Abel Selaocoe should consider adding “force of nature” to his list of creative credits. The charismatic South African cellist, singer, composer, and improviser surely deserves the accolade for the blistering performance of his physically demanding, spiritually supercharged Cello Concerto, Four Spirits, brought to life at London’s Queen Elizabeth Hall. He was backed to the hilt by Aurora Orchestra, whose members played and sang for all they were worth, and by the inspired interventions of Austrian percussionist Bernhard Schimpelsberger. Their effervescent artistry, recorded live, spilled from the stage into an audience prepared to double as chorus in the work’s finale and to experience making music the Selaocoe way: uninhibited, embodied, heartfelt. “Four Spirits is a combination of the things I’ve been learning, from my culture and my other influences,” Abel Selaocoe tells Apple Music Classical. Those influences, from songs of South Africa’s Apostolic Church to music by Baroque composers, shaped the cellist’s debut album, Where is Home, and its successor, Hymns of Bantu. His Cello Concerto includes all this and more. The work has evolved since its premiere in 2022, gaining a dazzling orchestration by Benjamin Woodgates and extended improvisations that draw from the deep well of Selaocoe’s cultural references. “I celebrate some pillars of African ideals in Four Spirits, the way we hold community, but also the way of being able to navigate very modern spaces using ancestral wisdom.” The concerto, he adds, is fluid in form. “There are no stops between movements; it just goes on and on and on into different worlds. I wanted to challenge the audience to stay with it and believe in it, even when they wondered where the improvisation was going. You can’t imagine what the next sound will be but just be present with it and allow its influence to affect you.” Unpredictability is deeply embedded in Four Spirits. The work’s first movement, “MaSebego,” evokes the eternal world of traditional healing and the wisdom required to practice it. “At home [in Sebokeng, South Africa], we had a traditional healer called MaSebego,” Selaocoe recalls. “She could tell you how to use African ideals in a modern world. It made sense that some of these things, like the way we could navigate conflict, weren’t relegated to the past but were part of a living tradition.” The second movement, “Bana,” celebrates the curiosity of children and their exploration of the world around them. “It’s quite bizarre and full of improvisation in the beginning. I think maybe that’s also an expression of how people try to find their voice by improvising and being playful.” Four Spirits makes extraordinary demands on its soloist, not least in terms of extended playing and vocal techniques. The latter include throat singing, which creates the impression of one voice generating its own harmonies, and the production of preternaturally high and low sounds. “The voice gives an immediate connection to imagination,” observes Selaocoe. “If you imagine a sound, it can simply come out. Whereas if you imagine something on the cello, you have to navigate where your fingers need to go, which can be very difficult in the moment. The more I did that in Four Spirits, the more I enjoyed it.” Faith and its close relatives, hope and trust, find expression in “Tshepo.” The movement opens with a dialogue for cello and percussion, followed by a scintillating vocal duet between Selaocoe and Schimpelsberger. “I wanted to base ‘Tshepo’ on one rhythm and channel the power of repetition and prayer. Some of that influence comes from what we call in South Africa, the Postola Church.” An ecstatic seven-beat groove, taken up by the full band, captures the ecstatic spirit of Postola worship. “The orchestra plays a very dark part,” says Selaocoe. “It develops and gets bigger and bigger, until it collapses on itself.” Reduced to eery fragments of chant, “Tshepo” segues into the reassuring optimism of “Simunye” or “We Are One.” The finale’s first part, “Uthando” or “love,” flows seamlessly into “Malibongwe,” an old South African song of praise. “It’s about being one with your community and understanding that singing is a confirmation that you’re part of a people. So, that expresses the sense of belonging to our communities that we all deserve, like a human right. And we end up singing together in this movement, performers and audience. It’s very special. I decided to put ‘Malibongwe’ into the fabric of the concerto. For us, it means let’s be thankful. It could refer to many things: let’s be thankful to the world, let’s be thankful to all of those around us.” Abel Selaocoe gives thanks to the community he built with Aurora Orchestra, its conductor Nicholas Collon, and Bernhard Schimpelsberger. “I guess when it comes to the classical musicians I work with, the utmost important thing concerns their curiosity and attitude towards a different culture,” he notes. “Their open-mindedness in this performance made me so happy. It’s rare. I think more of it would be so welcome.”