Brahms’ charismatic piece seems to have been the best received. It charismatically and slowly grows to a rather melancholic finale, to which one is drawn because of the emotional commitment already developed by the more cheerful beginning. It is rather like Marcos Ordóñez Divi said about Shakespeare: first he makes you laugh and then he makes you cry. This «Violin Concerto» introduces itself with such light, capricious joy that when it turns sour towards the end you can’t help but empathise with what is, by then, a new friend.
Violinist Callaghan did say in his introduction that this was a piece he enjoyed playing, and it showed: his violin, which is older than our town and slightly better taken care of, shone particularly bright in the acute passages of the Concerto. This is where, I believe, pianist Jordi Bitlloch also best expressed the dramatic possibilities of the piano. He was perfect yesterday: timely and at the forefront when required, gentle and in the background when needed. His taking a step back during the final round of applause to let Callaghan be at the forefront was generous and perhaps a bit revealing of his personality, but ultimately unnecessary, as he was every bit as deserving of their hard-earned cheers.
The Violin Sonata was only played until the fugue, but that’s the best bit anyway: in it, the ability of the violin to carry so many different voices was revealed — a task the violin seldom has to do, especially for so long. It requires a steady hand and years of hard work and practice, and Mr Callaghan evidently has that in spades.
(Written on the 14 of May)