AUGUST 24 2019 LISTENER 55
think and the way we manage our
country and our resources and the way
in which we value our cities and our
towns.”
So, are the shows a form of protest?
Tonnon says that for his generation
- it’s telling he defines this by saying
he was born just after finance minister
Roger Douglas floated the dollar in
March 1985 – protest doesn’t work in
the way it did for boomers.
“The generation I’m part of is
ambivalent about the forms of protest
that were more
common before
the 1980s – I don’t
feel as if letters to
the editor would
work and I don’t
focus on writing
protest songs in
the same way
as There is No
Depression in New
Zealand was a pro-
test song. There’s
an unwillingness
to be didactic in
that way; instead,
we use different
methods. So, I
wouldn’t say that
Rail Land is a pro-
test; instead, it is
doing something.
“That’s where
I see potential
for change – if I
get 150 people
together and [we]
have a great expe-
rience by running
a train, that to
me is much more
interesting than
writing letters to the editor.”
I
n the same way that the Rail Land
show changes from location to loca-
tion – and, he hopes, will grow with
his music year-by-year – Tonnon’s second
set of shows this year is also an evolution
- this time from an idea conceived to run
as part of last year’s New Zealand Interna-
tional Science Festival and first performed
at Otago Museum’s planetarium.
A Synthesized Universe relies, like
Rail Land, on a great deal of research
condensed into a one-hour show. It
originally involved using a real-time
planetarium display for its backdrop,
but, Tonnon says, it was unrealistic to
have a show that relied on “anyone
who has a state-of-the-art, half-a-
million-dollar planetarium”. So he’s
adapted it to be able to tour smaller
venues and arts festivals by incorporat-
ing 3D holograms created by projectors
and computer mapping, which run
behind a constant flow of spoken-word
narratives, history-telling, theatrical-
ity, a synthesizer score and individual
songs.
Although
Tonnon started
out as a traditional
release-an-album,
tour-an-album
performer and still
intends to release
albums, he’s
adapted quickly to
what he says is the
far more interest-
ing process of
building themed
live shows and
tours.
“I struggle
with the culture
of music that I
grew up in of just
playing songs and
‘being real, man’.
I don’t think we
were respecting
people’s time.
“I’ve come to
realise that the
only reason a
performer deserves
to have people
turn up and give
them an hour of
their valuable time is if that performer
has spent a lot more time preparing
for that hour than the audience has.
If you can distil 200 hours of research
and preparation into an hour on stage,
then you can transcend time, and that’s
where the magic of performance comes
from.” l
Rail Land: Gonville, St Peter’s Church,
Whanganui, August 17. A Synthesized
Universe, Tairāwhiti Arts Festival, Gisborne,
October 11; Nelson Arts Festival, October 24;
Tauranga Arts Festival, October 26.
Sense of the
abstract
Composer’s sonic
fragments more than
the sum of their parts.
C
ontemporary art music without lyrics
or evocative titles doesn’t always make
for easy listening. Remove the ready
appeal of driving rhythm or beat and
we are challenged to open our ears to a differ-
ent kind of beauty.
For New Zealand composer Chris Gendall,
music is always an abstract art form. In his
intriguing works, he explores the sounds and
gestures we hear, the resonances in which they
vibrate and the silences that punctuate them.
Sonic shapes are suspended in musical space
as if from an aural mobile as he invites us to
consider their qualities and relationships.
Gendall’s new album includes chamber
works from a decade of composing. Dulcet
Tones is presented with verve by the NZ Trio,
the sweetness of the title found in limpid
piano flurries within a fragmentary texture.
The Suite that follows in a committed perfor-
mance from the New Zealand String Quartet
is full of Germanic expressionist angst, its
gritty and irascible surface making little
attempt to beguile.
Friends of Distinction is Gendall’s decon-
struction of music by Bach, Scarlatti and
Schumann. Sarah Watkins’ fleet pianism spar-
kles like the originals, while the raw material
is broken up for our contemplation. Watkins
also features in the rapid, explosive Going
like Mad, with a title from the conclusion of
Joyce’s Ulysses. The “going”, the rhythmic
momentum, is interrupted by improvisatory
pauses. Though written for piano duet, Wat-
kins plays both parts, recorded separately.
An exquisite performance of the introspec-
tive Inward Goes for solo flute is particularly
appealing. Luca Manghi finds a huge expres-
sive range, including singing and whistling
into his instrument, while carrying the music
forward to make complete sense of Gendall’s
floating melodic fragments. l
TONES, Chris Gendall, featuring the NZ Trio, New
Zealand String Quartet, Sarah Watkins (piano),
Luca Manghi (flute) (Rattle)
CLASSICAL
by Elizabeth Kerr
He spent hours doing
research for his shows
at the Otago Settlers
Museum and the
Hocken Collections
at the University of
Otago Library.