Opportunities to hear Pekka Kuusisto at close range are rare. In the comparatively small auditorium of Kings Place, the qualities that make him such a compelling presence — candour, quick intelligence, and an eagerness to connect — made this a must-attend.
It would be easy to greet this project with suspicion. Music shaped in the shadow of prolonged loss, later fused artistically and framed within a cool Nordic aesthetic. Kuusisto gazes out from the album cover — piercing blue eyes behind round dark frames — the grainy image overlaid with a distinctly 70s typeface. At the ‘reveal’, industry commentators are visibly present, keen to demonstrate cross-cultural fluency. The label benefits, as do the venue, the platforms and the supporting brands. Should the album land, even the fledgling classical chart might feel the lift.
Yet whatever cynicism gathers at the edges begins to unravel once the musicianship is heard at close range. The inclusion of Vaughan Williams’s The Lark Ascending, here in Martin Gerigk’s string quartet arrangement, is both musically and strategically astute. Heard without its usual orchestral halo, the work sheds its usual pastoral glow and becomes something leaner and more intimate. For those who know the piece well, the arrangement offers a fresh contour to familiar lines; for the casually curious, it provides an immediate point of entry. Its presence on the album feels canny — a recognisable anchor within a more eclectic programme — yet in performance it earns its place fully.
Kuusisto’s charisma on stage is magnetic; his expression urgent, raw and comforting. The Vaughan Williams is electrifying, Ellen Reid’s Desiderium has a great deal of bite and rewards with a more rewarding narrative than Caroline Shaw’s Plan & Elevation before it. Amidon steadies the emotional current with a tender, quilted texture in the upper register. One is left wondering why this kind of event feels as fresh as it does.
In some respects, it scarcely matters whether we are writing about the concert format, the performance, the album or the eclectic mix. The product has integrity; the aesthetic is sophisticated; the release feels coherent. If this is another instance of the record industry driving change within the genre, it comes with consequences. A label-driven concert subtly alters the live experience. The presence of cameras — capturing performance as content — is not unusual in itself. What shifts is their function. Capture underpinned much of Kuusisto’s dry and engaging commentary from the stage, including his playful instruction for a loud “mono clap” to test the adapted acoustic for Amidon’s set. The performances still sparkled, and the album remains a destination. Yet when the act of capture moves closer to the centre rather than remaining in its incidental role, listening changes. The concert is no longer only an encounter; it is also a production.
