CSM 41: A Selection of Twentieth Century Australian Piano Music Disc 2

Permanent URI for this collectionhttps://hdl.handle.net/1885/733715066

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Open Access
Dorian Le Gallienne: Sonata (1950-51) - 1. Allegro moderato
Composer: Dorian Le Gallienne; Grafton-Greene, Michael
"Dorian Le Gallienne (1915-1963) was an influential teacher in Melbourne, and was spoken of very highly and with great affection by all who worked with him, including Don Banks, Keith Humble, James Penberthy and Helen Gifford. The composer Robert Hughes supplied this note for Sonata in the copy produced for the Australian Music Fund: The three movements of Sonata were composed during the latter part of 1950 and early in 1951. Although the composer had not written a finale, he permitted public performance of the completed movements as an unfinished sonata. It was played by David Fox at a concert of Le Gallienne's music in Melbourne on 9 July 1951. At that time, there was no doubt that he had planned a work in four movements, but there is no evidence that it was ever completed. No sketches for a finale could be found among the manuscripts collected after his death in 1963. Le Gallienne wasn't a pianist, and it-is - quite possible that he simply ran out of compositional steam while writing for an instrument with which he perhaps shared no strong affinity. The work functions surprisingly well in its incomplete state and lends a rather sombre air to the overall effect. The other factor might have been the substantial weight and nature of the second movement, intended originally as a scherzo, and which might have stolen the thunder from the intended finale. The writing is clean, linear and evocative of an orchestral palette, while the implied doublings and colouristic essays suggest that the composer's inner ear was active when composing this piece." -- Larry Sitsky
Open Access
Dorian Le Gallienne: Sonata (1950-51) - 2. Alla marcia
Composer: Dorian Le Gallienne; Grafton-Greene, Michael
"Dorian Le Gallienne (1915-1963) was an influential teacher in Melbourne, and was spoken of very highly and with great affection by all who worked with him, including Don Banks, Keith Humble, James Penberthy and Helen Gifford. The composer Robert Hughes supplied this note for Sonata in the copy produced for the Australian Music Fund: The three movements of Sonata were composed during the latter part of 1950 and early in 1951. Although the composer had not written a finale, he permitted public performance of the completed movements as an unfinished sonata. It was played by David Fox at a concert of Le Gallienne's music in Melbourne on 9 July 1951. At that time, there was no doubt that he had planned a work in four movements, but there is no evidence that it was ever completed. No sketches for a finale could be found among the manuscripts collected after his death in 1963. Le Gallienne wasn't a pianist, and it-is - quite possible that he simply ran out of compositional steam while writing for an instrument with which he perhaps shared no strong affinity. The work functions surprisingly well in its incomplete state and lends a rather sombre air to the overall effect. The other factor might have been the substantial weight and nature of the second movement, intended originally as a scherzo, and which might have stolen the thunder from the intended finale. The writing is clean, linear and evocative of an orchestral palette, while the implied doublings and colouristic essays suggest that the composer's inner ear was active when composing this piece." -- Larry Sitsky
Open Access
Dorian Le Gallienne: Sonata (1950-51) - 3. Molto lento
Composer: Dorian Le Gallienne; Grafton-Greene, Michael
"Dorian Le Gallienne (1915-1963) was an influential teacher in Melbourne, and was spoken of very highly and with great affection by all who worked with him, including Don Banks, Keith Humble, James Penberthy and Helen Gifford. The composer Robert Hughes supplied this note for Sonata in the copy produced for the Australian Music Fund: The three movements of Sonata were composed during the latter part of 1950 and early in 1951. Although the composer had not written a finale, he permitted public performance of the completed movements as an unfinished sonata. It was played by David Fox at a concert of Le Gallienne's music in Melbourne on 9 July 1951. At that time, there was no doubt that he had planned a work in four movements, but there is no evidence that it was ever completed. No sketches for a finale could be found among the manuscripts collected after his death in 1963. Le Gallienne wasn't a pianist, and it-is - quite possible that he simply ran out of compositional steam while writing for an instrument with which he perhaps shared no strong affinity. The work functions surprisingly well in its incomplete state and lends a rather sombre air to the overall effect. The other factor might have been the substantial weight and nature of the second movement, intended originally as a scherzo, and which might have stolen the thunder from the intended finale. The writing is clean, linear and evocative of an orchestral palette, while the implied doublings and colouristic essays suggest that the composer's inner ear was active when composing this piece." -- Larry Sitsky
Open Access
Miriam Hyde: Tap Tune (1952)
(1952) Composer: Miriam Hyde; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Miriam Hyde (b. 1913) has composed a great number of short pieces for the piano, many of them for her own use as a concert pianist, and this piece (marked allegretto giocoso) is obviously one of them. Her demands of the performer are of the late-romantic variety and mirrors her own approach to the keyboard. The composer supplied the following note: This is intended as a musical joke - an encore piece. The first eight melody notes were suggested by the tap dripping into a bath. After the second pause, the tap is turned on again and the water-level rises. Then the original tune makes a final appearance, a little enfeebled, missing a beat here and there.
Open Access
Richard Meale: Four Bagatelles (early 50s) - 3. Flowing
Composer: Richard Meale; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Richard Meale's Four Bagatelles began life as two bagatelles, which were then expanded by Meale into four. They date from the same period as Meale's Sonatina Patetica, although the first two bagatelles preceded Sonatina. Although student works, the bagatelles are highly polished miniatures with their own harmonic world. Each of them is based on a simple idea that is then thoroughly explored. While the harmonies are tonal, Meale is beginning to explore shifts into unrelated triads. The second bagatelle plays with bar durations involving five and seven. The third is canonic, built on a four note descending figure and ending with four voices. The last bagatelle is most substantial of the set, and perhaps the most melodic.
