It would do this music
an injustice to liken it to film music,
yet it has the overtones of film music
in its unrelenting dramaticism, its
epic heroics and its grandiose nobility
... not to mention its melodic tunefulness!
The first work, Earth
Cry, is - as it claims – the cry
of the earth, an angry, bitter, wounded
cry. The second piece, Mangrove,
composed seven years earlier, portrays
not so much an actual mangrove tree
in music, but the history, the atmosphere
and settings of mangrove trees from
time immemorial. The Songs of the
Sea and Sky – six wordless, voice-less
songs in one continuous movement - were
originally written for clarinet and
piano, and are here arranged for didgeridoo
and orchestra. We hear demanding virtuosic
playing of Olympic proportions from
William Barton, the outstanding didgeridoo
player. Kakadu opens with the
earth displaying its tremendous power
and force again – this time exultant.
In the slower, middle part of the work’s
three sections, a sinuous cor anglais
laments, wailing over the didgeridoo
grumbling and croaking below, with angry
shooting strings and frantic ritualistic
drums, before the work returns to the
manic joy of its opening. The final
work on the disc is From Ubirr,
portraying the rocky outcrop of that
name in Kakadu National Park, and its
rock paintings.
This is a composer
with something to say, and a voice to
say it with. As one listens one increasingly
notices similarities in the sound-world
to Tavener, yet the music remaining
thoroughly original and idiosyncratic
– and never same-y. Sculthorpe combines
heart-aching melancholy with jubilant
exhilaration – gorgeously lyrical melodies
or jaunty dance-rhythms contrast with
the booming echoes of the didgeridoo
and with strings often shrieking out,
or darting beneath. An emotion that
is often roused by this music is fear
- fear of the unknown, of primitive
forces beyond our control. Sculthorpe
summons up paeans of rage and grief
for a diminishing people and the agonised
cries, the primitive voices of the land
breaking out of the rocks and bushes
and wailing aloud to the sky. He portrays
vast open vistas, mysterious, enigmatic
landscapes, and primaeval fetid swamps,
with music that is at once ritualistic
and ancient, and refreshingly individual.
These are noises that one has never
heard before but that are unaccountably
familiar as if from one’s dreams of
a previous existence. This is desperately
emotional and deeply moving music -
music that cries aloud to one’s soul
- and one of the most revelatory and
frankly astonishing CDs I’ve encountered.
Recommended to anyone
who wants to be struck with awe, fear,
or wonder at the smallness of man and
greatness of nature!
Em Marshall
You can find
more Sculthorpe
on ABC
William Barton (didgeridoo) 
