Unsuk Chin has written a mesmerizingly beautiful Violin Concerto (2001), and possibly one of the greatest written in the last half-century. What makes it unique is her use of fascinating, soft, high-pitched melimas, brushed strings over a tapestry of hushed orchestra. Much of the discourse that unfolds from the violin is subtle and allusive, inhabiting the realm of dreams. Because her melodies seemed exotic and Korean-inspired, Chin's Concerto brought to mind her older compatriot Isang Yun - but checking back on Yun, his music is much more aggressive and pounding (see my review of Art of Isang Yun 4). In the second movement, she uses brushed trilling effects that reminded me of the techniques used in the incredible Six Caprices of Salvatore Sciarrino (Salvatore Sciarrino: Caprices for Violin / Un'Immagine d'Arpocrate). But really, Chin's concerto seemed to me one of the rare heirs of Szymanowski's first.
Although the concerto has its "yang" side contrasting with its "yin" (concepts that I wouldn't normally use, but they are very much part of Isang Yun's philosophy), it is, unlike most contemporary music, rarely aggressive, and the "yang", when it occurs, clearly appears as the contrasting element to the all-embracing and framing "yin" rather than, as usual, the other way around. And even in the more dynamic moments, Chin always displays a wonderful and subtle sense of orchestral color, a unique gift for sending the violin to its upper registers, and having it not so much compete against the orchestra as ride on top of it. It really brings to our consciousness that there is an old, overriding and overbearing tradition in western classical music, brought to its apex in the sonata form: the lyrical theme always comes second, as a relief from the first, dominant and dominating one. With Chin, it is the other way around.
Rocaná - the title is Sanskrit and means "room of light" - is a 20 minute orchestral piece, completed in 2008. It is a fine piece, though not as uniquely original as the Violin Concerto. There Chin alternates the aggressive and assertive "yang" outbursts against "yin" passages of stasis and expectancy in a more traditional way, although those moments of stasis are more extended that they might have been in someone else's composition. Stylistically, Chin sounds to me as she is writing in the "contemporary music" style of Everyman (or woman) - I mean, Everyman or woman who doesn't satisfy himself with writing neo-romantic rehash or minimalist-repetitive music, but one who has developed upon the lessons of Ligeti's explorations in orchestral color or Lutoslawski's integration of color, drama and symphonic form in the 1970s. If you find me here less enthusiastic than I might have, don't get me wrong: Rocaná displays Chin's fine sense of color and drama, and it would have called for unrestricted praise in any collection of contemporary music - I'm also listening to and about to review two such collections, which happen to be also by female composers, Joan Tower, Tower: Sequoia; Island Prelude; Silver Ladders; Music for Cello & Orchestra and Augusta Read Thomas/Tania Leon, Augusta Read Thomas: Triple Concerto; Wind Dance/ Tania León: Batá/Carabali. But the Violin Concerto takes you in such another dimension that Rocaná, as good as it is, sounds only average heard after.
The two pieces were recorded live, in January and March 2008. Until the final applause, I had no suspicion of it whatsoever. TT is a shortish 48-minutes, but given how exceptional the Violin Concerto is, this is no deterrent to giving the disc five stars.