Open Access
Raymond Hanson: Preludes, Op 11 (1940-41) - 6
Composer: Raymond Hanson; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Raymond Hanson (1913-1976) composed the set of Preludes at the Burragorang Valley of the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, between December 1940 and January 1941. Hanson provided this series of wordpaintings of the pieces: 1. A peaceful valley with ribbon-river flanked by light-seeking trees and rocky mountain walls. 2. Age old granite hills where black-feet once made pathways. 3. Sunset, filmy rain makes curtain for the coming night. 4. Wind gusts tear at trees and make ordered crops obsequious. A menacing storm, leaving a hushed tranquillity imbued with the promise of nature's resurrection. 5. Lonely mountains, sentinels of time, stand proudly in the grey noon. 6. Dawn rises stirring the sleeping forest and the little creatures living within the shelter of the undergrowth. In the memory of any of us who were fortunate enough to have studied with and known Raymond (Ray to his friends), there is an image of a man who was kind, honest, full of integrity and humility; a man who cared for his pupils and for the future of music in this country. Hanson was unlucky enough to have been in the 'in between' generation; in the sense that he had shifted away from his conservative roots and teachers, yet hadn't shifted far enough in some ways, so that when there was a sudden surge of support and activity for Australian music during the '60s and '70s, Hanson was somehow overlooked as being part of a past generation. It is only now, far too late for Ray, that we are recognising his contribution. Part of Ray's bad luck was to have fallen victim of a cultural mini-McCarthyism in Australia, which targeted his genuine desire to bring art music to the trade union movement and to form an orchestra funded from trade union levies. This, when coupled with his belief in the need for cultural exchange with Russia, and his view that music was as a universal way of uniting people, caused Hanson to be seen as at least 'pink', if not an outright 'red'. This in turn affected his compositional prospects. His piano music is clearly that of a man who knows the keyboard. Hanson gave piano recitals and played standard repertoire as well as his own music. He had an easy, natural technique, without any undue movement or exaggerated mannerisms. Possessing a very fine ear, his playing constantly involved orchestration at the keyboard; one can hear this colouristic propensity at work in this very fine set of Preludes, with their word-paintings incorporated in the score. Since there was no composition tuition at the State Conservatorium in Sydney in those days, Hanson was employed to teach harmony and aural training, and he spent hours at the keyboard playing aural drill to students, mildly puzzled at how bad some people's ears were! Later in his career, he was allowed to teach what was then considered composition, but in reality was a historically driven style of harmony and counterpoint, as well as orchestration. Hanson had discovered Paul Hindemith's theoretical tracts, which for him pointed the way into a contemporary sound world that did not necessitate him disavowing his tonal roots. This is not to suggest that Hanson's music sounds like Hindemith - far from it. Hanson was actually closer to composers such as Sergei Prokofiev in his approach to the piano. Like many of his generation, one wishes that his output was larger, but teachers at the Conservatorium were paid for actual hours taught at that time; they were not salaried staff and had no superannuation benefits or anything else of that kind. It was really tough being a music teacher, even though superficially one had the status of being on the staff of a prestigious institution. Such matters did not change until the late '60s, after which time it became quite fashionable to actually employ composers as composers, instead of having them there but using them as aural drill teachers. Nevertheless, Hanson's contribution to the piano repertoire is very solid: apart from the set of Preludes, which are largescale virtuoso pieces and which work brilliantly as a cycle, there is fairly big Sonatina and a very fine Sonata, plus a set of Variations. Hanson's music is rugged, and reflects his difficult boyhood and the privations of the Great Depression, during which he earned his first pay-check at the age of 28, from the Army. Until then, he did odd and often unpleasant jobs, including being a sanitary carter in early twentieth century Sydney. His early compositions were from self-teaching, using his ear to remember his mother playing Bach and Chaminade. Apparently most of this juvenalia is lost, something that Ray would not have rued; he was always saying that young composers were far too eager to leap into print and get performed immediately. He never had any concern with being labelled 'Australian', and claimed not to know what this meant. However, Preludes were certainly inspired by a particular and specific landscape, although whether this is what makes them 'Australian' is debatable. That said, Preludes would still be very fine example of the genre without such knowledge. What is certain is that Hanson was imbued with a deep spirituality, and at one time in his life he even wanted to go to India as a missionary. While his piano music might not manifest these sentiments, they are nevertheless implicit. With it, there is a strong sense of a very flexible rhythm, which also belies Hanson's affection for jazz. While his music does not sound like jazz, there is nevertheless an attempt by the composer to capture jazz's spontaneity and rhythmic flexibility - something that is a core element of Hanson's music. Hanson was also certainly aware of the post-war avant-garde, yet did not wish to move in a direction that to him seemed more preoccupied with noise and technology than what he perceived as music. Similarly, Hanson remained resistant to the serialist vogue of the day. Ironically, he was instinctively correct, and the style pundits were wrong. Although recognition, commissions, recordings and awards came late in his life, at least Hanson lived to enjoy them, which is more than can be said of the generation that immediately preceded him.
