Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra at Aotea Centre

The Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra rounded off its Vero Aotea series with a concert that had a title to live up to - A Matter of Life and Death.

It was an ambitious undertaking, especially in a series that has focused on shorter and less demanding repertoire.

Would the music measure up? And would performances have the required edge-of-the-precipice urgency?

MC George Henare dealt out cool, detached commentaries and introductions. Here was an actor who, a few decades back, was a blood-curdling Sweeney Todd at the Mercury Theatre.

Now, with a somewhat over-written script in hand, he seemed far too polite. Nevertheless, there were a few audible gasps when Rossen Milanov took the APO through the orchestral rapids of Strauss' Don Juan.

The Bulgarian conductor's flamboyant gestures and hyper-energetic baton secured a top-drawer performance. The strings in particular surged in all the right places, woodwind were pointed and crisp, the brass brought heft and solidity on demand.

Dukas' The Sorcerer's Apprentice had just the right edge to leave any thoughts of Disney's Fantasia firmly in the DVD case. Milanov was a model of precision, bringing out the essentially Gallic irony of the work.

After interval, Danse Macabre, Saint-Saens' elegant sortie into the symphonic salon, seemed routine after the passions of Strauss and dry-point etching of Dukas.

Nevertheless, the orchestra responded beautifully to Milanov's textural moulding and Dimitri Atanassov was a suitably seductive soloist.

The "Bacchanale" from the composer's Samson and Delilah was disappointingly tame. Programme notes may have led some to expect that this would "seduce with sheer sensual power".

I was untouched by its faded cuteness.

An immaculately nuanced account of Sibelius' Valse Triste benefited from the best string playing of the evening, with Milanov almost caressing the lines from the players.

Unfortunately the same composer's "Canzonetta" was embarrassingly marred by some bizarre and ragged dissonances in its opening phrases.

The Liebestod from Tristan and Isolde may have been a well-chosen finale but it would have worked better with a soprano soloist.

In the orchestral version, Wagner's all-encompassing emotions took too much time to gel, only really taking hold when the strings secured their lead.