Summer 2025 Newsletter

WELCOME

We are looking forward to seeing many of you at the 2025 Annual Viol School in beautiful Hobart/nipaluna, Sat 8 to Mon 10 March Viol.  Thanks to the support of Van Diemen’s Band, we are also thrilled to offer the opportunity to spend the final afternoon of the school with one of the world’s greatest viola da gamba virtuosos, Paolo Pandolfo. Paolo will also be giving two solo concerts in the Hobart Town Hall on Sunday March 9. What a fantastic start to 2025! Below you will find viol news from Australia and abroad, upcoming concerts, CD reviews, and interviews with members John Weretka and Sachar Amos.

–Ruby Brallier & Alasdiar McAndrew

PAOLO PANDOLFO: Upcoming Concerts in Australia

  • Adieu Sweet Love – The Art of Melancholy: A performance at Holy Trinity Launceston on March 7, 2025. This concert will showcase works by Hume, DeMachy, Marais, Ste. Colombe, J.S. Bach, and Abel.
  • The Six SuitesA performance at Hobart Town Hall on Sunday, March 9, 2025. Pandolfo will perform the complete Bach Cello Suites, adapted for viola da gamba.
  • Adieu Sweet Love – The Art of MelancholyA performance at the Melbourne Recital Centre on Wednesday, March 12, 2025. This concert will showcase works by Hume, DeMachy, Marais, Ste. Colombe, J.S. Bach, and Abel.

 

AROUND AUSTRALIA: Viol Activities in Melbourne

On Saturday November 16, David “Knobby” Clarke hosted another workshop (the third so far) at his house, which was attended this time by 10 people.  Given the many abilities and experiences of the players: some relatively new to the viol, others with years of experience, Knobby carefully chose music that would appeal to us all.  The pieces were:

  • Holborne, Pavan 13 (in five parts)
  • Holborne, Galliard 14 (in five parts)
  • Byrd: Kyrie from 4-part Mass
  • Byrd: “All as a sea” in 5 parts

All of these are tuneful, well written (especially the two Byrd pieces), and Knobby had the host’s prerogative of leading the consort by setting the tempo, and announcing bar numbers for those of us (like me) with a propensity for getting mentally sidetracked, and lost.   With more people than parts, we could double up, which was particularly helpful for the beginners.

Between playing Knobby made a few remarks about the history of the pieces, and some general comments about the composers and their attitudes to consort writing.  Knobby’s scholarship and geniality make these afternoon workshops a delight.  And the afternoon tea simply added to our pleasure.

I thought that this exemplified what consort playing is about: friends and acquaintances getting together to play through this most enticing repertoire, with no other aim in mind but to play as well as they can, and enjoy the music.  Knobby’s afternoon workshops continue to hit the spot admirably.

–Alasdair McAndrew

 

MEMBER SPOTLIGHT

JOHN WERETKA, past Secretary of AVdGS, musician, historian, expert viol player

What got you interested in early music, and the viol in particular?

I got started in early music when my best friend asked me aged about 12 what my favourite part of Messiah was. I think he probably knew something about Messiah but this question was definitely an attempt to make himself look culturally superior to me. I came from a family where there was a lot of Classical music, although it was mainly nineteenth-century music. I fumbled my way through the question about Messiah but I swore I’d never look that dumb again. I got a recording of Messiah from somewhere and made sure I knew my way around it. That experience set the agenda for a fair bit of my life — my passion for early music, my ultimately becoming a singer (I found The trumpet shall sound inspirational), and my focus on Handel during my undergraduate musicology degree (I wrote my Honours thesis on Handel’s first Italian opera, Rodrigo ovver Vincer se stesso è la maggior vittoria). My encounter with the viol happened about a decade after this. I’d come from three years of fruitless study trying to learn the cornetto and was eager to learn something I wouldn’t make such a soul-destroying sound on (I love the cornetto, but never amounted to anything as a player of it). I think the film Tous les matins du monde had come out a few years before and I had been transfixed by the music. I’ve never watched the film again and there are some moments in it (including one line spoken by the young Marais, played by Gérard Depardieu’s son) that I cannot think about without cringing — but it introduced me to the viol. I loved the viol’s interiority and still do.

 

When did you start learning, and who did you study with?  Indeed, who have you studied with?

