Reclusive composer finds poetry in the machine

By WILLIAM DART

For some, Douglas Lilburn's retreat into the electronic studio is one of the iconic statements of New Zealand music - the frustrated composer determined to take his fate and his music into his own hands.

And for years, the fruits of Lilburn's studio isolation have been frustratingly unavailable, apart from a few works crackling away on 70s and 80s vinyl.

Now, there is reason for rejoicing, with the new four-disc set, Douglas Lilburn: Electro-acoustic works, one of the bravest releases yet on Wayne Laird's Atoll label.

Atoll has always balanced the contemporary and historical, but Laird is vehement that these Lilburn pieces are "not for one instant historical, because we are still catching up".

He proudly points out that they have retrieved the very first New Zealand electro-acoustic work, a rarity titled Sings Harry, in which Lilburn speaks some Denis Glover lines.

"Even people who knew Douglas pretty well weren't aware of its existence," says Laird, "and it seems so fresh."

The booklets, graced by a bold, even cheeky Douglas McDiarmid painting of 50s beach boys, hint at the sonic delights inside.

Laird, who finds that electro-acoustic composers "can tend to be po-faced", describes Lilburn's music as "very bright and good-humoured, because his work uses very little in the way of low frequencies".

For playfulness one could sample Lilburn's one-minute doodle on God Save the Queen, but there are also some remarkable premonitions of what today's electronica brigade are doing.

"There's a long bit in the middle of Lines and Distance which was recorded in the Wellington Telephone Exchange, and Lilburn seems to have treated it with deliberately funky, rocky rhythms," explains Laird. "In the short Ciamaga pieces his model could have been rock'n'roll guitar."

Two composers have been involved with this project: Jack Body, who co-produced the discs, and Ross Harris, whose fascinating notes explain some of the extraordinary sounds.

Harris points out how Lilburn extracted poetry from machines that, for lesser practitioners, spawned "barely controlled, cliched gurglings".

As Laird puts it, "Lilburn wouldn't even unpack the machines until he had completely familiarised himself with the manual, which meant that these works showed external thought rather than just experimentation with sound."

The poetic spirit is triumphant in the late soundscapes of Winterset and Soundscape with Lake and River, as well as the earlier The Return. This last work, realised in 1965, blends an Alistair Campbell poem with an electronic soundscape that includes Maori voices and swirling textures created by a mixture of field recordings, adapted instrumental sounds and such ingenious DIY touches as wrapping cellophane around the tape recorder drives. Its beauty is timeless.

We also hear Lilburn caught in the political turmoil of the Vietnam War era with his shattering Poem in Time of War of 1967.

Laird feels that Lilburn "would not have undertaken such political commentary in a work that needed to be publicly performed. This is a more private and intimate medium - you can do what you want in it".

Taking a lead from the rock world, Laird added a ghost track on the third CD and there are bonuses galore on the fourth DVD disc, including the only three times the camera was ever pointed at Lilburn.

The composer remembers his friend Rita Angus, pays tribute to his teacher Vaughan Williams and does a demo in Victoria University's electronic studios, dressed, as the approving Laird describes him, "in a white shirt and tie, a most immaculately presented bloke".

With Naxos having taken Lilburn's three symphonies out to the wider world, it would be cheering to think that this Atoll set may sit on shelves alongside the Sargesons, Steads, Glovers and Mansfields.

Such is its stature. Here is a cultural treasure with the power to speak to those who stir to Lilburn's Aotearoa overture and yet quite possibly communicate with followers of SJD, Phelps & Munro or Sola Rosa. A rare achievement.

* Douglas Lilburn: Electro-acoustic Works (Atoll ACD 404)