First Beethoven, then Brahms; finally Tchaikovsky's concerto (written in the same year as the Brahms, 1878) completes the trilogy of great Violin Concertos in that eminently suitable key for the instrument, D major. All three, despite their inevitable element of virtuosity, are more essentially lyrical outpourings of melody rather than virtuoso showpieces; their greatness lies in their consistently inspired level of purely musical invention, as opposed to the technical fireworks. Tchaikovsky was a variable composer, writing first-class masterpieces simultaneously with dry and uninspired works, but this concerto is one of his very best pieces, and one of the few that is predominantly cheerful. The only reason why it has always been overshadowed by its sister work, the First Piano Concerto, is simply the latter's first five bars, whose irresistible, grand horn call has propelled the entire work into the select gallery of all-time favourites in the classical repertoire. Presumably the audience, thereafter lulled into soporific contentment, does not notice that once the introduction has run its course the popular motif never reappears, and the rest of the work is musically on a much less exalted level. But the case of the Violin Concerto is exactly the opposite: Tchaikovsky adopts the same curious procedure, starting with a theme that is to prove irrelevant to the main body of the movement; but this time the opening is not particularly striking, whereas the rest of the symphonic material is electrifying. In his arrangement for violin and piano, published first, he dedicated it to Leopold Auer, already the dedicatee of the Sérenade mélancholique, but Auer's opinion was that the solo part needed thorough revision, and somehow he never found the time to execute the task, so the concerto languished until a younger man, Adolf Brodsky, realised the magnificence of the work, learnt it, and made his Viennese debut with it in December 1881, conducted by Hans Richter, upon which Tchaikovsky dedicated it instead to Brodsky. The old-fashioned critics were abusive, but the public loved it and it was repeated many times, eventually (in 1893, a few months before the composer's death) by Auer himself.