There are performances that fill a concert hall, and then there are performances that electrify one. The Australian Chamber Orchestra's upcoming programme, The Devil's Violin, is being pitched firmly in the second category, and on the evidence of the artists involved, that billing is not idle boasting.
Ilya Gringolts, one of the most technically formidable violinists working today, joins the Australian Chamber Orchestra for a concert programme designed to test the outer boundaries of what the violin can do. The pairing is significant. Gringolts has built a reputation across Europe and beyond for combining fearsome technical command with genuine interpretive intelligence, the kind of musician who makes difficult music feel inevitable rather than merely impressive.
For Australian audiences, this is the sort of opportunity that does not arrive every season. World-class soloists of Gringolts' standing tour Australia with far less frequency than their European or North American counterparts might visit comparable cities, a fact that reflects both the tyranny of distance and the economics of international touring. When they do come, the case for attending is strong.
The programme's title gestures toward a long tradition of violin music that courts the diabolical. From Tartini's famous Devil's Trill Sonata to the demonic reputation cultivated by Paganini, the violin has always occupied a peculiar place in Western musical imagination, an instrument capable of beauty so extreme it unsettles. Programmes built around this tradition tend to attract audiences who want something more than polite refinement.
The counter-argument deserves serious consideration: classical music in Australia already struggles to broaden its audience base, and marketing a concert around virtuosic fireworks risks reinforcing the perception that the art form is more about technical spectacle than emotional depth. It is a fair tension. The most enduring classical performances are typically those that use technical mastery as a vehicle for something larger, not as an end in itself.
The ACO, for its part, has a strong track record of programming that respects audiences' intelligence. Under its artistic leadership, the orchestra has consistently balanced accessibility with ambition, which gives reasonable cause to expect that The Devil's Violin will deliver more than mere showmanship.
Tickets are currently available at a 20 per cent discount, which lowers a genuine barrier to attendance. The cost of live classical music remains a real obstacle for many Australians, particularly younger audiences and families, and promotional pricing of this kind is one practical way institutions can address that without compromising the financial sustainability they need to keep programming at this level. Organisations like Creative Australia, the federal arts funding body, have long argued that accessibility and artistic excellence are not competing goals.
Whether you approach this as a committed classical music follower or someone curious about what a violin can actually do when placed in extraordinary hands, the combination of Gringolts and the ACO represents a serious artistic event. The discount makes the decision easier. The music, by all reasonable expectation, will make it worthwhile.