Last year, Nightingale Performing Arts Australia brought two exciting works to Melbourne at fortfivedownstairs (a review can be found on the Classic Melbourne website), so this year’s performances were definitely not to be missed. Like the Two Acts (Krystyna and Gad) of Two Remain, by notable American composer Jake Heggie, Stories That Must Be Heard explores important social issues in an inventive format. Both series of performances also featured local artists as well as highly skilled international artists.
This year, the floor of the Melbourne Recital Centre’s Primrose Potter Salon was covered with special Tarkett for what was justifiably described as “a genre-defying program of classical music, refugee stories and circus”. The concert comprised two works with music by Australian composer Chloé Charody.
The first, Truth in the Cage, is a song cycle for soprano and piano that uses seven poems from a collection written by Iranian refugee Mohammad Ali Maleki while imprisoned for seven years on Manus Island, followed by two years in a Brisbane detention centre before being granted refugee status. In Carody’s settings, they are devastating in their anguished intensity. The listener can understand why he says, “You can find my whole life in my poems like a letter to God”. To some extent, the titles of the poems (Dream of Death; Migrant Child; Estrangement; Brother; Myself; One Day I Will Become a Politician; Silent Land) illustrate the diversity of the basic sentiments. In the performance given by soprano Livia Brash and pianist Jerry Wong they were a vivid and highly dramatic “testament to lives lost and stories and stories left unspoken” – stories that must be heard.
A setting of poems written by a man does beg the question: Why set them for a female voice? In 2021 we heard a setting of secret text messages sent by another refugee imprisoned for seven years on Manus Island. Behrouz Boochani’s words became the acclaimed book No Friend but the Mountains, and later the basis for A Symphonic Song Cycle by Australian composer Luke Styles at the suggestion of bass baritone Adrian Tamburini, who became Boochani’s “voice”. Although the final poem of Truth in the Cage does include the words, “I’m just a walking dead man/A walking dead man” the rest could have been from the point of view of any desperate asylum seeker, irrespective of gender. Most importantly, the appalling nature of what was endured pierced the heart, but especially the songs that concern the horrific fate of little children, which act as a universal cry of protest
There is a certain stark intensity in a performance for solo voice accompanied by piano in the intimacy of the Salon. A statuesque, graceful figure clothed in black and spotlit against a background of deep red light, Livia Brash was an arresting sight. Performing as a cohesive dramatic unit, she and Jerry Wong conveyed the desolation and horror of Mohammad Ali Maleki’s experiences with persuasive commitment. Much of Carody’s music closely reflects the poetic content in a conversational mode; it is generally tuneful and contemplative in nature, with anguished outbursts at key moments. Sung unaccompanied, the song cycle begins simply with, “My dears, I know my story might be hard to hear”; we were immediately drawn into the story, this direct form of address making it personal. Brash possesses a resonant mellow soprano voice with the richness of a mezzo-soprano – an ideal vehicle for expressing the pathos of these accounts. The climaxes of each song were powerfully delivered and often completed by admirable mastery of diminuendos. Brash’s facial expressions also conveyed meaning without being in the least exaggerated, and her gestures were made even more telling by strategically limited use. It was a compelling, carefully nuanced and finely calibrated performance on the part of both singer and pianist. If anything could have added to the experience, it would have been having a copy of the text to hand; no matter how excellent a female singer’s diction, a text is sometimes difficult to follow when delivered in the higher register at full volume.
Chloé Charody wrote the second work, Limbo: sonata for acrobatic violin, specifically for the unique skill set of acrobat/violin virtuoso Sonja Schebeck, who performs with acrobat partner Josh Frazer. Aptly described as a “ground-breaking interdisciplinary duet to tell a poignant narrative through dynamic partner acrobatics”, it is astonishing in its fusion of exception skills – musical, acrobatic and theatrical. Unfortunately, Josh Frazer fell victim to an injury near the beginning of the second performance on Sunday, so we only saw the beginning of what looked like an amazing feat of physical control and concentration. But the show did go on with Sonja Schebeck playing her violin with limited, slightly stylised movement accompanied by another accomplished pianist in Allie Wang.
Although this performance of Limbo was in a different form than the one originally conceived, it was most interesting to hear the seven movements in such a musically concentrated version. The recurring number seven has certain biblical associations, coincidentally providing even deeper resonance to these stories. Limbo is notionally set in Melbourne Park Hotel in 2021, when many refugees were incarcerated on indefinite detention, some up to nine years – a situation Melbournians had a tiny taste of during the pandemic. Through the character of “Amin” we are taken on a journey through seven different states of mind that a person would go through, when their life is in Limbo. Anger, frustration, fantasy and escape culminate in the greatest weapon against oppression: hope.
In the full version, which I saw on video, Sonja Schebeck displayed unwavering focus and passionate virtuosity, even when being kicked across the stage in a shocking display of aggression as she played spiky atonal music. Relief came with a more melodic sequence as she picked herself off the floor to play with the pianist alone. The reappearance of Frazer on unicycle brought more aggressive music and some hair-raising physical feats including playing while standing on Frazer’s shoulders. Song for the Moon, featuring a cyr wheel, brought another lyrical respite – flowing and romantically melodic as Schebeck lay on top the wheel frame while playing, and Frazer performed superbly controlled acrobatics with the wheel. Lunacy saw Schebeck playing a disturbing rhythmic movement with Frazer standing on her shoulders. It seemed she was capable of playing under all possible constraints – a survivor. The solo movements featured extremes in attack and dissonance reflective of existential angst. The final movement, The Lost World, took us back to yearning lyricism and a vision of hope. All movements were enhanced by an atmospheric lighting plan.
Stories That Must Be Heard will live long in the memory of those who witnessed this moving portrayal of lives endured under extreme circumstances.
Image supplied.
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Heather Leviston reviewed “Stories That Must Be Heard”, presented by Nightingale Performing Arts Australia at the Melbourne Recital Centre, Primrose Potter Salon at 7pm and a video of the 4pm performance on Sunday, August 17, 2025.