I started learning the viol in my early 20s and so have been playing it for over half my life now. I recall that I asked Ruth Wilkinson whether she ever took on adult beginners at a rehearsal of a Bach cantata we were both involved in, and she thankfully took me on. She learnt from Jordi Savall and he apparently always told her that you only needed ten years to learn to play the viol. I think I had weekly lessons with Ruth for at least that long and I have gone back periodically to play works to her as I learn them. I learnt from Laura Vaughan at the same time I was learning from Ruth. They are two quite different players but there’s definitely some of each of them in my playing. Apart from that, I have learnt most from colleagues playing in consort, often at viol schools, or from playing in consorts overseas as I have been travelling. As a person who teaches the viol quite a lot, I also learn tons from the people I teach.

 

What are your particular interests as a viol player?

I really love the six-part consort music, nearly all of which I know quite well, with particular favourites being the consorts of Coleman, Coprario, and White. I find the six-part texture forces composers to be very inventive with their scoring, the voicing of chords, and contrapuntal interplay in the interests of not bogging down the textures. I also love music for the lyra viol, particularly the duo and trio literature. It doesn’t get played nearly enough. Laura Vaughan (and I hope I’m not speaking out of school) told me once that many people try lyra viol music but, once they have mastered tablature, they realise that the music is actually often very hard and stop playing it. Don’t stop: it’s amazing music. Of the mainstream composers, I absolutely love Lawes and Locke. Who knows where English music might have gone had Lawes not died so young. And the four-part consorts of Locke, difficult as they are, are just mind-blowingly good. Of composers of solo music, I love Schenck and played a lot of him when I was learning from Ruth. I also have a soft spot for the music of Abel and the Berlin school.

 

What are your future aims and hopes as a viol player? 

Because I didn’t come from a modern string background, I’ve always felt at something of a loss with the bow. I mean, a bow is just so unnatural when it all comes down to it. If I were really to criticise my playing, I think I don’t use the bow expressively enough. If there were one thing I’d change about my viol playing, it would be to devote more time to that. I read books like John Hsu’s on French viol technique and just marvel at the range of expression French viol players expected from their performances.

 

How do you think more people, especially younger people, can be encouraged to start learning the viol?  What prevents them?  Are there any plans of creating an AMEB viola da gamba syllabus?  (I believe Miriam Morris was very keen on this, but that was a long time ago.)  

We’re definitely not getting younger as a community with the youngest members of our society now well into their 30s or even early 40s. I think there are many intersecting issues here. The viol basically fell out of use in western music during the nineteenth century and, despite some enthusiasm, it’s never really come back into the mainstream — it’s like attempts to revive Welsh in that way. It also doesn’t really have a viable modern repertoire, which means that all its repertoire is historical. And that leads me to the really major issue, which is the declining engagement with and awareness of anything before the last fifty years or so in younger people. It’s increasingly the case that younger people need to have the very basic stuff in history — the kind of thing we once took for granted in a literate society — explained to them, let alone obscure stuff like Caroline court culture and the refined circumstances of social music making in seventeenth-century households. When you have to explain what a Holy Roman Emperor is (as I have had to do), what hope is there for the viol? I would also note that the viol (and engagement with early music in general) emerged in the late 19 th and early 20 th centuries as counter-culture movement, whether you look at the foundations in the Arts and Crafts Movement with Dolmetsch or the period in the 60s and 70s when the last generation of players was added. Those counter-cultural imperatives aren’t there any longer, and the early music movement has also been mainstreamed — both of these factors have had an impact on drawing people to the music and the instruments. There haven’t been plans to address viol education institutionally (for example through the AMEB) for years and I can’t see it would make any sense (particularly financial) for them to do so. 

 

What advice might you give to the amateur player?

I have to do this all the time with undergraduate viol players I teach at the University of Melbourne — play as boldly as you can and with the best sound you can. I think the two greatest faults I see in viol players are making an insubstantial sound and making an inconsistent or consistently unlovely sound. Make a sound you can fall in love with. Life is much too short to sound bad.

Where do you see the future of viol playing in Australia – and how do you see yourself as being part of it?

