KEY POINTS:
What: Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra
Where and when: Auckland Town Hall, tomorrow at 8pm
The Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra joins the illustrious company of the London Symphony, the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Sydney Symphony Orchestra tomorrow night to host composer Brett Dean playing his own Viola Concerto.
Three orchestras
were a practicality, says the 46-year-old Melbourne-based composer. "It gives the piece several airings and the chance to find itself in the repertoire."
Dean returned home in 2000 after 15 years playing viola in the Berlin Philharmonic. "The place had changed greatly since I left in 1984," he says. "There was a definite forum for composers and standards of orchestral playing had risen dramatically."
Asked whether the Australian musical character can be as elusive as that of New Zealand, he says: "Any place that's as isolated as Australia or New Zealand will have some kind of view of itself and its place in the world, but I don't feel there is anything specifically Australian about my music, even if Europeans tend to see in it something of the wide expanses or the colours or something."
He mentions his earlier Pastoral Symphony, which deals with the issue of land clearance, and the string quartet Eclipse, inspired by the refugee and boat-people phenomenon. "Whether the music sounds specifically Australian I don't know. There may be things that filter through."
The Viola Concerto, which Dean premiered with the LSO in 2005, is a major contribution to the instrument's repertoire. The composer's programme notes evoke the image of the viola as "a harried, lonely figure fighting against the latent strength of the orchestra".
"It's about one person taking on many," Dean says. "In fact, my first piece of concerto writing was Ariel's Music, dedicated to the memory of the American Aids campaigner, Elizabeth Glaser. It was inspired by her struggle, with the orchestra taking on the role of the Reagan Administration."
While the Viola Concerto has no overt political intent, it is extraordinarily vivid and colouristic. My attention is caught by the birdcalls in the piece and bubblings that hint at Indonesian gamelan.
"I love percussion writing," Dean enthuses. "With percussion there are all sorts of possibilities. You can reinvent sound and conjure all sorts of other colours."
When I bring up the matter of soaring string lines, Dean says, "There is a kind of romantic streak in me. I grew up with classical music and I played in this great traditional orchestra for such a long time it leaves its mark.
"I remember saying to the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra when they were struggling with my piece Beggars and Angels: 'At the end of the day I'm a romantic old fart and it should be played like music.'
"It's part of that vernacular. I like music that engages the heart, the mind and the stomach in equal portions."
Above all, there's an openness in this man that is immensely appealing. No music is excluded as a possible influence and, in the concerto's second movement, he suggests that you might imagine Hindemith playing in Tom Waits' band.
"My daughter had given me the latest Tom Waits album, Real Gone, and there were a couple of tracks that caught my ear. I love his grungy dirty instrumentals in particular and there was one rhythmic riff that cracked its way into the piece somehow."
