Nestled

Heinz Holliger sits on the edge of his seat, moving his hands knowingly to the atonal wanderings of Frédérique Cambreling’s harp. His face cycles between anticipation, excitement, and a little thrilled relief. Holliger is watching the world premiere of the full version of his Partita No. 2 for Harp, which is stretching both the limits of the instrument’s potential, and the span of Cambreling’s hands. Between movements, he leans forward and whispers excitedly to friends in the next row, and gathers glances of support from others in the room. The audience and music are squared by the bright, art-clad walls of the art museum in the Kultur- und Kongresszentrum Luzern—a building as much a symbol of spatial experimentation as it is a container for musical rule-breaking. The piece is challenging for the audience too, and departs dramatically from built expectation as moments of solace in repetition are dashed by slaps and discordant interruption. There is a certain violence to it, though Holliger might not agree; when the piece stops, he jumps to his feet and is the first to clap with a smile nothing in the moment can shake. The performance is clearly a success.