MUSIC AND SILENCE

A lyrical tribute to a Catalan child who grew up to become one of the 20th century’s most renowned cellists.

By age 5, Pablo (or Pau, to use the Catalan form of his name) Casals was singing in his local choir, and by 14, he was giving solo concert performances on the cello. What Mihaly highlights here, though, are his special relationships to Bach’s Cello Suites and to his native Catalonia in the wake of the Spanish Civil War and the rise of Generalissimo Franco. Leaving Spain in 1939, Casals helped to resettle fellow refugees—but in a public silence that lasted until 1950, he refused to perform in any country that recognized Franco’s regime. Only an invitation to mark the 200th anniversary of Bach’s death enticed him back on stage at last; the author leaves him there, receiving his audience’s rapturous ovation “for his music and for his silence,” but does fill in the rest of his storied career in a substantial afterword. A view of Barcelona (identifiable by the distinctive silhouette of the Sagrada Familia cathedral) being bombed isn’t the only Catalonian setting that seems to burn in Cabassa’s impressionistic, intensely hued illustrations. But she closes with a dove of peace, and images of birds and abstract daubs of bright color swirl throughout to evoke the music pouring from the dramatically posed young musician and the applause pouring back.

Intense and heartfelt.