SPIRITUS AUSTRALIS – The spirit of Australia, as embodied in the Australian choral
compositions performed around the world in 2012 by the Wayfarers Australia chamber choir.
Here I am back in Canberra, which has been my home for most of my adult life. I have just returned
from a two month tour of eastern Australia followed by a five month tour of the world, performing
and workshopping Australian and other compositions, mostly choral, with Wayfarers Australia - in
Taiwan, China, Russia, Latvia, Estonia, Finland, Hungary, Italy, Germany, Switzerland, France,
Spain, England, Orkney Islands and India.
Wayfarers Australia is a very loosely-knit assemblage of performers, with different members in
each project (some ongoing) drawn largely from the world of Steiner or Waldorf schools or
communities. I began the group in 1997 (it was then called Waldorf Wayfarers), with students,
teachers and parents from several such schools around Australia - anyone was welcome who loved
singing. As I work participants very hard, and expect them to improve their sight-singing daily,
those who stay the pace are, or become, very able musicians. Every year since 1997 Wayfarers have
toured, either in Australia or overseas, always with a large component of contemporary Australian
repertoire. Some members are good instrumentalists, so I tailor repertoire choice to the skills
available for each tour.
For 2012 I decided to ask those interested to put their study or employment plans on hold for a
whole year , and devote themselves entirely to rehearsals, fund-raising, teaching or workshopping,
and performing, from 2nd January until 4th November. I chose Bach's Jesu Meine Freude as my
bench-mark: interested people had to be prepared to sing their part in Bach's difficult masterpiece
alone against other parts. I ended up with twenty-four people (eight men), mostly under 35, from all
over Australia, with two besides myself being professional musicians. Instrumental skills were
violins, viola, cello, piano, flute, oboe, clarinet, sax, trumpet, recorders, didj, crumhorns,
percussion. Many were also excellent actors and dancers.
The Australian repertoire I chose included a great deal of mine, some of which was written or
arranged especially for the tour:
1. Kakadu, for SAB choir, solo singers, didj, hammered dulcimer, flute, clarinet, cello, recorders,
percussion. I had composed this in 1990 for the Gaudeamus performing group of 20 people to take
to an ISME conference in Finland. The 2012 group comprised very similar skills. Pianist Renate
Turrini took on the hammered dulcimer part. We developed possible movement sequences to teach
in workshop situations, and assembled a series of images to show with the performance.
2. Spiritus Sanctus Australis I composed in 2002 for the Wayfarers, soprano soloist and wind
quartet. I rewrote it for our 2012 tour for unaccompanied SATB choir.
3. The Tree of Life I wrote in 2005 for SSA choir and strings. I rewrote that for our 2012 tour for
SSAB choir, flute, recorders, bells and cello.
4. As a music theatre piece for either performance or workshops, we took my Songs of Middle
Earth, settings of Tolkien's poems from The Lord of the Rings, which I wrote in the late 60's and
added to in 1993. My 1993 script from the novel, The Ring Bearer, we reworked early this year to
suit our group's skills and the necessity of travelling light. It became necessary many times across
the year to re-orchestrate the songs, as the original cellist dropped out, some instrumentalists were
required as actors etc. Flexibilty became my byword!
5. I wrote The Dancing Wombat in 2004 for massed children's recorder band and youth orchestra;
for our 2012 tour I rewrote it for recorder quintet and children's eclectic orchestra, with very simple
parts for violin 3, descant recorder 2 and 3, cello 2 etc, and percussion, to make it suitable for
school workshops; we also added a mimed story to make it a suitable piece for performances for
children.
6. Early in 2012 I wrote a music theatre piece for children, The Earth Story, in two versions: a
performance version using Wayfarers as solo and chorus singers, with string, wind and percussion
players; and a schools workshop version, with call and response singing, and simple recorder and
bell parts for children to play, while other children mimed and spoke.
7. I wrote / arranged eight short pieces of music theatre for children, to be either performed or
workshopped, using voices and instruments. We workshopped these in January 2012.
8. My Songs of the Tree of Life volume 1 books we took to provide us with reperotire for the very
young.
