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In
this section you will find a selection of both positive and negative reviews
of my music. Some of them are amusing, some vindictive, some thought-provoking.
note:
arranged alphabetically in order of composition title.
| A
Symphony of Modern Objects (Symphony No. 1) |
CALL it the year's most innovative concert: two world premieres
came from the splendid Australian Youth Orchestra and the first-rate Sydney
Philharmonia Choir under the excellent conductor Thomas Woods in the Opera
House last week.
Matthew Hindson's A Symphony Of Modern Objects was more
like four tone poems (Silicon Revolution; Mind Body Spirit Wallet; Twisted
Ladders, Vietnam War Memorial) captivating music, sometimes brittle, dramatic,
syncopated, ironic. - Fred Blanks,
North Shore Times, 6 August 2003, page 19.
In contrast to Tavener's mystical timelessness [in Lament
for Jerusalem],
Matthew Hindson's Symphony of Modern Objects is firmly
rooted in the contemporary world. The frenetic and episodic first movement
and the quirky, skittish, string-laden third movement (Copland's Appalachian
Spring meets Steve Reich) are colourful depictions of the computer
and biotech revolutions respectively, while the lyrical second movement
is a delightfully ironic take on New Age music. Only the final movement
is a disappointment, being unwieldy and superficial with empty rhetoric
displacing genuine emotion.
Nonetheless, Hindson displays virtuosity in his orchestration, making
imaginative use of the orchestral palette. The Australian Youth Orchestra
was equal to the demands the composer unleashed on them, playing the challenging
and complex score with panache and assurance. We are fortunate to have
a youth orchestra of such a high calibre. Murray
Black, The Australian,
28 July 2003, page 7.
This program by Sydney Philharmonia with the Australian
Youth Orchestra under Thomas Woods brought together two premieres, a
Symphony of Modern Objects by a young composer, and a Lament
for eternal objects by an older one.
The Lament spoke of discord but was more symphonious:
the symphony, though it used a unifying form, was the more fractured.
The symphony was Matthew Hindson's first (whether this
was actually the premiere was disputed by some). Its first movement, Silicon
Revolution, began with bold juxtapositions of opposites: big brass chords
and flutes babbling like satellite signals, justifying the evocation of
"objects" in the title, though perhaps the sense of just being
about to get going lasted a little long.
The second movement, an affectionate churning of cliches,
was called Mind Body Spirit Wallet. I kept waiting for the entrance of
the wallet - Hindson's heart didn't seem to be in the New Age. The Twisted
Ladder of the third movement referred to DNA and the movement was a spiralling
scherzo of modern popular rhythmic shifts.
The last movement, Vietnam War Memorial, was deliberately
and unavoidably naive; Hindson would have been about seven when Saigon
fell. After a plangent wailing oboe solo, Hindson mixed a Vietnamese fiddle
tune with pictorial war music, returning emphatically to the Vietnamese
tune in G string unison. Though simple, even simplistic, it seemed born
of sound expressive instincts. Peter MacCallum,
The Sydney Morning Herald, 28 July 2003.
"The brave new world of pianism was invaded with
all guns blazing by a brilliant Simon Docking on Sunday before his imminent
flight (as in fleeing as well as flying) to America to advance his career...
my favourite among the five premieres he expounded was AK-47 (1994)
by Matthew Hindson, a piece (with optional electronic bass drum, an option
accepted here) that sounds as if Khachaturian may have thought of it while
primed with vodka and facing a Russian firing squad. This had wit."
- Fred Blanks, The Sydney Morning Herald,
16 August 1994.
PROGRAMS of contemporary music concerts often have nothing
in common except the fact that most of the pieces are new or newish. Not
this time.
...
More silence - to be brutally dismissed by a furious, quadruple fortissimo
full-keyboard glissando announcing Matthew Hindson's AK47,
wielded perhaps by children spraying death and damnation with total lack
of discrimination. ...
Gray's penetrating intelligence lifted the fog just enough to let light
shine through, ending the most satisfying contemporary concert this critic
has known. Elizabeth
Silsbury, The Advertiser, 18 July 2003, page 70.
Rebel's Sonata was an unexpected gem, but most
interest, not to say controversy, surrounded Matthew Hindson's commissioned
work, Baroquerie. The emphasis was more on rock than
baroque, featuring most of Hindson's, by now, well-known trademarks of
lead-guitar style solo lines, syncopated rhythms and abrupt harmonic shifts.
The material is not ideally suited to baroque instruments, and might just
as well (or better) have been played on modern violin and piano. All the
more credit therefore to Manze and Egarr for playing it as well as they
did. Stephen Whittington,
The Advertiser, 7 September 2002, page 80.
COMPOSER Matthew Hindson says of Baroquerie,
his sonata for violin and harpsichord, that it should be listened to not
as a piece of baroque music, but rather as a contemporary piece "that
may or may not contain some derivations''.
If anyone was going to be able to make the most of those derivations,
Andrew Manze (violin) and Richard Egarr (harpsichord), on tour for Musica
Viva with fellow baroque specialist Jaap ter Linden (viola da gamba),
were the people to do so.
But while at last Friday's Brisbane performance there may not, indeed,
have been so very much of a baroque feel to the work, there was plenty
of other stuff flashing past. The first movement, especially, was packed
with exuberant allusions to just about every nook and cranny of violin
and keyboard repertoire since the 17th century, from Kreisler to Bartok
to country & western.
