Review: NOISENIGHT40: ABEL SELAOCOE & THE BANTU ENSEMBLE, Boiler Shop

My friend and I both said the same thing at the same time as we left the Boilershop after seeing South African Cellist, Abel Selaocoe. This was 'that might have been the best gig I’ve ever been to'. That might not be a very journalism-y thing to say (well, neither is “journalism-y”,) but it sums things up succinctly.

The evening was part of Through the Noise’s "noisenights" series, live events platforming international classical musicians in local venues around the country. Each concert is crowdfunded, and framed as Classical Club Nights, yet Selaocoe’s set seemed to follow your usual gig setup. Well... aside from the upcoming, frequent moments where we transcended the mortal realm from how glorious it all was. 

(There was, however, a smattering of satisfying swaying to a truly cracking playlist over the PA, pre-concert.)

Abel Selaocoe was born near Johannesburg before moving to the UK to train at the Royal Northern College of Music in Manchester. His style fuses multiple genres seamlessly, and some of these are classical music, African hymns, and improvisation. But pinning down a list won't cut the mustard for capturing the sounds he curates. His debut album Where is Home, released last year, is an apt and astounding introduction to the artist if you’re unfamiliar. A multifaceted wander through genres, places, and moods.

The night opened with "Qhawe", which means “hero” in Zulu, and the cellist absolutely plummeted us into his realm. It was a fast descent into cello melodies played so high the instrument could be moonlighting as a fiddle. The lyrics were sung so short and clipped, before sliding into a deeper-than-deep, bassy undercurrent, prolonged and gravelly. Next, "Ibuyile I‘Africa" ("Africa is Back", in the isiZulu language), a traditional hymn that was sung in apartheid times. The song is an experience of feeling rather than an exercise in simply listening. It opened with a long, soft, instrumental, followed by an easy ascent into Abel’s cello, which met twinkly piano moments by Fred Thomas. This whole, gorgeous situation melts into Selaocoe's vocals, a slow hymn with soft pauses before the instruments joined in with him again in joyful waves.

"Hlokomela" is SO FUN, a last hurrah before a slower pace. We're invited into the sounds with audience participation. There’s boogying, vocals (from an impressively tuneful audience), and clapping. After this, the set moved into ambient, greatly instrumental numbers. I actually zoned out, but in a quite profound way that should be taken as a compliment.

When the atmosphere lifted again, it was with “Ka Bohalend” that looked pretty intense to play. It’s so complex with many stopping points. Bassist Shunya hung on Selaocoe’s every movement and musical decision, leaning forward, actually looking a bit ready to pounce. The cellist is like a conductor, only he just does his thing and the band intuitively rides the waves with him.

Dudu Kouate on percussion was a delightful part of the ensemble. Using – and this is the best descriptor – everyday stuff and beautiful stuff. Elegant water bowls, ethereal whistles, and a bunch of TUBES work together, painting a musical pastoral of a plain not near the cement flats of the Boiler Shop.

There’s something about Abel & co that must be experienced… or felt and lived with others. It’s the gold dust of live music gigs. I’m still tingling.

Noisenights are being held across Newcastle throughout November.

Main photo credit: Diva Garg 

Event photo credit: Bryony Taylor

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