Hymns of Bantu

Anything Abel Selaocoe touches is bound to be extraordinary. Having followed his career from its early days, it’s been a joy to witness his rise as one of the most exciting figures in contemporary classical and global music. But Hymns of Bantu, his second album, feels particularly special. Collaborating with the Manchester Collective, Selaocoe’s unmistakable cello and voice are woven into larger string arrangements, creating a rich, cinematic soundscape that celebrates his South African heritage while connecting it to the Western classical canon in exciting ways. The album opens dreamily with the lullaby-like ‘Tsohle Tsohle’ (Everything Everything) in which Selaocoe sings a traditional South African hymn. Of course, Selaocoe’s cello playing is worth note, but it’s his voice that absolutely captures the attention; in places it is indescribably sweet, as on the opener, while elsewhere it thrillingly rumbles with abandon as on the wild ‘Dinaka’. The ‘Sarabande’ from Bach’s Cello Suite No 6 packs new emotional punch as a chamber piece while the contrasting rhythmic energy of ‘Takamba’ picks up the pace. There is so much variety here in the hour of music to keep listeners engaged from the first note to the last. That Selaocoe manages to also make it all sound cohesive is a testament to his artistic vision. I honestly can’t think of another performer with the same breathtaking range of expression, one who can traverse genres, traditions and emotions with such boundless creativity and ease.