A night of music that was philosophical, lyrical, and highly palatable.
Memory, the experience of the past being retrieved, reconstructed, and relished by the mind, is always about echoes and reverberations across time. It is the mind’s continual rewriting of the past: two points separated in time, yet intersecting and overlapping, reunited by the device of memory.
The programming of Aurora Orchestra: Memory with Brett Dean and Lotte Betts-Dean made this idea unmistakably clear. It was not only about selecting songs that explicitly speak of memory, but also about tracing echoes through time itself, from Ravel’s echoing of Couperin, from György Kurtág’s tribute to Robert Klein and Joannis Pilinszky, and through the thematic connection between Kurtág and Charles Ives’ compositions. These echoes also appeared in musical motifs and tonalities, as well as in the iteration of repertoire, with the same composer’s work performed twice and sometimes placed both at the beginning and the end of the concert. An echo of time.
The night opened with Charles Ives’ Memories, arranged by Sebastian Gottschick. The contrast between the two songs, Very Pleasant, light-hearted and playful, and Rather Sad, as its title suggests, created a wonderful juxtaposition in colour that immediately set the tone for the evening. From there, the curation expanded into Baroque music such as Couperin, while also embracing contemporary rearrangements of recent popular music, including Radiohead’s Harry Patch (In Memory Of). The programme then led us into more expansive and philosophical territory: the grand questions of life in Mieczysław Weinberg’s Marta’s Aria from The Passenger; an exploration of the modern psyche through György Kurtág’s Kafka Fragments; and the melancholic lyricism of Nadia Boulanger’s Versailles. Beyond musical versatility and the echoing of motifs, the curation offered a rich literary exploration of memory itself: memory as nostalgia, memory as longing for the loved one, memory as both personal and collective, and memory as a hopeful gaze towards the future.
The repertoire was curated in a way that felt highly accessible to the audience; even those unfamiliar with classical or contemporary music could enjoy it. The programme resembled a rich tapas spread, composed of distinctive yet carefully crafted small dishes. Each song or instrumental piece lasted only a few minutes, creating a constant renewal of curiosity and attention. This approach allowed for strong contrasts between pieces, as well as a vivid range of colours and emotions, from light-hearted playfulness to weighty, grand arias; from Kafkaesque intensity to hopefulness and joy.
Through the courage of presenting such a wide-ranging programme, spanning cultures, languages, and stretching across time, Lotte Betts-Dean and Brett Dean proved themselves to be audacious and masterful musicians, as well as thoughtful curators of a contemporary musical experience marked by forward vision and sensitivity to the audience of their time.