NEW WAYS OF THINKING

Although British cellist Laura van der Heijden is well versed in live performance and studio recording, she is still discovering new facets of her musical personality, as Toby Deller finds out

Laura van der Heijden rehearsing at Kings Place, London

MONIKA S. JAKUBOWSKA

The popular north London café that Laura van der Heijden has suggested as a location for our interview is looking somewhat rough and ready on the day we meet. Evidence of ongoing building work is scattered behind some plastic sheeting, and the ceiling is allowing some of the rainiest spring weather on record to leak into a container on to the table next to us. Its appearance is quite a contrast to her cello playing, which is warm and sympathetic, clear and true. She describes the late 17th-century Rugeri cello she plays (on loan from a private collection) in similar terms: ‘One of my favourite parts of it is how warm the lower strings are, which, of course, works wonderfully for chamber music – I think it creates a beautiful bed for other instruments to be on top of. But then it works fantastically for concertos as well.’

As it happens, concertos are the focus of the project with which we begin our conversation: a recording for Chandos with the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra and Ryan Wigglesworth. Alongside two substantial pieces of 20th-century English Romantic repertoire – Walton’s Cello Concerto and Bridge’s Oration (Concerto elegiaco) – it features a cello concerto written specifically for her in 2022 by the British composer Cheryl Frances-Hoad (b.1980).

This was a new experience for van der Heijden, one that shed an unexpected light on her musical personality. ‘One of the things I find really interesting about having a piece written for me is that I have all these ideas about who I am as a musician, as a cellist, and I thought that what people might like about my playing would be the lyrical stuff – on my duo CDs, I’ve recorded a lot of songs because I feel like that suits me. But actually, it’s a much more muscular and powerful piece of music than I would have expected. It feels a bit like a mirror is being held up to me: maybe I’m a bit more powerful than I thought. It’s incredibly high; it’s a really intense piece of music, but it does still have those lyrical lines in it.’

She was first introduced to Frances-Hoad’s music some years previously by her teacher Leonid Gorokhov through a short, plaintive piece for solo cello and cello ensemble he had recorded called Invocation. So she had long been an admirer of her acutely poetic music. ‘Cheryl and I spoke a lot about what the piece might end up looking like. I felt it would be nice to have a nature-inspired piece of music; not so much as climate change propaganda, because I sometimes feel that’s not actually that helpful, but more a celebration of the nature that we do have.

She got very inspired by swifts and also by volcanoes. The piece’s subtitle is Earth, Sea, Air, and those are the three movements. There are a few musical things that I love, such as thick brass textures and shimmery strings, and she worked those in as well.’

Although it is van der Heijden’s first concerto release, she is already a veteran of the recording studio. She is a key member of the Kaleidoscope Chamber Collective, with whom she’s made a clutch of recordings; and her personal discography now numbers three duo recitals: her debut of largely Soviet-era music for Champs Hill in 2018 with Petr Limonov entitled 1948, followed by two albums for Chandos with Jâms Coleman – Pohádka (2022) and Path to the Moon (2024). ‘We are a real duo team,’ she says of the more recent partnership, ‘dreaming up all of the ideas together.’

‘CHERYL FRANCES-HOAD’S CONCERTO IS A MUCH MORE MUSCUL AR AND POWERFUL PIECE THAN I WOULD HAVE EXPECTED’

Van der Heijden with duo partner, pianist Jâms Coleman

MATTHEW JOHNSON

The concertos disc is being released on 31 May in time for a performance of the Frances-Hoad at the BBC Proms in July, the world premiere having been given last year in Glasgow. But it has another significance for the cellist, or at least for her audience. The Walton is the piece with which she first came to national attention, winning the BBC Young Musician competition in 2012. She is conscious that people will have been waiting for the recording as a result. It is not, that said, a piece she gets to perform often – one reason why her name is not associated with it as much as it might have been had she recorded it while memories of the competition were fresher. ‘I’ve played it exactly as many times as I’ve been offered to play it. In fact, sometimes I might have suggested it for a concert and they’ve said: “No, we want Elgar,” or whatever. In choosing that piece for the competition – it was my teacher’s suggestion at the time – the idea was not to do something that well known, which also means you don’t become as strongly associated with it. And also, I was 15 and it would have had to have been an even bigger stage, or I’d have had to have made different decisions afterwards, for people to say: “Walton – that’s Laura.”’

