Simone Kermes: A classical evening that was anything but classical

An evening that sounded different: Sant Bartomeu and a voice full of edges

The bells had just stopped when the door of the small church swung open. A warm breeze carried the scent of orange blossom across the Plaça, footsteps came from the lanes and the distant clatter of the tram — and then music filled the space. It was not a typical classical evening: Simone Kermes took the stage and led the audience on a whimsical ramble through centuries.

Between Baroque and pop: a colourful programme

The concert titled ¡Viva! felt like an invitation to listen without a template. Monteverdi, Vivaldi, Purcell and Handel stood alongside Mendelssohn and Strauss, Rossini met Gershwin, and pop references flashed up in between. The order was less a chronological exhibition than a conversation between styles — lively, surprising and sometimes cheeky.

Particularly distinctive was Kermes’s own piece, which she calls “Dress of Light”. It recalls classical miniatures with playful motifs, but carries them to sunny beaches, raspberry ice cream and freckles: a small, charming estrangement that in the warm acoustics of Sant Bartomeu sounded almost like a summer anecdote.

Storytelling instead of lecturing

Between arias Kermes let stories flow: small anecdotes, surprising confessions, humour. The speaking pauses felt like breaths in which the audience laughed, reflected or simply savoured the voice. There was no pathos, more the stance of an artist who wants to explain why music moves — not to instruct, but to touch.

The fact that she once went through a phase with a punk haircut produced smiles; mentioning teachers like Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau gave pause for thought. This mix of rebellion and craftsmanship shapes her interpretation: unconventional, but never arbitrary.

The duo: a dialogue on equal terms

The pianist Suzanne Bradbury was more than an accompaniment. Her piano playing responded, commented and set accents that gave Kermes’s voice new colours. Sometimes stormy like agitated waves, sometimes shallow like pebbles washed on the beach — the interplay had the ease of a walk by the sea in which both companions take turns leading.

An evening with an afterglow

The church was well filled; many present seemed to experience a live classical evening for the first time after a long break. Tickets via ticketib.com, admission 30 euros, reduced 15 euros — but in the end only the moments that lingered in the ear mattered: laughter, quiet tears, memories flickering like street lamps on the Plaça.

What remained was less a list of arias than the feeling that someone here crosses boundaries not out of fear but out of curiosity. Kermes does not seek the purity of a style; she collects timbres and stories — and serves them with a good dose of wit.

Why this matters for Mallorca

Evenings like this do the island good: they bring culture to places that are more than postcard motifs and remind us that music creates community. In the cool evening air after the concert voices mixed on the Plaça, and the discussions were not only about technical brilliance but about experiences — exactly what keeps a local cultural life alive.

I admit: not a born classical fan, but on that Sunday in Sóller something caught me. The church let us out into the night, and on the way home a tone still lingered — not perfect, not stiff, but real. This is how a small, successful cultural event feels: local, surprising and a little like Mallorca to be rediscovered.