Cellist Shauna Rolston stirred things up with her look – and her playing
 

By Jessica Werb for Georgia Straight

A Vancouver Symphony Orchestra Presentation At the Orpheum on Saturday, November 18

If violinist Anne-Sophie Mutter is classical strings' diva, then Shauna Rolston is its antidiva. Not for this Emmonton-born cellist floor-length shimmering body-hugging gowns, and heels, and up-dos. (And with her looks - a Madonna-esque physique, chiselled cheekbones, and sultry smile - the 30-something musician could easily pull it off.)

When the former prodigy joined the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra on-stage Saturday night to premiere Canadian composer Gary Kulesha’s Concerto for Cello and Orchestra, written for her and commissioned by the CBC, she looked like the bad girl your parents warned you about in high school. First, there was that cello: a jet-black, sinister-looking, guitar-shaped carbon-fibre instrument that could have come out of a David Lynch flick: dark, weird, and a touch disconcerting. Then there was Rolston’s getup: dark hair hanging freely past her waist; black pants with a white, gothic-style pattern inching up her thighs; and a grey tank top that showed off her pipes. Yikes.
 

That she appeared in the spotlight after listeners had been lulled with a particularly slow and indulgent interpretation of Claude Debussy’s dreamy “Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune” made her nonconformist style all the more potent. She was here, evidently, to stir things up a little—maybe even rough us up, if we weren’t careful—with a work that, Kulesha explained in a pretaped interview shown on the in-house video screens, had found its initial inspiration in Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness.
Composed in four movements, slow-fast-slow-fast, the concerto certainly did exude an unctuous, murky darkness. Filled with ugly double-stopped glissandi and angry, roaring cello lines that explored the lowest ranges of the instrument, this piece had no room for humour and, if one were feeling uncharitable, could be described as taking itself a little too seriously. From its “tribal” first movement (as Kulesha called it in the program notes), with its banging tom-toms, to its John Taverner–esque, dolorous third and its maniacal fourth, there was no letup in the sombre mood.
 

And Rolston, through her muscular playing, gave as serious and angry a performance as Kulesha presumably intended. As for the futuristic cello, its tone might be described as foreboding, lacking warmth or heart. Which, if you’re Rolston, may be exactly the source of its appeal. Pop has Peaches; classical has Rolston.