Joshua Bell: Redefining Tchaikovsky

Joshua Bell is a world-famous American violinist. He has recorded over twenty CDs, including some unconventional bluegrass music with bassist and composer Edgar Meyer (among others). Bell won a Grammy for his recording of Nicholas Maw's violin concerto, and is currently on tour playing in large and small venues around the country.

This review is from a performance on January 5, 2005 at the Tucson Convention Center Music Hall in Tucson, Arizona. Conductor George Hanson led the Tucson Symphony Orchestra through Tchaikovsky's Polonaise from Eugene Onegin, Serenade for Strings, and Violin Concerto in D Major, with Joshua Bell as a guest soloist.

Masterful, stylistically distinctive, exacting, and thrilling to watch, violinist Joshua Bell stands out from the crowd. When you hear all the well-deserved praise, the exciting descriptions of his performances, and the warm and intelligently objective way he describes his love of the violin and performing, you imagine someone who is larger than life.

When you finally get to attend a concert, you expect someone who at every moment will command your attention without effort, and perhaps even a formally dressed man in tails. Jascha Heifetz, one of the most renowned of all modern violinists, was famous for this � an archetype of violinists. He had astonishing stage presence while playing and not playing, and almost always wore tails. But not Joshua Bell. He defies the archetype.

Until he starts playing.

I watched some of Bell's performances on television, so I should have known what to expect: what he looks like, how he dresses, and his demeanor. And when a dapper, tails-wearing, exceptionally tall, handsome, smiling, and confident young violinist arrived on the stage I automatically assumed it was Bell. It wasn't. In fact, it was the First Chair. Somewhat embarrassingly, it took me a while to figure this out. I wanted him to be Joshua Bell � to live up to my idealized expectations.

This is not to say that Bell's performance wasn't everything it was chalked up to be � it was and then some. But it was a bit of a shock when Bell walked on stage in his simple black silk shirt and pants, his floppy hair almost in his eyes, a baby-face, and so shy that he couldn't gaze into the audience for very long. Quickly, though, I discovered this was part of Bell's immense charm. The moment he and the orchestra began to play, he completely transformed. And that, though I had seen it before, was even more surprising.

Defying his initial shyness, as soon as he stopped being Joshua Bell the violinist and became Joshua Bell the soloist, he instantly fulfilled my expectations. His love of the concerto was apparent as he deeply immersed himself in the music � he became a part of it. He moved so excitedly with the rhythm, while never missing a note, that I thought he'd nearly drop the violin or graze it on the stage! Timid no more, Bell interacted with the orchestra confidently, leading them seamlessly through his Tchaikovsky. The conductor seemed superfluous.

I felt transported.

Even though I'd heard the concerto many times before, it felt surprisingly new. Bell's interpretations were beautiful, unique, modern, and wonderfully exciting. I couldn't help but be reminded of Richard Halley, the composer from Atlas Shrugged. I wasn't watching the local symphony playing Tchaikovsky anymore � now it was Halley's Fifth and I was in Galt's Gulch.

The earlier performances by the orchestra (sans Bell) of the Polonaise from Eugene Onegin and the Serenade for Strings were remarkably exciting as well. Those two pieces alone would have been an outstanding show, but the orchestra really shined during the concerto. Bell's leading of the string section made them the focus of the show � as string sections so often are � but in this concerto the flute and oboes really stood out. The woodwinds speak to the soloist in this piece, and this performance was perfectly on target. Their light qualities sang out amusingly as Bell turned to them, allowing them their moments to shine. It was as if they really were talking, completely and effortlessly aware of each other, in a surprising dialogue that delighted me. At this point I was so enchanted that I felt compelled to take my companion's hand.

My heart raced for the entire thirty minutes of the concerto. I could even hear moments of gasping delight from audience members. The cadenza alone left me nearly delirious, while later, the encore (oh the encore!), the most thrilling piece from John Corigliano's score for the film The Red Violin (Bell was the soloist for the score), left me speechless as the crowd jumped to its feet, and I applauded till my hands were numb.

It still gives me goose bumps just thinking about it.

Bell's ability to perfectly balance precision with personal expression is his greatest strength, and it shined in this performance. This is what makes him the virtuoso that he is: Bell's playing enhanced the original work, and his sweetly modern sense of life breathed a feeling of freedom into the music. No doubt this also had something to do with the unconventional conductor, George Hanson. With Bell's unique playing and the equally energetic Hanson, the entire performance, from Polonaise to Concerto, became less "Russian Romantic Period" and more "21st Century American Romanticist" without losing one bit of the sense that is was indeed Tchaikovsky.

It was the way Tchaikovsky should be played.


Marnee Dearman is an Engineer at Dearman Systems, Inc. in Tucson, Arizona. Among her most important responsibilities are making coffee for herself and her dad every morning, and designing advanced embedded sensor and control systems.