The second movement appeared to be exploring a more serious mood, but
what sounded suspiciously like a direct Erik Satie quote gave the game
away. By the end of the third movement the whole thing seemed not so much
a musical joke as a shaggy-dog story -- the final extended scalar repetitions
certainly made for an anticlimactic punchline.
James
Harper, The Courier-Mail, 26 August 2002, page 13.
| Chrissietina's
Magic Fantasy and Little Chrissietina's Magic Fantasy |
"Young Australian composer Matthew Hindson's curiously
titled Chrissietina's Magic Fantasy (inspired by death metal and
rockabilly music) was another delight, a worthy piece to be added to the
wretchedly tiny repertoire of music for two violins. Here, Zac Rowntree
and Cary Koh maintained a blistering pace, with spot-on synchronisation,
as they nimbly and energetically negotiated the more extrovert measures
of Hindson's musical minefield; they were no less persuasive in the work's
more introspective, soulful moments." - Neville
Cohn, The West Australian, 16 November 1999.
"...Australia's Matthew Hindson likes to present
himself as a bad-boy, too, aligning his work with death-metal, punk and
techno music. But on the purely musical evidence of his Yandarra
(1998) and Chrissietina's Magic Fantasy (1993) one could be forgiven
for thinking his real loves were actually Andrew Lloyd Webber and Celtic
folk-fiddling. Hindson's pieces could have used some amplification to
make their pastiche of styles, twisted scales and bow-shredding effects
sound genuinely iconoclastic and contemporary, instead of resembling a
Mother's Day easy-listening selection with wrong notes added." -
Martin Buzacott, The Courier-Mail, 22 June 2000.
"Ten for presentation and preparation. Duo sol (pianist, Carolyn
Almonte and violinist, Miki Tsunoda) play the violin and piano repertoire
with loving concentration and intimate ensemble...
"Matthew Hindson arrangement of his violin duo, Little Chrissietina'
Magic Fantasy, for violin and piano, made, I thought, a better piece
than the original. Played here on amplified instruments, the rhythmic
exuberance was slick, cheeky and impressive." -
Peter MacCallum, The Sydney Morning Herald, 22 April 2002.
"Two
(of four) movements from Matthew Hindson's Elvis are by far the
most outrageous music on the CD. It is a complex score requiring an abandoned
versatility to which the choir rise with zest... it's a grim but somehow
mighty piece in which marvellously poor taste is transformed by the fascinated
composer into an art form by means of a skilfully fulfilled structure."
- Sounds Australian
Vol 15 (1997), no. 49, p.49.
"Entertainment, of the colour and movement variety,
was the essence of Matthew Hindson's hopefully tongue-in-cheek Homage
to Metallica, which had the whole orchestra playing like the clappers
to produce a white-nose accompaniment to Brian Porter's portrayal of a
quarter-size violinist from hell." - The
Adelaide Advertiser, 11 September 1993.
"Simone
Young is not one to do things by halves. Her programme for last weeks'
"Meet the Music" concert made great demands on herself and the
Sydney Symphony Orchestra: No less important, it was a refreshing and
stimulating occasion for the responsive, young audience.
She
began and closed that evening with modern music... In her very concise
remarks to the audience, Ms. Young offered two challenging suggestions.
The
first was that, in drawing upon the "heavy metal" fashion, Hindson
is following a long tradition of classical composers using folk material...
The
tough, confronting, repetitive chords of Metallica, its more sentimental
(and palling) middle section and its dancing, concluding pages with the,
well, "folkish", if you insist, rasping, amplified "Kit-fiddle"
(eighth-sized violin) all held the attention. The piece definitely warrants
repeating. " - John Carmody ,
The Sun-Herald - Timeout, 24 August,
1997.
"AS ITS title proclaims, Matthew Hindson's Homage
to Metallica has been prompted by a well-known group working in the
genre usually called heavy metal rock.
Most people associate heavy metal with, among other things,
loudness. Was Homage to Metallica unusually loud in its first performance
in the Opera House by the Sydney Symphony Orchestra? No. Other attributes
commonly assigned to heavy metal are an exceptionally aggressive beat
and dark or actively provocative words. There were no words in this wholly
orchestral piece and no rock-type beat, not even in the clanging opening
chords.
So what is the point of the title? Hindson seems to be
paying tribute to the ability of Metallica to invent variations on stereotyped
heavy metal formulas and its capacity for stepping outside the implications
of its generic label. His own score abandons the aggression of its initial
gestures quite quickly. We hear chord sliding into chord in a surprisingly
conventional sequence - and then the solo viola, beautifully played by
Caroline Henbest (on loan from the Australian Chamber Orchestra) sings
a reflective and beautiful modal melody that might have come from a meditative
idyll by Vaughan Williams or Koda'ly.
The most sustained resumption of forceful and strident
music occurs when the orchestra reinforces the blistering attack achieved
by Martin Lass in playing a one-eighth-size violin with a contact mike
attached. The actual sound of the instrument, played and amplified in
this way, is like a magnification of the effect produced by some pre-electric
78 rpm records when activated with a heavy steel stylus (heavy metal again).
It is an interesting and memorable timbre, especially when activated with
the skill and commitment that Lass brought to it and helped ensure a welcome
for Hindson's deliberately inconsistent work, with its alternations of
the roles of tiger and lamb.
