Cellists Galore!

Last Saturday night saw me at St. Andrew's Church in Halifax for a chamber music concert sponsored by the Cecilia Concerts organization. This year, the Cecilia Concerts' Musician-in-Residence is pianist Silvie Cheng, and this was the second of four concerts curated by her. The programme, entitled Cellobration, left her somewhat outnumbered, since the other musicians were a trio of cellists: Paul Wiancko, Andrew Yee, and Silvie's brother, Bryan Cheng.

 

Of course, Silvie Cheng wasn't really outnumbered because a musical collaboration of this sort is neither a race nor a contest.

 

It's often said that the cello is the instrument which most sounds like the human voice, so any concert involving a group of cello players is bound to create some beautiful sounds and textures. I've never been quite sure of the "human voice" comparison, but I do know from previous experiences that the multiplication of cellos definitely increases the warmth of the sound at the same time as it diminishes any edge on the tone. 

 

It's all the sadder, then, that not many composers have written works for multiple cellos. Naturally, then, this concert had to turn to arrangements as part of the programme, a couple of them heard in this concert for the first time. But there were also some splendid works for solo cello and piano, including a couple of gripping contemporary works.

The programme opened with the rhythmically fascinating The Wheel by Caroline Shaw. Andrew Yee gave a wide-ranging reading of this technically complex and musically substantial piece.

The other major contemporary work was 1 for cello and piano "Shifting Baselines" by Paul Wiancko. The work was written by Wiancko on a commission for the Cheng²Duo, but here was played by the composer himself, with both power and subtlety to spare. This is a particularly memorable composition, and I was gratified to hear it again.

The first half of the concert ended with David Popper's serene and richly harmonized Requiem, Op. 66, for 3 cellos and piano. 

Also memorable was the dramatic, even turbulent, Le Grand Tango by Astor Piazzolla. This, too, would benefit from repeated hearings. I can't resist the urge to say how thankful I was that this particular composer wasn't represented by either Libertango or Bordel: 1900, both of which are so overworked that no great harm would be done if the world's musicians set them aside for 20 years or so in favour of other and no less desirable Piazzolla compositions.

Duke Ellington's Such Sweet Thunder, cited as "Arr. Cheng" (I assume that means Bryan, but perhaps a joint effort) received a jazzy, upbeat performance that brought out the strong rhythmic patterns of the music.

I've left my two favourite moments of the concert to the end. The traditional Catalonian song El Cant dels Ocells ("Song of the Birds"), originally arranged by Pablo Casals for cello and piano, and here rearranged for the cello trio and piano by Paul Wiancko, brought serene melodic lines framed by the heartachingly tender birdsong trills at start and finish. 

 

The grand finale, the Peer Gynt Suite No. 1, Op. 46 by Grieg, arranged by Cheng, created all sorts of fascinating effects by tossing parts of the music around among the four musicians. The two slower movements, Morning Mood and Death of Åse both took full advantage of the lyrical qualities of the three cellists. The finale, In the Hall of the Mountain King, then let loose a rip-roaring race to the finish line which seemed about as energetic as one could possibly get -- until the succeeding encore, whose name I didn't catch, shot past at an even more frenetic pace.

Throughout the concert, all four artists gave well-thought and deeply-felt interpretations coupled with impressive and subtle musicianship. A gala Cellobration indeed!