Roger Norrington began his concert with the London Philharmonic Orchestra (replacing the indisposed Kurt Masur) with Beethoven's Eighth Symphony. In ordinary hands, the Eighth would be a programme filler for the serious business of the Ninth that was to follow. But Norrington is never ordinary and, with the LPO basses posted high at the back of the band, the horns at one side and the trumpets on the other, he gave the most thrillingly original performance of the symphony imaginable.

Mastery of dynamics is an important key to Norrington's art, and under his direction the Eighth seemed to expand into something wilder and more daring than usual. Themes that can sound foursquare and camp under less imaginative conductors took wing. Details that are often imprisoned within traditional performances, such as the duet of horns in the third movement, became surprising moments of enormous virtuosity.

Norrington's brisk approach to the Ninth was more familiar. He can be disconcertingly quick and loud in the first and third movements, preferring to make his mark in the small things, not the big ones. He lets the overall effect take its shape from his attention to detail: a trumpet phrase differently accented in a prominent repeat, the extra loudness of the timpani in the scherzo, a thinner wisp of violin tone than usual in the slow movement.

The choral finale found Norrington at his best, though, inspiring the London Philharmonic Choir to exciting heights, and the LPO answering his every demand. The startling prominence of the cymbal accompaniment to the tenor solo, lustily sung by Stuart Neill, was revelatory. A Norrington concert is one of the most compelling experiences available in the concert hall, and it was extraordinary to think that on this occasion the great man was simply there as a stand-in.