Homage to Metallica was the opening gesture in one of
the most inviting and enjoyable programs ever assembled for the SSO's
6.30 pm series. " - Roger Covell, The Sydney
Morning Herald, 24 Aug 1997
Industrial
Night Music (String Quartet No. 1)
|
The transcendental mood [of
Ravel's String Quartet in F] contrasted well with the
gritty realism of Industrial Night Music by Matthew Hindson,
which had its world premiere at this concert.
This was a very evocative piece conjuring the sounds of heavy industry
in its dissonance, glissandos and syncopated rhythms. The middle section
had an eerie stillness which was followed by an ending of high-octane
energy of relentless intensity. Lynette
Smith, The Mercury, 22 August 2003, page 14.
At evening end and having its premiere season was Industrial
Night Music, privately commissioned from Matthew Hindson, arguably
today's most distinctive Australian compositional voice, and in danger
of being labelled as a bovver-boy.
He is much more, as this piece attests. Wisely rearranging
the order of service to conserve some elbow grease for Hindson's self-styled
"meccanico
machismo'', the players were able to expose the muscular, often memorable
rhythmic patterns that clarify his texture and distinguish his pieces.
The cello was his instrument of choice to establish and maintain the momentum,
and Julian Smiles lost quite a hunk of his bow hair depicting the dark
and dirty sides of steelworks in Port Kembla and Whyalla. Elizabeth
Silsbury, The Advertiser, 23 August 2003, page 87.
In
Memoriam:
Concerto
for Amplified Cello and Orchestra |
"The
world premiere of Matthew Hindson's Concerto for Amplified Cello and
Orchestra: In Memoriam... cast in two movements, Lament and Celebration,
was an imaginative and vividly energetic work and one of the best large-scale
scores of Hindson's that I have heard to date, even if, in its current
form, it is a bit long.
Hindson's
music at the moment seems to be testing extremes of expression and, dare
one say it, of taste - a hard thing to do since it is so easy to overdo.
The
first movement, perhaps the stronger of the two, began with an assertive
angry section, full of grating and grunge before leading to a quieter
music introduced by an effective cor anglais solo, "Sculthorpe"
bird sounds and a slightly over-extended chant-like meditation.
The
second movement celebrated with the euphoria of rave repetitions and maintained
an involving momentum...
Sleeveless and tattooed, cellist Nathan Waks was in his
element in this piece, relishing the play-anything-frantically textures
and grasping the energy and conception with a virtuoso's sense of theatre.
One couldn't imagine a better advocate. I was encouraged
by Hindson's compositional development in this piece."
- Peter
McCallum, The Sydney Morning Herald
- Timeout, 9 April, 2001.
"The world premiere of Matthew Hindson's Concerto
For Amplified Cello And Orchestra, subtitled In Memoriam, was
a prime instance of how an enfant terrible (born 1968) can turn
music into sensationalism by inventing or inciting effects, from quasi-hysterical
to vapid, demanding attention for a deliberate shocker lasting 34 unrelenting
minutes.
Nathan Waks was the compliant, indeed brilliant, solo
accomplice with adrenaline-rich conducting by Richard Gill and the Sydney
Symphony Orchestra." - Fred
Blanks, The North Shore Times, 18 April 2001.
"Gill
saw it [i.e. the last movement of the preceding piece, Stravinsky's Symphony
of Psalms] as a transfiguring inspiration: ... a masterly performance
of a glowing masterpiece.
What had come between - Matthew Hindson's In Memoriam
- was nothing of the kind. The composer told his audience that it is a
posthumous dedication to two memories of his family so, in theory, it
might have been a fitting match to its two companion pieces. Regrettably,
it is prolix and happy to slide across a sonic surface, even when it glibly
draws upon Gregorian chant. Its strident electronic effects, especially
scraped strings - intentionally rebarbative - seem utterly false anger
or regret."
- John
Carmody , The Sun-Herald - Timeout,
15 August, 2001.
"One of the most interestingly devised and impressively
executed concerts to have come my way in a very long time took place at
the Sydney Opera House on Wednesday, April 4. ...
By far the longest work on the agenda was the world premiere
of In Memoriam - a consistently interesting, intermittently impressive,
and occasionally astonishing piece that bespoke a depth and maturity in
the work of this young composer that I had not experienced before. Perhaps
it went on a bit long for its creative content, but In Memoriam
was overflowing with ideas and well equipped with surprises. Much of it
was very loud - too loud for many an ageing ear such as those which proliferate
in the Sydney Symphony Orchestra's flagship adult series - but there was
no doubt it spoke meaningfully to the much more versatile ears of the
twilight Meet the Music audience, with its eclectic mix of young blades
and adventurous oldies.
Not only did the Hindson draw far and away the most enthusiastic
applause of any work on the night's agenda, but its response eclipsed
by a long road that afforded to any other world premiere I have ever attended.
Possibly noise level coupled with audience affinity for the personable
Hindson, who introduced the piece briefly before it was played, had much
to do with the response; nevertheless, it was an achievement of significant
enough size to turn many composers of the younger generation green with
envy.
Though there is no vocal content in In Memoriam,
it is aptly framed as a concerto for amplified cello, and the eloquent
instrumental voice of Nathan Waks almost seemed to be about to launch
into articulate song at times during this premiere performance. Given
the technological boost afforded by amplification, of course, there was
never the slightest danger Waks' highly committed and eloquent music-making
would be engulfed by a mere symphony orchestra, and the interplay of forces
was often innovative and exhilarating.- David Gyger,
Opera-Opera, May 2001, Page 281.9
...It bore many resemblances to young Australian composer
Matthew Hindson's Lament for cello and piano, a memorial
to the victims of the Port Arthur massacre in 1996. Both opened gradually
from poignant themes which soon were punctuated by wilder, more anguished
stabs, finally returning to the quiet calm with which they began.
