BBCSO/Järvi/Kavakos review – virtuosic violinist makes fiendishly light work of Tchaikovsky

The intricate concerto was paired with the world premiere of Dani Howard’s likable Concerto for Brass and a lush Scriabin symphony, all admirably led by Paavo Järvi

London will be seeing a lot more of Paavo Järvi when the Estonian conductor takes the reins at the London Philharmonic in 2028. Here, on the podium with the BBC Symphony Orchestra, he proved a model of calm, control and clarity as well as the most sensitive of accompanists, shepherding a breathtaking account of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto by Leonidas Kavakos.

The Russian composer struggled for three years to find a soloist brave enough to take on the work’s premiere, yet Kavakos was clearly undaunted. The Greek violinist’s exceptional dexterity and pinpoint intonation at the very top of the range made light of fiendish passagework that has foxed some of the finest. The first movement’s intricate variations were exquisitely decorated, while the intensity of his playing drew spontaneous applause mid-cadenza. Järvi, for his part, was alert to the soloist’s generous rubato, keeping the orchestra in soft-shoed lockstep. As the simple eloquence of the canzonetta gave way to a helter-skelter finale, Kavakos let fly, his bow skimming the strings with unerring accuracy. A Bach encore was dispatched with similar poise and precision.

The Tchaikovsky came hot on the heels of the world premiere of Dani Howard’s Concerto for Brass. Its subtitle, Signal, is a nod to a time when brass instruments were frequently employed as a means of communication. It opened with a buzz of violins and a view hallooing of horns in perfect fifths, the concerto’s signature interval, before the rest of the section joined the hunt. Bright, celebratory and eminently likable, the music shimmered and frothed, its energetic outbursts crowned with fluttering trumpets and underpinned by sonorous bass trombone and tuba.

Generally sumptuous, if occasionally turgid, Scriabin’s Second Symphony eschews the harmonic instability of his later works, preferring to plough a lush, late-Romantic furrow. Järvi let it unfold naturally, the internal architecture rendered admirably clear. And yet, where needed, his interpretation packed a brooding emotional punch: the melancholy strivings of the opening movement, for example, or the central enchanted garden episode with its percussive climaxes. The composer himself dismissed the quasi-bombastic finale as “banal”. Perhaps – though Järvi moved heaven and earth to convince us otherwise.

• Available on BBC Sounds until 12 October. The Proms continue until 12 September.