A Young Star, A Timeless Concerto

TSO 2026-27 Artist-in-Residence Opens 98^th Season with Tchaikovsky

When 18-year-old violinist Amaryn Olmeda returns to Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto she doesn’t just play the masterpiece, she approaches the performance as a living, breathing work – one that has followed her from an earlier performance in Boulder to the season opening here in Tucson. The work is formidable, freighted with expectation, but for Olmeda, that is exactly what makes it worth revisiting. “It’s going to be so much fun to bring it back,” she says.

Audiences will hear the 2026-27 Tucson Symphony Orchestra’s Artist-in-Residence play Tchaikovsky’s beloved Violin Concerto September 25 & 27, under the direction of Maestro José Luis Gómez. The program also includes Silvestre Revueltas’ Sensemayá and Richard Strauss’ Ein Heldenleben.

“With a concerto, especially one that’s as big as this one, mentally you really have to get very invested in it,” she said. Time has given her room to recognize how her interpretation has developed and how she continues to discover new things inside the score.

That process matters because Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto is not simply well known; it is one of the cornerstones of the violin repertoire, a piece patrons often arrive already carrying in their ears. “With all these big, standard concerti, over time there becomes an expectation as to how one should play it,” Olmeda said. “It becomes a tradition in a way.”

Rather than resist that tradition, Olmeda studies it. She wants to understand the historical context, the musical theory and circumstances surrounding Tchaikovsky’s life when he wrote it. Only after absorbing those fundamentals does she begin asking what she can bring to the music herself: a balance between honoring the composer and allowing her own instincts and sound to shape the performance.

“It can feel stifling at times,” she said of the expectations surrounding such a momentous work. “But once I have all the fundamentals into account, I start running through it and playing it with piano and then with orchestra. I think, ‘OK, what can I bring to the concerto that I think is special?’”

That search for individuality is not finished simply when the notes are recorded in her muscle memory. “Over time I am still discovering things I like about it, and I will for years to come,” she said. Even practical choices, for example whether to use a mute in the second movement as the composer calls for, may depend on the hall and the moment she says.

Born in Melbourne, Australia, Olmeda captured international attention when she earned First Prize and the Audience Choice Award at the 24^th Annual Sphinx Competition during the pandemic, when the experience unfolded online. Since then, her career has continued to gather momentum, including her debut with the NY Philharmonic this summer.

Organizations such as Sphinx have helped open doors. Olmeda found the organization’s network led to new performances and connections. Now, as younger students tell her they are participating in Sphinx, she sees the opportunity being passed forward. “I tell them to have fun,” she said. “It’s so wonderful to be a part of the organization. I get goosebumps!”

Her artistry also carries a personal sense of responsibility. As a woman of color, she represents the changing face of classical music. For generations the concert stage had not always reflected the diversity of the audiences who fill it. Today, a new generation of young soloists are helping to change that picture, bringing a broader range of backgrounds and perspectives to some of the most celebrated works in the repertoire.

Being part of this new generation, she understands what visibility can mean to young listeners. “It’s very special to me that I get to represent so many people that look like me,” she said. After concerts, young musicians sometimes approach her to express what that representation means for them. Olmeda will thank them, acknowledging the courage it takes to speak on the subject.

While she bounces from coast to coast, her life is also shaped by the demands of school. Balancing everything requires flexibility and planning. Olmeda credits supportive professors and family, even as she sometimes weighs sleep against finishing theory homework. “I thrive on the chaos,” she admits.

What she hopes to give Tucson audiences is less a display of virtuosity than a shared experience. “My goal on stage is always to communicate what I want to say with the music as much as possible,” she said. She wants listeners to hear something fresh in a familiar score and to enter the world music can create; a place apart from ordinary life, made entirely of sound and feeling.

As TSO’s Artist-in-Residence, the relationship with Tucson will continue beyond the concerto. Olmeda will return in December for a special Up Close chamber concert for a program she selected herself, built around music she describes as intimate and designed to draw the audience inward. Among the works is Jessie Montgomery’s Musings for two violins, a piece Olmeda admires for its call-and-response energy with roots in folk songs and dances from Africa.

“Both violins are equal parts,” she said of Montgomery’s score. “We call and respond through the entire thing.” The program will also include Dvořák and a piano quartet she calls “gorgeous,” creating a different kind of encounter from the grandeur of Tchaikovsky: more conversational and rooted in collaboration.

That is what makes the residency meaningful she explains. Most guest artist engagements are brief: a rehearsal or two, a performance, and then departure. With the TSO, Olmeda will have the chance to return to reconnect with musicians and audiences. “I’m honored,” she said. “This is my first residency.”

Looking ahead, she is eager to keep expanding both repertoire and her perspective in approaching recital programming. She is preparing to perform the Sibelius Violin Concerto next spring for the first time, while keeping a focus on programs that include music by living composers and featuring composers of color. “I want to add more variety,” she said.

The future of classical music depends on that same spirit of openness she adds. When artists and conductors speak directly with the audience, and when institutions make the concert hall feel welcoming, the music becomes less distant and more immediate.

 “I love everyone who comes to the concerts,” she said. “I want to make sure they feel appreciated in being there.” For Olmeda, it’s not simply about arriving onstage ready to play; it is about creating a space where tradition, identity, curiosity and community can meet.

That makes her return to Tchaikovsky feel especially apt. The concerto may be familiar, but Olmeda approaches it as something still unfolding: a score shaped by history, sharpened by expectation and renewed each time an artist asks what they can bring to it. In Tucson, that question will continue first in the blaze of the concerto, followed by the intimacy of the chamber performance.