The New Zealand Symphony Orchestra at the Auckland Town Hall

By WILLIAM DART

A programme as sensitively designed as the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra's Friday concert is rare. Pleasingly, it was rewarded by punters queueing for returned tickets.

Penderecki's Threnody, on the Town Hall stage, was the full three-dimensional experience; powerful gestures seen as well as heard, from back-desk murmurs to Mexican waves of bows tapping on music-stands.

Vaughan Williams' Fifth Symphony was comparatively serene, although conductor Matthias Bamert lightened its pastoral ambience with some lilting cadences.

Sterner issues surfaced in a finely chiselled Scherzo, pizzicato strings being fired out of a trombone blaze at one point, while cor anglais and strings brought forth the most divine of raptures in the Romanza.

The generous Lynn Harrell offered both Bruch's Kol Nidrei and the Elgar Concerto. Though unflinching in its commitment, the Bruch was inevitably overshadowed by the Elgar.

Harrell took us on quite a journey from the ambling innocence of Elgar's opening theme to the almost unbearable poignancy of the final Lento.

The sheer force of his virtuosity in the Allegro was astonishing; the Finale at times came across like a young Shostakovich looking back at earlier times of pomp and circumstance.

Bamert's utter finesse and sure sense of style in this difficult work, and indeed, throughout both concerts, made it difficult to believe that he had replaced James Judd at such short notice.

Saturday's fare opened with a finely measured Drumroll Symphony. Laurence Reese made a timpani cadenza out of Haydn's opening bars, highlighting the orchestra's new Baroque timpani while guest concert master Martin Riseley offered an agreeable solo turn in the second movement.

There were new sounds, too. Anthony Young's Mamaku, the latest Lilburn Prize entry, showed an enviable range in its language, from complex textures and earth-shaking climaxes to a feeling for the simplest of percussive sonorities.

Schumann's Cello Concerto glowed in Harrell's interpretation, lingering over the luscious Langsam, dispensing the passagework with fire.

The cellist had spoken to me earlier of the difficulties of bringing out different lyrical aspects that may last less than a few seconds; the team of Harrell and Bamert managed it splendidly.

If there was a single highlight, it would have to have been Shostakovich's First Cello Concerto. Its heart-rending slow movement will be one of my most cherished memories. Harrell seemed to present a gallery of characters such was the variety of tone he could extract from his instrument while, behind him, Bamert inspired the orchestra to one of their most eloquent performances.

An encore of a Chopin Nocturne was unexpected and provocative. I went home and listened to some unaccompanied Bach with new ears.