Music / Ensemble Q & William Barton, Musica Viva. At Llewellyn Hall, October 5.  Reviewed by SARAH BYRNE.

I’m almost too excited about the closing piece to this concert to write about all the wonderful music that preceded it.

The premiere of William Barton’s Journey to the Edge of the Horizon was one of the most thrilling pieces of music I’ve heard in a long time. I don’t think I blinked for the full 15 minutes. But let me take you through the rest of the program first, each item of which was outstanding in its own right.

First up was Ligeti’s Six Bagatelles for Wind Quintet. Ligeti is one of my favourite composers, his lightness of touch all the more remarkable for the darkness of his suffering under the Nazis and Soviets. This five-piece iteration of Ensemble Q gave us a typically virtuosic of these these charming, sometimes cartoonish trifles.  The Rubato was lyrical, the Presto was martial, and the the Adagio, in memory of Bela Bartok, was suitably mournful. On any other evening this might have been the highlight of the program.

But exactly the same thing can be said of Paul Dean’s 2018 Concerto for Cello and Wind Quartet, introduced by the man himself in an endearing tribute to his wife Trish Dean, the said cellist (this was never going to be a piece for violin, he admitted). Evocative of long walks with frolicking dogs in dappled light, the storied Brisbane ensemble was at its very best here, and I especially loved the interplay between cello, horn (Peter Luff) and bassoon (David Mitchell).

After the interval we had the beautiful Brahms Cello Sonata No 1 in E Minor, arranged by Heribert Breuer for wind quintet instead of piano, which again did not disappoint. Trish Dean’s playing was gorgeous. Brahms is always lovely, and I appreciated the additional depth of the arrangement for the ensemble; especially in the second movement where the lush romance of the music would have been well-suited to ballet. I might like this more than the original.

And finally, the piece de resistance: first nations composer William Barton, in person, performing his new Journey to the Edge of the Horizon, this time with the full Ensemble Q. It’s hard to descrive how genuinely exciting this was. I love a didgeridoo; ancient, cryptic, sonorous and absolutely fascinating both to watch and to listen to, but I don’t tend to associate them with melody.

But Barton’s work brought us everything, from an opening that evoked the greenery and tonality of Dvorak, to a closing that evinced the ruggedness of an Elmer Bernstein film score. Switching among three didgeridoos, and thrilling vocals, Barton’s performance was understated, allowing the ensemble also to shine, but completely transporting. The landscape, he told us, was in his DNA, and the audience felt it in our souls. It was a remarkable work that had me on the edge of my seat, and I cannot praise it highly enough.