Following this concert I think the Vibraphone is my new favourite instrument. Think tubular bells mixed with a glass harp for the purest sound in an orchestra. As a tribute to Steve Reich who was influenced by Back to Coltrane and master of this instrument, the Ensemble Offspring offered a technically brilliant afternoon of sound. The self-effacing key speaker Claire Edwardes outlined the program and the ensemble’s history and love of Reich’s compositions and technical difficulty. She even wondered out loud why they had chosen some difficult pieces!
First up, Richard Cilli and Claire Edwardes strode on with metronomes and, accompanied by the amazing pianist Gabi Sultana, their body percussion and ballet melded sound, rhythm and the piano providing a surprising pulse. ‘Metronomes’, offered Reich’s classic phrasing of repeat, review and revise. The bodies moved in time matching the metronomes as they were out of sync and then in-sync as if they were a piece of separate music. It was compelling in its fluidity.
Richard then stepped forward and with fluid balletic dexterity presented a conversation with a silent partner as if the beat, piano and his movements were debating with another to get some response regardless. Gabi pushed the piano as if it were vibrating to the music whilst her fingers ran across the notes mastering the difficult phrasing.
Next we had the famous piece, Quartet from 2013, which featured two vibraphones and two pianos – just in case! The nimble dexterity and clarity of sound was beautiful and the pace was fast and furious. Lots of counter questions and answers between all four performers as they delved into the complex harmonies and difficult twists of hands and instruments to match the rhythm, fast, slow, fast and then faster. It was amazing to watch the ballet of fingers using the mallets as if playing four keyboards on one instrument and the precision of the timing was everything.
The finale of the whole ensemble added a bass guitar, flute, clarinet, violins, viola and cello which circled the pianos and vibraphones. Radio Rewire from 2012, is a piece not for the fainthearted. With shards of Radioheads’ Everything in Its Right Place and Jigsaw Falling Into Place, Reich offers a throwback to older composers using pre-existing music to weave in to their own variations on a theme. The piece moved back and forward in speed and finalised in a massive pure sound leaving the audience stunned by the sheer technical brilliance and the complex phrasing as variations were weaving around from each performer. The performance culminated in a cacophony of dynamic sound.
For a relaxing Sunday afternoon, being immersed in the sounds of film and gaming music scores performed by the Ku-ring-gai Philharmonic Orchestra (KPO) was perfection. The choice of songs was varied, from the widely known “Star Wars Suite” composed by the legendary John Williams to other songs that I was not familiar with, such as Jeremy Soule’s “Song of the Dragonborn”.
The KPO’s deliberate choice of song order was clever, which took the audience on an emotional musical journey with ups and downs like a wave. The KPO alternated playing intense songs, then moved next to a quieter song, then back to a powerful piece.
A standout song was the meditative beauty “Benjamin”, originally from the ABC/ International film and television series, “The Hymns of the Forefathers”. Listening to this song live was quite special, as we were fortunate to witness the composer conduct his own piece. The song “Benjamin” was named after his three year old son. KPO’s Artistic Director and Chief Conductor Paul Terracini used his baton, signalling tempo and guiding the orchestra in all of the song performances, except this one. Instead, it was beautiful to see the love and depth of feeling he had for his own piece. He did not use his baton, he conducted with his whole body and arms, swaying to the tempo, and it was mesmerising to watch.
Before each performance, Terracini introduced each song with some background information on each composer and some information on the song. The KPO’s first song was the “Star Wars Suite”, and from the very first opening note, the power and precision of the orchestra created an exciting start. The “Imperial March” was played with perfect precision, with the sharpness of the trumpets, bassoons, trombones and tuba intermingled with the frenetic violins and full orchestration to create the menacing Darth Vader theme. This Suite arrangement displayed an example of the alternating powerful and gentle song format, with sweet and regal “Princess Leia’s Theme” following the boisterous main theme. The different tempo and soft beauty of “Yoda’s Theme” with the harp, and the grandiosity of the “Throne Room and End Title” contrasted with each other and conjured up scenes from this classic movie into my mind.
The magic of the KPO’s music continued with “Spirited Away Suite”. Joe Hisaishi composed for Hayao Miyazaki’s animated films from Studio Ghibli. I had seen the 2001 anime “Spirited Away” a long time ago and did not remember the music, so it was with curiosity that I began to listen to this suite. The piano infused a gentle and curious beginning with “One Summer’s Day” and as this song progressed, it shone of innocent wonder. The harp plucking represented the moon to me, in “Night Time Coming”, with a lovely lullaby. This was followed by “The Gods”, which had a dramatic element, with the percussion leading the effects in some parts. This suite featured lovely solos by harpist Kaela Phillips and Concertmaster Violin Lead Anne Marie Braid. The effect of a solo, and then the orchestra joining in was effective in creating a musically flowing journey for the audience.
After the interval, the KPO performed the soundtracks and music from “Song of the Dragonborn”, “The Elden Ring 2022”, “Spartacus”, “Benjamin” and ended with “Fellowship of the Ring Suite”.
