NZ Trio at University Music Theatre and NZSO at Auckland Town Hall

James Judd is the consummate showman.

The loyal audience for the New Zealand Trio on Thursday was amply rewarded. An early Beethoven Trio, neatly delivered, welcomed guests and the programme concluded with superlative Schumann.

Fascinating strands of colour were unravelled in the dense textures of Schumann's D minor Trio; the players unflinchingly confronted the occasional stolid rhythms and luxuriated in the lingering Langsam.

Alongside the ebbing rhapsodies of Toru Takemitsu's Between Tides, Gillian Whitehead's new Piano Trio was as fresh as a mountain spring.

Water images abounded. There were prismatic motifs, some echoing Bartok, fierce bird-call cadenzas and ruffled trills, while the strings coalesced in perfect accord over strummed piano chords.

There were more new commissions on Friday when the NZSO introduced Eve de Castro-Robinson's Releasing the Angel.

Conductor James Judd launched an explosive chord and we felt the harmonic bite of every clustering note.

Soloist David Chickering did all the composer asked of him and then some, eventually climbing up in Bergian thirds and leading the orchestra in an edgy dance.

De Castro-Robinson does moody and magnificent things with strings, but when the angel is finally released, all is delicatissimo: solo cello and bowed crystal glasses. 

There was angelic playing from Diana Doherty in Richard Strauss' Oboe Concerto. Though the NZSO strings could have danced a little more neatly around her, Doherty sailed on Strauss' endless stream of melody without a scuffle.

Finally, we had a taste of what London will be hearing on August 18 with Judd's well-oiled Sibelius Second Symphony. It's a smooth ride, with a Vivacissimo that could pick up a few speeding tickets.

Audience numbers were disappointing for Saturday's pairing of Tan Dun and Mahler. Alas, those handsome posters around town had not done their work.

Dun's Death and Fire is a latter-day Pictures at an Exhibition, a tribute to Paul Klee, demanding a virtuoso orchestra and conductor to match. Judd is the consummate showman, firing up his players from those first growlings of basses and cellos.

The paintings pass by with wailing, panting and outbursts, from musicians using both instruments and voices. Bach, intriguingly and intricately quoted, is the ultimate plea for spiritual harmony.

In our age besotted with easy multiculturalism, this is a fine specimen.

Helen Medlyn last performed Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde in 2000 with the Auckland Philharmonia. Five years on, singing out with little need of the score in front of her, she still waxes flamboyant when those riders come along, but there's a new mellowness. Images of cold wind and jade dust resonate; the dispassionate tone of Sprechstimme seems about to move in on the bleak landscape of Der Abschied.

Tenor Keith Lewis surges through his first song, riding the full orchestral fury behind him and revealing his musicianly attributes best in Von der Jugend.

In fine form and full force, the NZSO was the star of the evening. Judd the Mahlerian balanced irony and emotion with expertise, and the orchestra responded with more inspired solo playing than one could list in a review twice this length.