The concerto draws on gothic stories from Australia’s colonial past. What drew you to that theme?

This all began with a dance work I developed over several years with the brilliant Sally Richardson – who now works with Ten Days on the Island. She introduced me to a trove of unsettling colonial-era gothic tales. Although that original score is separate, when the opportunity arose to write a concerto for Claire – an incredible soloist and charismatic presence on stage – I returned to those narratives.

At their heart, these stories are about fear and strength. They're set in the Australian bush - a landscape that for the colonial imagination (when the stories were written) embodied mystery and danger. That sense of vastness and isolation speaks to unsettled internal worlds as well as the external landscape.

Could you share more about the specific stories that inspired each movement?

The first movement is based on Barbara Baynton’s The Chosen Vessel – a harrowing story about a woman left alone in the bush, terrified of a returning swagman. A passing rider hears her cries for help but mistakes her for a ghost and rides on. The music echoes the tension of that moment, with marimba and triplet rhythms suggesting horse hooves.

The second movement is a Sarabande inspired by Edward Dyson’s The Conquering Bush, where a woman is driven to a tragic decision by the overwhelming sound of birds and her own isolation. This is where we use water to alter the pitch of the instruments – symbolising a psychological unravelling.

The final movement is a kind of gothic release: a wild Tarantella inspired by Lola Montez and her scandalous Spider Dance, which wowed the Australian goldfields in the 1850s. It’s defiant and exhilarating – just like Claire.

You recently finished up as Artistic Director of Perth Festival. What’s next?

I’m curating a concert series at UKARIA in Adelaide – four concerts a year, blending new commissions with more familiar works.

It’s specifically with pop and crossover artists like Kate Miller-Heidke and Missy Higgins, and this year, Grace Barbé and Mama Kin. No Tasmanians yet, but I’m working on it!

On the composing side, I’m still writing for film and orchestral commissions. But more and more, I find joy in creating space for others.

Championing artists – especially First Nations artists – has been a long-standing part of my work, and I want the future to reflect the full richness and diversity of voices we have in this country.