Open Access
Raymond Hanson: Preludes, Op 11 (1940-41) - 2
Composer: Raymond Hanson; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Raymond Hanson (1913-1976) composed the set of Preludes at the Burragorang Valley of the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, between December 1940 and January 1941. Hanson provided this series of wordpaintings of the pieces: 1. A peaceful valley with ribbon-river flanked by light-seeking trees and rocky mountain walls. 2. Age old granite hills where black-feet once made pathways. 3. Sunset, filmy rain makes curtain for the coming night. 4. Wind gusts tear at trees and make ordered crops obsequious. A menacing storm, leaving a hushed tranquillity imbued with the promise of nature's resurrection. 5. Lonely mountains, sentinels of time, stand proudly in the grey noon. 6. Dawn rises stirring the sleeping forest and the little creatures living within the shelter of the undergrowth. In the memory of any of us who were fortunate enough to have studied with and known Raymond (Ray to his friends), there is an image of a man who was kind, honest, full of integrity and humility; a man who cared for his pupils and for the future of music in this country. Hanson was unlucky enough to have been in the 'in between' generation; in the sense that he had shifted away from his conservative roots and teachers, yet hadn't shifted far enough in some ways, so that when there was a sudden surge of support and activity for Australian music during the '60s and '70s, Hanson was somehow overlooked as being part of a past generation. It is only now, far too late for Ray, that we are recognising his contribution. Part of Ray's bad luck was to have fallen victim of a cultural mini-McCarthyism in Australia, which targeted his genuine desire to bring art music to the trade union movement and to form an orchestra funded from trade union levies. This, when coupled with his belief in the need for cultural exchange with Russia, and his view that music was as a universal way of uniting people, caused Hanson to be seen as at least 'pink', if not an outright 'red'. This in turn affected his compositional prospects. His piano music is clearly that of a man who knows the keyboard. Hanson gave piano recitals and played standard repertoire as well as his own music. He had an easy, natural technique, without any undue movement or exaggerated mannerisms. Possessing a very fine ear, his playing constantly involved orchestration at the keyboard; one can hear this colouristic propensity at work in this very fine set of Preludes, with their word-paintings incorporated in the score. Since there was no composition tuition at the State Conservatorium in Sydney in those days, Hanson was employed to teach harmony and aural training, and he spent hours at the keyboard playing aural drill to students, mildly puzzled at how bad some people's ears were! Later in his career, he was allowed to teach what was then considered composition, but in reality was a historically driven style of harmony and counterpoint, as well as orchestration. Hanson had discovered Paul Hindemith's theoretical tracts, which for him pointed the way into a contemporary sound world that did not necessitate him disavowing his tonal roots. This is not to suggest that Hanson's music sounds like Hindemith - far from it. Hanson was actually closer to composers such as Sergei Prokofiev in his approach to the piano. Like many of his generation, one wishes that his output was larger, but teachers at the Conservatorium were paid for actual hours taught at that time; they were not salaried staff and had no superannuation benefits or anything else of that kind. It was really tough being a music teacher, even though superficially one had the status of being on the staff of a prestigious institution. Such matters did not change until the late '60s, after which time it became quite fashionable to actually employ composers as composers, instead of having them there but using them as aural drill teachers. Nevertheless, Hanson's contribution to the piano repertoire is very solid: apart from the set of Preludes, which are largescale virtuoso pieces and which work brilliantly as a cycle, there is fairly big Sonatina and a very fine Sonata, plus a set of Variations. Hanson's music is rugged, and reflects his difficult boyhood and the privations of the Great Depression, during which he earned his first pay-check at the age of 28, from the Army. Until then, he did odd and often unpleasant jobs, including being a sanitary carter in early twentieth century Sydney. His early compositions were from self-teaching, using his ear to remember his mother playing Bach and Chaminade. Apparently most of this juvenalia is lost, something that Ray would not have rued; he was always saying that young composers were far too eager to leap into print and get performed immediately. He never had any concern with being labelled 'Australian', and claimed not to know what this meant. However, Preludes were certainly inspired by a particular and specific landscape, although whether this is what makes them 'Australian' is debatable. That said, Preludes would still be very fine example of the genre without such knowledge. What is certain is that Hanson was imbued with a deep spirituality, and at one time in his life he even wanted to go to India as a missionary. While his piano music might not manifest these sentiments, they are nevertheless implicit. With it, there is a strong sense of a very flexible rhythm, which also belies Hanson's affection for jazz. While his music does not sound like jazz, there is nevertheless an attempt by the composer to capture jazz's spontaneity and rhythmic flexibility - something that is a core element of Hanson's music. Hanson was also certainly aware of the post-war avant-garde, yet did not wish to move in a direction that to him seemed more preoccupied with noise and technology than what he perceived as music. Similarly, Hanson remained resistant to the serialist vogue of the day. Ironically, he was instinctively correct, and the style pundits were wrong. Although recognition, commissions, recordings and awards came late in his life, at least Hanson lived to enjoy them, which is more than can be said of the generation that immediately preceded him.
