There was an air of festivity on Sunday night when the Karlheinz Company feted Eve de Castro-Robinson.
Above all, the evening proved just how much is missed when music is relegated to CDs, especially when Justine Cormack and Ashley Brown took to the torments of Tumbling Strains.
The intense physicality
of the playing, especially when Brown thumped his cello body or leaned forwards to create spidery Ligeti-like murmurs, added immeasurably to the piece.
Earlier on, Chaos of Delight III - sung by 13 women, conducted by Karen Grylls - came across as much more than simply painting with sound.
De Castro-Robinson offers us an adventure with so many possibilities of enjoyment, depending on whether you want to take a pathway that focuses on rhythm or timbre.
Sarah Watkins spun this liquid drift of light into just the right state of luminous suspension, while three new Len Lye settings, Knife Apple Sheer Brush, were skilfully delivered by Mette Leroy.
There were captivating sounds here, with tingling chromatics and dynamics that took us from a whisper to a veritable explosion, even if Lye's words were not always clear.
The 1994 Three Thumbnails came across as a lively party piece.
Claire Nash never lacked energy, as she lashed out with the thoughts of Satie, Cage and Stravinsky. Sometimes one wished for a more keenly modulated delivery.
Certainly, the final bars of the Cage section, with Nash crooning to her own ukelele, were spellbinding.
While the boys in the band offered everything from a sauntering Rite of Spring to Rachmaninov licks on bass guitar, Thumbnails needed a stronger theatrical treatment.
Sunday night's music was not all by de Castro-Robinson.
Musical tributes ranged from a scampering piece for flute and piano by John Rimmer to Helen and David Bowater's Evesdropping.
This electronic montage gave us de Castro-Robinson herself, birdcalls and ducks quacking the birthday song.
Gareth Farr's Three Pieces of Junk made quirky music with liquor bottles, flowerpots and kitchen items building up to a frenetic little Finale worthy of a Carl Stalling cartoon soundtrack.
Humdrum was Philip Dadson's contribution.
Beautifully lit, with shadows, silhouettes, solo drum, chanting and mysterious electronic traceries, it was a tribute to treasure.