We continue to have the odd person go to study abroad (like Reidun Turner) and many of us go abroad to participate in summer courses or to play with others in other countries. So Australians are still being represented in the world of viol playing, and local teachers continue to inspire players and to be significant in the earlier phases of professional training. I don’t foresee a great renaissance for the viol in Australia or internationally for that matter. The last pope talked about the Catholic Church as being ‘smaller but purer’, a recognition of the shrinking of a social movement but a call to remain authentic and I think the viol community will be a bit like that in the future. I am lucky to work at the University of Melbourne’s Faculty of Music where I train about six viol players from scratch every year. I don’t know that any of them has kept it up after the experience of playing in our Medieval and Renaissance Ensemble, but about half of them come out each year playing really well. If I can’t keep them playing the viol, I hope at least to have left them with a vibrant impression of the capacity and repertoire of the instrument.

 

Do you think the current AVdGS is representing the interests of viol players in the best way, and if not, what sort of improvements would you recommend?

There are always calls for the committees of societies like AVdGS (and I’ve been on a few) to ‘do more’. People, money, energy, and sometimes ideas are sometimes at a premium and those who makes calls for ‘doing more’ need to come up with workable ideas that have people and funds behind them. Having been in the ‘we need to do more’ conversation a few times over the years, I’m not sure I’ve heard many ideas that will work within the constraints of population, cultural makeup, and general engagement with cultural activities we have in the country that would materially change our situation. So I like to turn this kind of question on its head and say that we should be thankful that we have a committee that puts its hands up to lead the society and to run valuable events like the viol school year in, year out, without complaint.

Anything other comments you’d like to make?

I am always struck by how generous players in foreign countries are. I have played in the United Kingdom, the Republic of Ireland, Canada, and the United States just having written to someone and mentioned that I am coming. These are great opportunities to get to know new people, new instruments, and new repertoire — as well as to introduce some of your own. Occasionally you find you’re doing your hosts a favour. I played in San Francisco once in a group with Julie Jeffrey in it. I proposed that we played the Coleman six-part music, which she edited, only to learn the group had never played it before. When I was in Ireland, most of the viol players of Ireland came together (which they don’t usually do) to host me for a day of playing at Queen’s University in Belfast. And recently I was in Edinburgh and played with the resident consort, Squair [sic] Mile. They were just incredible players and the evening was something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. Be bold and put yourself forward. You can make new friends with the viol! I would also encourage particularly intermediate players to have lessons (at all) and with anyone you can find to give you a lesson. Viol schools are normally great places to make contact with teachers. My experience is most people will find time even in the hectic schedule of a viol school to help out a committed student.

–Alasdair McAndrew

 

LOOKING BACK: A Taste of Australia at the VdGSA Conclave in Forest Grove, Oregon

Three of our very own talented Australian viola da gamba players, Ruby Brallier, Raja Stephenson, and Victoria Watts, made their way to the 62nd VdGSA Conclave and participated in the various programs on offer, from Seasoned Players to Consort Co-Op to the wide range of classes that spanned every skill level. Faculty members included a few familiar names–Sarah Mead, Lisa Terry, Tina Chancey, and Mary Springfelds–all of whom have made the trip to Oz for an Easter Viol School.

One of the major highlights of the event was the incredible concert line-up, featuring performances by Quaver (Marie Szuts, Loren Ludwig, Tobi Szuts, and Brady Lanier) and Wildcat Viols (Joanna Blendulf, Julie Jeffrey, Annalisa Pappano, and Elisabeth Reed). Both ensembles presented a mix of early music and contemporary works, giving attendees a chance to appreciate a broad range of viola da gamba styles. The week also featured a special Consort Co-op concert on Friday evening, showcasing the modern premiere of some fascinating sacred madrigals by Luca Marenzio (1553-1599).

The Live Auction was particularly lively, raising funds for scholarships and giving attendees the chance to bid on some exciting items, including a full-service Vegemite toast experience provided by Vic Watts. Several board members tried this quintessential Aussie spread for the first time after winning it at the auction, and while their reactions were mixed, the experience was certainly memorable. TimTams and Vegemite Shapes were also available in the Silent Auction, so no one left without a taste of Australia!

Ruby Brallier, Raja Stephenson, and Victoria Watts at Conclave 2024

CD REVIEWS

Edited by Alasdair McAndrew

“Tωo” with Jennifer Eriksson, Tommie Andersson and Susie Bishop
Note: the middle character of the name is the lower case Greek letter omega.  But
in plain text it’s “Two”.