Open Access
Raymond Hanson: Preludes, Op 11 (1940-41) - 3
Composer: Raymond Hanson; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Raymond Hanson (1913-1976) composed the set of Preludes at the Burragorang Valley of the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, between December 1940 and January 1941. Hanson provided this series of wordpaintings of the pieces: 1. A peaceful valley with ribbon-river flanked by light-seeking trees and rocky mountain walls. 2. Age old granite hills where black-feet once made pathways. 3. Sunset, filmy rain makes curtain for the coming night. 4. Wind gusts tear at trees and make ordered crops obsequious. A menacing storm, leaving a hushed tranquillity imbued with the promise of nature's resurrection. 5. Lonely mountains, sentinels of time, stand proudly in the grey noon. 6. Dawn rises stirring the sleeping forest and the little creatures living within the shelter of the undergrowth. In the memory of any of us who were fortunate enough to have studied with and known Raymond (Ray to his friends), there is an image of a man who was kind, honest, full of integrity and humility; a man who cared for his pupils and for the future of music in this country. Hanson was unlucky enough to have been in the 'in between' generation; in the sense that he had shifted away from his conservative roots and teachers, yet hadn't shifted far enough in some ways, so that when there was a sudden surge of support and activity for Australian music during the '60s and '70s, Hanson was somehow overlooked as being part of a past generation. It is only now, far too late for Ray, that we are recognising his contribution. Part of Ray's bad luck was to have fallen victim of a cultural mini-McCarthyism in Australia, which targeted his genuine desire to bring art music to the trade union movement and to form an orchestra funded from trade union levies. This, when coupled with his belief in the need for cultural exchange with Russia, and his view that music was as a universal way of uniting people, caused Hanson to be seen as at least 'pink', if not an outright 'red'. This in turn affected his compositional prospects. His piano music is clearly that of a man who knows the keyboard. Hanson gave piano recitals and played standard repertoire as well as his own music. He had an easy, natural technique, without any undue movement or exaggerated mannerisms. Possessing a very fine ear, his playing constantly involved orchestration at the keyboard; one can hear this colouristic propensity at work in this very fine set of Preludes, with their word-paintings incorporated in the score. Since there was no composition tuition at the State Conservatorium in Sydney in those days, Hanson was employed to teach harmony and aural training, and he spent hours at the keyboard playing aural drill to students, mildly puzzled at how bad some people's ears were! Later in his career, he was allowed to teach what was then considered composition, but in reality was a historically driven style of harmony and counterpoint, as well as orchestration. Hanson had discovered Paul Hindemith's theoretical tracts, which for him pointed the way into a contemporary sound world that did not necessitate him disavowing his tonal roots. This is not to suggest that Hanson's music sounds like Hindemith - far from it. Hanson was actually closer to composers such as Sergei Prokofiev in his approach to the piano. Like many of his generation, one wishes that his output was larger, but teachers at the Conservatorium were paid for actual hours taught at that time; they were not salaried staff and had no superannuation benefits or anything else of that kind. It was really tough being a music teacher, even though superficially one had the status of being on the staff of a prestigious institution. Such matters did not change until the late '60s, after which time it became quite fashionable to actually employ composers as composers, instead of having them there but using them as aural drill teachers. Nevertheless, Hanson's contribution to the piano repertoire is very solid: apart from the set of Preludes, which are largescale virtuoso pieces and which work brilliantly as a cycle, there is fairly big Sonatina and a very fine Sonata, plus a set of Variations. Hanson's music is rugged, and reflects his difficult boyhood and the privations of the Great Depression, during which he earned his first pay-check at the age of 28, from the Army. Until then, he did odd and often unpleasant jobs, including being a sanitary carter in early twentieth century Sydney. His early compositions were from self-teaching, using his ear to remember his mother playing Bach and Chaminade. Apparently most of this juvenalia is lost, something that Ray would not have rued; he was always saying that young composers were far too eager to leap into print and get performed immediately. He never had any concern with being labelled 'Australian', and claimed not to know what this meant. However, Preludes were certainly inspired by a particular and specific landscape, although whether this is what makes them 'Australian' is debatable. That said, Preludes would still be very fine example of the genre without such knowledge. What is certain is that Hanson was imbued with a deep spirituality, and at one time in his life he even wanted to go to India as a missionary. While his piano music might not manifest these sentiments, they are nevertheless implicit. With it, there is a strong sense of a very flexible rhythm, which also belies Hanson's affection for jazz. While his music does not sound like jazz, there is nevertheless an attempt by the composer to capture jazz's spontaneity and rhythmic flexibility - something that is a core element of Hanson's music. Hanson was also certainly aware of the post-war avant-garde, yet did not wish to move in a direction that to him seemed more preoccupied with noise and technology than what he perceived as music. Similarly, Hanson remained resistant to the serialist vogue of the day. Ironically, he was instinctively correct, and the style pundits were wrong. Although recognition, commissions, recordings and awards came late in his life, at least Hanson lived to enjoy them, which is more than can be said of the generation that immediately preceded him.
Open Access
Richard Meale: Four Bagatelles (early 50s) - 4. Cantabile
Composer: Richard Meale; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Richard Meale's Four Bagatelles began life as two bagatelles, which were then expanded by Meale into four. They date from the same period as Meale's Sonatina Patetica, although the first two bagatelles preceded Sonatina. Although student works, the bagatelles are highly polished miniatures with their own harmonic world. Each of them is based on a simple idea that is then thoroughly explored. While the harmonies are tonal, Meale is beginning to explore shifts into unrelated triads. The second bagatelle plays with bar durations involving five and seven. The third is canonic, built on a four note descending figure and ending with four voices. The last bagatelle is most substantial of the set, and perhaps the most melodic.
Open Access
Richard Meale: Four Bagatelles (early 50s) - 2. Moderato
Composer: Richard Meale; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Richard Meale's Four Bagatelles began life as two bagatelles, which were then expanded by Meale into four. They date from the same period as Meale's Sonatina Patetica, although the first two bagatelles preceded Sonatina. Although student works, the bagatelles are highly polished miniatures with their own harmonic world. Each of them is based on a simple idea that is then thoroughly explored. While the harmonies are tonal, Meale is beginning to explore shifts into unrelated triads. The second bagatelle plays with bar durations involving five and seven. The third is canonic, built on a four note descending figure and ending with four voices. The last bagatelle is most substantial of the set, and perhaps the most melodic.
Open Access
Richard Meale: Four Bagatelles (early 50s) - 1. Andante
Composer: Richard Meale; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Richard Meale's Four Bagatelles began life as two bagatelles, which were then expanded by Meale into four. They date from the same period as Meale's Sonatina Patetica, although the first two bagatelles preceded Sonatina. Although student works, the bagatelles are highly polished miniatures with their own harmonic world. Each of them is based on a simple idea that is then thoroughly explored. While the harmonies are tonal, Meale is beginning to explore shifts into unrelated triads. The second bagatelle plays with bar durations involving five and seven. The third is canonic, built on a four note descending figure and ending with four voices. The last bagatelle is most substantial of the set, and perhaps the most melodic.