I have, since my entrée into the world of adult music-making in the mid-1960's, worn the hats of
both composer and conductor (and quite often the third hat of singer as well) in my presentations of
Australian choral music. This has advantages and drawbacks: an obvious advantage is that a
composer writing for a group he/she directs can tailor-make pieces to the technical skills, perfect
pitch or otherwise of singers, voice ranges and voice colours available, in the full knowledge that
what is being written will in fact be well performed by the group in mind. (As choral singing in
Australia has always been an amateur, or at best a pro-am undertaking, there is of necessity a
ceiling to one's compositional aspirations – and rehearsal period need to be long enough to
accommodate singers who are not trained musicians).
Disadvantages of multiple hat-wearing are :
(i) the singers do not take new compositions written by their conductor as seriously as they do
compositions written by other composers. (One of my singers this year several times asked me
"when are we going to sing some Australian music?" – when we had already put several months
into my compositions)!
(ii) I find it difficult, when giving a conductor's spiel about works to be performed – either written
words for a program, or verbatim audience-chat, to talk up my own works – it is much easier to wax
eloquent about the works of another composer.
When I was a young composer, I was puzzled and confused by the notion of "Australian-ness" in
discussions of choral music. At that time (1960's – 70's) Australian choral music had not yet come
into its own. Serious choirs and vocal ensembles regarded it as second-best – most singers and
conductors much preferred singing the great European masterpieces of previous centuries to the
often laboriously contrived serial music characteristic of the time.
I felt like a charlatan, as I was writing music in which there were discernable melodies – however, I
performed my compositions, and enjoyed the fact that both singers and audiences loved them. I was
certainly not trying to be Australian. I was, and still am, more drawn to setting words than to
writing purely instrumental music. I spent several years at that time setting many of the poems by
J.R.R. Tolkien in "The Lord of the Rings" for choir and orchestra. In 1993 I spent a year creating a
stage script from the three books of the novel, and wrote music for a further eight songs. This year
in our world tour, the twenty members of Wayfarers have been presenting the entire work as music
theatre to rapt audiences in China, eastern and western Europe, UK and India. The music fits the
words like a glove. But is this Australian music? Stylistically, it has affinities with early European
music, while also, especially where the words require strength, employing dissonance.
Other pieces of Australian repertoire:
Three pieces by Stephen Leek:
1. Ngana, for unaccompanied SSAATB choir
2. Kondalilla, for unaccompanied SATB choir
3. Eurunderee Creek, for unaccompanied TTB choir
Two works by Liam Waterford:
1. Missa Brevis for unaccompanied SSATB choir (2002)
(Kyrie, Sanctus, Benedictus, Agnus Dei, Dona Nobis Pacem)
2. The Wattle Tree for unaccompanied SSATB choir (2008)
Past Life Melodies by Sarah Hopkins (12 voice parts, unaccompanied SATB)
In addition to 20th and 21st century Australian works, we took a repertoire of one thousand years of
European and English choral music, up to a very recent Dutch piece for TTB choir, and many short,
workshop-style pieces from all over the world. And I wrote especially for the tour a series of music
theatre works for children. My aim was that wherever we ended up around the world we could give
a performance or a workshop of choral music or music theatre, of any length, suitable for a very
wide range of audiences varying in age and musical understanding.
We performed in schools, theatres, churches and cathedrals, community centres, museums, markets
and festivals. Most of our contacts were pre-arranged; some were spontaneous. Almost always,
audiences, when given a choice, wanted to hear our Australian pieces. And of our Australian pieces,
they related most easily to music which conjured up the ancient land of Australia, and traditional
ways of life in Australia. Pieces falling into this category are my Kakadu, and Leek's Ngana and
Kondalilla.These three all make an immediate impact on audiences. Neither Ngana nor Kondalilla
relies on text; Kakadu, in which the text is important, is helped by a short verbal explanation before
the performance of the six seasons, telling the audience their traditional names, and describing the
dry / wet reality.
