Laura Van Der Heijden & Jâms Coleman

Holy Trinity Church, Haddington 8/9/25

Laura Van Der Heijden (cello),  Jâms Coleman (piano)

The forenoon concert of 8th September in this year’s Lammermuir Festival was at Haddington’s  Holy Trinity Church and presented this year’s artist-in-residence, English cellist Laura Van Der Heijden, with the talented Welsh pianist Jâms Coleman in a programme which included the Debussy and Britten cello sonatas, together with a collection of arrangements of night-themed songs, as appetisers for the major works.

Laura introduced the programme and the first two songs.  Lili Boulanger’s ‘Reflets’, a Maeterlinck setting, is a macabre mélodie evoking an unsettling moonlit scene with still, dark water.  Exquisite tone sustained a realistic vocal imitation with expressive vibrato and the illusion of messa di voce.  Eerily magical.  Fauré’s ‘Clair de lune’ (misspelt on the programme) is a Verlaine setting, with a long piano introduction and a more con moto (not particularly nocturnal) melody and rather more charm.  Very lovely (but not a patch on Debussy for atmosphere).

Jâms introduced the Debussy Sonata, telling us of a composer resentful of the “impressionist” label and seeking to establish credentials as a “serious composer” in the classical tradition, even as he was battling terminal cancer.  The 3-movement piece is wonderfully concise and jammed full of nervous energy and a wealth of musical ideas and novel ways of expressing them.  In the ‘Prologue’, a declamatory piano is answered by the cello and the two explore a range of moods together, with a life-affirming sense of wonder.  The cello’s lyricism was the focus, as Laura carried us through plaintive longing, rhapsodic wonder, an energetic dramatic chase, a joyous declaration and a tranquil reverie, Jâms’ supportive pianism all the while heightening the immediacy of the characterful expression, before a more contented reprise of the plaintive theme subsided to an afterglow high harmonic on the cello.  Delicious.  The curiously-named ‘Sérénade’ is full of nervous furtive pizzicato tiptoeing, anxious suspenseful cowering in concealment, before breaking cover again: it was as intriguing as it was thrilling.  It segues directly into the finale, exultantly scampering freely, occasionally pausing in wonder at something or someone suggestively Moorish, exotic and “full of Eastern promise”.  Poignantly joyful and life-affirming, when one considers the precarity of the composer’s health.  Super piece; super performance.

More genial informative introductions from Jâms to 4 more song arrangements ensued.  First up, the third of Britten’s ‘Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo’ (Sonetto XXX) is just one of a set of ardent love poems addressed by Michelangelo to a young artist and by Britten in 1940 to and for Peter Pears.  Slowly moving tender chords in 3 underlie a rhapsodic tenor melody on the cello in triplets, responded to in kind by the piano.  Breathtakingly beautiful.  Florence Price’s 1946 song ‘Night’ was surprisingly Schumannesque, very German Romantic with nothing to hint at American origins (unlike her symphonies), but charming nonetheless.  Equally surprising was Toru Takemitsu’s ‘Will tomorrow, I wonder, be cloudy or clear?’, as it was a lighthearted popsong with a ragtime vibe and a melody akin to that of ‘You’ve got a friend in me’ as it appears in the film ‘Toy Story’.  Delightful.  The set concluded with Korngold’s ‘Schönste Nacht’ from his 1947 operetta ‘Die stumme Serenade’, a schmaltzy waltz, delivered with tone that had me imagining Marlene Dietrich singing it.  Stylish.

Britten’s Cello Sonata was written in 1961 specifically for (and at the ardent insistence of) the great Russian cellist Mstislav Rostropovich, following their meeting at the UK premiere of Shostakovich’s First Cello Concerto.  The music is something of a portrait of the charismatic, warm-hearted, enthusiastic, irrepressibly creative cellist himself, as well as a tour-de-force exploiting his technical mastery and expressive creativity.  In form, it is a 5-movement suite.  In the ‘Dialogo’, the cello is mercurial and excitable, moving in fits and starts, whilst the piano is a calming, focussing influence (no prizes for guessing who’s who in that portraiture).  Eventually the piano’s serenity draws the cello into an idyllic duet, concluding in light whimsical harmonics.  The Scherzo is fabulously Bartókian in its percussiveness, with eruptive pizzicato in the cello and angry staccato in the piano as they snipe at each other  There is a calm central interlude, before they’re at it hammer-and-tongs again.  The piano has the last quiet word, though (that is SO Britten!).  The ‘Elegia’ was bleak but candid, with hints of Fauré.  A slow tread on the piano underlies a grief-stricken plaint on the cello with moments of “raging against the dying of the light”.  An earlier melody appears in a sweet consolatory guise to assuage the pain and calm the troubled soul.  The ‘Marcia’ is driven, even swaggering, but joyless, like something out of the War Requiem and with a touch of the operatic Britten, grim and grotesque.  In the ‘Moto Perpetuo’, the cello sets off like a rocket, with the piano in hot pursuit.  A calmer rippling piano interlude provided a brief respite, before they’re off again.  Absolutely phenomenal playing throughout as they took possession of this amazing music (or were possessed by it: it’s hard to say).  It was possible to imagine oneself in the presence of Britten and Rostropovich themselves. 

The encore was another song arrangement, Bebussy’s ‘Beau soir’, whose lyrics describe a beautiful sunset and advise enjoying it while you still can.  Works for me.  For this, we have music festivals.

I must add an additional word of adulative praise, not for a musician, but for an instrument.  The piano used in the Holy Trinity concerts that required one was a Bösendorfer and it is an absolute beauty.  That is all.