Skride & Danis star in Prokofiev's First Violin Sonata.

Baiba Skride offered the KL audience a captivating solo violin as well as a violin and piano recital after her dazzling performance of the Sibelius Violin Concerto with Gilbert Varga and the MPO from the night before.

Skride opened her recital with JS Bach's Solo Sonata No 1 in G minor BWV1001. In the opening improvisatory Adagio, Skride quickly entered a kind of personal cosmos, offering the entirely hushed audience a gorgeous reading of this sublime movement. In the following Fugue, she showed impassioned playing whilst exhibiting supreme confidence and technical accuracy in the nefarious multiple stopping of the complex fugal patterns. In the lilting Siciliano, Skride displayed remarkable subtle variations in her tone and expression. In the concluding Presto, the line scurried back and forth at warp speed with remarkable energy throughout the running semi-quaver figurations.

A thematic link to Skride's next offering was the fact that Eugène Ysaÿe wrote his Solo Sonata Op 27 No 1 in G minor after he heard the famous late Hungarian violin Joseph Szigeti playing Bach's BWV1001. Dedicated to Szigeti, Ysaÿe's work also abounds in technical difficulties. Skride despatched the opening Grave with its challenging multiple stopping magnificently, whilst imparting a musing and frail quality to the Fugato second movement. In the Allegretto poco scherzoso third movement, Skride made wide contrasts of the jazzy and pastoral elements of the music and concluded grandly in the Finale.

Prokofiev's Violin Sonata No 1 in F minor Op 80 was Skride's next offering. Joined by pianist Akiko Danis, Skride gave a magnificent account of this sonata which is increasingly popular on recordings and in the concert hall. Skride's carefully graded bowing suited the sombre and contemplative opening of the Andante Assai, whilst the muted ascending and descending violin scales created the effect of "wind in the graveyard" as the composer once described.

The second movement, the Allegro brusco, seemed to have been conceived of as a savage conflict between warring forces, represented by the piano and violin, both engaged in bitonal octaves and discordant rhythmic cross-fire. As a contrast to the barbaric second movement, Skride’s muted violin playing and Danis’ great delicacy in shading on the piano were most impressive in the gentle Andante third movement. The rhythmic shifts in metre of the final movement were expertly dealt with by Skride and Danis. The return of the first movement theme was played with icy beauty before a funereal knell brought the sonata to its enigmatic close.

Ravel’s virtuosic Tzigane closed the well-balanced programme. The opening solo violin passage was hypnotic in Skride's hands, with potency and warmth as well as a generous sprinkling of glitter and exhilarating changes of pace. However, some serious timing and ensemble problems between the violin and piano emerged in the Quasi cadenza section before resolution emerged ahead of the Moderato segment. Danis' piano support was sympathetic and pinpoint, with the duo bringing out all the colours with abounding technical brilliance and clearly having fun with the quirkiness and sheer gypsy virtuoso extravaganza.

Denève's ravishing Russian Fairy Tales concert

Having missed previous Stéphane Denève concerts here in Kuala Lumpur with the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra, I was determined not to miss his Russian Fairytales concert especially when it also featured Renaud Capuçon, the premier French violinist of our times.

The opening piece was Tchaikovsky's Andante Cantabile, which was the adapted second movement for string orchestra from his First String Quartet Op 11. Denève drew the most luscious and velvety string textures from the muted MPO strings, often fining down the already soft tones to an even more hushed dynamic and giving us a most moving interpretation of this short but beautiful movement.

We next heard a terrific account of Bartók’s kaleidoscopic Second Violin Concerto. With Denève and the MPO taut and disciplined, this provided an ideal stage for the soloist Renaud Capuçon, a rich-toned and fearlessly virtuosic protagonist, to shine in the Bartók concerto.

Bartók offers the violinist almost no respite for the concerto’s 36-minute duration. Capuçon was indefatigable, supple and assuredly precise as he navigated the rapid transitions in this mercurial score - by turns lyrical, mocking, joyful and playful. His technical assuredness was awe-inspiring and he produced a round, warm sound that at its loudest easily carried to the furthest extremes of the DFP Hall without distortion, while at its softest, excelled with clearly defined delicacy.

His reading of Bartók’s complex score drew attention to many fine details, with crystal clear phrasing that was subtle and playing that was full of pathos. The pin-point clarity of the fastest sections, the brilliant crispness of the demanding chordal passages and his multi-faceted vibrato allowed the concerto to shine brightly.

Aided by a superb François Tourte bow, Capuçon's 1737 "Panette" Guarneri del Gesù sang throughout uninhibitedly with rich lower string tones, reminiscent of a powerful cello, whilst the upper strings had a rounded warmth as well. It was one of the two best sounding Guarneri del Gesù violins I had heard in over 35 years of concert-going, the other being the 1741 "ex-Kochanski" del Gesù, on which Aaron Rosand performed the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto.

After tumultuous applause, Capuçon gave us his possibly favourite encore piece, Gluck's Dance of the Blessed Spirits from Orfeo ed Euridice. Played solo sans any accompaniment, it afforded us another chance to appreciate the chased golden tones that this superb violin could muster.

Despite a brilliant performance of the Bartók, the comment amongst the most experienced Kuala Lumpur concertgoers was that they could not appreciate the concerto. Perhaps, Capuçon could offer us the Lalo Symphonie Espagnole or the Vieuxtemps Fourth or Fifth Violin Concertos on his next visit to KL.

After the interval, we heard two top Russian composers' musical impressions of fairy tales - those of Prokofiev's Cinderella Suite and Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty Suite. Although Prokofiev later distilled the ballet into a triptych of orchestral suites, Denève elected to cherrypick his preferred excerpts – twelve in all, lasting some 30 minutes in a more or less chronological sequence.

In the Prokofiev, somber strings characterised the Introduction whilst the Shawl Dance exuded nervous energy and showcased the scintillating clarinet playing of Gonzalo Esteban. Sumptuous cello lines were at the heart of the Grand Waltz, whilst the most captivating movement had to be that of the clock; riotously signalling the midnight hour with lurching brass, screeching winds and "ticking" woodblocks, as Denève give it full, terrifying force like a clock that had gone entirely mad.

The second half ended gloriously with Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty Suite, that enabled us to luxuriate in its rich and ravishing sound world which Denève and the MPO replicated passionately. There was just the right amount of rubato. Denève allowed the music to speak for itself, with drama and passion where needed but with subtlety and magic when appropriate too.