Emilie Hope
It takes me a while to settle in and notice the stage has a pretty simple set up. Music stands in a semi circle facing the audience, a table upstage with some didgeridoos laid out, a platform box for the cellist, and a red velvet curtain in behind it all covering the other seats which surround the MFC stage. It’s a modest turn out for an evening of less than ideal weather deciding to pack it in, mostly of people within the retirement bracket and a smattering of young families in attendance.
Due to my flustered state, when we hear the didgeridoo begin to call us into the world of the Barton & Brodsky show, my first thought is that it’s recorded. I’m instantly crestfallen and don’t think I’ll be able to handle another strings night without the help of a unique instrument like a didgeridoo to balance it out. Strings then follow, in a call and response, and when William Barton walks on stage playing the didgeridoo, all is forgiven and I am fully engaged. It is so appropriate to have the aboriginal instrument set the tone (literally) of this show, before the introduction of the Western music. It reminds my friend “of an Acknowledgement of Country or a karakia, settling the space with this ‘voice’ before the kaupapa begins.”
The band of the Brodsky Quartet have been performing for 50 years, and although only two members have remained since it’s inception, it’s clear these music nerds have a shared comfort with each other on stage and the musical chops to match. We have Kaysia Osostowicz on violin I, Ian Belton on violin II, Paul Cassidy on viola, and Jacqueline Thomas on cello. In Barton & Brodsky, there are some songs which are purely strings, and others (mostly written by Australian composers) which incorporate the didgeridoo. Due to the quartet’s sheer passion for music and commitment to their performance, the strings songs are interesting, certainly more distinguishable from my Bach experience. The team take time to talk about their tour or giving some context to the songs they are about to play. This seriously does help, especially for those who rushed to the MFC and didn’t see or grab a programme on the way through. They speak dearly of some of the Australian composers whose work they are performing, referring to them as “friends”—and you can absolutely feel the love and respect they have for one another and this does shine through in their performance. Having contemporary Australian composers in the show seems appropriate to reflect the blending between the composers’ love of Australia within a Western medium.
One special song I will mention is Tōrino—Echoes on Pūtōrino Improvisations by Rob Thorne, composed by Wellington’s own Salina Fisher. A lot of the music of this piece sits in between notes, which is difficult for classically trained string players to do, but they nail it. There were moments when they made string instruments sound like a trumpet, other times they sounded more like a flute, and Thomas manages to make a seagull call sound on the cello (which does feature in other songs too) - don’t as me how they did it, I have no idea. Musical witchcraft? This is a truly bewitching piece which the quartet masterfully play. Keep an eye out for more by this composer! The songs, however, with the didgeridoo are the clear standouts for me.
The didgeridoo is a seriously underestimated and uncommon to hear in chamber music. The chances of someone living in Aotearoa New Zealand to hear one is even slimmer. This is one of the reasons for my excitement to see this show. And I am not disappointed; if anything, I am invigorated. The low rumblings of this instrument is truly a gift from a divine being and in the expert hands of Barton, it speaks to a deeper part of our body. The beauty of this instrument is it’s ability to jump between pitches, from low tones to higher pitched overtones seamlessly. My friend says “I find these jumping tones tones to be reminiscent of a kookaburra call.” The didgeridoos on the table are carefully brought out for specific songs. We see shorter ones, longer ones, and a beautifully decorated and ornate one, the sound of which deliciously rumbles in your bones. Barton also uses the didgeridoo to carry a breath sound, which, as my friend reminds me, is “used to signal the end of a section or piece several times. It felt like the breath out that released any and all tension built up in the music.” It’s a wonderful instrument, I’m a big fan.
Barton is Australia’s leading didgeridoo player, composer, instrumentalist, and vocalist. He is so obviously skillful with this instrument that in one song, he uses it as a percussion instrument as well as a wind instrument. The closing song is one he has composed called Square Circles Beneath the Red Desert Sand. It begins with Barton calling to the stage from the audience as he slowly walks through. This reminds me of the kaikaranga calling at a pōwhiri, where guests are welcomed to the marae, but here it’s the opposite: Barton is calling and making his way to the stage, claiming his spot with the other classically trained musicians from the UK. There is something poetic and deeply moving about this piece. Barton’s voice has a Nina Simone-like trill to it; yet it’s also entirely unique and clear. Once on stage, the quartet join him in playing their instruments, and interestingly, they feel the most unified they have been all night. It’s a powerful way to close the show. Plenty of the audience give the performers a standing ovation.
I wish for more Barton in this show. And that they advertise a more accurate run time of 2 hours and 15 minutes including intermission. This is a transformative night which has me buzzing into the rest of my evening.
Find out more about William Barton by visiting his website. Find out more about the Brodsky Quartet by visiting their website.