Sat. Apr 4th, 2026

When Cello Meets Piano: The Battle in Reeves

Carlos Audi, on cello. | Robert Pollock / The Minaret
Carlos Audi, on cello. | Robert Pollock / The Minaret

A midnight black grand piano sits center stage in Reeves Theatre, not a podium, nor a movie screen, but a piano with a mirrored underbelly, revealing a myriad of keys and strings.

It signifies the moment on Saturday night at 7:30 p.m. when high culture said “hello” as the University of Tampa’s Department of Music presented another installment of the Minaret Concert Series.

The manila program boasted the backgrounds of the two great musicians I was about to see.

First, the Brazilian native and cellist extraordinaire Carlos Audi, who holds a Bachelor of Music degree from the University of South Carolina, and has performed with many prestigious orchestras.

Currently, he is on the faculty of Hillsborough Community College, Clearwater Christian College and Hillsborough County Public Schools.

Second, was Brazilian pianist Hamilton Tescarollo, whose many distinctions include performances worldwide, receiving “Teacher of the Year” award at the 2001 Schimmel-AZ Piano Young Artist Competition and recording the album La Revoltosa in 2009.

The evening began with a moment of silence as a tribute to the victims and survivors of Sept. 11.

Immediately, the audience felt united and maintained an unspoken connection throughout the evening.

After tuning their instruments Audi and Tescarollo launched into their opener, titled Capricho, Op. 49 by Heitor Villa-Lobos. I found that the word “capricho” loosely translates as “whimsical,” but this description seems to be untrue to the piece.

I would have called it “nostalgia” or “longing,” for the sounds gave the impression of an old man and woman looking back on their youth.

Frederic Chopin’s Sonata for Cello and Piano in G Minor, Op. 65 followed.

The sonata was performed in four movements, or parts.

The piano and cello’s relationship during this tune was vivid enough to bring a sequence of scenes before my eyes.

Part I was discordant, much like two pieces of a puzzle refusing to fit together.

Crescendos and harmonies spiraled into a dizzying battle between piano and cello.

It was as if the instruments were two roommates in a tussle.

The piano was clearly upset about something the cello had done; perhaps leaving it’s extra strings and resin lying around the room.

The cello, being a pacifist, did not want to fight and instead tried to mollify the situation with its mellow reassurances.

The fight continues until finally the cello grows a backbone and screeches hauntingly.

The heated argument descends into a lullaby, and ascends right back up into a galloping allegro.

In the end, the piano and cello agree to disagree and so the sonata concludes.

After a brief intermission, Audi and Tescarollo returned with the Suite Populaire Espagnole by Manuel de Falla.

Audi explains that de Falla was influenced by Parisian impressionism, as well as the folk music of southern Spain which he incorporated into the suite that had been adapted from piano and voice to piano and cello.

The suite begins with El Pano Moruno in which the cello sings con un voz fantastico.

Part II is titled Nana which translates into “lullaby.”

The piece was soft and certainly bedtime worthy, but more closely resembled a grayish oatmeal mush for the ear.

I would have liked some honey, or cinnamon sugar or at the very least a few raisins to be thrown into the composition to spice things up.

Part III titled Polo arrived with a bucket of cold water to wake me up.

The high energy pulsating from the piano keys sounded like a breaking news segment and screamed of importance.

If Polo was a temper tantrum, then Part V, Asturiana, was the apology to my eardrums.

Finally the Suite ended with Jota, a fun, click-your-heels-you’re-so-happy, little ditty that picked at the cello strings and coerced them into sounding like an electric guitar.

Audi and Tescarollo’s final hurrah came in the form of Estados D’Alma by Edmundo Villani-Cortes.

They only performed the final two movements from Estados which were titled Terno and Audacioso.

Terno featured a cello solo. As the piano joined in, the music became sleepy.

The second movement ended up being my favorite of the night. Audacioso is Portuguese for “audacious.”

The piece used music that is true to the traditional baião dance of northern Brazil.

I found myself involuntarily smiling by the end of the performance.

As Audi and Tescarollo played the final note, a member of the audience chuckled at the musicians’ audacious smirks.

They took their final bows to the soundtrack of a standing ovation.

The night was equal to one spent at Tampa’s Performing Arts Center with the convenience of having to go no further than Reeves Theatre.

This free event gave UT students a taste of sophistication fit for a Saturday night out on the town.

When piano and cello meet, an interesting relationship most certainly takes shape.

If you missed this concert, don’t despair! UT’s Department of Music will present another free event, “Celebrating the Soul of Spanish Music” on Sept. 24 at 7:30 p.m. in the Grand Salon.

You can find more concert opportunities by checking the events calendar at http://www.ut.edu.

Amanda Sieradzki can be reached at asieradzki@spartans.ut.edu.

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One thought on “When Cello Meets Piano: The Battle in Reeves”
  1. Reeves Theater is a lovely setting for piano and cello, and this was truly an amazing concert. Thank you, Amanda, for writing such an animated review! I relived the music as I read your words.

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