and the show had to be written exceptionally short as we reprogrammed it at such a short notice, due to situations out of our control. This meant I had to create something that satisfied the above desires for myself, the audience but also what is simply achievable in that time for these wonderful musicians. This has meant I’ve crafted works that are structurally very clear and direct, not too virtuosic or demanding, but hopefully still enough of a challenge to pique the musician’s interest.
I am also very interested to see what people think of the arrangements I’ve made of the Bjork songs. They are of course bastions of Avant guard pop, and fit brilliantly in this program, and are a real highlight. Forest has always been a champion of pop music that is out of the ordinary, and really Bjork is best known for this. Her sumptuous melodies and evocative, if not angular lyrics should be a delight for you to experience. I am also singing these songs, along with an aria by Haydn, my first public performance as a solo singer in over 10 years.
The final point of inspiration I’d like to make reference to is my amazing partner Jesse, who will dance and choreograph this work. It is a real joy to collaborate with him for the first time, and I have loved seeing how we work together and taking his ideas and musical references on board to create a work for us all to be inspired by and enjoy.
The works I have written for Tides are; two electronic preludes Wave and Beach; Swell and Rockpool which will be works for the full quartet, the latter with electronics; Shore a duet for clarinet and cello; and Birdcall which is a series of solo pieces, with drone accompaniment.
Tides plays for 3 performances only 3-5 June at Abbotsford Convent.