Entering the colonial Fitzroy Town Hall, in Naarm–Melbourne, on a cold and dreary winter’s night felt like a true occasion for the Australian premiere of composer Wally Gunn and librettist Maria Zajkowski’s 2019 oratorio Moonlite, a queer true-crime 19th-century love story about Australian bushranger Andrew George Scott.
The sold-out audience, made up of many of the city’s passionate music community, took their places in this grand space for this latest offering from new music stalwarts Homophonic and The Consort of Melbourne. These two intrepid ensembles have often collaborated to present LGBTQIA+ chamber music as part of Midsumma Festival. This time, they’ve join forces to present Moonlite across a number of venues and festivals in Victoria.
Moonlite tells the story of Scott and his partner James Nesbit (“amazingly gay bushrangers”, according to Homophonic’s Artistic Director and new music doyen Miranda Hill) via excerpts from Scott’s letters, Zajkowski’s poetic libretto and Gunn’s evocative music. It tells a desperate tale of two men from the desolate Mallee, their holdup of a homestead in Wantabadgery, New South Wales, Nesbit’s death, and Scott’s eventual incarceration and hanging.
Zajkowski’s stunning libretto weaves imagery that comments on and progresses the narrative, without depending on obvious observation or dialogue. Gunn’s music has incredible moments of energy and forward propulsion in the tight percussion setup, alongside breathtaking choral and solo vocal passages, all complemented with a series of interludes for solo viola depicting different stages of the progress of the moon.
These three sonic elements weave around each other to create a voluminous, polyphonic experience. From the thumping, primordial effect of four percussionists playing pulsing unison, rich and brilliant singing – perfectly prepared by director Steve Hodgson – of The Consort of Melbourne, and Phoebe Green’s viola playing (by turns robust and confident, whispery and whimsical), a fantastic sonic tapestry is created.
I was particularly struck by Gunn’s ability to generate so many varied and unexpected textures between three timbral elements. Among especially memorable effects is percussion depicting rain on what sounded like a corrugated iron roof, the subtle use of exhales from the singers, and the fantastic contrasts from rich tuttis into the intimate viola solos.
To stand in a 19th-century space and to experience the bleak story that unfolded in front of us, I was reminded how fortunate we are to bear witness to these stories in our comfortable present. This was further highlighted by the presence of the Australian Queer Archives, sharing further stories and context from this time.
The execution also benefited from a subtle yet well-designed lightscape from Bronwyn Pringle, with immaculate sound engineering from Tilman Robinson.
The performance did suffer from some issues of musical balance across the booming acoustic, especially when percussion was playing with full gusto over whispered and lightly sung passages. The performance was also affected by some slightly underdeveloped staging. Those small moments of hesitation did impact on the focus of the performance.
However, these were minor quibbles in what was a truly triumphant performance.