Open Access
Raymond Hanson: Preludes, Op 11 (1940-41) - 5
Composer: Raymond Hanson; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Raymond Hanson (1913-1976) composed the set of Preludes at the Burragorang Valley of the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, between December 1940 and January 1941. Hanson provided this series of wordpaintings of the pieces: 1. A peaceful valley with ribbon-river flanked by light-seeking trees and rocky mountain walls. 2. Age old granite hills where black-feet once made pathways. 3. Sunset, filmy rain makes curtain for the coming night. 4. Wind gusts tear at trees and make ordered crops obsequious. A menacing storm, leaving a hushed tranquillity imbued with the promise of nature's resurrection. 5. Lonely mountains, sentinels of time, stand proudly in the grey noon. 6. Dawn rises stirring the sleeping forest and the little creatures living within the shelter of the undergrowth. In the memory of any of us who were fortunate enough to have studied with and known Raymond (Ray to his friends), there is an image of a man who was kind, honest, full of integrity and humility; a man who cared for his pupils and for the future of music in this country. Hanson was unlucky enough to have been in the 'in between' generation; in the sense that he had shifted away from his conservative roots and teachers, yet hadn't shifted far enough in some ways, so that when there was a sudden surge of support and activity for Australian music during the '60s and '70s, Hanson was somehow overlooked as being part of a past generation. It is only now, far too late for Ray, that we are recognising his contribution. Part of Ray's bad luck was to have fallen victim of a cultural mini-McCarthyism in Australia, which targeted his genuine desire to bring art music to the trade union movement and to form an orchestra funded from trade union levies. This, when coupled with his belief in the need for cultural exchange with Russia, and his view that music was as a universal way of uniting people, caused Hanson to be seen as at least 'pink', if not an outright 'red'. This in turn affected his compositional prospects. His piano music is clearly that of a man who knows the keyboard. Hanson gave piano recitals and played standard repertoire as well as his own music. He had an easy, natural technique, without any undue movement or exaggerated mannerisms. Possessing a very fine ear, his playing constantly involved orchestration at the keyboard; one can hear this colouristic propensity at work in this very fine set of Preludes, with their word-paintings incorporated in the score. Since there was no composition tuition at the State Conservatorium in Sydney in those days, Hanson was employed to teach harmony and aural training, and he spent hours at the keyboard playing aural drill to students, mildly puzzled at how bad some people's ears were! Later in his career, he was allowed to teach what was then considered composition, but in reality was a historically driven style of harmony and counterpoint, as well as orchestration. Hanson had discovered Paul Hindemith's theoretical tracts, which for him pointed the way into a contemporary sound world that did not necessitate him disavowing his tonal roots. This is not to suggest that Hanson's music sounds like Hindemith - far from it. Hanson was actually closer to composers such as Sergei Prokofiev in his approach to the piano. Like many of his generation, one wishes that his output was larger, but teachers at the Conservatorium were paid for actual hours taught at that time; they were not salaried staff and had no superannuation benefits or anything else of that kind. It was really tough being a music teacher, even though superficially one had the status of being on the staff of a prestigious institution. Such matters did not change until the late '60s, after which time it became quite fashionable to actually employ composers as composers, instead of having them there but using them as aural drill teachers. Nevertheless, Hanson's contribution to the piano repertoire is very solid: apart from the set of Preludes, which are largescale virtuoso pieces and which work brilliantly as a cycle, there is fairly big Sonatina and a very fine Sonata, plus a set of Variations. Hanson's music is rugged, and reflects his difficult boyhood and the privations of the Great Depression, during which he earned his first pay-check at the age of 28, from the Army. Until then, he did odd and often unpleasant jobs, including being a sanitary carter in early twentieth century Sydney. His early compositions were from self-teaching, using his ear to remember his mother playing Bach and Chaminade. Apparently most of this juvenalia is lost, something that Ray would not have rued; he was always saying that young composers were far too eager to leap into print and get performed immediately. He never had any concern with being labelled 'Australian', and claimed not to know what this meant. However, Preludes were certainly inspired by a particular and specific landscape, although whether this is what makes them 'Australian' is debatable. That said, Preludes would still be very fine example of the genre without such knowledge. What is certain is that Hanson was imbued with a deep spirituality, and at one time in his life he even wanted to go to India as a missionary. While his piano music might not manifest these sentiments, they are nevertheless implicit. With it, there is a strong sense of a very flexible rhythm, which also belies Hanson's affection for jazz. While his music does not sound like jazz, there is nevertheless an attempt by the composer to capture jazz's spontaneity and rhythmic flexibility - something that is a core element of Hanson's music. Hanson was also certainly aware of the post-war avant-garde, yet did not wish to move in a direction that to him seemed more preoccupied with noise and technology than what he perceived as music. Similarly, Hanson remained resistant to the serialist vogue of the day. Ironically, he was instinctively correct, and the style pundits were wrong. Although recognition, commissions, recordings and awards came late in his life, at least Hanson lived to enjoy them, which is more than can be said of the generation that immediately preceded him.
