Published Messenger Newspapers, Adelaide, September 24, 2003


IN SYMPHONY WITH LOW NOTES


MY OLD record collection included Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple, which I mention now, at the outset, in order to confirm my Baby Boomer bona fides. I once went to a rock concert featuring The Who and The Small Faces on the same bill. True, I also went to a Glen Campbell concert at the old Apollo Stadium but it was marital blackmail at the time, which does not count. Now, I am more likely to attend a Beethoven concert rather than one by the Rolling Stones, although they are around the same vintage. Adelaide is fortunate to have its own fine symphony orchestra, equal to playing Wagner or the theme from The Magnificent Seven, and willing to perform virtually anywhere if it means attracting a new audience. I have to say, though, the Entertainment Centre is not my favourite concert venue: the traffic gridlock, the foyer T-shirt hucksters, the wandering ice cream vendors and the sheer industrial scale of the auditorium. Yet I still turned up there a while back for an Adelaide Symphony Orchestra concert ``spectacular'', complete with military band and a 200 voice choir. The ASO ploy to attract a younger audience seemed to have worked a treat this time to judge by the number of youngsters, hoods pulled over their heads, sucking Chupa Chups and crumpling cellophane chip bags in my ear. Spotlights zoomed around and around and giant video screens above the orchestra displayed what could not be seen of the stage from where I sat in the back corner. At different times, a body-builder also strutted his stuff and giant balloons were sent bouncing over the audience, with the orchestra and their instruments protected behind netting. The music itself included such tunes as Fanfare for the Common Man, Toreador and Ride of the Valkeries, to which hundreds of paper helicopters fluttered from cages under the roof in the style of Apocalypse Now. Unfortunately, despite the seven technicians crewing the control centre amid the stalls - more than on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise - the sound system was over-amplified to the point of distortion and had no hope of coping with soprano Kirsti Harms' highest note on a headset mike. Whenever a lull occurred in the music, the air was filled with a feedback hum. Here was a symphonic concert for the generation who could not imagine music without an electric guitar and a drum machine. By interval I had a headache and, from sitting half-twisted to see, I also had a crick in my neck and my left buttock was numb from leaning at an angle. The finale 1812 Overture, set against a background of industrial welders spewing sparks, brought the crowd to its feet and I quickly left without waiting for an encore, having to trudge halfway to Croydon to retrieve my car. Last week I went to a Musica Viva concert at the Adelaide Town Hall featuring the baroque quartet Red Priest. No criticism of the ASO - whatever it takes to get bums on seats - but by comparison it was wonderful to be listening to glorious music in gorgeous surroundings, as was originally intended. Am I growing old? Apparently so.