After Liebermann's theme from his opera The Picture of Dorian Gray
was announced, Isserlis moved into the central lyrical section, an outpouring
of full-bodied resonance from his Stradivarius. The program notes stated
Hindson chose The Lord is My Shepherd for his motto, but it sounded more
like a medieval Kyrie chant, beautifully shaped by the players at every
manifestation. - Patricia Kelly, Courier Mail,
9 May 2002.
This year, Musica
Viva's featured composer is Matthew Hindson, best known for his fusions
of serious and popular, minimalist and techno. On this night, we were
given his Lament, a short piece written in the shadow of the 1996
Port Arthur massacre: as the composer himself has pointed out, certainly
a change of pace.
...Hindson's simply
constructed elegy was juxtaposed with the massive Rachmaninov G minor
Sonata, given a reading of great power and passion...
Hindson's short piece
moves a little to the left of Peter Sculthorpe's Requiem for cello
and, like that work, finds it hard to avoid reminiscences of Bloch's Schelomo.
Like the Liebermann
sonata, the Australian composer's Lament uses a recurring motive,
but employs the device with less self-regard and an attractive, touching
naivete of utterance. - Clive O'Connell,
The Age, 15 May 2002.
Concert of the year,
if not century...
Matthew Hindson's
Lament for cello and piano (1996) was totally different, replacing
that composer's inclination towards sharply driven rhythmic activity with
effective chant-like simplicity, perhaps slightly overused towards the
end. - Peter MacCallum, The Sydney Morning Herald,
13 May 2002.
| Moments
of Plastic Jubilation |
"In
customary Kieran Harvey fashion, Part 2 took us to the here and now...
The premiere of Matthew Hindson's Moments of Plastic Jubilation,
scored for an electronic piano and CD playback, was disappointing. It
is a vapid appropriation of techno-jazz without the sophistication of
this genre. The work begins in pseudo-ambient mode and proceeds to stab
at Philip Glass, techno-pop and piano-bar. It is indulgent twaddle and
Kieran Harvey's role is akin to a club DJ." - Xenia
Hanusiak, Herald-Sun,
28 November 2000.
"EXHILARATION
motivated piano duo Michael Kieran Harvey and his sister Bernadette Harvey-Balkus...
Moments Of Plastic Jubilation by enfant terrible Matthew Hindson
was deliberately provocative, musical leftovers seasoned with wit." -
Fred Blanks, North
Shore Times, 11 April 2001.
"One
of the important developments of music since the 1970s has been the rediscovery
of simple repetition... The Australian Virtuosi's programme on Saturday
explored a series of pieces in this style - you might call it post-minimalist,
since the rhythmic complexity of these works is far from minimal, as was
evident from the two premieres of the evening.
The
first was Matthew Hindson's Moments of Plastic Jubilation for piano
solo (Michael Kieran Harvey), on of the expanding group of recent Australian
pieces drawing their titles from the words of bad reviews (I hasten to
add that your present correspondent has never been immortalised in this
way). In this case, Hindson was inspired to a particularly graphic representation
of a view once put in this newspaper that techno music grinding its heel
on the old idea of music as a nobly, expressive humane activity.
After
a few token bars of humane activity, Hindson's heel-grinding became at
times a slightly predictable thrash. There was more here, however, than
the simple relishing of bad manners, and despite its excess, effectively
realised by Harvey, I didn't find the style gratuitous. As in many modernist
pieces, subjectivity can be effectively expressed by its absence.
Rather,
there was the impression that Hindson, a serious and original musical
thinker, has not quite found his voice yet" - Peter
McCallum , The Sydney Morning Herald,
4 April 2001.
"My next musical outing an up-to-the-minute recital
by Michael Kieran Harvey and Bernadette Harvey-Balkus at the Opera House
Studio showed how much Australia has changed since Darcy's time. The oldest
work on their program was an over-long two-piano Suite by Rachmaninov;
the rest was skating-on-extremely-thin-ice post-modernism.
... the techno-junk of Matthew Hindson's solo, Moments
Of Plastic Jubilation (all plastic, little jubilation), added nothing
to its composer's reputation ...
We have to hear this stuff to be reminded of what substantial
and significant piano repertoire really is, but even such brilliant playing
left me unconvinced by its modishness. " -
John Carmody, Sun-Herald
- Metro, 8 April 2001.
"Thank God for the critic whose complaint about an
orchestral piece by young Australian composer Matthew Hindson goaded him
into writing Moments of Plastic Jubilation 1, a pastiche of musical
snippets creating brilliant flashes of music, with an inspired contemporaneity
that Kieran Harvey brought off with a fiery blast of playing. This is
the exciting stuff great musical moments are made of." -
Patricia Kelly,
The Courier-Mail, 26 July 2001.
Does humour belong in music? Frank Zappa's famous question
applies also to Matthew Hindson's Moments of Plastic Jubilation 1,
an unevenly comic pastiche of pop/rock styles, riffs and grooves.
The basis of effective musical humour is there, but the
structure and timing need tightening. Nonetheless it was a good vehicle
for Harvey's dazzling technique, pianistic energy and musical theatricality,
and a fitting end to his engaging program.
