Review by Northings
Alasdair Fraser and Nathalie Haas
19 Aug 2004 in Highland, Music
Eden Court Theatre, Inverness, Tuesday 17 August 2004
HOT-ISH ON THE HEELS of the recent tour by Bruce MacGregor and Jonny Hardie with cellist Christine Hanson comes this outing from California-based Scottish fiddle maestro Alasdair Fraser and American cellist Nathalie Haas.
Nathalie Haas
Fraser took time to explain that the cello predates late-comers like accordion and guitar as an accompanying instrument in Scottish dance music, and that Nathalie Haas was dedicated to once again unshackling it from its orchestral confinement and placing it back at the rhythmic heart of the music. Ms Haas looked a little bemused at this dramatic pronouncement, but her playing did precisely as Alasdair promised.
The fiddler kicked off alone on a fiery set of tunes from Shetland before the cellist joined him on stage. He described what they were about to do as “a journey across the Scottish musical landscape from a fiddler’s point of view”, and they went on to serve up tunes – both familiar and unusual – from all points of the (Scottish) compass, including the odd digression across the ocean to Cape Breton.
Fraser was in typically virtuoso form, attacking the uptempo tunes with the kind of drive and expressive power we have come to expect from him, while Haas dug deeply into biting rhythmic accompaniments, and shone in more lyrical fashion when her melodic moments came around.
Their tune sets offered plenty of variety in style as well as geographical spread, from ‘The Lads of Duns’ in the Borders to further excursions into Shetland repertoire. His version of William Marshall’s ‘Chapel Keithack’ came with the addition of ‘Belmont’ (a tune well-know as the hymn ‘By Cool Shiloam’s Shady Rill’) skilfully grafted on.
They alternated between sets of five and six tunes and shorter couplings, including a sizzling combination of ‘St Kilda Wedding’ and ‘Brose and Butter’, interspersed with lovely slow airs. The fiddler likes to talk a bit – okay, a lot – to his audience, and has an annoying habit of occasionally breaking off tunes to do so.
He also likes to involve us in the action. Tonight’s duties included making a vocal drone in imitation of the pipes on ‘Lochaber No More’ and dancing on the spot in the encore, in which they were joined by Caithness fiddler Karen Steven. The most effective of these moments, though, was also the most unlikely, when he had the audience singing gently on ‘The Skye Boat Song’ as he played an extemporised melodic accompaniment. It should have been naff, but came across as strangely beautiful and – as he said himself – quite moving..
© George MacKay, 2004
