The New Zealand Symphony Orchestra at Auckland Town Hall

Reviewed by WILLIAM DART

Last weekend, the NZSO lived up to the title of its 2004 series and did play up a storm.

Thunderclaps of applause greeted soprano Margaret Medlyn when she made her Friday night entrance in a diva-dress best described as Pacific Tudor fusion.

The statuesque Medlyn offered rare insights into Strauss' Four Last Songs. In full voice, with a top register that had little Viennese cream in it and a lower range that capitalised on her mezzo past, this was no exercise in easy elegiac.

Summer did smile in "September" and we felt the real weight of solitude in "Im Abendrot". Medlyn seemed to live every note of Vesa-Matti Leppanen's lingering violin solos and, at the end, held the audience silent for 10 seconds until two minutes of rapturous applause broke forth.

James Judd worked a miracle with the elusive canvas of Mahler's Seventh Symphony. The two fragmented outer movements, which sometimes come across as more collage than symphony, had logic, compulsion and well-drilled playing. His awareness of formal issues was echoed in his attention to textural clarity, especially in the second Nachtmusik movement, struggling against some noisy fundamentalist rally feeding in from Aotea Square.

God was on our side when it came to climaxes, however, the best of which, laced with jangling cowbells, could have drowned out everything this side of a nuclear explosion.

Encores weren't on the bill on Friday but on Saturday, generosity was the order of the evening with three "freebies". Or so pianist Stephen Gosling described John Psathas' Fragment, a tremulous duo with vibes-man Jeremy Fitzsimons.

Gosling and orchestra had just had an Olympic-style workout in Psathas' new Piano Concerto, wrenching the massive, dark-hued first movement out of its rock and making it swing. The slow movement was all hushed intensity and inexorable chords; elusive on paper, and seductive to the ear, with spidery piano lines, glimmering percussion and slow-gliss strings, beautifully marshalled by Judd.

Gosling threw himself into the Finale with enthusiasm and the requisite expertise in articulation. On the orchestral side, col legno writing which seemed eccentric in Mahler's Seventh, was now just part of the armament. For me, the highlight was watching the players poised through Gosling's last solo, steeling themselves for the final rousing fray.

Alas, Grieg's Peer Gynt Suite was a come-down, with rough violins dampening Anitra's dance and the trolls taking far too long to get their tune going. The second "freebie" (or "Brief Encounter" as Judd described it) was two of Stravinsky's Norwegian Moods. These were great stuff - why couldn't the whole set have deputised for the Grieg?

Brahms' Third Symphony showed Judd at his galvanising best, driving the first movement along, marred only by a distinct edge to the violins. A Finale that let Brahms rumble and grumble with authority atoned for occasional signs of rushed preparation, such as the woodwind balance in the Andante.

The third "freebie" had the violins on their feet, leading the orchestra in a Brahms Hungarian Dance; a shrewd crowd-pleaser. If only John Psathas had been able to add an obbligato for Gosling ...