- Michael Hannan, The Courier-Mail,
28 July 2001.
Matthew Hindson's Moments of Plastic Jubilation
takes its title from a phrase used in a Herald review of another of his
pieces.
The music, invented with vigour, fits the title exceptionally
well.- Roger
Covell, Sydney Morning Herald,
17 November 2001.
In a quickfire conclusion to a breathtaking concert, Matthew
Hindson’s Moments of Plastic Jubilation 1, Kieran Harvey launches
into this mocking retort to a review of a work by the young Sydney composer
(the title taking up the critic's words). It’s a jokey Victor Borge-Liberace-Little
Richard-Richard Fleyderman romp requiring sudden changes in style and
intensity–a refreshing dessert after so much rich and curiously romantic
repast. - Keith Gallasch, RealTimeArts.
"Pi, the ratio of a circumference of a circle
to its diameter, was the inspiration for two poems which Matthew Hindson
has set to music... Peter Goldsworthy's In the Sky There is a Heaven
[sic] is full of reverence for this number, which, the poet writes, is
"finer than us, more durable than matter". Here, wowing tam-tams,
a loud flourish from the brass, and drum rolls greeted the 150-strong
WA Symphony Youth Choir. Meticulously prepared by Prue Ashurst, this ensemble
passed the acid test - almost every word was audible in a serenely pastoral
setting that makes a graceful obeisance to the English choral tradition
in general and the music of Vaughan Williams in particular. In the more
robustly empathic setting of Sarah Hindson's Logic Without Definition
[sic], diction was less clear against an often overly-strident backing
which, however, quietened down to a much calmer close." -
Neville Cohn, The West Australian, 26 June 2000.
"....The previous night, the Australian Virtuosi
(pianists Michael Kieran Harvey and Bernadette Harvey-Balkus with percussionists
Timothy Phillips, Philip South and Richard Miller) combined new Australian
works with forgotten curios and treasures with equal aplomb.
... Matthew Hindson's Pulse Magnet for two
pianos and percussion harnessed the best of his characteristic energy
to some of the sense of humour and gestures of Satie and Les Six (whistles
and siren gags), although the slow middle section was a little predictable."
- Peter MacCallum, Sydney Morning Herald, 12 November
2002.
IS the piano a percussion instrument? It is all of that, and much more.
Pianists spend - or used to spend - a great deal of time learning how
to create the illusion on the piano of sustained legato lines like the
voice or violin, the very anithesis of percussion.
But in teaming pianos and percussion, the inevitable tendancy of composers
and performers is to focus on the percussive aspects of the instrument...
...Matthew Hindson's
Pulse Magnet was no less impressive as a feat of memory and ensemble
playing. Short of a Vulcan mind-meld, it's hard to imagine how they do
it. Hindson's new piece is typical, in-your-face heavy-metal music informed
by a generous amount of youthful iconoclasm. It features the most bizarre
coda in musical memory, with performers fleeing the stage to the sound
of an air-raid siren. - Stephen Whittington, The
Adelaide Advertiser, 24 July 2002.
"They
say it's the quiet ones you have to watch. The young Sydney composer Matthew
Hindson looks like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, but he writes music
with such bellicose titles as Death Stench and AK-47. Last
weekend the admirably versatile Song Company premiered Hindson's The
Rage Within, which deals with the psyche of serial killers. It's built
of yells, screams and fast staccato sounds and its almost manic, driven
character put me in mind of moments in Prokoviev's opera, The Fiery
Angel" - The Sun-Herald, 29 June 1997.
"...By contrast, Matthew Hindson's task in The
Rage Within was to create the poetry, or at least some form of aesthetic
web, in an apparently inauspicious site for the purpose, the mind of a
serial killer. I sometimes think that Hindson's originality as a composer
lies in his penchant to delve, in his polite girls' private school manner,
into psychological areas that were not quite what his parents had in mind
when shelling out for all those music lessons. Each piece seems to capture
the quietly suppressed alarm in the exclamation, 'Really? A serial killer!
Well, that's lovely, dear.'
Needless to say, the piece didn't achieve [a] positive
view of homo sapiens. Nor was it the cry of an angry young man
trying to shake us from a state of denial. What it did achieve was cold,
unsettling, unpleasant, and there." - Peter
McCallum, The Sydney Morning Herald, 9 March 1999.
| The
Rave and the Nightingale |
"Musing on what a "DJ Franz writing techno-inspired
electronica'' might sound like, Matthew Hindson provides in his latest
orchestral work, Rave and the Nightingale a light-hearted parody
of Schubert's last string quartet. It brought to mind those masters of
spoof, PDQ Bach and Gerard Hoffnung." - Robert
Curry, The Australian, 30 July 2001
(composer's note on
this review: this review *so totally* misses the mark of the piece that
I wonder whether Mr. Curry was actually at the concert)
"Matthew
Hindson's Rave-Elation, a homage to the 'rave' dance scene, was
full of funky beats and catchy riffs pounded out with fairly relentless
energy. One couldn't call it subtle, but it was a hugely enjoyable celebration
of the essentially hedonistic physicality of contemporary youth culture.
It was greeted with a degree of enthusiasm from the audience which is
relatively rare, alas, for contemporary music" - Stephen
Whittington, Adelaide Advertiser,
22 July, 1997.
"Hindson's
Rave-Elation continues his interest in popular styles, exploring
techniques of techno styles and the spirit of physical enjoyment characteristic
of rave parties. I find Hindson's work in this area immensely interesting.
