Review of Top Violinist Playing with London Symphony Orchestra
Audiences were in for a treat when violinist Roby Lakatos played the Barbican
Can the London Symphony Orchestra really swing? Can the orchestra that played on the Star Wars soundtrack—and whose conductors, past and present, include André Previn, Michael Tilson Thomas, and Valery Gergiev—play jazz and contemporary music in a truly idiomatic way? In a word, no, but it hardly mattered in this instance, as they were mainly acting as the backup band for the dynamic Hungarian Gypsy violinist Roby Lakatos and his ensemble in a June 4 concert at London’s Barbican Hall.
Lakatos demonstrated once again that he is every inch a showman, and he looked the part, with his shiny black shoes, bright red leather trousers, diamante belt, and velvet jacket. If the mustache is less flamboyant than in the past and if the flowing mane a bit grayer, the virtuoso level is still set at 11. His fingers-flying, joyful violin playing is simply smile inducing, and the audience and orchestra lapped it up.
The players in Lakatos’ band seemed as eager as their leader to demonstrate their chops, especially cimbalom player Jenö Lisztes, whose sticks moved across the strings in a cartoon-like blur in a Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody.
The mournful-faced second violinist, László Bóni, was less competitive, but then he’s played with Lakatos since the age of 10 when they were both students of Lakatos’ father. Bóni stuck closely to Lakatos’ every move, particularly when the two raced up and down their fingerboards in tandem at breathtaking speed.
Conducted by the young Finn Eva Ollikainen, the LSO was at its most vigorous when it played on its own, notably in Kodály’s Dances of Galánta.
Kudos to concertmaster Carmine Lauri, who braved a duet with Lakatos in Monti’s Csárdás, and to Ollikainen, for not giving in to uncontrollable laughter when Lakatos, with his Cheshire-cat grin, teased her as he seemed to reach the end of a drawn-out cadenza.
The evening’s enjoyment was dampened only by the erratic Barbican sound system, which meant that, in the first half at least, some of Lakatos’ virtuosity was only seen rather than properly heard.
As it happened, Lakatos and his ensemble were a late replacement for an ailing jazz pianist Dave Brubeck. The great jazzer would surely approve of Lakatos’ enticing blend of Gypsy folk, jazz, and many other genres besides.
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