Reviews of violinist Paul Huang’s concert performances often rave about his "golden tone," and his latest recording, Mirror (Naïve), captures that quality in all its glorious sonority. You might attribute that to his ancient violin: the 1742 "ex-Wieniawski" Guarneri del Gesú (which takes its name from the famous 19th-century Polish virtuoso and composer Henryk Wieniawski), on extended loan from the Stradivari Society of Chicago. "It's my trusted companion now for 11 years," he says. "This recording is made with the sound of this legendary violin." But there's much more at work here than lovingly shaped wood and four strings.

Huang is one of those once-in-a-generation violinists whose sheer virtuosity is equally matched by his intensity and sensitivity especially when tackling a piece as demanding as the Dvorák.

The soloist has very little downtime in the 32-minute piece, punctuated by a series of syncopated Czech folk dance rhythms that go from slow to fast where you would anticipate it would progress fast to slow.

Huang interrupted spasms of frenetic energy with sublimely lush drama and simply gorgeous passages that he summoned with dramatic flourishes that always seemed in service to the music.

Gomez was in lockstep with every move Huang made, leading the orchestra in a perfectly timed and exciting performance.

These are grand, ambitious readings, shot through with colour and fantasy - from Paul's tangy pizzicatos (you can tell that Prokofiev was thinking of David Oistrakh) to the eerie, distant chime of Helen's piano in the third movement of the Prokofiev. But they're never less than taut: these are tales told without a wasted note, purposeful, vivid and gripping [...] It's a price worth paying for musical storytelling of such virtuosity and conviction.

What a superb choice of programme: embattled masterpieces composed by two composers who admired each other greatly, Poulenc and Prokofiev, during and just after the Second World War, with the Arvo Pärt as breathing space. Paul and Helen Huang aren't related, but the true teamwork makes better sense than any other performance I've heard of the Poulenc Sonata for Violin and Piano, inexplicably heard less often in concert than Prokofiev's dark and tragic first. I was blown away by the Prokofiev, where the opening Andante assai has the perfect realisation of what the composer likened to wind in a graveyard, and an ending that has one holding one's breath for what feels like a long time. The watery vision of the slow movement flows seamlessly into other ideas. A masterly performance of one of the great sonatas of the 20th century.

Superstar violinist Paul Huang played the exhilarating Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto with all the fireworks one expects, yet brought a pathos to the subdued sections that showcased his remarkable emotional range. Huang’s sound is full and enveloping, without a hint of pushing or stridency. The warmth of the G string continues to the heights of the E string. His harmonics are impossibly clear and focused. This may have something to do with the fact that he plays the 1742 "ex-Wieniawski" Guarneri del Gesù – an instrument that sounded as if it was being played right next to me, when, in fact, I was seated in the last row of the balcony.

Huang, making his third appearance as a soloist with the KSO since 2017, is a master at making intricacy and precision sound commonplace. Although assisted by the 1742 “ex-Wieniawski” Guarneri del Gesù violin on extended loan to him, what one hears is Huang the storyteller. If anything, his KSO visits have revealed an increasing depth of maturity in which he fully commands the narrative. Not only are the storyteller’s periods, commas, and exclamation points in place, but complex plots and descriptions have been filled with subtle meanings. One had only to experience the first movement cadenza to grasp this mastery. Turning the corner coming out of that cadenza, Maestro Aram Demirjian created a gorgeously transcendent moment with a gentleness—led by KSO principal flute Devan Jaquez—that was achingly beautiful.

Jaded and tired of that old warhorse, the Tchaikovsky violin concerto? Paul Huang and the Orchestra of the Music Makers (OMM) with Music Director Chan Tze Law might be just the ticket to helping you believe again. So well-known is this concerto that it takes a very special performance to dust the cobwebs off and make it sparkle again – such was tonight’s concert. 

Remember the name. Young Taiwanese-American violinist Paul Huang will light up the classical musical world in years to come, much like his older compatriot Cho-liang Lin did a generation before. Exhibiting faultless intonation, a gorgeous big tone and rich vibrato, his vision was redolent of great masters of the past - Jascha Heifetz, Nathan Milstein and David Oistrakh, just to name a few. The orchestra was equally responsive to every nuance and feint, supporting him to the hilt yet unafraid to exude passion and fervour in this unabashedly Romantic music.

Serenity was eclipsed by suppression (both emotional and political), as Huang took on Shostakovich’s emotionally turbulent violin concerto. With piercing clarity and poised presence, Huang delivered a deeply personal performance, with eyes closed and an inward focus. His careful and considered approach to the “Passacaglia” was particularly affecting and poignant, his hopeful, soaring violin seeming to call out against a sea of darkness.