He confronts the eternal problem of harnessing the energy of popular styles
- how to handle their essential banality - in a variety of imaginative
ways, and here the stop-start rhetoric went some way to doing this.
However
this work seemed only half successful. There were inventive moments (such
as the opening) but many more were needed and I didn't find the techno
techniques developed the material in very interesting ways. And it's hard
to abandon oneself utterly to hedonism when you're sitting up straight
in the concert hall.
Nevertheless,
I enjoyed hearing both these young composers hugely [David Horne's Flicker
was the other piece]. Youth-orchestra programmes can sometimes get a little
predictable and how better to liven them up than with some young people's
music " - Peter McCallum,
The Sydney Morning Herald, 18 July, 1997.
"I
was particularly interested to hear RPM by Matthew Hindson, Sydney's
self-appointed chronicler of recent popular musical styles in a symphonic
setting... What I think Hindson does rather well is to adopt a tone of
naive homage, without irony, slickness, or sarcasm. In a post-modern age
of quotation, double-coding and sarcasm, that is rather refreshing and
also rather original." - The Sydney Morning Herald,
16 January, 1998.
FAREWELL symphony, welcome 21st-century urbanism. Out, protracted symphonic
structures. In, the raw, short and sharp replications of a contemporary
urban soundscape where The Queensland Orchestra was firmly planted for
Pedal to the Metal.
...
Hindson's RPM opened with dramatic staccato chords before expanding
into a moto perpetuo intersected by some some fancy blues trumpeting.
He distributed a variety of ostinato patterns around the orchestra in
LiteSPEED, which quickly gained momentum and character through
sharp, synchronised violin bowing and an occasional trombone raspberry.
His skilfully conceived imagery added to the general metaphor of speed
and movement, all of which was underpinned by virtuoso playing from TQO's
percussion players, the engine drivers in this program. -
Patricia Kelly, The Courier-Mail, 20 June 2002.
Just pause for a moment and think about your favourite
restaurant and what it is that you like about it. More often than not,
when you have an eating house that appeal’s to you, the inclination
is to go back time and time again.
Why? Well, you know what is on offer is of a good standard,
and when something different appears on the menu, the temptation is there
to give it a go, as you are comfortable with the surroundings and quality
from times gone by. Even if you don't like the new cuisine you eat, it
doesn't stop you going back. In short, that is how you could be describing
this new CD by the Leyland Band...
'RPM'
stands for 'revolutions
per minute' and
depicts the thrill and excitement of driving a car at an exceptionally
high speed. The players certainly stand up to the challenge and cope admirably
with the tempo. There is no greater contrast than to listen to "Headbanger"
by Matthew Hindson. Matthew is a new name to brass bands and his writing
is certainly an eye opener and definitely a name to look out for in the
future. As the title suggests, it is music associated with those connected
who follow Heavy Metal music. It is aggressive in nature and on first
hearing, may be off-putting, but it does have sensitive sections that
are easier on the ear. In another arrangement by Phillip Littlemore, the
band certainly takes to this new musical idiom, and you get plenty of
bass, and bass drum. 4 bars rest.com, review of
The Alchymist's Journal,
performed by the Leyland Band.
"Matthew Hindson's Rush is a Musica Viva commission,
and it certainly doesn't hang about - its nine or so minutes contain a
very large number of high-speed notes, mostly scored as an ensemble but
with solos for everyone. The influences of popular music are clear, but
Hindson is developing a very personal approach." - Tristram
Cary, The Australian, 20 August 1999.
"... And the obligatory knees-up after interval produced
from Australia's classical techno-head, Matthew Hindson, one of his most
effective explorations of romantic agony and dance-floor ecstasy [, Rush]."
- Peter McCallum, The Sydney Morning Herald,
23 August 1999.
"The final Rush by Matthew Hindson is a thoroughly
modern piece that mirrors the Boccherini [D Major Quintet] with a compelling
rhythmic drive. Its chief element is a an amalgam - pop-cum-rock-cum-jazz.
There is a minimum of melody, replaced by a whipped-up propulsion which
leaves you wondering if the piece is simple huff-and-puff." - The
Age, 23 August 1999.
"...Referring
specifically to Matthew Hindson's SPEED, funky was probably not
the right word but the band were certainly pumping. SPEED is a
raging 18 minutes of explosive techno for orchestra.
Powered
by a synthetic drum kit, the orchestra pulses along at 130-plus beats
per minute, with subtle shifts mimicking a DJ's spin doctoring. The work
begins in a quintessential techno style, with triads and minor seconds.
It closes with another classic trope of the genre, brashly heroic fourths
and fifths. The double reeds didn't handle their solos too well but the
live strings brought a dramatic edge and presence to the sound - who needs
a digital sampler when you have a symphony orchestra?
Part
of the fun in this piece is realising how silly you feel sitting in a
concert hall at 9.30 PM when the music conjures a warehouse at 3am. Laugh?
I nearly wet myself." - Martin Ball, The
Australian, 29 July 1997.
"TSO goes techno," said the flier. With a repeat
of Matthew Hindson's popular techno spoof Speed to bring in the
punters, the TSO relocated its Music of the 20th Century series from the
conservatorium to the larger Stanley Burbury Theatre...
