Review: Barry Humphries and the Australian Chamber Orchestra

By
Samuel Webster
– December 20, 2009Posted in: Arts

The Australian Chamber Orchestra has established itself so thoroughly as Australia’s premiere orchestra, that it almost seems redundant to reflect upon their performance. Beginning the concert with the overture from Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro, they displayed the flighty expression they have become known for, leaning to and fro with wonderful poetic inclination, Tognetti at the helm. One wonders whether this piece, well known as it is, was chosen as a sparkling introduction to what might be a thematic equivalent to a Night at the Proms, meshing popular culture with classical music. The piece itself allowed Tognetti to move beyond his usual immutable direction and conduct guest wind and brass players which made the orchestra itself seem like a small symphony, more voluminous but also less individual than what we are used to seeing.

As the piece ended, Barry Humphries arrived in a nice black suit, with red socks (or perhaps stockings), relating to the crowd in his regal candour, “I was a bit nervous tonight… Well, not really…” This wonderful performer, who claims to have never performed on the Opera House stage, though many others have, “from Pavarotti to Kamahl”, remarks, “You must be grateful that I have saved myself for you tonight… I say this in all modesty: I have achieved iconic status” before divulging a personal scenario he believes would be a major tragedy – that one day, they would find oil under the Opera House. “That would be a big decision for Christine Kenneally,” he laughs.

The programme followed a selection of piece which Humphries, his primary instrument being the Gramophone, had come to love over the years, including Jazz Music by obscure Belgian composer, Marcel Poot, (“This piece has never been performed in Australia, so it’s a world premiere”) through which Humphries sits at the front of the stage in an armchair, legs crossed, enjoying the performance closely with a glass of water. As a master of ceremonies, Barry Humphries is immediately charming and eloquent. His anecdotes are entertaining in a nostalgic sense, taking me back to Melbourne of the 1960s, despite never having been there. He is obviously quite intelligent, incredibly quick witted and a walking recommendation for his own biography.

For what it’s worth, Carol Middleton at Australian Stage disagrees, saying that “Of his three manifestations in this performance – Dame Edna the gigastar, Sir Les the social lubricator and Barry Humphries the man himself - Barry Humphries was the least impressive, although it was a treat to see him out of costume, with a touch of vulnerability. “

Personally, had the performance been entirely Barry Humphries, I would have easily pronounced this guest concert as the finest the Australian Chamber Orchestra had produced this year. Unfortunately, Humphries foray into his alternate personalities proved to be less endearing.

Barry Humphries and his personalities are a wonder of cultural nostalgia. However, that wonder rested upon whether we should be proud and delighted, as many audience members were, that our nostalgic sense of humour includes the use of derogatory racial remarks. Upon noticing two young Asian ladies in the front row, Sir Les Patterson spat the question, “Where are you from?” and then, upon hearing that they were Japanese, remarked “Well, we’ve buried the hatchet now haven’t we?” A harmless joke which could easily be let go if it weren’t for the fact that not thirty seconds later, Patterson had referred to the two girls as “nips,” before telling a lewd anecdote about Thai masseurs, and then, crotch at eye level, remarked to Aiko Goto, the first violinist, You’re the perfect height for me,” patted the top of her head and continued, “and she’s got a flat head too.”

Of course, this is nothing we wouldn’t expect from the overwhelming vulgarity the character is known for, and to say that it was completely unexpected would be ignorant to Humphries’ body of work. I don’t believe for a second that Barry Humphries himself is racist, and I’m sure that the ridiculous nature of Patterson’s racism is intended to highlight how ridiculous it is to be so bigoted. That said, this form of humour only works if the audience is entirely in on it. Even realising this possibility, I felt somewhat affronted when the term ‘nip’ was used again. There’s a difference between getting a laugh because of the irony of the situation, or because of the outrageous nature of such characters, but in a society which is yet to escape their racist heritage, we are not enlightened enough, on the whole, to accept the character ironically. The jokes were a cheap laugh, purely out of shock factor, a low blow from a man who, in his natural persona, strikes me as the loquacious intellectual one would want at a dinner party. He tells an amazing story, with a heightened grasp of both language and subtle humour. Although Sir Les can act as opposition to Humphries eloquent demeanour, he comes across as unnecessarily offensive, and the intellect which Humphries obviously possesses, gives way to a character which caters to low-level humour, omitting the second layer of meaning which might allow for clever satire. Although there is a certain entertainment value to both Sir Les and Dame Edna’s old school values, on this occasion the line appeared to be crossed. That said, perhaps I am being pretentious, as each line which I believed to be offensive happened to also draw a resounding laugh from the audience. Perhaps it was nervous laughter, or perhaps these are remnants of a time which I feel fortunate enough to have missed out on.

Not having caught his other performances with the Australian Chamber Orchestra, I was delighted to hear Dejan Lazić play a wonderful piece from the piano repertoire, Rachmaninov’s Rhapsody on a Theme from Paganini, which is composed much like a piano concerto. This very accomplished performer in his own right, seen here as variation rather than the theme, was a delight to watch.  Lazić’s dexterity is spellbinding and immediately playful and this section of the programme allowed the Australian Chamber Orchestra to spread their wings into symphony orchestra repertoire, which they did outstandingly. The piece, extraordinarily played as it was, solidified a thought which in itself is not a new way to end a year of performances, the Australian Chamber Orchestra are Sydney’s greatest classical music ensemble and on this occasion, their flawless performance almost seemed so effortless that one might ask oneself, “Well, did we expect any less of them?”

Dame Edna herself is an interesting balance between Patterson and Humphries, skirting the line between caustic wit and “possum” charm, though her addition of “slopes” to the incendiary vernacular did little to help her as a redemption. She is the clearest expression of Humphries wit and personality, entering the stage and commenting that we were not to worry about the empty seats, they were indeed sold. “They are what we call subscribers… See what happens is that they buy tickets to beautiful shows like this and then…they die. They’re not empty seats, they’re red plush tombstones.”

Dame Edna’s description of Tognetti himself is one of the most entertaining out there… “Ah, Richard Tognetti,” she muses, “There’s no questioning Richard Tognetti is there? He is the thinking woman’s Andre Rieu.”

About Samuel Webster

Samuel Webster is a writer who spends his days teaching undergraduates about cultural studies, and his nights pondering the impact of a cascading tune whistled on the darkening urban landscape. He is currently working on his first novel. Follow him on twitter: www.twitter.com/wiredjazz