On a fragmented screen, reminiscent of torn, clumped and creased brown packaging paper, simple but striking animations depict refugees fleeing their home. The storm has come, tearing at their houses; their response is to turn into birds and fly across the raging sea. In a distant land, they peck for food, dodging the heavy feet of uncaring strangers; in the land they left behind, their grandfather is ​throttled by a bull-necked soldier.
These compelling images – also created from packing paper and animated by Whiterobot (Will Anderson and Ainslie Henderson) – draw the eye throughout Flit, a contemporary song cycle about human migration created by accordionist and composer Martin Green. The project grew out of his desire to record his grandmother’s stories for his own children and grandchildren; as a child she and her Jewish parents fled Austria in the 1930s as refugees. Hearing of her experiences Green’s interest was piqued; he began collecting more stories of migration, weaving together first hand accounts and songs inspired by such memories into a flawed but compelling whole.
We hear of men shaped by fear who are alone even with the families, their overwhelming drive to protect obliterating all other urges; of suitcases permanently packed in case urgent flight is required; of the importance of home and the strangeness of new lands. ‘They fear our flight/Our flight of fear,’ is one plaintive refrain.
Though the subject matter fascinates, musically Flit is less satisfying, despite the talented array of collaborators and performers both on and off stage. There’s a certain sameness about the songs; tempo and pace are relatively consistent throughout, lacking dynamic peaks and troughs, ebbs and flows. The sound mix too was frustrating; Green’s recordings with immigrants and refugees were sometimes buried in the mix, their voices and stories blurred and indistinct. Poetic interludes, pre-recorded and voiced by Scottish musician Aidan Moffat, helped diversify the sometimes repetitive score.
Vocally, Becky Unthank and Adam Holmes impressed; their beautifully blended voices added rich emotion to the glitchy electronics and oppressive guitars which dominated the soundscape, and Green’s piano accordion playing resulted in moments of sweeter, folky charm.
Parallels between the experiences of Green’s grandparents and those of migrants today did not pass without comment; his furious condemnation of contemporary politics was a striking, unforced highlight of the evening, his justifiable rage cutting through with blistering precision. The same cannot be said of Green’s humour elsewhere in the production, where his commentary, including a a joke about xenophobia meaning ‘fear of unwanted house-guests’, felt a trifle forced. Overall, an intelligent but underwhelming evening.
3 stars out of 5
Flit
Perth Concert Hall
17-18 February 2017
Perth International Arts Festival
perthfestival.com.au
10 February – 5 March 2017
