It led to a lifelong love of jazz, particularly the smooth tones of saxophonists such as Gerry Mulligan and Stan Getz, so seeing multi-instrumentalist and composer Adam Page on sax at the Wānaka Festival of Colour was always going to be a treat.
Festival goers may know Page from his spectacularly skilful solo looping shows and inspirational tutoring with local schools, but he’s also a renowned composer, working with orchestras and others on both sides of the Tasman.
Compositions on his highly acclaimed album The Colours of Grief — not the snappiest title to attract casual buyers — are astounding cries from the heart.
The live performance was a masterclass in turning emotion — even grief — into an achingly beautiful set with Page fronting cellist Ellen Walters, pianist Anita Scwabe, guitarist Callum Allardice and Phoebe Johnson on electric bass.
Opening tracks Red and Grey expressed anger and emptiness respectively. Both felt deeply contemplative but more softly sad than sombre.
Tense Black was anger, guilt and regret, plaintive, pierced with pain that was reflected but diluted in Purple, a pensive piano solo for Page.
Orange took its cue from Grey, lamenting loss and leaving but finding great beauty in the support of family and friends, while Brown reconnected with the world, albeit a changed world.
Green was a breathtaking antidote to anguish, building on the growth of hope but with a new awareness of impermanence. Gentle, optimistic, transformative.
For Page, writing and playing Colours has been cathartic following the death of a friend.
For me, this haunting work suggests that the grief of missing someone means that you were once lucky enough to have experienced having known someone worth missing. That can count for a lot. I’m adding Colours to my playlist.
Adam Page — The Colours of Grief
Pacific Crystal Palace
Wednesday, March 29
- Review by Nigel Zega
