A Dvořák Fest

“There is something very grounded about the cello,” says the French virtuoso cellist Gautier Capuçon, “in the truest sense of the word, because it stands with its spike on the floor.“ Nor does the master cellist ever lose this down-to-earth quality. “Moreover, it comes closest to the human body – you really embrace it.” This is also what you hear when Gautier Capuçon plays; how he embraces his cello, so to speak, and with it the music he creates. This embrace is particularly intimate in Dvořák’s work, probably the most magnificent romantic cello concerto. “Very intense music and very symphonically composed,” says Capuçon, “You need to have a long breath and a broad view.” He possesses both, and a lavishly beautiful, wondrously singing cello tone besides. Capuçon combines his subtle feeling for burgeoning melody with stupendous virtuosity. When he plays, you can hear that Dvořák composed his cello concerto in faraway New York, but with longing for his Bohemian homeland in his heart. These are sounds of the heart indeed, and on another level, too. With his cello concerto, Dvořák wrote a musical memorial to his deceased childhood sweetheart.