Several recent records released by ABC Classics and BIS have
                given Brett Dean’s music the wider exposure that it undoubtedly
                deserves. The works on this brand new disc tend to confirm Dean’s
                status as a highly personal composer. He emerges as a composer
                whose music tackles contemporary issues in purely musical terms
                rather than in the bluntly polemical ones that one might have
                expected. For example, 
Pastoral Symphony and 
Water
                Music deal with contemporary concerns such as deforestation
                and man’s repeated damage to Nature in 
Pastoral Symphony and
                the global problem of water supply and lack of it in 
Water
                Music. Other works such as 
Carlo and 
Testament draw
                on extra-musical preoccupations such as madness and despair.
                Other still such as 
Game Over and 
Vexations
                and Devotions reflect on certain debilitating effects
                of our present-day “civilisation” such as the banality
                of modern TV and its game and reality shows or of the use of
                often abstruse jargon alienating the power of speech. 
                
                
Pastoral Symphony for ensemble and tape was composed
                after the composer’s return to Australia. “This piece
                is about glorious birdsong, the threat that it faces, the loss,
                and the soulless noise that we’re left with when they’re
                all gone” (Brett Dean). The work opens with a dawn chorus
                on tape to which the oboe adds its harmonic overtones to create
                an intense, atmospheric but by no means idyllic landscape. This
                uneasy, foreboding feeling prevails for a while. The music then
                seems to open-up but becomes more agitated and restless till
                it reaches a climax when the insistent sounds of a logger’s
                axe are heard. After the trees fall birds scatter and the music
                launches into an aggressive, mechanical section leading into
                the barren and desolate coda. 
                
                
The Siduri Dances for flute and strings - the most
                recent work here and the only one that does not use sampler or
                pre-recorded material - draws on a piece for flute: 
Demons composed
                for Sharon Bezaly. The composer points that Siduri is a wise
                female divinity from the Epic of Gilgamesh, who dwells by the
                sea at the ends of the earth and offers sage advice to those
                travelling to other realms. After a short, mysterious introduction
                the music becomes livelier and dance-like while pausing for some
                calmer episodes. It progressively calms down and slowly makes
                its way back towards its mysterious close. This is a lovely work
                that should find a permanent place in any flautist’s repertoire.
                Sharon Bezaly’s playing and musicality is a real joy from
                first to last. 
                
                
Water Music for saxophone quartet and chamber orchestra
                is a more serious affair. It is in three movements with titles
                that clearly trace the music’s narration: 
Bubbling (the
                sound of water), 
Coursing (the image of rushing water)
                and 
Parched Earth (the absence of water). Dean displays
                his full compositional array. He does this in a most imaginative
                way to suggest his various visions while avoiding any all-too-crude
                pictorial effects. The sonic register of the saxophone quartet
                - that the composer considers as a “super-instrument” -
                is remarkably imaginative throughout. The composer also uses
                more advanced techniques such as multiphonics, key clicks and
                the like, but never extravagantly. Sampled material is also used
                in the outer movements but is conspicuously absent from the central
                Scherzo. The first movement is appropriately capricious whereas
                the second is an energetic Scherzo in which the propulsive character
                of the music rarely flags. Room is left for a slow chorale after
                which the music resumes its course and rushes towards an animated
                conclusion capped by a brief, dark coda. The final movement paints
                a bleak and desolate landscape. 
                
                
Carlo is the earliest and the most complex work
                in this ear-opening selection. It draws on Gesualdo’s life
                and work as well as on Dean’s admiration of his music.
                It is scored for strings, sampler and tape. Meurig Bowen’s
                excellent notes go into considerable detail about the complex
                fabric of the music. It would be idle for me to try of sum them
                up or (worse!) to repeat them, the more so in that I am not particularly
                well-versed in Gesualdo’s music. 
Carlo opens
                with music by Gesualdo heard on tape/CD. This is soon confronted
                with Dean’s own reaction to the music. This then proceeds
                wave-like through a series of contrasted episodes until it reaches
                its horror-stricken climax - Gesualdo stabbing his wife and her
                lover? There follows a lengthy coda based on Gesualdo’s
                second Responsory for Maundy Thursday ending with an unresolved
                crescendo. To be quite frank I admit being somewhat prejudiced
                about this piece before listening to it. However, repeated hearings
                have convinced me that this is by far the most impressive work
                in this generous selection of Dean’s honest and thought-provoking
                music. 
                
                Performances and recording are first rate from start to end,
                and Bowen’s detailed and well-informed notes considerably
                add to one’s appreciation of these often gripping works. 
                
                
Hubert Culot