This is a slightly odd name, since there are in fact three musicians involved.  But
this recording was envisaged as consisting mainly of unaccompanied pieces for viol,
and for lutes; I suspect then that the last piece might have been added later.

It’s a very pleasant CD, as you’d expect given the musicians involved: careful,
precise playing; and if the music isn’t some of the greatest (with one or two
exceptions) it’s “easy on the ears”.

The selection is somewhat curious: starting with a sonata by Handel for Mechanical
Clock, arranged by Tommie Andersson for the gallichon – a bass lute.  It’s a cute
piece, but unremarkable.  Next is a suite by Du Buisson, of whom very little is
known.  All his music is for unaccompanied viol, and this is a suite in D minor.
It’s perfectly idiomatic music, and well written for the viol, but to me it doesn’t
have the depth of, say, De Machy.  Next up are three pieces for guitar by Johann Losy
van Losinthal, a Bohemian lutenist-composer, highly regarded in his time.  Then two
pieces from an Abel sonata.  Interestingly, this is not one of the more difficult
sonatas from the well known Drexel manuscript, but one of the easier sonatas written
for the Countess of Pembroke.  However, it is very elegantly played.

The next piece was in fact my favourite: a sarabande from a suite called “Spinning
Forth”, written by the Sydney composer Paul Cutlan for Jenny Eriksson, who commissioned it.  In fact this is a rewrite – the suite  was originally scored for viol and harpsichord.  It is a
lovely sonorous, majestic piece – and in fact one of the longest on the recording.

A little adagio for glass harmonica by Mozart, arranged by Andersson for gallichon,
is next.  I don’t think this piece shows Mozart, or Andersson, or the gallichon, at
their best.  It’s nice enough, but pretty lightweight.

The best thing on the recording for most people is a suite by Marais, in this case
cobbled together from pieces in the 2nd and 4th books.  This is quite in keeping with
the practice of the time, and it’s very nicely done.  The Branle de Village at the
end is terrific.

Finally, another really fine piece: “J’avais crû qu’en vous aymant”, which comes from
a collection called “Brunetes et petit aires tendre … ” published in 1705 by
Christophe Ballard.  There is nothing about this piece in the accompanying booklet.
All I can find is that a “brunete” or “brunette” was a song style of the time, and
known principally from Ballard’s three compilations.

The CD is an “extended play” recording, lasting slightly under 40 minutes.  It can be
bought (at about half the price of a full CD) from anyone that stocks Move
recordings, or you can listen to it on Spotify (as I did).  The liner booklet can be
read on the Move recordings website.

I do have one complaint: about the use of the word “solo”. It is used in the liner
booklet as though it means “unaccompanied” which it doesn’t.  I think the distinction
between “solo” and “unaccompanied” is worth keeping.  Marais wrote a lot of music for
solo viol; Abel wrote a lot of music for unaccompanied viol.

“Fika,” Jennifer Eriksson and Elysian Fields

I am more enthusiastic about this recording than “Tωo” because it’s much more
lively, direct, and emotionally fulfilling.  It’s in a sort of jazz-folk idiom, based on
Swedish folk songs, and is a homage to both Eriksson’s and Andersson’s heritage.  I
myself know very little Swedish music other than the winsome music of Hugo Alfvén,
and the gritty, uncompromising symphonies of Allan Pettersson.  But Fika is lovely –
the sounds of saxophone, violin, piano, electric viol (but of course!), drums and
bass all combine in a way that’s deeply satisfying.  The singer – Susie Bishop – here
sings with a slightly husky edginess to her voice which seems to perfectly complement
the music.

I happen not to like jazz very much, but this recording is very appealing.  Many of
the songs are in Swedish (the liner booklet provides full translations) but some are
in English.  And there are a few instrumental tracks.

There’s not really much I can say about this recording, as I am ignorant of its style
and of the music.  And I know hardly anything about Swedish folk music, except that
the recording sadly lacks a nyckelharpa.  Maybe next time.

But it sounds wonderful, it’s the sort of music that just carries you away, and I
think you’d find it hard not to be enamoured of it.

As with “Tωo”, the album is available on Spotify, and the booklet can be read in full
on the Move website.