Van der Heijden – her mother Swiss, her father Dutch – was born in 1997 and grew up in a village in the East Sussex countryside with a quiet reputation for welcoming alternative ways of living. ‘I was talking to a friend of mine recently who said: “You need to remind people that you’re a gnome!”’ she replies when I ask if the nature of the place has shaped her outlook. ‘You know, the classical music world can be quite strict and inflexible sometimes, and you feel the pressures of that. My parents were both hippies and I had a village youth in a big forest. That’s where I feel happy and myself. So it has definitely rubbed off on me. It’s also quite an unusual village because it has lots of musicians, lots of Dutch people, lots of Germans, so it’s not like a typical English village. But the main thing I loved there was the forest; I walked through the forest every day.’

It was there, in Forest Row, that she began cello lessons. ‘I started off with a family friend – I visited her just recently – who lived in the village: Marina Logie. She basically had her own technique to teach beginners, which was very wholesome but also a really good foundation.

‘THE CL ASSICAL MUSIC WORLD CAN BE QUITE STRICT. MY PARENTS WERE BOTH HIPPIES AND I HAD A VILLAGE YOUTH IN A BIG FOREST. THAT’S WHERE I FEEL HAPPY AND MYSELF’

My teacher after her commented on how well I’d been set up. So often you have to undo some work, whereas I really didn’t have to.’ A couple of years later she joined the Royal College of Music’s junior department in London, which is where she began studying with Gorokhov.

‘He transformed my playing. He’s a teacher who focuses a lot on technique – not for the sake of it, but to give you the tools to say what you want to say. I couldn’t have asked for a better teacher. He also has unbelievable ears: he listens for such detail, and he feels that expression and intensity and colour are so important. His feedback was always about the need for more colour, more interest, more intensity. But he always explained how to do it – I never thought: “But how?” I think that’s such a common thing: people push you to do more and more, but you think: “Actually, I don’t know how to achieve that!” He always explained everything. I don’t believe there’s anyone who knows more about the instrument than he does. He shows that in his playing: he can play anything. And he introduced me to so many different things and also to some amazing musicians.’

On Botany Bay beach, Broadstairs, Kent. (Below) Van der Heijden during her winning performance at the 2012 BBC Young Musician competition

BEACH PHOTO STEPHANE CRAYTON. BBC YOUNG MUSICIAN PHOTO BBC

Much more recently, she has been studying for a master’s degree at the Hochschule für Musik Hanns Eisler in Berlin (she graduates this June), this time with a violinist: Antje Weithaas (left). She is not the first cellist Weithaas has taught (Julian Steckel is another), yet the association dates back to an encounter with Weithaas’s violinist student Tobias Feldmann in 2012 at the Joseph Joachim competition in Hanover. ‘His playing was totally mesmerising in a way that was not showy, not virtuosic, but so honest. I really saw the qualities that I wanted; it felt like there was no wall between what he felt and what came out. It was instantly flowing. That was what introduced me to her as a teacher. I spoke to him about her as well, and he said exactly what I wanted to hear.’

Van der Heijden has enjoyed spending time in Berlin. ‘I just love the city – I feel it really suits me. But a lot of my work is in the UK, so it has been a bit of a split and I’m not there as much as I’d like to be. But it has been amazing learning with Weithaas. She was a wonderful next step from my teacher before. People say: “How can you study with a violinist?” But she talks about technique all the time – string playing is string playing, ultimately. Also, she has played with lots of cellists and she knows what good cello playing looks like. Her main thing with me was to try to break down any barriers between my emotional intention and what comes out. On the cello, or any instrument, I think you can end up worrying about how you can make it sound good and you critique yourself at the same time as playing, and sometimes that can get in the way.’

She adds that playing to a non-cellist has helped reinforce the importance of taking repertoire at face value. ‘She’ll say: “Why are you doing it like that?” Then I think about it and say: “Well, because everyone does – so I don’t know why!” She helps bring me back to what’s written on the page and to think about it afresh and to make the decision myself, rather than do it like that because that’s how it’s always done.’ This is not just an academic matter for van der Heijden, however, but taps into her practical approach to learning a piece. ‘One of my favourite things about rehearsing is trying to figure out how to make things better. I’ve noticed, especially in pieces where maybe the cello part isn’t as involved as others or isn’t as hard, that my brain is constantly thinking: “Actually, could this phrase have been like that?” Or, “What can I say to help make it more interesting?” That’s the problem-solving part of me. I really love that kind of thing and get most frustrated if I can’t find a solution. That’s partly my character but also the teaching I’ve had, which is basically that there is a solution to every problem. Not that there is necessarily a problem, but you can always find ways to improve.’

