Tales of love and redemption in Dante and Beatrice

MUSIC
Dante & Beatrice: Lovers and Visionaries ★★★★
fortyfivedownstairs, April 22

Epic tales of love and redemption seem out of place in our dystopian world, yet they continue to inspire artists and audiences, as this second concert in fortyfivedownstairs’ Chamber Music Festival bore witness.

From artist William Blake to composer Ferenc Liszt, Dante’s sprawling 14th-century masterpiece, The Divine Comedy (a chronicle of the poet’s journey through hell, purgatory and paradise) has long sparked artistic imagination.

Pianist Ben Fu’s masterly account of Liszt’s “fantasia quasi sonata”, After A Reading of Dante, provided a suitably dramatic point of departure, deftly mixing devilish technical feats with romantic yearning.

At the centre of the program stood a new song cycle for four voices and piano by Gordon Kerry, Dante and Beatrice, the libretto adapted by Kerry and Margot Costanzo from the 1911 translation by inaugural chief justice of Australia, Sir Samuel Griffith.

Kerry has worn his considerable literary and musical erudition lightly, creating an engaging work with clear storylines and effective dramaturgy, enfleshed in an evocative musical idiom which subtly references plainchant and British mid-century modernism.

Cast from strength, each of the performers vividly characterised the cycle’s fours scenes. Soprano Rachael Joyce embodied the beatific Beatrice who sends a solemn Virgil (baritone Christopher Hillier) to guide the passionate Dante (tenor Owen Boyd) through hell’s labyrinth and the fires of purgatory towards heavenly joy. Along the way, Dante dreams of the sensuous, scarlet woman Francesca da Rimini (mezzo-soprano Dimity Shepherd) damned to hell for adultery.

Solidly supported by the unflappable Coady Green on piano, the singers gave a masterclass in crystalline diction.

Offering a final tribute to Francesca da Rimini in a different musical vein, Joyce gave a searingly heartfelt rendition of Gulliver Poole’s Paper Love, a torch song in the grand jazz tradition.

Even if utopia is unreachable, Dante’s inspiration offers sustenance in difficult times.

Reviewed by Tony Way

MUSIC
The Mountain Goats ★★★★
Forum Theatre, April 17

Attending a Mountain Goats concert is a little like going to church – there’s an air of ecstatic reverence that only intensifies as the lights go down and the American trio takes the stage.

It’s been almost a decade since the band, led by the charismatic John Darnielle, toured Australia, so you can imagine the fervour.

Darnielle’s erudite, personal lyricism is contrasted with often cheerful folksy music – a juxtaposition he acknowledges when he introduces a song: “This is an up-tempo number about how life will be after the ultimate collapse.” These literate songs are intriguing poems in miniature, but they’re also a lot of fun.

Live, the Mountain Goats offer an experience that is tailored for each night. Unlike other bands, there’s no predictable set list, even when touring on the back of a new release, as they are – in 2025, the band released its 24th album, Through This Fire Across From Peter Balkan.

There are a few songs from that record in the set, but it’s otherwise a grab-bag of fan favourites and deep cuts alike, as well as a brand-new song, premiered in Sydney earlier in the week.

Early issues with the sound mix (including an ear-shatteringly bass-heavy Woke Up New) resolve as the set continues, flitting from mood to mood. Multi-instrumentalist Matt Douglas adds colour and depth with saxophone on the moody Moon Over Goldsboro, and a surprise performance of Michael Myers Resplendent – not included on the written set list – delights the most devoted of fans.

Douglas and drummer Jon Wurster depart the stage mid-set for Darnielle to play a few songs solo. It’s here that the frontman really connects with the crowd, offering stories from across his prolific career and playing impromptu snippets of decades-old songs.

“We live in a world where you don’t get a lot of improvisation in a rock set,” he says, as if to explain the off-the-cuff nature of this segment.

It’s lovely to hear Darnielle’s unadorned voice on its own, but equally so when his bandmates join in again halfway through Younger, culminating in a display of technical wizardry by Douglas on an extended saxophone solo.

The only two songs you’re guaranteed to hear at a Mountain Goats concert are This Year and No Children, and both are received to rapturous cheers and word-for-word singalongs.

A treat for longtime fans and newcomers alike, this generous gig is a testament to the band’s staying power.
Reviewed by Giselle Au-Nhien Nguyen

JAZZ

THE THREE SEAS ★★★★
The JazzLab, April 19

Antahkarana – the name of The Three Seas’ new album – is a Sanskrit term meaning ‘inner instrument’, describing the union of thought, emotion, body and spirit. The members of this Indian-Australian ensemble have been working together for 15 years, and on Sunday night at JazzLab, it was clear that their own inner instruments were perfectly attuned.

Theirs is no shallow fusion of disparate traditions and cultures. Instead, these artists have developed a shared musical language informed by their respective backgrounds – jazz, rock, Bengali devotional music, Himalayan folk –forged through a process of mutual discovery and creation.

Presented by the Melbourne Jazz Co-op, Sunday’s concert opened in a mystical mood, with drone-like electric bass, rippling guitar and harmonium forming an undulating bed for Deo Ashish Mothey’s resonant Nepalese vocals. Gaurab Chatterjee’s fluttering frame drum then beckoned to Matt Keegan’s alto sax, the pair ushering in a mild rhythmic groove that gradually became more insistent and trance-like.

As one piece segued seamlessly into the next, Mothey began strumming brightly on the dotora (fretless banjo) and Bengali vocalist Raju Das Baul descended the stairs, his flowing hair and robes echoing the surging magnificence of his voice. His Baul songs may be steeped in ancient traditions but here they were very much alive, brimming with in-the-moment invention and vitality.

Nestled under his arm was a khamak, a drum with variable pitch that would prove as animated and expressive as his voice. Often he would engage in extraordinarily deft duets with Keegan (on an equally dexterous sax) or lock in tight with Chatterjee’s muscular drumming at the kit.

Brendan Clark’s bass and Hilary Geddes’ guitar could sparkle like a harp or a sitar, or dig deep into earthy riffs and distortion-flecked solos. Odd metres and intricate rhythmic patterns nestled within seductive, head-nodding grooves. The versatile Mothey offered a Nepalese folk song, a playful Hindi rap and a mesmerising solo where he simultaneously sang and played the murchunga (jaw harp).

The band’s uplifting final number, Prithibi, was composed by Chatterjee’s father in the 1990s, and became a huge hit in Bengal and beyond. Set to a languid ¾ sway, the song featured a wordless chorus in which all six band members joined – along with half the audience, singing with joyful gusto. The song’s lyrics warn of the dangers of favouring isolation over connection;here, on this night, connection had clearly triumphed.
Reviewed by Jessica Nicholas

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