Renate Turrini, one of the Wayfarers who is a professional musician, gives her view of these three
works:
Kakadu, Judith Clingan 1990
In this extended work the listener is invited to experience the six seasons of Kakadu in Northern
Australia, as well as to learn about the lives and some of the customs of its original inhabitants. In
addition to SATB voices, the score calls for an imaginative (but adaptable) palette of orchestral
colour. A dulcimer, digeridoo and generous percussion, as well as the more traditional orchestral
instruments are called upon to evoke storms, unrelenting tropical rains, dry heat and bitter winds.
The score achieves a clever blend of rhythmic, harmonic and melodic complexity that makes it
challenging to perform, yet the work is simultaneously sufficiently adaptable for less experienced
musicians to contribute in a variety of vocal and instrumental roles, making several sections of the
work ideal for student workshops. International audiences (in China for example) have been
particularly fascinated by this work’s unique "Australian-ness" realised both by the text and by the
particularly "Australian" soundscape the composition evokes.
Ngana, Stephen Leek 1994
The considerable challenges that need to be overcome in order to successfully perform this piece lie
in its rhythmic complexity. Though unlikely that most audience members would be aware of the
piece’s exacting compositional techniques, the tension and excitement generated by their successful
execution is palpable. Ngana’s text uses as its source four indigenous words (ngana - shark;
mangana - fish; yah - welcome; lina - blue waters). Yet, like Kondalilla, it is arguably not the text
that gives Ngana its identifiable ‘Australian’ quality, but rather the abovementioned purely musical
devices. These include the significant use of vocal ‘drones’; ‘melodic’ material consisting of short
rhythmic fragments with a limited intervallic range; the juxtaposition of these fragments in a tight
rhythmic counterpoint, and the use of syncopation and shifting metre. Leek’s instruction to perform
this piece using a nasal sound is reminiscent of indigenous cultures and further contributes to the
piece’s feeling of "Australian-ness".
Kondalilla, from Great Southern Spirits, Stephen Leek, 1991
Kondalilla has that difficult to define yet readily identifiable ‘Australian’ quality; a quality that
overseas audiences find eternally fascinating. Kondalilla, in South Eastern Queensland is a place
of great geographical beauty. In his score Leek seeks to evoke the sounds of Kondalilla, in
particular its waterfalls and birds. Leek instructs the performers to place themselves strategically
around the auditorium, thereby surrounding the audience with sound and heightening the listeners’
sensory experience. The resultant evocative soundscape never fails to engage audiences. The
work’s success is in no small part due to its accessibility; the audience’s enjoyment is not
contingent on prerequisite musical knowledge but rather on an ability and desire to surrender to
the aural experience. From a performer’s perspective the ‘free’ and somewhat random nature of
the vocal entries that the score demands ensures that no two performances are ever alike. The piece
works especially well in workshops with young adults, though the requirement to make unusual solo
vocalizations while standing next to an audience member can be somewhat daunting to the
uninitiated!
Waterford's The Wattle Tree and my Spiritus Sanctus Australis, both of which are among the choir's
favourite pieces, are harder for an average audience with no text in a program note to relate the
sounds to – but a discerning audience, especially one equipped with the text, loves them.
The Wattle Tree is a glorious setting of a splendid Judith Wright poem. To quote Renate:
The Wattle Tree, Liam Waterford, 2008
Waterford’s melodic lines are satisfyingly singable and these, unfolding within a rich five-part
contrapuntal texture betray an obvious wealth of knowledge of, and deep love of the European
choral tradition. The influence of Judith Clingan, Waterford’s teacher and mentor, can be clearly
seen in Waterford’s liberal use of dissonance within the texture, in particular seconds, sevenths and
tritones, and the effective use of rhythmic devices such as polyrhythm and frequent metre change.
The rich choral tapestry that Waterford weaves deservedly place his works within the growing
canon of Australian choral music.
While the opening of my Spiritus Sanctus Australis is atmospheric, most of the piece is conceptual,
dealing with the urgent need for white Australians to put more effort into redressing the wrongs
suffered by indigenous people. To gain the full impact audiences really need the text in the
program. To quote Renate again:
Spiritus Sanctus Australis, Judith Clingan, 2002
This powerful work depicts the story of the white invasion of the Australian continent seen from an
aboriginal perspective. The whispers and cluster chords emanating from performers surrounding
the audience and the modal, pounding round of the opening passages evoke a distant, timeless
quality. With insistent chorale-like refrains framing the chillingly discordant episodes depicting
‘loss’, ‘greed’ and ‘death’, the piece presents considerable challenges of pitch and intonation and
requires significant rehearsal for each new performance. A memorable performance on this tour
was for our demonstrably appreciative St Petersburg audience where we offered an all Australian
concert including Spiritus Sanctus Australis.
