Hearing the pioneering collaboration between beatboxer Tom Thum and Queensland Symphony Orchestra, I asked myself – when was the last time a musical instrument came from a different world into the orchestra, and stayed? The trombone, perhaps? Until Beethoven’s 5th and 6th symphonies, the trombone was a church instrument. With its ecclesiastical connotations – like organ music – it was an utterly alien sound in a concert hall. Yet nowadays it’s unthinkable to have a symphony orchestra without trombones. Many things start as novelties or even downright weird and end up a universal truth. 

I’d love to see Current end up a universal truth in the Brisbane calendar. This is the brand-new new music initiative of Queensland Symphony Orchestra, and their Tom Thum concert was the runaway hit. QSO had to put a second concert on sale after the first sold out, a triumphant change to new music concerts having to paper their houses.

Within a frame of 29 hours, Current comprised 13 events: one large orchestral concert, three chamber orchestra concerts, an installation-type performance outdoors, eight mini-recitals of chamber music, choral music and jazz, plus – and this innovation was invisible to the public because it was a closed-set event – a new works reading, in which the entire orchestra generously read through untested orchestral compositions of composers at varying career stages.

I made a note of things that struck me. 

By adroitly rostering between their symphony and chamber orchestra formations, QSO gave no fewer than 3 orchestral concerts in a single evening, the first starting at 6pm and the last starting at 9.30pm.

I happily lost count of the number of works receiving their world premiere performances, but they included works by me, Aphex Twin/Philip Glass, Tom Thum, Gordon Hamilton, Alan Lawrence, Michael Bakrncev, Isabella Gerometta.

Three of the collaborations (with Tom Thum, video game composer Tim Shiel, avant-jazz trio Trichotomy) fell imaginatively outside the definition of new music that we classical musicians conventionally use. No wonder one of the acts sold out.

The endearing moment when Trichotomy’s drummer John Parker donned safety goggles, poured liquid nitrogen into a mixing bowl, snap-froze his equipment and then made music from the sound of their defrosting.

Nine of the events were free – these were the mini-recitals and installation. And yet they were worth paying for. These were the performances during which the QSO players rested and their able colleagues took over, among them the Australian Voices singing masterpieces of Nigel Butterley, Kupka’s Piano playing some truly difficult Donatoni and Berio, the Rafael Karlen Quartet playing their saxophonist leader’s very welcome jazz compositions.

The mesmeric, ritualistic nature of walking on bridges between arbour and grasses and Nepalese temple to hear Benjamin Mark’s parkland installation work unfold literally in time and space.

The State Library of Queensland sure has some beautiful spaces for music-making. The Red Box, with its three-quarter wraparound glass walls overlooking the river, would only need glass floors to make complete the effect of floating. The Queensland Terrace is a huge outdoor-indoor space with marble floor, ceiling mirrors and improbable 6-metre high glass-and-oak wall cabinets displaying, um, crockery.

At the end of each big event, the QSO’s marketing team handed out little cards saying “Help us do it again next year”. You bet I will. And I’m hoping lots of you will join in.