Open Access
Raymond Hanson: Preludes, Op 11 (1940-41) - 4
Composer: Raymond Hanson; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Raymond Hanson (1913-1976) composed the set of Preludes at the Burragorang Valley of the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, between December 1940 and January 1941. Hanson provided this series of wordpaintings of the pieces: 1. A peaceful valley with ribbon-river flanked by light-seeking trees and rocky mountain walls. 2. Age old granite hills where black-feet once made pathways. 3. Sunset, filmy rain makes curtain for the coming night. 4. Wind gusts tear at trees and make ordered crops obsequious. A menacing storm, leaving a hushed tranquillity imbued with the promise of nature's resurrection. 5. Lonely mountains, sentinels of time, stand proudly in the grey noon. 6. Dawn rises stirring the sleeping forest and the little creatures living within the shelter of the undergrowth. In the memory of any of us who were fortunate enough to have studied with and known Raymond (Ray to his friends), there is an image of a man who was kind, honest, full of integrity and humility; a man who cared for his pupils and for the future of music in this country. Hanson was unlucky enough to have been in the 'in between' generation; in the sense that he had shifted away from his conservative roots and teachers, yet hadn't shifted far enough in some ways, so that when there was a sudden surge of support and activity for Australian music during the '60s and '70s, Hanson was somehow overlooked as being part of a past generation. It is only now, far too late for Ray, that we are recognising his contribution. Part of Ray's bad luck was to have fallen victim of a cultural mini-McCarthyism in Australia, which targeted his genuine desire to bring art music to the trade union movement and to form an orchestra funded from trade union levies. This, when coupled with his belief in the need for cultural exchange with Russia, and his view that music was as a universal way of uniting people, caused Hanson to be seen as at least 'pink', if not an outright 'red'. This in turn affected his compositional prospects. His piano music is clearly that of a man who knows the keyboard. Hanson gave piano recitals and played standard repertoire as well as his own music. He had an easy, natural technique, without any undue movement or exaggerated mannerisms. Possessing a very fine ear, his playing constantly involved orchestration at the keyboard; one can hear this colouristic propensity at work in this very fine set of Preludes, with their word-paintings incorporated in the score. Since there was no composition tuition at the State Conservatorium in Sydney in those days, Hanson was employed to teach harmony and aural training, and he spent hours at the keyboard playing aural drill to students, mildly puzzled at how bad some people's ears were! Later in his career, he was allowed to teach what was then considered composition, but in reality was a historically driven style of harmony and counterpoint, as well as orchestration. Hanson had discovered Paul Hindemith's theoretical tracts, which for him pointed the way into a contemporary sound world that did not necessitate him disavowing his tonal roots. This is not to suggest that Hanson's music sounds like Hindemith - far from it. Hanson was actually closer to composers such as Sergei Prokofiev in his approach to the piano. Like many of his generation, one wishes that his output was larger, but teachers at the Conservatorium were paid for actual hours taught at that time; they were not salaried staff and had no superannuation benefits or anything else of that kind. It was really tough being a music teacher, even though superficially one had the status of being on the staff of a prestigious institution. Such matters did not change until the late '60s, after which time it became quite fashionable to actually employ composers as composers, instead of having them there but using them as aural drill teachers. Nevertheless, Hanson's contribution to the piano repertoire is very solid: apart from the set of Preludes, which are largescale virtuoso pieces and which work brilliantly as a cycle, there is fairly big Sonatina and a very fine Sonata, plus a set of Variations. Hanson's music is rugged, and reflects his difficult boyhood and the privations of the Great Depression, during which he earned his first pay-check at the age of 28, from the Army. Until then, he did odd and often unpleasant jobs, including being a sanitary carter in early twentieth century Sydney. His early compositions were from self-teaching, using his ear to remember his mother playing Bach and Chaminade. Apparently most of this juvenalia is lost, something that Ray would not have rued; he was always saying that young composers were far too eager to leap into print and get performed immediately. He never had any concern with being labelled 'Australian', and claimed not to know what this meant. However, Preludes were certainly inspired by a particular and specific landscape, although whether this is what makes them 'Australian' is debatable. That said, Preludes would still be very fine example of the genre without such knowledge. What is certain is that Hanson was imbued with a deep spirituality, and at one time in his life he even wanted to go to India as a missionary. While his piano music might not manifest these sentiments, they are nevertheless implicit. With it, there is a strong sense of a very flexible rhythm, which also belies Hanson's affection for jazz. While his music does not sound like jazz, there is nevertheless an attempt by the composer to capture jazz's spontaneity and rhythmic flexibility - something that is a core element of Hanson's music. Hanson was also certainly aware of the post-war avant-garde, yet did not wish to move in a direction that to him seemed more preoccupied with noise and technology than what he perceived as music. Similarly, Hanson remained resistant to the serialist vogue of the day. Ironically, he was instinctively correct, and the style pundits were wrong. Although recognition, commissions, recordings and awards came late in his life, at least Hanson lived to enjoy them, which is more than can be said of the generation that immediately preceded him.
