- The Lumière Reader is an online film and arts journal produced by a collective of New Zealand critics and writers. Since February 2010, we have published from this new website. A complete archive of features and reviews, dating back to 2003, is accessible at lumiere.net.nz/reader.
Current Contributors
Andy Palmer
Brannavan Gnanalingam
Tim Wong
Steve Garden
Jacob Powell
Christine Linnell
Samuel Holloway
Louise Wallace
Rachael Morgan
Nina Fowler
Alexander Bisley
At a Glance
- APO, NZSO
- Poetry
- New Zealand Cinema
- New Zealand International Arts Festival
- New Zealand International Film Festival
- Years in Review
Editor’s Picks
- At the Auckland Writers & Readers Festival, Paul Gilding on The Great Disruption
- A Micronaut in the Wide World: The Imaginative Life and Times of Graham Percy
- An appreciation of Lee Chang-dong’s Oasis
- Black Swan: Another pompous, cocksure movie from the director of Requiem for a Dream.
- The Quiet Revolutionary: An Interview with The New Yorker’s Hendrik Hertzberg.
- Campaign for Censorship Reform.
From the Archives
- WOMAD: In Images [Apr 09]
- Edward Yang’s Taipei Stories [Dec 08]
- Smells Like Teen Spirit: Judd Apatow, Adam McKay & The Comedy of Arrested Development [Mar 08]
- The Elusive Junot Díaz [Jun 08]
- The Fearless Writer: Mayra Montero [Mar 08]
For his second concert (Kenneth Myers Centre, Auckland; November 18) as artistic director, Samuel Holloway (disclosure: also a regular contributor to The Lumière Reader) put together a programme with a strong local focus, continuing the group’s unfaltering support of New Zealand composers. The selected works, many incorporating electronics, highlighted the strength of the ensemble to skilfully undertake the many varied challenges contemporary music presents.
Under the accomplished guidance of conductor Hamish McKeich, the performers navigated with precision the complex writhing lines of Chris Watson’s Recrudesce, reconstructed from a previous work. In Holloway’s Incus, microtonal and rhythmic intricacies spun nimbly under the fingers. This is the third and final trio of the composer’s interesting Middle Ear series, and I am eagerly awaiting a performance of the complete set.
Drawing on composition techniques from the Middle Ages, Dylan Lardelli’s bas takes its title from the early classification of instruments with a subdued nature. Fittingly, the performers exhibited great control of tone colour, with a notably raw cello opening from Katherine Hebley.
Michael Williams provided live electronics for his piece, May My Shadow Never Depart. Light touches of delay and loops followed the weaving clarinet lines, augmenting without overpowering the space and pure simplicity inherent in the music. Written for 175 East clarinettists Gretchen La Roche and Andrew Uren, the work remains true to its central Buddhist idea, “joy follows a pure thought like a shadow that never leaves.”
The two solo works of the night featured electronics in a more equal role. In Ross Harris’s Fluchtig, flautist Ingrid Culliford deftly entwined fleeting multiphonics with a metallic and chime-like tape part. Chris Cree Brown’s Inner Bellow required La Roche to partially dismantle her clarinet, creating new microtonal scales and timbres.
Irish composer Jennifer Walshe’s he was she was provided a light-hearted break midway through the evening. Reading her programme note, I had anticipated a cacophony of “sounds not usually considered ‘beautiful’.” The piece was the opposite, blending a subtle tape part with snapping twigs, rustling paper and the striking of matches, held together with gently sustained instrumental parts. Never afraid to step outside the box, the performers diligently took on these extra tasks. A large component of the work also required the instrumentalists to speak. I find this is often dangerous territory and was perhaps taken a little too seriously here. A more indifferent approach may have better suited the understated humour of the text.
The evening concluded with the world premiere of Eve de Castro-Robinson’s Hale, an intimate reflection on life and death in response to her mother’s passing. De Castro-Robinson fused eclectic recordings including breathing, church bells, birdsong, and readings of her mother’s poetry, with delicate and uncluttered instrumental parts. Whisperings of “Dum spiro spero” (While I breathe I hope), and the musicians’ own breathing enriched the texture, while trombonist Tim Sutton introduced a brief and poignant melody unassumingly into the foreground. I would have liked more time to immerse myself in this striking sonic meditation.
Next year, 175 East are promising to feature some gems from the international repertoire and are hoping to also take the concerts outside of Auckland.
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