In this article, The Strad introduces "the stars of the next decade." Besides Lara, some of the other artists mentioned are: Ilya Gringolts, Jennifer Koh, Pekka Kuusisto, Alexander Sitkovetsky, Nokuthula Ngwenyama, Daniel Lee, and Alisa Weilerstein. This prestigious British magazine has long been among Lara's staunchest supporters. Here is what JH wrote in this issue: Lara St. John's debut recording of Bach won her numerous fans across the world, although the cover photograph of her wearing nothing but a violin inevitably caused controversy. An electrifying player, as deeply satisfying in Bach as she is bewitchingly seductive in Waxman's 'Carmen' Fantasy, St. John is something of a phenomenon. Born in Canada, she was touring in her early teens and subsequently studied at the Curtis Institute and the Guildhall in London. Her distinguished list of teachers includes Linda Cerone, David Takeno, Arnold Steinhardt, Felix Galimir and Joey Corpus. St. John possesses the rare ability to master a composition from every conceivable angle and then play it as though she were discovering its special qualities for the first time. In such pieces as Bach's wrist-crippling C major Fugue (Sonata No. 3), you can take technique and perfect intonation for granted, as she miraculously shapes the music with a natural spontaneity and sensitivity. Her two albums to date (solo Bach and Gypsy) are bona-fide classics of the violin discogarphy. In an earlier review in July 1999, The Strad gushed: This playing is deliriously over-the-top. Lara St. John has a stunning technique (you need it for the Waxman Carmen Fantasy in particular) and knows just how to use it for maximum effect. When the notes start teeming she simply puts her foot down on the accelerator and playes even faster; when the all-pervading gypsiness of this music turns inward and brooding, she does the whole Douglas Fairbanks bit: roguish, swaggering, irresistibly charming, it's all there and more. Make no mistake, this is high-voltage playing with a vegeance. Outbursts of blistering staccato are momentarily resolved in moments of quiet introspection (as the pianist Ilan Rechtman's Variations an Dark Eyes), only to set off even more breathlessly than before. Submitting Bartok's Second Rapsody to such a hair-raisingly technicolour treatment may well ruffle a few critical feathers. This is playing more redolent of the gypsy encampment than Carnegie Hall (albeit staggeringly accomplished) and I must say I enjoyed every minute of it. Rather than holding the music at arm's length, St. John digs deep and uncovers realms of expression that traditional readings barely hint at. Even the opening section of Sarasate's Zigeunerweisen comes electrifyingly alive - this is edge-of-the-seat playing that has you guessing at just what is going to happen next. Neither have I ever heard Ravel's Tzigane played with such uninhibited daring and electrifying intenstity. Not for the faint-hearted perhaps, but of its kind a sesational recital.