Some works come around again and again in the same combinations. But Antonio Pappano's programme for the London Symphony Orchestra last night was not a well tested formula; in fact I doubt very much whether the three pieces involved, by Copland, Prokofiev and Ravel, had ever been heard in the same concert before.
Whether it worked as a programme, had that elusive complementarity in which each piece refracts the others, is a different matter. But it is hard to know what would sit alongside Prokofiev's Symphony Concerto, his 1953 reworking for Rostropovich of a much criticised pre-war Cello Concerto.
Even by that composer's vastly variable standards, it is an unsatisfactory work, over-long and short on memorable ideas: even the best tune, which forms an oasis of calm in the centre of the violent second-movement scherzo, is treated with unbelievable triteness when brought back towards the end of the movement.
At least it gave the LSO an opportunity to start revving up for its celebrations of Rostropovich's 75th birthday later in the month, and a chance to hear one of the great cellist's latest protegés, Han-Na Chang. She was secure in what is a hugely draining solo part; but it remains to be seen whether she has the musical character to go with her technique when she plays a more rewarding concerto.
Pappano certainly ensured that Prokofiev's orchestration made its point too, grotesqueries and all. The LSO respond well to him - the strings had provided a perfectly refined featherbed of tone to cushion the nostalgic trumpet and cor anglais solos in Copland's Quiet City, and went into extrovert overdrive for Ravel's complete Daphnis et Chloé ballet.
Pappano certainly seemed determined to emphasise the symphonic aspects of this symphonie choréographique, giving the opening the numinous gravity of Bruckner, but he was equally happy to point up its theatrical aspects too.
Some phrasing would have been mighty hard to dance to, but there was no mistaking the physical impact of the final danse genérale, building wave upon wave, with the LSO Chorus oohing and aahing in all the right places.