It is almost impossible for a choir to sing interesting choral music in such a way as to make every
word clear, so text in hand really enhances the choral experience for audiences. Unfortunately,
when touring, it is not always possible to organise the creation of programs complete with texts and
notes. My verbal introductions did, however, help. Audiences became visibly engaged and moved .
And so it became apparent to us that on the whole "Australian-ness" is linked to a work's sonic
appeal to an audience's preconceived notions about the Great South Land. Both Leek and I on
occasion reference indigenous chant (Ngana and parts of Kakadu). The opening of Spiritus Sanctus
Australis aims to create the timelessness and immensity of open space found in the heart of
Australia. And Kondalilla and other parts of Kakadu use evocative vocal sounds to conjure up a
beautiful rainforest wilderness, replete with multi-coloured birds and luxuriant waterfalls.
How then should we look at an Australian composer's setting of the ancient words of the Catholic
Mass? Is it possible for any quality of "Australian-ness" to be felt in such a work? Perhaps. I love
Waterford's Missa Brevis. And it could be that what I love about it is its freshness, its use of stasis
laced with intricate rhythmic play, its openness of texture. All of these qualities could be said to be
true of things Australian. But probably the work could equally have been written by a contemporary
Finnish composer. However, I don't feel, as perhaps Stephen Leek might feel, that a contemporary
Australian composer has no business setting those words.
One of our performers is also a young Melbourne composer, Gawain Davey, who wrote several
pieces for us en route, which enlivened us considerably. We gave a good premiere performance of
his pieces in our Australian Choral Music concert in York, UK. In Gawain's words:
Having my choir piece Night Walk premiered by Wayfarers Australia undoubtedly ranks as one of
my personal highlights as a composer. Initially, I was tentative... would people enjoy my piece? I
had written it without a piano or a computer, just using pencil and paper and a tuning fork. I'd only
tried it with a few devoted singers. Would it sound okay in a choir context?
Then finally, a sense of satisfaction... all of the sounds in my head coming to life in rehearsals as I'd
hoped they would, all the interesting chords coming together at the right moments, singers enjoying
the piece, basses dealing with impossible leaps ... it was everything a composer could wish for. The
performance itself was excellent, and the extra-musical effects I'd asked for were pulled off with
gusto (the performers told me they really liked whispering 'k, haaaa'). It felt odd that my piece,
which was really about a walk in Canberra, should be premiered in York, England. But the
audience were very appreciative, and didn't seem to mind a concert of unknown Australian choral
music.
Even more exciting for me (and more personal)... in the same concert Wayfarers premiered four
short works of mine. These pieces were each written about a different member of the choir; for
example one was titled 'Gill', and another 'Rohan'. This time, only eight singers were involved, as
there had been no time on our world tour (!) to rehearse these songs with the whole choir. Thus I
had eight excellent singers to sing four intricate miniature portraits. My idea for the 'name pieces'
was that they should be short (enabling me to get through twenty choir members!) and should be
representative of that person - the text might tell something about them, and the music would
hopefully suit their personality or their quirks. These pieces were received very favourably; perhaps
it was pointing out each chorister before their piece was sung, or the intimacy of singing songs
specifically made for certain people, or maybe it was their easily digestible size. Perhaps it was the
music itself. I do know that the whole concert made everyone involved, including me, very happy.
Such inspiring experiences make me determined to continue composing interesting, accessible,
challenging music that people enjoy.
Our tour was challenging and satisfying. We have left strong impressions in many listeners'
memories in many parts of the world. And clearly, this sort of thing could happen more – the rest of
the world is very keen to hear more from Australians. So I would love to have suggestions as to
Australian choral compositions which could suit a future Wayfarers world tour.