By BBC Music Magazine

Published: Friday, 29 January 2021 at 17:50 PM


How do you arrive at a list of the greatest violinists of all time? It’s the instrument that inspired solo masterpieces from Bach to Bartók, that leads the way in chamber groups and symphony orchestras, that is equally at home in gypsy, klezmer and jazz groups alike. Just where would music be without the wonderful violin?

And in the right hands, few instruments can match the violin for displays of thrilling virtuosity, for expressing the full gamut of human emotions and for sheer beauty of sound. As a result, few instrumentalists have had quite the same legendary status as enjoyed by the greatest violinists.

In fact, stories concerning the violin and those who play it have sometimes gone beyond the realms of reality – for instance, at his prime in the 1820s, Niccolò Paganini was believed by some to made a pact with the devil himself.

Greatest violinists ever

We asked 100 of today’s best players to tell us the violinists who have inspired them most. Each had three choices, with the stipulation that they must have heard them either on disc or live (scroll down the bottom of the page to see how they voted). We then totted up the results to produce the following Top 20 of the greatest violinists of the recorded era…

You may also enjoy our list of the greatest violin concertos of all time.

The greatest violinist of all time

01 David Oistrakh

(1908-74) Ukrainian

Oistrakh used to recall that his dream of becoming a violinist started when, aged three-and-a-half, he was given a toy violin. His father, himself a keen amateur violinist, also introduced him to klezmer tunes, their expressive style and virtuosity becoming an essential part of the budding young violinist’s musical make up which he eventually passed to his students.

Oistrakh was five when he began lessons with his only official teacher, Pyotr Stolyarsky. A pit musician from the Odessa Opera, Stolyarsky was a mediocre player, barely able to play simpler studies by Kreutzer and Mazas. Yet he was a remarkable pedagogue, also teaching such luminaries as Nathan Milstein and Elizaveta Gilels.

Stolyarsky instilled in his pupils the habit of picking up their violin and warming up first thing before breakfast and last thing before going to bed. Oistrakh maintained this habit for the rest of his life. Stolyarsky also nurtured the long legato bow of which Oistrakh became master, telling his pupils: ‘Imagine your bow is your salary. You need to spend it all, but over a single long period.’

Continuing his studies with Stolyarsky at the Odessa Conservatory, Oistrakh graduated aged 18 in 1926, performing Prokofiev’s First Violin Concerto just three years after its Parisian premiere. Still a local celebrity, he was spotted two years later by the great conductor Nikolai Malko, who invited Oistrakh to make his Leningrad debut with the already celebrated Philharmonic Orchestra.

Shortly afterwards, Oistrakh settled in Moscow where he married and had a son, Igor (eventually almost as celebrated a violinist as his father). Oistrakh’s modest and collegial personality, contrary to the bitter, ulcer-inducing rivalry of so many Soviet musicians, readily won him friends among fellow musicians, and his appointment on the staff of the Moscow Conservatoire in 1934 reinforced his association with such violinists as Abram Yampolsky and Lev Tseitlin, and the pianists Heinrich Neuhaus and Vladimir Sofronitsky, all of whom deepened Oistrakh’s musical perception and intelligence.

Following his success in several competitions, including winning second prize at the 1935 Wieniawski Contest in Poland (Ginette Neveu winning first prize), Oistrakh triumphed in the 1937 Ysaÿe Concours in Brussels, so establishing himself as the Soviet Union’s leading violinist. He worked with all the leading Soviet composers, inspiring and closely collaborating on the creation of several major works including violin concertos by Shostakovich, Myaskovsky and Khachaturian, and violin sonatas by Prokofiev and Shostakovich.

His technique – note-sure and cleanly articulated even in the most virtuosic passagework – was crowned by a seamless, singing legato, apparently unbroken by any change in bow direction. Yet Oistrakh’s playing is recognisable not because he coasted, as have so many celebrated violinists, on a generic ‘sound’.

Oistrakh was incisive when appropriate – for instance, when playing Bartók’s First Violin Sonata or Shostakovich’s Violin Concertos. He also had a remarkable ear and feel for sonority, finding an ideal colour for whatever he was playing. Witness the veiled tone quality with which he plays the furtive opening of Debussy’s Sonata, creating a shadowy yet still expressive tone by bowing over the fingerboard (sul tasto), only blossoming into a full-throated sound when the music finally becomes impassioned at the movement’s end.

Yet he never indulged in histrionics: as his great admirer and friend Yehudi Menuhin said, Oistrakh would ‘dramatise with discretion’, having considered every note and every phrase of the works he performed. Oistrakh so closely identified with whatever repertoire he played – whether Bach, Brahms or Shostakovich – that his listeners became no longer aware of his instrument and the technique with which he played it, but rather heard, as if unmediated, his ‘voice’ and its expression.

ESSENTIAL RECORDING: Brahms: Violin Sonata, Op. 100; Prokofiev: Violin Sonata No. 1 With Sviatoslav Richter (piano) Orfeo C 489 981 B

Check out David Oistrakh on Spotify