 

MEMBER SPOTLIGHT

Sachar Amos, luthier and mandolin player 

What got you interested in lutherie, and when did you start, and who did you study with?

My journey into the world of lutherie began at the age of 11 when I started playing the mandolin playing various styles of folk music. It was not until I was 19, when I began taking violin lessons, that I discovered my passion for the art of lutherie.  Despite pursuing a course in modern furniture design and making at RMIT TAFE, I knew I yearned for something old world and traditional.

My luck changed in 1994, when I came across an advertisement for a job at Ferwerda violin shop in Hawthorn, Melbourne. This marked the beginning of my apprenticeship in bow making, during which I spent 4 years training in the craft of bow restoration and the fundamentals of violin making and repair.  In 1997, I travelled to Galway, on the west coast of Ireland, where I worked in a general lutherie workshop for six months. There, I broadened my skill set by crafting an assortment of plucked instruments, such as mandolins, mandolas, Celtic harps & guitars.

Upon returning to Australia in 1998, I embarked on a two-decade-long journeyman phase, during which I worked and learned from numerous luthiers workshops in Melbourne. Notably, I spent an invaluable ten years at Puglisi violins, where I gained extensive experience and knowledge in violin restoration.

Over the years, my dedication to the art of lutherie has allowed me to forge a reputation, and I continue to hone my craftsmanship to create exceptional stringed instruments.

 

What’s your particular interest and passions as a luthier?

I’m fascinated by the rich history of stringed instruments and the master luthiers who came before me.  The history is a bridge connecting me to the past and guiding me in my role as a custodian of ancient methods and traditions, helping me find fulfillment in carrying on the legacy of craftsmanship that has been established over centuries.  My passion for lutherie ebbs and flows throughout the creative process, involving a source of inspiration, a desire to create something beautiful, enduring and of exceptional quality. From there, comes the intricate work of crafting the instrument, which requires patience, concentration and perseverance.

At times the process can be frustrating, but when the pieces begin to come together and the instrument takes shape, the passion usually kicks back in to drive me forward.  Ultimately , the culmination of this passion is passing the instrument onto its new owner, who will bring it life to it through music. This act of sharing my craft with another and entrusting them with the care of the instrument, brings a sense of fulfillment and satisfaction that fuels my dedication to the art of lutherie.


I know you’ve made some treble viols – would you be interested in making more, as well as tenor and bass viols? What are the constraints here?

Yes I would be interested to make more viols of any size that they player requires.  There’s not really any constraints other than the time and energy available to make something. I see my role as being a versatile luthier who can make customised instruments to whoever is seeking a unique &/or fine quality instrument that are often rare and hard to find.

An important aspect of making custom instruments requires you to find ways to leap over the hurdles that come your way in a design or function sense.

 

How do you go about establishing your expertise as a viol maker? A viol, after all, is a significant time expenditure of yours, and a significant monetary expense of the buyer!

I let the work speak for itself!  Digital marketing such as social media and websites etc. are very useful forms of marketing but for me it’s more old fashioned…Make something really, really good, if someone tries it and likes it, they can order one for themselves, if they don’t then they can buy something else.  The instruments I make will then get shown around by the player to their music community and become promotional in that sense. If someone sees my work and thinks that its up to their expectation then they contact me and make an order.  This is an organic approach that is ancient and still works perfectly well.

 

What do you see as the principal difficulties of being an early music luthier in Australia?

Australia’s Population size and geographic isolation are an issue. There’s not enough of a critical mass to support larger workshops and education institutes around lutherie so it’s made training of new luthiers very difficult to happen here.

However, early music seems to be growing in Australia and whilst it’s challenging at the moment, in the future there may be the numbers to encourage more luthiers to move over from violin or guitar making.

Access to authentic historical instruments is also a hurdle but is somewhat helped these days by great online resources such as photographs, plans etc. Nothing beats seeing the real thing but we’re able to get a great deal of information online nonetheless.

 

And what do you see as the future?

In regards to the restoration of instruments in Australia, in the short term future, I see a shrinkage of lutherie expertise here as a large cohort of experienced luthiers continue to retire over the next decade.

In regards to making, luthiers will continue to follow their interests and the commissions they receive, this depends on a lot of things but current interest in early music seems to be strong & positive so hopefully its future is too.

–Alasdair McAndrew

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