The National Radio Orchestra welcomes conductor Jessica Cottis back to the podium this week. The program for Friday evening features Modest Mussorgsky's A Night on Bald Mountain, Max Bruch's Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 26, and Ralph Vaughan Williams's Symphony No. 5 in D major. The soloist of the evening will be violinist Alexandru Tomescu.

This week's program includes Max Bruch's Violin Concerto No. 1 - a deeply beloved work and, indeed, the composer's best-known piece, despite his having written hundreds of others. How do you explain the enduring popularity of this concerto?

It's popular for good reason - it's an exquisitely melodic score that takes us on a deeply emotional journey. The concerto is warm, generous, and heartfelt, with a perfect sense of proportion. The soloist shines in moments of great virtuosity, while the orchestra is equally engaged in vigorous, energetic passages.It's no surprise to me that this is Bruch's most cherished work - and, more broadly, one of the most loved violin concertos in the entire repertoire.

Is this your first collaboration with violinist Alexandru Tomescu?

Yes, it is our first time working together, and I'm very much looking forward to it. I know that Alexandru is a regular presence on the Radio Hall stage and that he shares a wonderful relationship with the orchestra. It will be a pleasure for me to join this musical context for the first time.

The rest of the program includes Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain and Vaughan Williams's Symphony No. 5, a work less frequently heard on Romanian stages. How do these pieces fit together within the evening's program?

Vaughan Williams's Symphony No. 5 is an extraordinarily fascinating work. He wrote nine symphonies - what one might call the "golden number" of symphonies - and only two of them end quietly; the Fifth is one of these. I find this particularly interesting, considering the symphony was composed during the Second World War - a time marked by turmoil, destruction, and violence. You might expect a symphony from such a period to convey anger, despair, or devastation. But Vaughan Williams takes an entirely different approach. He searches for balance, offering us another perspective on life. His message, in essence, is: if the world is engulfed in war, it becomes all the more important to keep peace, hope, love, empathy, and openness alive in our hearts. The symphony is, in essence, a hymn to all these values. It is a work of pastoral beauty. The horns in the opening evoke a distant call, conjuring images of England's green hills and serene countryside landscapes, before the violins enter with a theme of rare beauty. Throughout the symphony, one can sense echoes of folk songs, imbued with great vitality and expressiveness.

To me, the evening's musical program achieves a wonderful balance. Bruch's violin concerto offers another kind of beauty -direct, passionate, and open-hearted. The concert begins, however, with Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain, in the Rimsky-Korsakov orchestration - a dark, almost supernatural world filled with witches and stormy atmosphere. So the program follows a striking trajectory: from darkness and chaos, we move to the human and emotional beauty of Bruch, and finally, we arrive at the radiant light, peace, and hope of Vaughan Williams's symphony. People often ask us in classical music: "Why should we still listen to classical music? What relevance does it have today?" Well, this Fifth Symphony holds the answer - it is a work profoundly relevant to our world, even now.

You are returning to Bucharest and once again collaborating with the National Radio Orchestra. How would you describe the relationship you've built with this ensemble?

I always come to Bucharest with great joy to work with the National Radio Orchestra. We have been collaborating for several years now, and each time it's a genuine pleasure. They are extraordinary musicians - full of energy and of an exceptional technical level. During our rehearsal weeks, I often feel as though we become a single musical organism. We truly enjoy the rehearsal process, and what results, we hope, is something magical - music that we are eager to share with the Bucharest audience. The National Radio Orchestra is a fantastic ensemble, and for me, it is always a privilege and a delight to return.

You have a special passion for butterflies. Do you see any connection between this fascination and your work as a musician?

There isn't a direct link, but thinking about it, my love for butterflies began in childhood when I first noticed the color of their wings - those tiny, colorful scales, like powder, that remained on my fingers after one landed on my hand. I was fascinated by that play of colors, that iridescence. And in an orchestra, I think there's something similar - an immense variety of colors, textures, nuances, and expressive possibilities.

There's also the idea of ephemerality. Once a butterfly reaches its final form, its life is often very short. They are born, their wings dry, and then they fly. Some live only two weeks, others a few months. They are such fragile, transient beings… and I think that fleeting quality adds to their beauty. It's the same with music. When we perform a piece in concert, that moment is unique. The process behind it is similar - we rehearse, we prepare, we grow - and during the performance, we "take flight". Only those present in the hall experience that moment, which then disappears and lives on only in memory. It's an analogy that, for me, makes perfect sense.