Japanese Composer Yuka Kitamura’s “Elden Ring 2022” theme was arranged by Jonathan Shaw and was a very strong and powerful piece. Beginning gently, the quick metamorphosis into a highly dramatic theme, with the brass, wind instruments, violins, percussion and metallic percussion gong’s calling was impressive.
“Spartacus”, was composed by Aram Khachaturian. This song was written for a ballet in 1954, and the retelling of a Thracian gladiator reuniting with his wife after she was captured, was romantic. The middle part of the song hinted at a shadowed darker time, and the echo of a call and response of the orchestra was instrumental in building the dramatic intensity to a crescendo. The ending of the song relayed the couple’s tender love, as the tempo calmed and the lead violinist brought the story to a peaceful end.
Jeremy Soule’s “Song of the Dragonborn” played next and began in the Dragonborn’s ‘tongue’ – shouts which are heard alongside the horns and violins and were an effective way to introduce the mood. This was an uplifting and courageous song and in some parts it lifted my imagination skyward. This was a very regal song utilising strong brass and percussion to create a mediaeval themed mood.
“The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring Symphonic Suite”, arranged by John Whitney, was the last piece the KPO performed and was a wonderful piece to end on. Composer, conductor and orchestrator Howard Shore’s film scores have earned Academy Awards, Golden Globes and Grammy Awards and this suite, beautifully played by the KPO, showcased his talent. The LotR suite included distinct sweeping movements for different character themes. Most notably, the heavier colours during one part came through with sharp precision with the brass and percussion, and then was contrasted with the piccolo, flutes and strings for lighter moments.
The talented musicians from the the Ku-ring-gai Philharmonic Orchestra, led by conductor Paul Terracini created a magical afternoon. This was an encompassing musical journey into the imaginative world of make believe worlds of film, animation and gaming. If you are a music lover, you must listen to a live KPO performance in the future. There is a free community concert called Nothing is Forever, on September 20 2026 at the Turramurra Uniting Church.
Spirited Away Movie and Gaming Music was performed at The Concourse Concert Hall in Chatswood. Time: 2 hours with a 20 minute interval.
How do you describe the sheer beauty and joy of Emily Granger’s live harp performance? It’s impossible but I’ll give it a try.
There’s something otherworldly about the harp. The Lyres or Harps of Ur are the oldest surviving stringed instruments in the world. They were made of cedar, boxwood, gold, silver and lapis lazuli. Four and a half thousand years later, the classical harp that Emily borrowed for the evening is still a work of art, crafted from wood, decorated with gold.
If you close your eyes, you can picture yourself as part of tradition that has survived since ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt, evolving through the feasting halls of Ireland and Scotland’s Celtic chiefs, to the Royal palaces of France and Italy.
Nothing will ever replace the wonder and magic of being there, in the room, with a world-class musician, holding an audience enraptured.
In movies, the purity of harp music can be heartbreaking. You feel like you’re holding your breath, like the world is somehow spinning more slowly.
The delicate sounds of the harp defy words and conjure feelings and images, like a magic spell.
I found myself imaging a tiny child, wearing a princess dress and a pair of dress-up fairy wings, running barefoot through soft wet grass, gumboots in hand, after a rain spell. I wondered what everyone else in the audience was feeling or seeing in their mind’s eye.
As Emily said, “I hope with everything going on in the world, that this music makes you feel a little lighter.”
Emily’s new album, “A Thing Of Beauty,” is an absolute delight. It’s a wonderful treasure house full of new compositions, and we were blessed to have four of the composers sitting alongside us in the Sydney Opera House’s Utzon Room.
The evening’s performance sparkled with new music including “Emily’s Suite,” composed by Alice Chance, and “sanddollar,” composed by Sarah Elise Thompson. We journeyed from reminiscences of winters’ past to Californian beaches, from Christina Rossetti’s poetry to lullabies gifted to newborn babies.
Granger is a warm and natural performer, telling us little personal stories of visiting the tiny village of Karoola in Tasmania. She recited poet Hilary Burden’s four Karoola Seasons haikus; Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter, and played the four harp pieces they inspired, composed by Christina Sonnemann Baehr.
Granger’s versatility and talent are matched by her devotion to music. Her new album, “A Thing Of Beauty,” is full of new harp music that she has commissioned, creating incredible opportunities for contemporary composers.
As Emily told the audience, “I believe in creating a little happiness every day.”
Emily Granger’s new album, ‘A Thing Of Beauty,’ released through ABC Classic, is now available on CD and streaming. https://www.abc.net.au/listen/classic/shop/emily-granger-a-thing-of-beauty/106866470
You can find Emily Granger online at: https://emilygranger.com/
Haydn’s The Creation Sydney Opera House – Concert Hall
For my first experience of a major classical performance, I could hardly have asked for a more fitting introduction than Joseph Haydn’s The Creation in the Sydney Opera House Concert Hall. Performed by the Sydney Philharmonia Choirs and Orchestra under the direction of Brett Weymark, this one-night concert presentation demonstrated that music alone can tell a story with extraordinary clarity, scale and emotional force.