The New York premiere of Jessie Montgomery’s Musings for two violins is easily my new favourite work of hers and was spectacularly performed by CMS violinists Paul Huang and Danbi Um. Each of the six movements was delightful in its own way but throughout them all a Bach-like elegance and controlled sophistication took precedence. Huang and Um played with such resonant sound that it often sounded like more than two violins, and yet their ensemble was so well matched that simultaneously they seemed as one player.

Der 33-Jährige hat sich Tschaikowskis Violinkonzert vorgenommen, einen Hit des Repertoires also. Welche eigene Farben kann er ihm verleihen? Zarte, duftige zunächst. Huang kostet die weltumarmende Eingangs- und Signaturmelodie nicht zu üppig aus, er achtet sehr auf dynamische und klangliche Nuancierung. Die virtuosen Passagen spielt er mit enormer Sauberkeit und Transparenz.

Zu den aufstrebenden jungen Künstlern am Klassik-Himmel zählt der 33-jährige Violinist Paul Huang aus Taiwan, der in Sälen wie dem Lincoln Center New York, der Londoner Wigmore Hall oder dem Festival Lucerne auftritt, aber auch schon im Pariser Louvre-Museum spielen durfte. Am nächsten Sonntag, 7. April, ist er bei den Braunschweiger Meisterkonzerten im Großen Haus des Braunschweiger Staatstheaters zu Gast. Sein Studium absolvierte Huang an der renommierten Juilliard School in New York, wo er seither lebt. Dort erreichten wir ihn zu einem Videogespräch.

The program’s titular draw was Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D major Op. 35 (1878), in which the soloist was definitely not a newcomer. The first and last thing to be said about the account by the Taiwan-born Paul Huang, in what was clearly the warmest of partnerships with Mr. Halls and the Pacific Symphony, was that it sounded fresh-minted from beginning to end, as if all concerned had just discovered the work and were delighted with it.

When violinist Paul Huang looks at the word "virtuoso," he sees the word "virtue."

"I think that's where the meaning of the word 'virtuosity' comes from," Paul said. "We tend to get bogged down with the idea that 'virtuosity' is all about showing off, and showmanship, but I think there is a greater meaning."

Paul, who received an Avery Fisher Career Grant in 2015 and Lincoln Center Award for Emerging Artists in 2017, officially lives in New York but also spends much of his time in his native Taiwan - and on the road. For 10 years he has been playing the 1742 "ex-Wieniawski" Guarneri del Gesù, on loan through the Stradivari Society of Chicago. Just this month Paul appeared on the cover for Strings Magazine, and October 6 is the release of Kaleidoscope, his first recording in a series of six recordings that he will do for the French label Naive Records.

Violinist Paul Huang wants the world to love the violin as much as he does. Born in Taiwan and raised by parents he describes as "not musical," Huang was unconditionally supported early in his fascination with the violin, an instrument he first encountered at the age of seven when attending a music recital in his hometown. "I was completely captivated by this little wooden box that created such beautiful sounds," he says. "The idea of being onstage, playing such an instrument, was something I became instantly fascinated with. I told my parents that was what I wanted to do with my life, they said yes, and I have never thought of doing anything else since. I am still madly in love with the violin and with sharing the gift of this beautiful music."

Huang and Rabinovich gave what was one of the most satisfying chamber music performances we have heard in years. Their expression, phrasing, dynamics and all else were so well attuned to one another you would guess they have been working on this material extensively. In so thinking, you’d be only half right.

"𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘩 [𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘪 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘴] 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘗𝘢𝘶𝘭’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘯’𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘪, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘢, 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺-𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘷𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯.⁣

At times it was unclear which was more impressive: Huang’s nonchalance in the face of a virtuosic score, or the immense fun he was having with the music and the orchestra – which was a delight. Huang’s dolce playing in the third movement was enchanting, with seamless lines and tender emotion. The brilliant double-stopped runs at the start of the finale were tossed off with aplomb, humour and precision; His facility was consistently impressive.

Paul Huang brought an ideal sweet, silvery tone to the Prelude. He proceeded to display a remarkable strong double-stop and chordal technique. Even in the quicker, higher passages, his sound cut distinctly through the orchestra. The Andante was especially affirming, affecting- really just beautiful.

In the Finale, Huang maintained a graceful touch even at maximum attack, with wondrous fluidity on the rapid runs, chromatic and otherwise, fingers flying almost too fast to see. After an ovation he returned with Corigliano’s Red Violin Caprices as a solo encore.

Huang displayed both intensity and accuracy, culminating in some serene high E string playing […]. Huang’s superlative technique sparked the Finale with an edge of excitement. Huang played the encore, Kreisler’s Scherzo, with consummate panache.