A cellist turns empty pools into intimate concert rooms
On a warm Sydney evening, a stair descends into a disused municipal pool. A cello waits where the shallow end began while thirty listeners sit on tiled ledges. There is no velvet curtain or distant podium, only the scrape of a bow, the hollow resonance of concrete and the quiet of a crowd used to swimming laps.
The premise is how a young cellist is performing in disused swimming pools for intimate audiences. This Australian project treats obsolete civic architecture as a sequence of concert rooms, placing a traditional string instrument where communal water has vanished but the acoustics remain.
Every basin has its own voice. A long lap pool holds a broad tail of sound; a compact learners’ pool may snap it quickly. The cellist visits each site, studies the tiles and adjusts tempo, volume and repertoire before an audience arrives.
The result avoids the formality of a conventional recital and the spectacle of a warehouse club. It is chamber music at human scale, shaped by architecture, local memory and a musician finding new ways to meet listeners.
The pool becomes a resonant instrument
A disused pool is a radical concert venue. Chlorine-blue lines, depth markings and drainage channels become a visual score, while the sloping floor determines where the musician can move. Instead of hiding the building’s past, the performance magnifies it.
That history is audible. A cello’s open C string can disappear into a hard tiled corner; a soft harmonic can seem to travel along the pool’s length. Silence becomes active material, with the audience’s breath and a shifting plastic chair revealing how little space separates performer from listener.
A young musician with a singular stage
The cellist is still in their twenties, trained in conservatory-style discipline but equally drawn to contemporary composition and improvisation. The programmes move between commissioned miniatures, arrangements of familiar songs and long-form pieces that exploit the building’s acoustics.
Performances are site-specific rather than touring in a fixed case. The instrument may move to the deepest end, a bridge may be placed across a dry basin, and the final phrase may be directed towards a particular row. The architecture does not decorate the recital; it co-writes it.
Intimacy changes how the music is heard
Closeness changes the act of listening. A slight bow pressure, the scrape of rosin and the cellist’s breathing are plainly visible from the first row. At a standard concert those details vanish inside a larger acoustic, but here they give the music tactile edges.
Capacity is equally important. Between 25 and 60 guests allows the performer to make eye contact without turning the event into spectacle. It also creates practical constraints: narrow stairs, wet floors and uneven levels demand clear access information, careful seating and a brief safety briefing before the first note.
Australian pools, culture and practical realities
Sydney’s heritage-listed Waverley Pool, closed to public swimming since 1988, offers a striking reference point. Its tiled geometry shows how a municipal bathing place can remain culturally potent after routine use ends.
Melbourne’s appetite for repurposed warehouses and laneway venues makes the concept familiar, though a flooded void demands stricter safety planning. Summer also shapes the audience: swimming is an everyday Australian habit, and pools are cool social meeting places from Christmas to February.
Regulation follows location. A NSW event may need council approval, insurance and a risk assessment under the Work Health and Safety Act 2011; heritage work may require consent under the Heritage Act 1977. Alcohol may require a licence or temporary event notice under the Liquor Act 2007, while Melbourne events operate under Victoria’s Liquor Licensing Act 1997. Independent promoters and direct ticket sales remain crucial for Australian shows too small for arena routing.
The concert experience side by side
The contrasts are immediate:
| Element | Traditional recital | Pool performance |
|---|---|---|
| Capacity | 500–2,000 | 25–60 |
| Sound | Engineered and controlled | Tiles, depth and concrete create variable reflections |
| Performer position | Elevated and fixed | Mobile within a sloping basin |
| Audience contact | Formal and often distant | Eye-level and physically close |
| Repertoire | Complete works and established programmes | Commissions, arrangements and site-specific gestures |
| Arrival ritual | Foyer, seating and bar | Stairs, access briefing and restricted floor space |
Neither format is inherently superior. A recital hall offers engineered clarity and a familiar social ritual; the pool supplies roughness, risk and discovery. The comparison explains why the project succeeds through careful curation rather than simply moving a concert into an unusual room.
Practical ways to enjoy the pool performances
Pool performances should reward curiosity without sacrificing comfort. Visitors can expect short introductions, timed arrivals and seating with clear sightlines. The unusual setting asks for attention, but never avoidable discomfort.
A considered visit makes the music easier to hear. For audiences attending in Australia, these practical choices are especially useful:
- Book through the project’s independent promoter or host venue to support small-scale cultural businesses.
- Check access notes, step-free routes and seating arrangements before travelling.
- Arrive early enough for the safety briefing and to settle without disturbing performers.
- Keep phones silent and reserve the first moments for listening to the pool’s own acoustic.
Step into the water’s echo
The series turns forgotten infrastructure into a cultural room. Its scale is deliberately small, yet its ambitions are broad: closer music, unexpected spaces and audiences discovering chamber music through surrounding architecture.
It also asks how classical music can remain dignified while feeling new. By using buildings already embedded in public life, the cellist creates encounters that are intimate and rooted in place.
Reserve a place at the next pool performance, arrive with time to explore the venue and listen closely. Support the artist and independent promoters by buying directly, then experience the rare pleasure of hearing a cello occupy a space once filled with swimmers, sunlight and summer noise.