Open Access
Raymond Hanson: Preludes, Op 11 (1940-41) - 1
Composer: Raymond Hanson; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Raymond Hanson (1913-1976) composed the set of Preludes at the Burragorang Valley of the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, between December 1940 and January 1941. Hanson provided this series of wordpaintings of the pieces: 1. A peaceful valley with ribbon-river flanked by light-seeking trees and rocky mountain walls. 2. Age old granite hills where black-feet once made pathways. 3. Sunset, filmy rain makes curtain for the coming night. 4. Wind gusts tear at trees and make ordered crops obsequious. A menacing storm, leaving a hushed tranquillity imbued with the promise of nature's resurrection. 5. Lonely mountains, sentinels of time, stand proudly in the grey noon. 6. Dawn rises stirring the sleeping forest and the little creatures living within the shelter of the undergrowth. In the memory of any of us who were fortunate enough to have studied with and known Raymond (Ray to his friends), there is an image of a man who was kind, honest, full of integrity and humility; a man who cared for his pupils and for the future of music in this country. Hanson was unlucky enough to have been in the 'in between' generation; in the sense that he had shifted away from his conservative roots and teachers, yet hadn't shifted far enough in some ways, so that when there was a sudden surge of support and activity for Australian music during the '60s and '70s, Hanson was somehow overlooked as being part of a past generation. It is only now, far too late for Ray, that we are recognising his contribution. Part of Ray's bad luck was to have fallen victim of a cultural mini-McCarthyism in Australia, which targeted his genuine desire to bring art music to the trade union movement and to form an orchestra funded from trade union levies. This, when coupled with his belief in the need for cultural exchange with Russia, and his view that music was as a universal way of uniting people, caused Hanson to be seen as at least 'pink', if not an outright 'red'. This in turn affected his compositional prospects. His piano music is clearly that of a man who knows the keyboard. Hanson gave piano recitals and played standard repertoire as well as his own music. He had an easy, natural technique, without any undue movement or exaggerated mannerisms. Possessing a very fine ear, his playing constantly involved orchestration at the keyboard; one can hear this colouristic propensity at work in this very fine set of Preludes, with their word-paintings incorporated in the score. Since there was no composition tuition at the State Conservatorium in Sydney in those days, Hanson was employed to teach harmony and aural training, and he spent hours at the keyboard playing aural drill to students, mildly puzzled at how bad some people's ears were! Later in his career, he was allowed to teach what was then considered composition, but in reality was a historically driven style of harmony and counterpoint, as well as orchestration. Hanson had discovered Paul Hindemith's theoretical tracts, which for him pointed the way into a contemporary sound world that did not necessitate him disavowing his tonal roots. This is not to suggest that Hanson's music sounds like Hindemith - far from it. Hanson was actually closer to composers such as Sergei Prokofiev in his approach to the piano. Like many of his generation, one wishes that his output was larger, but teachers at the Conservatorium were paid for actual hours taught at that time; they were not salaried staff and had no superannuation benefits or anything else of that kind. It was really tough being a music teacher, even though superficially one had the status of being on the staff of a prestigious institution. Such matters did not change until the late '60s, after which time it became quite fashionable to actually employ composers as composers, instead of having them there but using them as aural drill teachers. Nevertheless, Hanson's contribution to the piano repertoire is very solid: apart from the set of Preludes, which are largescale virtuoso pieces and which work brilliantly as a cycle, there is fairly big Sonatina and a very fine Sonata, plus a set of Variations. Hanson's music is rugged, and reflects his difficult boyhood and the privations of the Great Depression, during which he earned his first pay-check at the age of 28, from the Army. Until then, he did odd and often unpleasant jobs, including being a sanitary carter in early twentieth century Sydney. His early compositions were from self-teaching, using his ear to remember his mother playing Bach and Chaminade. Apparently most of this juvenalia is lost, something that Ray would not have rued; he was always saying that young composers were far too eager to leap into print and get performed immediately. He never had any concern with being labelled 'Australian', and claimed not to know what this meant. However, Preludes were certainly inspired by a particular and specific landscape, although whether this is what makes them 'Australian' is debatable. That said, Preludes would still be very fine example of the genre without such knowledge. What is certain is that Hanson was imbued with a deep spirituality, and at one time in his life he even wanted to go to India as a missionary. While his piano music might not manifest these sentiments, they are nevertheless implicit. With it, there is a strong sense of a very flexible rhythm, which also belies Hanson's affection for jazz. While his music does not sound like jazz, there is nevertheless an attempt by the composer to capture jazz's spontaneity and rhythmic flexibility - something that is a core element of Hanson's music. Hanson was also certainly aware of the post-war avant-garde, yet did not wish to move in a direction that to him seemed more preoccupied with noise and technology than what he perceived as music. Similarly, Hanson remained resistant to the serialist vogue of the day. Ironically, he was instinctively correct, and the style pundits were wrong. Although recognition, commissions, recordings and awards came late in his life, at least Hanson lived to enjoy them, which is more than can be said of the generation that immediately preceded him.
Open Access
Percy Grainger: Colonial Song (1911)
(1911) Composer: Percy Grainger; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Composed by Percy Grainger (1882-1961) in 1911, Colonial Song is one of his best known works, and exists in various versions, some incorporating voices. Carrying the annotation 'Composed as a yule-tide gift for mother, 1911', the score is marked 'Rich, Broad and Vibrating, with Ample Swells'. Perhaps not surprisingly, then, Colonial Song is written in a rather sentimental vein, and echoes Grainger's love of a certain species of folksong from the British Isles. The composer's treatment of the melody and harmony is quite closely akin to his settings of some folksongs from that part of the world. Grainger himself supplied the following note: No traditional tunes of any kind are made use of in this piece, in which I have wished to express feelings aroused by thoughts of the scenery and people of my native land, (Australia), and also to voice a certain kind of emotion that seems to me not untypical of native-born Colonials in general. Perhaps it is not unnatural that people living more or less lonelily [sic] in vast virgin countries and struggling against natural and climatic hardships (rather than against the more actively and dramaticly [sic] exciting counter wills of their fellow men, as in more thickly populated lands, should run largely to that patiently yearning, inactive sentimental wistfulness that we find so touchingly expressed in much American art; for instance in Mark Twain's 'Huckleberry Finn', and in Stephen C. Foster's Adorable Songs, 'My Old Kentucky Home', 'Old Folks at Home', etc. I have also noticed curious, almost Italian-like musical tendencies in brass band performances and ways of singing in Australia (such as a preference for richness and intensity of tone and soulful breadth of phrasing over more subtly and sensitively varied delicacies of expression), which are also reflected here.
