Roberto Di Marino’s Concerto for Bandonion and String Orchestra is a compelling modern work that blends classical tradition with the expressive language of tango. Composed in 1997, the concerto was written for the Argentine-born, tango-rooted bandoneon (or bandonion, in its original German spelling)—an instrument central to South American musical identity and particularly emblematic of Argentine tango. By placing this intimate, reedy, and often melancholic instrument at the heart of a formal concerto, Di Marino pays homage to both the instrument’s folk roots and its increasing presence on the concert stage.

A native of Trento, Italy, Di Marino is known for his lyrical, accessible compositional style, and his ability to fuse genres without compromising artistic integrity. In this concerto, he writes in a tonal yet harmonically nuanced idiom, allowing the bandonion to converse fluently with the string orchestra. The result is a work that moves fluidly between tenderness, drama, and exuberance.

While exact movement titles or tempo markings are not widely published, the concerto follows a traditional three-movement arc. The first movement introduces the instrument’s soulful character against a richly textured string backdrop. Often introspective in tone, it gradually unfolds with emotional depth and rhythmic subtlety, as the bandonion introduces melodic fragments that evolve and build tension. Di Marino’s sensitivity to the instrument’s expressive potential is evident throughout, allowing moments of stillness and breath within a carefully shaped narrative.

The second movement serves as the emotional core of the work. Typically slower and more lyrical, it explores the darker hues of the bandonion’s voice, evoking a kind of chamber-like intimacy. Here, one may hear echoes of tango’s melancholic essence—nostalgia, longing, and inward reflection—all underscored by Di Marino’s elegant string writing. The interplay between soloist and ensemble in this movement suggests a dialogue more than a confrontation, offering poignant moments of restraint and release.

The final movement breaks forth with rhythmic vitality, driving forward with syncopated patterns and brilliant bursts of energy. Echoes of the dance hall, filtered through the concert stage, appear in virtuosic flourishes and tight, propulsive exchanges between the soloist and strings. But this is no mere pastiche of tango. Di Marino maintains a refined compositional voice throughout, allowing the folk elements to animate a musical structure that remains firmly rooted in classical form.

In crafting this concerto, Di Marino joins a growing number of composers who have embraced the bandonion as a legitimate solo voice in contemporary classical music—following in the footsteps of Ástor Piazzolla and Luis Bacalov, among others. His concerto is not only a vehicle for showcasing the instrument’s astonishing expressive range but also a cross-cultural exploration, bridging European compositional tradition with Latin American soul.

Whether performed by an Argentine tango master or a contemporary bandonion virtuoso, the work leaves a lasting impression: it is by turns lyrical and dramatic, intimate and grand, rooted in tradition yet unmistakably modern.