I can NOT Believe this beautiful music is interrupted by a loud commercial with the announcer yelling!

She stood for that whole piece. Beautiful Bravo

beautiful

Brainy Baby Left Brain

There are other fine interpretations of this Bach piece on KZbin. I like versions by Perlman and Janine Jansen (amongst others) also, but I somehow keep coming back to this one. Her tone and timing are just so captivating and utterly commanding. You cannot help standing still, do nothing and just listen in awe. One almost forgets to breathe…

I almost saw her do this concerto live in Dallas a few years ago. Scratched at the last minute for tendonitis. 😭 Jaap van Zweden DSO conductor described this as the godfather of concertos. Those words were music to my ears as a lifelong hardcore Beethovian. Don't miss her Bach Partita Chaconne, recorded when she was 16! If we really want the rest of the universe to notice us, we need to include this in one of NASA's time capsules!

her clarity of voicing in polyphonic works is insane! bach to this, so much to admire 💗

Best living violinist for this piece I have head so far, just one step from Arthur Grumiaux, but I like Arthur's violin quality better, more deeper with harmony, think Frank Zimmermann uses his instrument and with similar playing style.

9:55 ❤

한국에서 브람스 소나타 전곡 공연 감상후 더 좋아진 힐러리한 한국사람이면서 성이 한씨 같아요ㅋ.

The musicians around her look awestruck.

I'm from Cornwall in the far South west of England, and Cornwall hardly recognises English jurisdiction. 'The Lark Ascending' is not a piece of music that epitomises Cornwall to me, but this wonderous music from Vaugh-Williams really says England to me. This is a stupendous performance by the marvellous Hilary Hahn, who enthrals me with her performances from Bach to Mozart and to Vaughan Williams.

Many years ago, my wife and I went to a chamber orchestra concert in an ancient church near Reeth in the Yorkshire Dales. The conductor told the story of a talented, beautiful Australian violinist who came to the UK on a years sabbatical with the chamber orchestra. Her favourite pice of music was The Lark Ascending. Unfortunately, on Christmas Eve she went down with influenza and on New Yearks Eve she died of multiple organ failure. Ther played this in her honour and remembrance.

As much as I like Hilary Hahn, this interpretation is neither a dance nor rustic. For some reason she also ignores every dynamic marking and accent as well as the important fermata before the coda.

Sorry I forgot Vaughan stupidly.

It's as perfect as perfect ever could become.Thank you helen for something humanly...perfect.?

Beautiful

She makes us feeling music thaks.

This performance is very moving. The mastery, poise, beauty of tone, precision. Just magical

Hilary is brilliant, but I don’t care for her interpretation here. Her technique is flawless, but the way she’s moving her body is a little strange.

Tremendous! Perfectly tuned, to the ear, to the mind, and to the heart. For the soul.

How did she play like only the hardest pieces ever in this same concert? Paganini 24, Erlkönig, Ysaye sonata 3, paganiniana, Last Rose of Summer... What the heck.

Hillary is the most wonderful musicien playing Beethoven❤

❤

Esos miserables federales querían joder el destino con TiRz con sus programaciones hijos de la gran PT

YES YOU ARE A REALY WHAT YOU ARE A VIRTUOSITY 😊❤️😉. HONOR A AA A. TALENT 😊

hey Ralph, what's up

Poor camera

今天衣服很適合她！

❤❤❤❤❤

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Comfort of her wonderful performance is off the charts

Sehr wunderschön, beide Hilary und ihre Interpretation.

I think of this as a perfect piece of music; mesmerizing, beautiful, and a wonderful depiction of its pastoral subject. Whenever it comes on, I have to listen to the end, which has meant, on a few occasions, that I’ve sat in my car in my driveway waiting for its lovely end.

0:56 so beautiful... sounds like the sunlight refracting on a body of water, out in the open nature. It's so impressionistic

Vaughan Williams must have been a magical fairy, not a mere mortal. I have loved this music since a very young age. The music soars above humanity. Bliss and tears in equal measure...

Beautiful❤

I just love this, so beautiful!

Eres tan Presiosa que todos casi todos te codician y desean para ellos y no para mi como debería de ser , Tú mi Lindo y Presioso AmoR Violinista de mi AmoR. ❤❤❤ QUE LINDA ERES My DARLING .