Open Access
Don Banks: Sonatina in C# minor (late 40s) - 1. Allegro con spirito - Andante
Composer: Don Banks; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Sonatina dates from the period just before Don Banks (1923-1980) left Australia in 1950 to study abroad. It is a student work, but fascinating as it encapsulates many of the traits of the mature composer: a fastidious craftsmanship; careful control over form; and the presence of a jazz beat lurking somewhere behind the fagade. The first movement is in a five-part form - the first two ideas of the work are in allegro and andante tempi, respectively, and are easy to identify. In the middle, the tempo speeds up into a vivace and then, via a cantabile, the first idea and tempo reappear. The second movement is a free-flowing counterpoint, suggesting solo instruments and finally strongly reminiscent of the kind of jazz piano that Banks himself played at the time. The last movement is closer to a rondo form, in that the opening idea reappears between incursions of other contrasting episodes; here classical counterpoint and jazz rub shoulders with a short venture into something approaching a Webernian sparseness. Sonatina is quite expansive and could almost be labelled a sonata in its scope. Banks, together with Richard Meale and Keith Humble, went on to become the leading Australian composers of their generation.
Open Access
Don Banks: Sonatina in C# minor (late 40s) - 2. Largo con espressione
Composer: Don Banks; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Sonatina dates from the period just before Don Banks (1923-1980) left Australia in 1950 to study abroad. It is a student work, but fascinating as it encapsulates many of the traits of the mature composer: a fastidious craftsmanship; careful control over form; and the presence of a jazz beat lurking somewhere behind the fagade. The first movement is in a five-part form - the first two ideas of the work are in allegro and andante tempi, respectively, and are easy to identify. In the middle, the tempo speeds up into a vivace and then, via a cantabile, the first idea and tempo reappear. The second movement is a free-flowing counterpoint, suggesting solo instruments and finally strongly reminiscent of the kind of jazz piano that Banks himself played at the time. The last movement is closer to a rondo form, in that the opening idea reappears between incursions of other contrasting episodes; here classical counterpoint and jazz rub shoulders with a short venture into something approaching a Webernian sparseness. Sonatina is quite expansive and could almost be labelled a sonata in its scope. Banks, together with Richard Meale and Keith Humble, went on to become the leading Australian composers of their generation.
Open Access
Don Banks: Sonatina in C# minor (late 40s) - 3. Risoluto - Lamentavole
Composer: Don Banks; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Sonatina dates from the period just before Don Banks (1923-1980) left Australia in 1950 to study abroad. It is a student work, but fascinating as it encapsulates many of the traits of the mature composer: a fastidious craftsmanship; careful control over form; and the presence of a jazz beat lurking somewhere behind the fagade. The first movement is in a five-part form - the first two ideas of the work are in allegro and andante tempi, respectively, and are easy to identify. In the middle, the tempo speeds up into a vivace and then, via a cantabile, the first idea and tempo reappear. The second movement is a free-flowing counterpoint, suggesting solo instruments and finally strongly reminiscent of the kind of jazz piano that Banks himself played at the time. The last movement is closer to a rondo form, in that the opening idea reappears between incursions of other contrasting episodes; here classical counterpoint and jazz rub shoulders with a short venture into something approaching a Webernian sparseness. Sonatina is quite expansive and could almost be labelled a sonata in its scope. Banks, together with Richard Meale and Keith Humble, went on to become the leading Australian composers of their generation.
Open Access
Keith Humble: Three Little Pieces (early 50s) - 1. Intermezzo
Composer: Keith Humble; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Keith Humble (1927-1995) composed these aphoristic pieces and they are roughly contemporary with the Banks and Meale works featured here. They stem from the early '50s and are the beginning of Humble's lifelong fascination with the Second Viennese School. The pieces possible represent the first Australian excursion into serialism and could therefore be doubly important. The lyrical Intermezzo suggests Brahms - and via Brahms to Schoenberg - and is the most substantial of the three pieces. The so-called Waltz is a quirky little piece, which occasionally only lapses into a three-beat feel. Here Humble has moved away from Schoenberg and closer to Webern. Both the second and third pieces have a strong feel of pulse. The third piece is almost pure Webern in the sense that it is very economical and muscular, with measured silences. It is already close to the world of Humble's First Piano Sonata. Humble proved to become a driving force in Australia's tertiary educational system, as well as a constantly active composer, pianist and conductor. He formed and led Australia's first ensemble exclusively devoted to contemporary music, known as ACME (Australian Contemporary Music Ensemble).
Open Access
Keith Humble: Three Little Pieces (early 50s) - 3. Finale
Composer: Keith Humble; Grafton-Greene, Michael
Keith Humble (1927-1995) composed these aphoristic pieces and they are roughly contemporary with the Banks and Meale works featured here. They stem from the early '50s and are the beginning of Humble's lifelong fascination with the Second Viennese School. The pieces possible represent the first Australian excursion into serialism and could therefore be doubly important. The lyrical Intermezzo suggests Brahms - and via Brahms to Schoenberg - and is the most substantial of the three pieces. The so-called Waltz is a quirky little piece, which occasionally only lapses into a three-beat feel. Here Humble has moved away from Schoenberg and closer to Webern. Both the second and third pieces have a strong feel of pulse. The third piece is almost pure Webern in the sense that it is very economical and muscular, with measured silences. It is already close to the world of Humble's First Piano Sonata. Humble proved to become a driving force in Australia's tertiary educational system, as well as a constantly active composer, pianist and conductor. He formed and led Australia's first ensemble exclusively devoted to contemporary music, known as ACME (Australian Contemporary Music Ensemble).

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