Music review: Abel Selaocoe and the Australian Chamber Orchestra
A musician of dazzling originality, Abel Selaocoe unleashed his all with the Australian Chamber Orchestra. The Adelaide Town Hall has never seen anything quite like this concert.
Cross-genre collaboration has become so synonymous with the ACO that it is virtually the norm for this justly famous group. They like to tease, taunt and otherwise challenge classical music’s boundaries from all directions, and audiences love them for it.
But partnering with Abel Selaocoe was something else altogether; nothing could have prepared the listener for it, and one sensed that even for the ACO musicians, this encounter proved to be so wildly different that little could have prepared them for it either.
Appearing for the first time in Australia, Selaocoe is a unique package. A cellist, singer and composer all in one, this 33-year-old from the battle-scarred Sebokeng region near Johannesburg brings deeply traditional flavours to his music-making, and does so with a passionate belief in the future of his native South Africa. On top of that, he is an absolutely fearless improviser who thrives on the excitement of the moment and loves to engage with a crowd.
It was impossible to imagine where this collaboration might go.
Adding to its barrel of surprises, Richard Tognetti was not present in this concert — surely the ACO’s director would have wanted to jam on stage with someone so far out of the box, one wondered? Still, with Helena Rathbone ably taking the lead, the ACO had something rather special of its own up its sleeve.
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Selaocoe greets the audience effusively, and before playing he speaks about the power of improvisation as a natural part of human life when we communicate. Whippy arpeggios and loud twangy pizzicato notes from his cello break the air, and seconds later he opens his mouth in husky tones and low, guttural throat singing.
Mic’d for extra resonance, these vocalisations could be satanic except that Selaocoe proves unfailingly good-humoured and wears a smile. He is about sharing liberated spirit and joy.
Adrenalin builds in the frenzied energy and bruising rhythmic power of the first piece, ‘Qhawe’ (Hero), in which he is joined by the ACO and percussionist Sidiki Dembélé. Of Malian Griot background, the latter is a master of intricately colourful drumming.
What follows is not so much Giovanni Platti’s Cello Concerto in D major, as advertised, as a complete reimagining of that work using the same unique sound palette. One’s early discovery is to find that Selaocoe has a natural way with baroque music, by virtue of his clean, tapered bowing style and purity of intonation; and this concerto, very much like Vivaldi, is right up his alley. He propels the solo part with fine care and craft over a backdrop of cleanly driven strings and pattering percussion from Dembélé.
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Abel Selacoe and the Australian Chamber Orchestra. Photo: Nic Walker / Supplied
Improvisation in between movements and a daredevil tempo in the finale were totally cheeky, and their combined musicianship exhilarating.
A snapped string on Timo-Veikko Valve’s cello midway was the only mishap; but in fuss-free protocol, the cellist next to him, Melissa Barnard, handed over her instrument and quickly exited backstage to repair his. Selaocoe seemed to not even notice.
ACO’s own contribution to the program was Nigel Westlake’s moving new work, ‘Ascension’. Written in memory of his late mother, Heather Westlake, who played violin in the ACO the 1980s, its rising figurations and wide, divisi scoring alluded directly to Ralph Vaughan Williams’ ‘The Lark Ascending’ – which was apparently one of her favourite works. With its slowly rising waves of harmony and great depth of feeling, ‘Ascension’ is a beautiful addition to the modern string repertoire.
Giovanni Sollima’s concerto-like composition ‘When We Were Trees’, for two cellos and strings, offered the most musical interest in terms of the program’s collaborative items. Valve sat alongside Selaocoe for this, the two exchanging limpid phrases that seemed to recall the tranquillity of nature. The two have very different playing styles; Selaocoe more momentary and sensual, Valve’s more concerned with melodic through-line. How fascinating this was to compare, and as this work’s movements grew in complexity, these two musicians were utterly gobsmacking in their virtuosity.
Other pieces composed by Selaocoe — ‘Tshepo’ (Faith), ‘Lerato’ (Love) and ‘Ka Bohaleng’ (On the Sharp Side) — reinforced one’s conclusion that there can surely be no other musician like him anywhere. He gives himself much latitude both as a singer and cellist — far more than one is accustomed to seeing on the classical stage — and with that comes enormous self-confidence, a liberating sense of freedom, and a fully unleashed technique. The result really is infectious, and when he came to the front of the stage to urge the audience to join in with singing and clapping, the entire Town Hall came on board with a ton of enthusiasm.
This in effect was a WOMADelaide event, but indoors. The rapture erupting across the auditorium was incredible, unrivalled by anything one might have ever witnessed in that venue for what was, nominally, a classical concert.
Norms and preconceptions of any kind were all thrown out the window. But the biggest takeaway from this remarkable concert was Selaocoe’s tremendous spirit and generosity.
What a wonderful gift to the world he is.
Abel Selaocoe and the Australian Chamber Orchestra performed at the Adelaide Town Hall on Tuesday April 15