Somewhat more of an academic matter was her decision to study for an undergraduate degree at the University of Cambridge, where she took music at St John’s College, rather than a specialist performance course elsewhere.

‘ON THE CELLO, OR ANY INSTRUMENT, I THINK YOU CAN END UP WORRYING ABOUT HOW YOU CAN MAKE IT SOUND GOOD. YOU CRITIQUE YOURSELF AT THE SAME TIME AS PLAYING’

TOP PHOTO STEPHANE CRAYTON. WEITHAAS PHOTO KAUPO KIKKAS

With the Kaleidoscope Chamber Collective at Wigmore Hall: (l-r) Elena Urioste, Melissa White, Tom Poster, Rosalind Ventris, Laura van der Heijden and Joseph Conyers

WIGMORE HALL TRUST 2022

‘I HAVEN’T REALLY STOPPED TO THINK ABOUT HOW I WANT THE NEXT 50 YE ARS TO LOOK. WE ARE IN A TIME WHERE PEOPLE END UP DOING MANY DIFFERENT THINGS. IT’S NOT ONE CAREER FOR LIFE’

‘It was quite an intense period,’ she reflects. ‘Lots of things about it were good for me, but I think it was difficult to be in lots of different worlds at the same time. I feel that if I had my time there again, I would just want to be there. I ended up doing most of my concerts in the holidays but probably needed a holiday in the holidays! I felt that I wasn’t either doing uni or performing to the best of my abilities – I was just tired. And a lot of people I’ve spoken to who were there at the same time felt that way as well.

‘But I met lots of wonderful people, and maybe it exposed me to a different way of thinking, too. The main inspiration in that whole time was a new course that had been introduced in my third year called “Decolonising the Ear”. It was postcolonial theory, and I’d never been introduced to any of that before. It really opened my eyes to many things. There was a lot about the musical canon and how that came about. That is another big part of how I programme things today.’

Her involvement with Kaleidoscope, whose concerts and recordings all give absolute centre stage to under-represented chamber music, feeds into her thinking too. More recently she has begun exploring non-classical idioms, playing with musicians from a variety of traditions, such as cimbalom

player Marcel Comendant, jazz double bassist Misha Mullov-Abbado and tabla player Kuljit Bhamra. Her Path to the Moon album (see January’s Session Report) includes – among the lunar song transcriptions and the chiaroscuro of sonatas by Walker, Britten and Debussy – a tribute to Nina Simone in the shape of Everyone’s Gone to the Moon. ‘Her version is so powerful because it is so bizarre, in a way. She captures this other-worldly feeling and we couldn’t replicate that – there was no way we could be Nina Simone! So we made a decision to try to champion her piano playing, because she wanted to be a classical musician and wasn’t able to do that. So it’s a tribute to her but not a representation of her. My ideal would have been just to put her recording of it at the end. But of course, we couldn’t do that, so it’s just an encouragement for people to go and listen to the original version.’

Meanwhile, back on Earth, van der Heijden is about to treat herself to a few months’ sabbatical. ‘This time last year I ended up getting pneumonia and was in hospital for a while. It was during a month when I was supposed to have time off and also learn lots of rep. Then March was one of the busiest times so I had to play extreme catch-up. It was a really stressful time: I think I had two or three Kaleidoscope recordings, the duo recording was in March, and May was the concerto recording. And there were concerts in between.’ The pause will be a chance to take stock as well as replenish herself after a decade of constant progress. ‘I haven’t really stopped to think about how I want the next 50 years to look. I think that now we are in a time when people end up doing many different things with their lives. It’s not one career for life.’

That may not, she reflects, be the typical view of a career in the classical music profession. ‘Sometimes when you start out in this world you feel there’s only one good path. You feel like the aim is to be a concerto soloist, play in as many places as possible, with big names – all that kind of thing. And also now there’s the pressure of social media, and that’s constantly shifting. Trying to distance yourself from what you think you are supposed to want and trying to figure out what you actually want – that’s step one! Step two is actually trying to do what you want. You can’t just say: “This is what I want,” and then magically it happens. I feel that I’ve entered a period in my life where, in a way, I’m actually examining all that. Classic midlife – no, quarter-life – crisis!’