And so to Hindson's Speed. It had me in stitches
again, with its brilliant evocation of techno tropes. The strings work
overtime in reproducing lines usually reserved for a sequenced synthesiser,
and the trombones are just perfect as wailing sirens. Hindson has cut
a few minutes of the score since the first performance, bringing the work
closer to 15 minutes. One of the effects of this is to highlight the central
slow section, where Hindson appears to be saying, "I can write a
romantic film score too". Shameless!." - Martin
Ball, The Australian,
1 May 1998.
"More musical drivel from Matthew Hindson... how
does that seem as a way of leading into a word or two on his orchestral
piece, Speed? A bit sweeping and dismissive perhaps? Yes, but it
is one of the legitimate reactions to Speed, which self-confessedly
takes its musical cue from one of the lesser genres of our time. Techno
music, nominated by Hindson as his stylistic starting point, is the sort
of music you make when you want to grind your heel - ever so nonchalantly
- on the old idea of music as a nobly expressive, humane activity.
Its mechanical repetitiveness of figuration and beat is
a finger sign to musical as tradition - and, in case you feel like raising
a red flag in sympathy, it means the same for the idea of music as revolution.
This is music which goes with the spurious sense of immunity a hoon might
feel while revving-up a wreck on the way to a fast-food joint; its moments
of plastic jubilation, faithfully echoed by Hindson, at best fit the closing
shots of the latest action picture schlock.
Of course, there is nothing of the hoon about Hindson.
He seems a pleasant young man, undoubtedly talented, who is working at
the moment as the Sydney Symphony Orchestra's resident (or, as they say,
attached) composer. They wouldn't let a hoon in there, would they?
In fact, Speed is the soft of pseudo-pop score
very much in favour with the musical establishment at the moment. Conductors
like a shortish piece which gets under the guard of younger listeners
- a majority, as it happens, at this 6.30 PM concert - and makes a lot
of people feel they are up with the times without letting its stainless
steel finish impinge seriously on their attention. You can jig with the
beat - the SSO's guest conductor, Muhai Tang, shook out a few rumba swivels
as he left us in no doubt that he was attuned to the mood of the moment
- and there are no indignant exits by members of the audience. If that
was new music, that wasn't so bad, was it? You could be high safely on
this Speed." - Roger Covell, The
Sydney Morning Herald, 27 August 1999.
"Something
a bit different this week, with a single release making my picks of the
week. But this is no ordinary single release.
Speed
is a new work by young Australian composer Matthew Hindson, who at 32
years of age has already made his mark in the orchestral world, both as
a composer, and in the hands-on areas of Director of Composition at MLC
School, and in presidential and directorial roles within fellowships of
composers and performers.
In
its original format, Speed is a work for orchestra, which takes
its lead from the urban club scene. Though its mid-section does break
down into a gentle eddy of melody highlighted by harp and strings, this,
like the beatless breaks which exist within trance and techno music, merely
highlights the pace and intensity of opening and closing sequencs where
the orchestra powers along at upwards of 130 bpm. Here a synthesised drum
beat drives repeated textural motives, within which brass and strings
swell and vie for pole position.
Speed
is not only thoroughly enjoyable, but also reflective of the innovative
works currently being composed for the symphony. Works which make exciting
recordings, but which also have the power to draw younger audiences into
the fabulous experience of live symphonic performance."-
Review of SPEED [Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra, David Porcelijn,
conductor (ABC Under Capricorn) ] - Paul Turner
, Capital Q Weekly, 13 April 2000.
"SOME very wild sounds greet you at the start of
this disc of frenetic music by Matthew Hindson, recognised as a leading
figure among Australia`s younger generation of composers. He studied with
some of this country`s leading composer-teachers, but the energy would
be pure Hindson, perhaps with some Leonard Bernstein inspiration. It is
exciting and explores a new facet of symphonic sound. A great voice who
does not have to use gimmicks or quirks. Just skill and imagination."
- Review of SPEED [Tasmanian Symphony
Orchestra, David Porcelijn, conductor (ABC Under Capricorn) ] -
Patricia Kelly, The Courier-Mail, 3 June
2000.
"Matthew
Hindson is one of the younger generation of Australian composers who have
come to the fore over the past decade, and he brings a fresh and somewhat
unusual, and a refreshing non-seriousness, to much of his music.
Speed
is in many ways a fun piece, effectively crafted, yet not taking itself
too seriously. It is just what the title implies - an orchestra fantasy
aiming to create a feeling of "velocity, rapidly executed activity,
driving in a hurry". Certainly the outer two movements have this
effect, using minimalist techniques and a strong rhythmic impulse. There
is a quieter central section, lyrical in feeling and attractive, probably
saying more about the composer than the assertive outer movements.
It
is relatively short, only 17 minutes, and I imagine the orchestra had
great fun playing it. Certainly, the playing is vital and lively...
I
have hesitated to review this disc earlier, wondering for whom it could
be intended. But the piece itself... I have found more attractive each
time I play it, so perhaps someone reading this who is musically adventurous
will gain some fun and enjoyment from it. It costs $14.95 from ABC Shops
- Review of SPEED [Tasmanian Symphony
Orchestra, David Porcelijn, conductor (ABC Under Capricorn) ] - W.
L. Hoffman, The Canberra Times, 6 November 2000.
FAREWELL symphony,
welcome 21st-century urbanism. Out, protracted symphonic structures. In,
the raw, short and sharp replications of a contemporary urban soundscape
where The Queensland Orchestra was firmly planted for Pedal to the Metal.
