This story was written by Megan Westberg for the May-June 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by the author. It is an impassioned voice. A raised female voice. “Human life, for us, is sacred,” she says. Music swells beneath her. Bittersweet. Soaring. Rushing in and then retreating. She goes on. “For as we say, if any life is to be sacrificed, it shall be ours.” Orchestral crescendos punctuate her phrases, diminishing on a dime as her voice turns to soprano gravel from shouting. “They’l...
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This story was written by Megan Westberg for the May-June 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by the author. It is an impassioned voice. A raised female voice. “Human life, for us, is sacred,” she says. Music swells beneath her. Bittersweet. Soaring. Rushing in and then retreating. She goes on. “For as we say, if any life is to be sacrificed, it shall be ours.” Orchestral crescendos punctuate her phrases, diminishing on a dime as her voice turns to soprano gravel from shouting. “They’l...
Multidimensional Imagination: Cellist Abel Selaocoe Continues to Redefine His Approach to the Instrument
Strings Stories
13 minutes
7 months ago
Multidimensional Imagination: Cellist Abel Selaocoe Continues to Redefine His Approach to the Instrument
This article was written by Thomas May for the March-April 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by editor Megan Westberg. “Music is embedded in everything we do in South African life,” says Selaocoe. “Not even only as an artist, but as a member of the public, being able to express yourself musically through the voice or dance has been such an integral part of my growing up.” Support the show
Strings Stories
This story was written by Megan Westberg for the May-June 2025 issue of Strings magazine and is read by the author. It is an impassioned voice. A raised female voice. “Human life, for us, is sacred,” she says. Music swells beneath her. Bittersweet. Soaring. Rushing in and then retreating. She goes on. “For as we say, if any life is to be sacrificed, it shall be ours.” Orchestral crescendos punctuate her phrases, diminishing on a dime as her voice turns to soprano gravel from shouting. “They’l...
