_{Cover Image: Sara Duhig conducts WASO and community musicians in Side-by-Side Symphony at UWA’s Winthrop Hall on Saturday. Image by Daniel James Grant.}

Side-By-Side

West Australian Symphony Orchestra/Sara Duhig

Winthrop Hall, University of Western Australia

Saturday 12 September 2026

Sorcerers and apprentices made magic together when WA Symphony Orchestra musicians and their community counterparts combined in WASO’s Side-By-Side concert at Winthrop Hall on Saturday.

The annual collaboration came together over two days of rehearsals and one hour of performance under the baton of Sara Duhig in a programmatic bill ranging from Aboriginal astronomy to Paul Dukas’ Sorcerer’s Apprentice.

Soft strings and tuned percussion opened an ethereal soundscape, serenely textured, for Jessica Wells’ Emu in the Sky, evoking eons of wonder and Indigenous insight into limitless space.

Emu in the Sky is a dark pattern amid the Milky Way, interwoven with the Southern Cross and resonant of endless possibilities in Wells’ contemporary composition, conducted by Duhig with broad gestures building a lush palette towards a lustrous cadence.

Modest Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain followed with surging strings and urgent woodwind glissandos leading stentorian brass and percussion in furious agreement.

A lyrical call-and-response broke out between woodwind and brass, resolving in strings then returning to ominous brass unleashing more storm and fury.

Dialogue between sections worked seamlessly, from trumpets and basses high on the raked stage through low brass and horns to woodwind and strings, flowing out to family and friends across the hall in waves of symphonic sound.

Solemn tolling of bells ushered in a gentle epilogue in strings and harp with clarinet and flute highlights, blissful at the close.

West Australian James Ledger’s Indian Pacific departed next in a 30th anniversary revival. Jagged, disjointed chords and urgent bowing set the titular trans-continental train in locomotion as violins and woodwind painted panoramic vistas as if viewed from a moving window.

Offbeat rhythms challenged cohesion, neatly controlled from the podium, as a battery of percussive effects mimicked the mechanics of rail travel in a perennial favourite rewarded by the parochial audience with enthusiastic applause.

If any piece would test the discipline of mentors and mentees in this composite orchestra it had to be the Sorcerer’s Apprentice.

All started calmly enough in strings and woodwind, a quiet day at the office with the boss away, until bassoons slowly launched the pulsating drive of magical forces gone wrong. It was like AI, said Duhig, clearly comfortable amid chaotic, unruly measures and inexorable energy.

Four trumpets blazed out alarms and all fell silent, resetting in bassoons to repeat the sequence, this time with extra sauce and sorcery in a cascading orchestral cacophony. More alarms called another sudden halt, a gathering stride and dramatic conclusion.

Finally, highlights from John Williams’ film score for Jurassic Park conjured dark mystery as giants walked among us to the sound of majestic horns and strings, drawing in all ranks to swell the theme.

Peals of brass and percussion spilled to lyrical strains across the stage, four trumpets again setting the pace with brazen assurance as the orchestra paused then resumed for a gloriously florid finale.