Double firsts

Can it really be four years since the last International Tchaikovsky Competition, when I listened to six cellists in three days play his Rococo Variations in St Petersburg? Yes it is, and here I am again, this time in Moscow, to hear the composer’s Violin Concerto six times in three days of finals.

First, though, I was asked to do a mini interview about the competition for the Ukrainian TV channel Kultura. The fact that I hadn’t heard anything yet was not considered an obstacle. I then proceeded to the Tchaikovsky Concert Hall for the first night of the final round (25 June). This is a splendid hall, and very white.

White walls, balconies, Corinthian columns, balustrades, even chair backs. In front of the organ pipes at the back of the platform hung a giant poster of Tchaikovsky glaring over at a cameraman on the balcony.

Below him, the Moscow Philharmonic Orchestra assembled on the platform, before conductor Yuri Simonov entered with the first of the six finalists, the Japanese-American Mayumi Kanagawa (24). Before performing the Tchaikovsky, each contestant had to play one of the last three Mozart concertos. Kanagawa opened with K219 in A major, with a bright-toned, happy first movement, urged forward with many an accent; a great stream of elegantly moulded melody in the Adagio; and rhythmic élan in the rondo finale, with decisive attack in the central Turkish section and a scattering of added dotted rhythms.

In Tchaikovsky’s Concerto Kanagawa’s legato gifts were to the fore. Both main subjects in the first movement flowed seamlessly, with nary an audible bow change, and she later generated dramatic impetus with impeccable spiccato. In the otherwise affecting Canzonetta she inserted an unneeded distraction by taking her mute off halfway through and putting it on the conductor’s stand. She powered through the finale with such eagerness that she sometimes seemed to start the next phrase before she had quite finished the previous one, and smiled happily throughout.

At 28, the Belgian player Marc Bouchkov is already quite a familiar figure. He appeared rakishly dressed down in white shirt with tails out and collar open, and performed the opening movement of Mozart’s K219 with the easy authority and flamboyance of a seasoned campaigner. After a genial, undulating Adagio he produced almost operatic drama in the finale.

Bouchkov opened the Tchaikovsky in vibrant style before setting off like a dashing gallant towards the second subject. This was technicolour playing, not always immaculate, but certainly invigorating. The third movement, too, was high on character, with constant little touches of rubato and a digging bow. But technical errors started to appear, and he lost his way at one point, from which he recovered with a smile. It wasn’t a CD-quality performance, but was certainly a brave and enthralling one.

The following day I got the hang of the Moscow Metro – just in time, as it rained relentlessly for the rest of the competition. So I arrived dry to hear the first of the home-grown finalists, 31-year-old Aylen Pritchin. He opted for Mozart’s Third Violin Concerto K216, which he played with big, beautiful sound and vibrato. It always seemed to be the same vibrato, set in its ways rather than an expressive resource, but his playing was nonetheless shapely and eloquent.

Pritchin produced a gorgeous veiled tone in the second subject of the Tchaikovsky first movement, and there was some truly gentle playing amid the bravura rhetoric. He got up a fine head of steam in the home straight, bringing genuine contrast with the second movement, which was tender and thoughtful. The finale was crisp and vibrant, with resolute character and just the right amount of soulful indulgence.

After the interval, the Czech player Milan Al-Ashhab (26) provided the first appearance of Mozart’s Fourth Concerto in D major K218. His playing was crisp and colourful in the first movement, with sharpness of rhythm and vigour. The phrasing in the Andante cantabile was natural and expressive (Auer’s cadenza at the end seemed overly complex). The finale was a jaunty dance with twinkling colours.

Al-Ashhab had a lightness of touch (largely missing from Pritchin), which also served him well in the Tchaikovsky. The dotted rhythms tripped along, and the staccato semiquavers leading into the first big tutti had a spring in their step. There was a sense of private musing in the second movement, before the finale took wing, and here again he had an almost Mendelssohnian lightness of touch, along with a neat rhythmic sense, so that his rubato always felt right and inevitable.

The youngest finalist, 19-year-old South Korean Donghyun Kim, opened the last evening. He had been here before: he was a first-prize winner in the junior section of the competition in 2015. His performance of Mozart’s Fourth Concerto was refreshingly simple, with shapely phrasing, beautiful and flowing. The last movement sparkled. He played the music the way it goes, without imposing his own musical authority, although he did provide his own rather good cadenzas. It all worked seamlessly.

At the opening of the Tchaikovsky a young man in the audience got up, gave a short speech and blew bubbles before being led away. Kim played on with a sangfroid which matched the maturity of his performance, combining consummate musical and technical command. The cadenza was magnificent, fluent and brilliant. The sheer drive and excitement he generated in the finale was rooted in his obvious feel for the rhythmic heart of every phrase. Whatever the results of the competition, this is a young man to watch.

Clockwise from top firet-prize winner of the violin category Sergey Dogadin showed temfic control; third-placed Donghyun Kim is a young man to watch; second-placed Marc Bouchkw had tremendous flair

Finally, there was Russian Sergey Dogadin (pictured right), 30 years old and with an impressive track record of competition success. In Mozart’s K216 he, too, showed a winning lightness of touch: he floated; he had a nice way with sotto voce. There were exquisite sections in the second movement, and the finale was poised and charming.

Dogadin showed terrific control and shaping of Tchaikovsky’s great paragraphs in the opening movement. He went at it in fine virtuoso style, wielding the bow with dramatic authority. Following the intimate, confessional Canzonetta, the finale was hot-blooded, heart-on-sleeve – and a big heart at that.

Dogadin won, and deservedly so. He was the first gold medallist in quite a while: the first prize was not awarded in the last two violin competitions (nor in three earlier ones). I was a little surprised that Bouchkov came second, given his hiccups in the Tchaikovsky, but he had tremendous flair. Kim was third: excellent – I want to hear more of him.

Kanagawa and Pritchin came joint fourth, and Al-Ashhab was sixth.

At the prize-giving ceremony, Martin Engstroem, the chair of the violin jury (which consisted of Salvatore Accardo, Kristóf Baráti, Michael Haefliger, Mikhail Kopelman, Sergei Krylov, Boris Kuschnir, Elmar Oliveira, Alexei Shalashov, Dmitry Sitkovetsky, Akiko Suwanai and Viktor Tretiakov) said, ‘For violinists this has been a very good year.’ Indeed so.