The Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 35 was the only concerto for violin composed by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. Composed in 1878, it is one of the best-known violin concertos.
This was Kyung-Wha Chung's first recording, made when she was 22, just after her sensational London debut in the Tchaikovsky Concerto with the same orchestra and conductor. It is splendid. Only a young, radiantly talented player could make these two tired warhorses sound so fresh and vital; only a consummately masterful one could sail through their daunting technical difficulties with such easy virtuosity and perfection. Her tone is flawlessly beautiful, varied in color and inflection; she puts her technical resources entirely at the service of the music, giving every note meaning and honestly felt expression without exaggeration or sentimentality. The Tchaikovsky has charm, humor, sparkle; the slow movement is dreamy, wistful, and unmuted but subdued and inward. The Sibelius is dark and bleak but full-blooded, passionate, and intense. The orchestra sounds and plays better in the Sibelius.
It's hard to believe that it's almost 30 years since Joshua Bell recorded these concertos with Ashkenazy and the Cleveland Orchestra. They still sound very good, and I was particularly taken by the Wieniawski because I had enjoyed Heifetz's performance from the early 1950s, but the quality of the orchestral sound here made me realize what the earlier recording lacked. The Tchaikovsky is excellent too, and Ashkenazy's accompaniments are alert and well-integrated with the solo part, and the recording, thankfully, does not spotlight the violin unduly the balance seems just right to me.
Nemanja Radulovic takes on Tchaikovsky for his second Deutsche Grammophon release, promising a personal approach to one of the warhorses of the repertory, the Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 35. The album's most unusual feature is the full-scale reworking of the Variations on a Rococo Theme, Op. 33, recast here for viola, string ensemble, and piano by Radulovic collaborator Yvan Cassar and played by the violinist's (or here, violist's) own Double Sens ensemble.
Nigel Kennedy’s repackaged 1986 recording of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto is an adventure – free, rhapsodic, emphasising the constant flow of song which is the work’s main asset. Perhaps he’s a little over-keen to emphasise what melancholy there is here, nearly bringing the outer movements to a halt with the bitter-sweet dreams of second subjects, but the Canzonetta is a miracle of introspection. All this passes Gil Shaham by. While the young Israeli clearly has a fabulous palette, conjuring a bright, beautiful sheen at the top of the instrument (though unduly spotlit by DG), he rarely uses it discriminatingly enough, and the sense of flexible movement so vital for the Tchaikovsky is missing.