...
Hindson's RPM opened with dramatic staccato chords before expanding
into a moto perpetuo intersected by some some fancy blues trumpeting.
He distributed a variety of ostinato patterns around the orchestra in
LiteSPEED, which quickly gained momentum and character through
sharp, synchronised violin bowing and an occasional trombone raspberry.
His skilfully conceived imagery added to the general metaphor of speed
and movement, all of which was underpinned by virtuoso playing from TQO's
percussion players, the engine drivers in this program. -
Patricia Kelly, The Courier-Mail, 20 June 2002.
The 2003 Vale of Glamorgan Festival made a feature of
the music of controversial Australian composer Matthew Hindson (born 1968),
and it was a concert of six of Hindson's pieces that took place at Cardiff
Airport a couple of days earlier, to a rather mixed reception by the press.
SPEED (1996) is mesmeric, fast, and gave me a slightly
giddy car-sick feeling. It's a kind of brash Aussie minimalism, a reflection
of modern life, mainly loud and brassy, using a MIDI drum kit, repeated
sliding trombone notes, and heavily influenced by hard-core techno music.
You would never describe this music as subtle, but it certainly takes
the symphony orchestra somewhere new! Keith
Bramich, Music and Vision, 29 September 2003.
| Techno
Logic and its variants: technologic 1-2, technologic 145, technologic
135 |
"In music... we are inclined to talk about motor
rhythms, hypnotic moods, trance-like states and pseudo-aesthetic euphemisms
of the fact that the mind has given up on the stimulus provided and found
something more interesting to do. Of course, coming from a respectable
family, one in inclined to blame it all on music's dangerous liaisons
with dance, which has always encouraged the visceral side and insisted
that music thump out the pulse lest people forget they have two feet.
But it's time music took responsibility for its own fate and admitted
that among all the minutes, waltzes and fox-trots churned out over the
centuries there is an unacceptably high percentage of the sort of unsophisticated
doggerel that we should be ashamed to own.
Which brings us to our own age, to raves, to techno, and,
in particular, to Matthew Hindson's new piece Techno Logic. Hindson
is a composer who explores relationships between contemporary popular
and classical music traditions in a highly interesting and original way.
In his recent piece based on the patterns of techno music and the mind
states of raves, I feel he is yet to find the right edge and originality
to make these patterns worth sitting still and listening to for the duration
of a concert piece, whatever their efficacy in guiding the limbs through
a night of non-stop dancing. Techno Logic seemed to me an improvement
on his last essay in this genre, Rave-Elation. The challenge here
is what to do with essentially banal aspects of this music: whether to
exclude it, transform it or celebrate it. Hindson tends to the last of
these but at the moment it doesn't rise above a personal memory of a good
night out." - Peter McCallum, The Sydney
Morning Herald, 17 November 1997.
Sheik Yerbouti at the MPO (Malaysian Philharmonic
Orchestra)
...But with the third item, Matthew Hindson's Technologic
145, our conductor' s unintrusive time-counting managed to move the
ambitious score from a sombre heroic opening to chariot-racing pace and
back again. With horns immitating sirens, trumpets whooping in loops,
and Field himself contributing a hand-clapped tripplet during a pause,
the music sounded like an episode of Donald Duck's misadventure. Hindson
cited the libidinous influences of techno and death metal music. But our
good government need not fear; the richly melodic work conveyed more bluegrass
frenzy than demonic orgies. Traces of repetitive bars were given such
colourful variations and embellishment that you can hardly recognise them
as disco sonics.
In an email to me, Hindson explained, "The extent of the
repetition is going to be different in an acoustic concert piece because
people are sitting down in seats actively listening to the music, rather
than using it as a conduit to pronounced physical movement." But it certainly
is one of the most kinetic music ever written for a bunch of seated folks.
If we weren't too breathless by the end of it, we would have certainly
gotten up and danced a jig.
Pang Khee Teik The Edge, August
2001.
A boisterous romp through Matthew Hindson's Techno
logic 125 followed, wringing out every ounce of manic passion.
The piece is exceptionally well scored for the medium, beginning with
a gritty cello monologue offset by subtle shape-shifting manoeuvres.
There is a relentless momentum behind much of the writing. The sonorities
are full-blooded and vibrant and the excitement never wanes. Johanna
Selleck, The Herald-Sun,
6 August 2002, page 57.
The Electra String Quartet played Techno-Logic
1 3 5 by Matthew Hindson, a work which treats the cello as a
chain-saw but also slides in some melodic ideas.
Fred Blanks, North
Shore Times, 2 April 2003, page 14.
| Violin
Concerto (Australian Postcards) |
"...Both of the other two items on the agenda of
the SYO farewell concert - and its tour agenda - were rewarding musical
experiences too...
Hindson's Violin Concerto afforded Naoko Miyamoto,
who premiered the work in March, a wealth of opportunities to display
her virtuosity and lyrical skill. While not abrogating the more turbulent
segments of his muse in this piece, Hindson also exposes his soothing
side - particularly in the rather gentle second movement, entitled Westaway.
The open, entitled Wind Turbine at Kooragang Island, admirably
reflects the turbulence implicit in its title, and the finale, Grand
Final Day, also gives us the sort of the energetic persona I have
come to think of as the trademark of this young composer. "
David Gyger, Opera-Opera, August
2001, page 284.17
|