For those unfamiliar with the form, an oratorio shares many features with opera, using soloists, chorus and orchestra to tell a dramatic story, but is presented as a concert rather than with scenery, costumes or theatrical staging. Oratorios are also usually sacred or liturgical in theme; Handel’s Messiah, which helped inspire Haydn’s The Creation, is perhaps the best-known example. Here, the programme’s inclusion of the libretto was especially useful. As Naomi Hnat noted in the pre-concert talk, The Creation was always intended to be performable for an English-speaking audience, and the edition used in this performance adopted the original English words as set by Haydn. That made the storytelling feel immediate rather than translated at a distance.
Before the performance, a free forty-five-minute talk in the Northern Foyer provided an excellent introduction to the work. Hosted by Tom Forrester-Paton, with Conducting Fellow Naomi Hnat and geobiologist Dr Maxwell Lechte, it proved especially valuable for those without a long background in classical music. Hnat demonstrated key passages at the piano, making Haydn’s musical language accessible without oversimplifying it. Her explanation of the opening “Chaos” was particularly illuminating, showing how Haydn deliberately avoids the musical resolutions audiences instinctively expect, leaving the music unsettled as it searches for order. She also explained the famous “and there was light” passage, where the word “light” marks the transition from C minor into a blazing C major — a moment she described as one of Haydn’s favourites, while Forrester-Paton noted it was also a favourite passage for the chorus to perform.
Brett Weymark conducted with remarkable vitality. At times he seemed almost to dance the music into being, but never in a way that distracted from the performance itself. Rather, he seemed to live inside Haydn’s score as it turned and changed, especially during the more dramatic passages. His evident affection for the work translated into a performance of momentum, warmth and conviction, drawing committed responses from both orchestra and choir.
The opening “Chaos” unfolded exactly as Hnat had described, resisting comfortable resolution and creating an unsettled musical landscape before the famous declaration, “Let there be light.” The command itself arrived softly but with quiet certainty. The true release came with “and there was light,” when orchestra, choir and the lighting above the stage opened together in what felt like a blazing sunrise of sound. After the uncertainty of the opening, the effect was overwhelming: not merely heard, but physically felt throughout the Concert Hall.
The orchestra served not simply as accompaniment but as the foundation on which the entire performance rested. Rather than drawing attention to individual sections, it supported the unfolding narrative and allowed Haydn’s vivid musical imagery to emerge naturally. Nathan Cox’s fortepiano became an elegant bridge between orchestra and voices, adding delicacy and clarity whenever the soloists emerged.
The principal soloists each brought a distinct vocal character to the performance. Celeste Lazarenko’s Gabriel had a quicksilver lightness, bright, agile and seemingly airborne. As Eve, that radiance remained but became more grounded, giving the final part a warmer and more human presence. The transformation was subtle rather than theatrical, allowing the audience to hear not merely another role but another way of encountering the newly created world.
Kyle Stegall’s Uriel brought his own brightness and flexibility to the tenor line, carrying the narrative with clarity and ease. His singing had an effortless quality that allowed the story to move naturally from one stage of creation to the next, without ever feeling merely functional.
Michael Lampard’s baritone offered an ideal counterweight, oak-like in its warmth and solidity. As Raphael, he anchored the great descriptive passages with steadiness and authority; as Adam, he revealed a gentler and more intimate character. His duets with Lazarenko were among the evening’s finest moments, their contrasting vocal colours creating both balance and intimacy.
The addition of mezzo-soprano Yvette Leonard in the closing section broadened the vocal palette of the solo ensemble. Rather than competing with the principal voices, her contribution enriched the finale, adding warmth and balance to the concluding pages and giving the ending a fuller sense of vocal breadth.
If the soloists carried the narrative, the Sydney Philharmonia Choir supplied the emotional and spiritual force of the evening. At its most powerful it became a wall of sound, filling the Concert Hall without losing clarity. Yet what impressed just as much was its subtlety. Softer passages revealed many colours, while from the stalls it was possible to see and hear the individual vocal lines ripple across the risers before gathering once more into a unified whole. The effect was almost orchestral in itself, different voices emerging and receding like changing colours through falling leaves. By the second half, I found myself anticipating each occasion the choir would rise again.
The renovated Concert Hall deserves mention as a participant in the performance rather than simply its setting. The acoustics combined warmth, clarity and power, allowing orchestra, soloists and choir to blend without sacrificing individual detail. Music in this space was not simply audible; it had a tangible physical presence that surrounded the audience and reinforced the grandeur of Haydn’s vision.
The audience responded warmly throughout the afternoon, with appreciative applause between the major sections and a generous ovation at the conclusion. It felt like an acknowledgement not only of technical accomplishment but of the care, preparation and affection that had gone into bringing Haydn’s masterpiece to life.
For a first encounter with large-scale classical performance, The Creation proved both welcoming and awe-inspiring. More than two centuries after Haydn composed it, its sense of wonder remains intact. Under Weymark’s energetic direction, supported by outstanding soloists, orchestra and choir, this one-night performance transformed the Concert Hall into a place where creation was not simply described — it was vividly experienced.