This is a gift of magic sound ❤️ Love her depiction of the Lark. Touched my soul. As a new violinist myself, this gives me so much comfort and inspiration 🎻❤️

goodness that duet at 20:28 is played nicely

This is really beautiful

She plays worse every year.

No es Hahn, no es su violín: es el espíritu de Bach manifestándose ante una muchedumbre del futuro.

No words are sufficient ❤️

Astounding, when it comes to the interpretation and musicality though, Chloe Chua is just the best 😄

The cameraman is just worried about his own form of art and just can't leave the recording simply going. Nobody cares for your cuts and fade off man. Just put the camera on Hilary, I don't want to watch the ground. How annoying.

ذلك الصوت... ذلك يذكرني بالربيع...

for anyone that is aware there is a poem connected to this piece. He rises and begins to round, He drops the silver chain of sound Of many links without a break, In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake, All intervolv’d and spreading wide, Like water-dimples down a tide Where ripple ripple overcurls And eddy into eddy whirls; A press of hurried notes that run So fleet they scarce are more than one, Yet changingly the trills repeat And linger ringing while they fleet, Sweet to the quick o’ the ear, and dear To her beyond the handmaid ear, Who sits beside our inner springs, Too often dry for this he brings, Which seems the very jet of earth At sight of sun, her music’s mirth, As up he wings the spiral stair, A song of light, and pierces air With fountain ardor, fountain play, To reach the shining tops of day, And drink in everything discern’d An ecstasy to music turn’d, Impell’d by what his happy bill Disperses; drinking, showering still, Unthinking save that he may give His voice the outlet, there to live Renew’d in endless notes of glee, So thirsty of his voice is he, For all to hear and all to know That he is joy, awake, aglow, The tumult of the heart to hear Through pureness filter’d crystal-clear, And know the pleasure sprinkled bright By simple singing of delight, Shrill, irreflective, unrestrain’d, Rapt, ringing, on the jet sustain’d Without a break, without a fall, Sweet-silvery, sheer lyrical, Perennial, quavering up the chord Like myriad dews of sunny sward That trembling into fulness shine, And sparkle dropping argentine; Such wooing as the ear receives From zephyr caught in choric leaves Of aspens when their chattering net Is flush’d to white with shivers wet; And such the water-spirit’s chime On mountain heights in morning’s prime, Too freshly sweet to seem excess, Too animate to need a stress; But wider over many heads The starry voice ascending spreads, Awakening, as it waxes thin, The best in us to him akin; And every face to watch him rais’d, Puts on the light of children prais’d, So rich our human pleasure ripes When sweetness on sincereness pipes, Though nought be promis’d from the seas, But only a soft-ruffling breeze Sweep glittering on a still content, Serenity in ravishment. For singing till his heaven fills, ’T is love of earth that he instils, And ever winging up and up, Our valley is his golden cup, And he the wine which overflows To lift us with him as he goes: The woods and brooks, the sheep and kine He is, the hills, the human line, The meadows green, the fallows brown, The dreams of labor in the town; He sings the sap, the quicken’d veins; The wedding song of sun and rains He is, the dance of children, thanks Of sowers, shout of primrose-banks, And eye of violets while they breathe; All these the circling song will wreathe, And you shall hear the herb and tree, The better heart of men shall see, Shall feel celestially, as long As you crave nothing save the song. Was never voice of ours could say Our inmost in the sweetest way, Like yonder voice aloft, and link All hearers in the song they drink: Our wisdom speaks from failing blood, Our passion is too full in flood, We want the key of his wild note Of truthful in a tuneful throat, The song seraphically free Of taint of personality, So pure that it salutes the suns The voice of one for millions, In whom the millions rejoice For giving their one spirit voice. Yet men have we, whom we revere, Now names, and men still housing here, Whose lives, by many a battle-dint Defaced, and grinding wheels on flint, Yield substance, though they sing not, sweet For song our highest heaven to greet: Whom heavenly singing gives us new, Enspheres them brilliant in our blue, From firmest base to farthest leap, Because their love of Earth is deep, And they are warriors in accord With life to serve and pass reward, So touching purest and so heard In the brain’s reflex of yon bird; Wherefore their soul in me, or mine, Through self-forgetfulness divine, In them, that song aloft maintains, To fill the sky and thrill the plains With showerings drawn from human stores, As he to silence nearer soars, Extends the world at wings and dome, More spacious making more our home, Till lost on his aërial rings In light, and then the fancy sings. George Meredith

Amazing ❤