Richard Bratby

A booster shot of sunlight: Unsuk Chin’s new violin concerto reviewed

Plus: I’ve seen subtler Figaros than David McVicar's at the Royal Opera House but it looked and sounded good, and the audience laughed a lot

Leonidas Kavakos is a genuine, old-school virtuoso, lustrous, muscular and glistening with vibrato. Image: Mark Allan Photography 
issue 15 January 2022

Sir Simon Rattle and the London Symphony Orchestra began the year with a world première. Unsuk Chin’s Second Violin Concerto opened with the soloist, Leonidas Kavakos, completely alone in front of a silent orchestra, playing phrases that rocked back and forth until, suddenly, they were striking sparks. As well they might; Kavakos, after all, is the reason that the concerto exists — the violinist whose ‘burningly intense’ (the composer’s words) artistry has prompted Chin to break her self-imposed rule of writing only one concerto for any given instrument. She explained in the programme notes that ‘the solo violin part forms the foundation of the whole score, the soloist triggering all of the orchestra’s actions and impulses.’

Well, composers say a lot of things. The modern composer-written programme note is a curious sub-genre; you’re not doing it right unless you’re talking about ‘motivic proto-cells’ or ‘ritual-like repetitive pulsations’ (and the concerto’s title, Scherben der Stille — ‘Shards of Silence’ — doesn’t really get us much further).

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