Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in three movements.
You've maybe been there: the orchestra have tuned and a hushed silence reigns. Then, out walk the conductor and the soloist - the heroine of our story; our action hero.
Concertos have fascinated me, not for their virtuosity but for their ability to tell stories other generes do not tell as vividly.
As the performance begins, maybe we identify with the soloist on their journey; fighting for life and limb in a storm of woodwind and percussion or meandering through a dark wood, or with their triumphant success against all the odds.
As a composer the genre can be intimidating; it is a well worn path. Do you try and push the technical envelope of the instrument? What relationships do you build between your soloist and the orchestra - or those within? Do you recognise the canon or play ignorant?
It is said that we are often unreliable narrators of our own experiences; the conclusions we draw from our experiences may not be the truth but they do become our truths. It is in this idea of the soloist as narrator, drawing on the tapestry of older concertos, that this work exists. Our protagonist navigates the world around them, facing dangers, engaging in daring adventures and in so doing, reveals to themselves and us, their true nature.
It is a tale told many times, in many ways. This is my telling.