Following the rise of instrumental virtuosos can feel a lot like studying racing form. Early promise, pedagogical pedigree, significant competition wins, even sponsorship deals – all play their part in raising the stakes on an international career. As does the circuit of must-play concertos of which Tchaikovsky’s is, to continue the racing analogy, not so much steeplechase as the terrifying head-first assault down a frozen track, an event known as the skeleton. If you’re wondering how dangerous it really is, the clue is in the name.
Written during the composer’s midlife Hotel du Lac moment, what the concerto lacks in introspection it makes up for in virtuosic declamation. Of what, exactly, it’s as difficult to say now as it must have been for Tchaikovsky then, sunk into depression after his doomed marriage, though its celeritous energy strongly suggests a flight towards freedom. A piece that exhilarates more than it moves, the gamble for any soloist as they leave the whistle-able insouciance of the opening bars – and the piquancy for the audience – is: will they make it and survive?
It’s no surprise that Bomsori Kim, the South Korean violinist who debuted at the BBC Proms last year, signed with Deutsche Gramaphon and won this year’s BBC Music Concerto Award, should dazzle technically. The sheer vigour of her articulation was a wonder to behold, the creamy tone of her highest register and the extraordinary boom of the lower a phenomenon of sound projection. Just as well, as sometimes the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra didn’t quite clear the way for her to begin a phrase on her own terms.
Muscular dispatch of the chunky double-stops in the Allegro moderato’s energetic string-crossing was complemented with a disarmingly curious quality in the more reflective passages of the Canzonetta. The plaintive folksongs that must have called to a homesick Tchaikovsky across the glassy Lake Geneva, gave voice to the sultry, full-throated tone of Bomsori Kim’s 1725 Guarneri del Gesu, giving a hint of what was on offer once the obligatory flash and dash of this international tour (and the finale to Ysaye’s Sonata no. 4 as an encore) was over with. That said, it was impossible not to get caught up in the drama of the finale and enjoy Bomsori’s irresistible “Stitch this!” smile over her chin-rest as she faced up to orchestra, conductor and audience in turn through the white-knuckle ride of the Allegro vivacissimo, dancing as she sped through the final chicane and headed into uproarious applause. Yes she made it, even if she didn’t make it quite her own.
The evening had got underway with the full-bodied swell of Britten’s Four Sea Interludes, a little too boxed-in tempo-wise under Ryan Bancroft’s baton, the high pearly shimmer of Dawn a little more mastery than mystery, although the Storm showed the NRPO thrillingly at full tilt into the wind. Orchestra and conductor alike seemed more relaxed, after the exertions of the Tchaikovsky, with Rachmaninov’s Symphonic Dances. The saxophone vocalise in the first movement (Non) allegro was perfection, the sad, serpentine melody spooling out under the Concertgebouw's chandeliers. Bancroft set up each iteration of the waltz theme in the Andante con moto with care and restraint, before sweeping his hands over the orchestra as he freed up the tempi and began to paint a rich sound with all the colours. Then it was all eyes on the percussion section as the Allegro vivace hurtled towards the finish. What a blast!
