Is there such a thing as an Australian Piano Concerto?, asks Dennis Hennig, one of the pianists featured in this anthology. Here are three attempts to provide an answer. In his three-movement concerto, Ross Edwards (born 1943) casts a sweet lyricism close to film music esthetics between two boisterous outer movements. His solid, unpretentious writing makes for pleasant listening. The performers are as playful and energetic as this radiant and uncomplicated score requires. Malcolm Williamson (born 1931) approaches the concerto form with a more serious demeanor. His dark and percussive Concerto for Two Pianos and Strings abounds in Bartókian reminiscences, spiced up in the harmony by discreet hints of early Messiaen. Rhythmically very active, the piece testifies to the composer’s secure hand in a mildly modern idiom. Here again, the performance (with the composer himself at the first piano) is first rate. Though attractive and well crafted, neither of these two works seems to have anything peculiarly “Australian” to propose, and we find ourselves no closer to an answer to Hennig’s question.
Peter Sculthorpe’s Piano Concerto is a different thing altogether, mixing a very personal language with descriptive elements that echo the majesty of Australian landscapes. In one continuous movement, it unfolds like some powerful stream or river, in its wake attracting moments of primitive violence and ecstatic contemplation. The last three minutes, where long, sinuous melodic lines from the strings envelop the repetitive figures of the piano, reach uncommon levels of hallucinatory beauty. Despite a certain lack of refinement, pianist Anthony Fogg, the Melbourne Symphony, and conductor Myer Fredman uncover the cosmic dimension and rhythmic life of this mystical concerto. It’s a work well worth the trouble of ordering the CD from Australia… [8/16/2000]
