Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra at the Auckland Town Hall

John Psathas

This was the concert that Auckland had been waiting for: Our first opportunity to experience the form and style that has taken John Psathas' music to the stadiums and arenas of the world.

In 2002, the Wellington composer's View from Olympus was part of the Grand Finale offerings for the Manchester Commonwealth Games.

In Auckland on Thursday night, it was the blistering centrepiece of the Auckland Philharmonia's concert.

Conductor Marc Taddei and the orchestra primed us well with a glittering account of Stravinsky's Song of the Nightingale. Taddei illuminated every zig-zag trajectory and rippling wash of sound. Even with the orchestra trapped behind ranks of percussion and piano, waiting for Psathas' Olympian visions, Stravinsky's magic seemed undimmable.

Taddei ensured, too, that finesse was not forgotten when sparkling colours suffused the smaller-scale passages.

The combination of pianist Michael Houstoun and percussionist Lenny Sakofsky in View from Olympus was wildfire, appropriately fanned by Taddei and fuelled by the orchestra.

For much of the time, adrenalin positively gushed, even if the exotic perpetuum mobile passages tended to lose some of their intrigue by the final movement.

Houstoun showed his usual unruffled mastery; Sakofsky caught the eye with his array of exotic instruments and frequent journeys around the stage.

This man is expert with every mallet and drumstick imaginable, yet eyes and ears were most beguiled in a extended wind-chimes sequence introducing the more reflective second movement.

After interval, Manuel De Falla's Nights in the Gardens of Spain seemed to echo moments of the Psathas that we had heard, especially when Houstoun's lines were finely silhouetted against the shifting orchestral textures.

It was a performance that both acknowledged the piece's nobility and understood its mysteries.

The evening ended with a no-holds-barred Bolero. Taddei set off on Ravel's score as if he were letting us into a secret, inexorably building up the tension over a subtle side drum played by the indefatigable Sakofsky, concealed among the strings.

There was untidiness here and there, although the trumpets made a feast of their mariachi minimalism and Taddei brought the work to the explosive conclusion that the capacity audience expected.