I suppose Thursday night’s concert in the Perth Concert Hall saw a box ticked.
I’d heard cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason playing a concerto, and witnessed him and his siblings in a chamber music context.
Until then, I had never heard him in a solo capacity, a me-and-my-cello exclusive, but it was certainly worth waiting for.
Defies belief
The Kanneh-Mason siblings are a set of marvellous musicians and to emerge from that ensemble as (almost) the pick of the bunch, it takes some doing.
His display of cello virtuosity was simply outrageous – and I mean that in the nicest possible sense of the word.
What he cannot do with a cello could be written on the back of a postage stamp and it made even the most season cellist in the audience – and there were plenty – sit back in patent disbelief.
His control of the bow, his ability to flit up and down the fingerboard in lightning fashion and his use of every technical trick in the book made for compulsive viewing, knowing you were in the presence of a cello superstar.
As masterclasses go, this goes to the very top of the pile and instead of wondering what he could do with a cello, you wondered if there as anything he couldn’t do.
You name it, he does it
Harmonics, passionate interpretation, helter-skelter semiquavers, double stopping, a brilliant tone in any register – you name it and it was in his armoury.
To start with a Bach suite – the D minor – was a choice piece of programming. It was something familiar before he took us into the fascinating world of 20th Century solo cello music.
This was brilliant, but there were echoes of the great master throughout the concert, at least to my ears, particularly in the Simcock’s Prayer For The Senses, Cassado’s Suite and the form of Britten’s Suite Number 1.
Whereas the Bach was played with elegance and style, the more dramatic and flamboyant elements of Sheku’s make-up burst forth in evening’s other works, and it was these that had you on the edge of your seat in bewilderment.
Cassado’s Suite was labelled “strenuously virtuoso”, and this was a prefect description of the work and Sheku’s performance.
The same could be said for Brower’s Sonata, composed specially for him, and the Simcock piece which had everything you could wish for.
Never seen the like
Another showcase for this mercurial cellist were five short preludes by Edmund Finnis.
In short, this was almost two-hours of brilliance and bravado, a continual cadenza unmatched by any solo performer I’ve had the pleasure to witness.
I still can’t fathom how he conquered such a mammoth and demanding programme with consummate ease, and I guess I never will.
It’s no small wonder that composers are writing for or dedicating to this marvellous cellist. Who wouldn’t want their name linked to such a talent?
