Stepping out on to the platform of Manchester’s Stoller Hall, it was clear there was a real excitement between Martin Owen and Gábor Takács-Nagy. Owen especially had a real spring to his step, and it was clear from the buzz with the Manchester Camerata this was going to be a distinctive concert. Addressing the audience Owen spoke with such passion about Mozart's horn concertos, describing them as “having so much comedy” and how Mozart experimented with the music, two views he fulfilled in his renditions.

The Allegro orchestral tutti opening the Horn Concerto no. 3 in E flat major had richness and sonority from the strings; when Owen entered he made the same theme sound more lyrical, creating contrast. The balance between the small body of strings and the soloist was proportionate and judicious, working well with the hall’s clear acoustic. Owen made his playing look effortless, but his technical assurance iwas phenomenally impressive, giving phrases space, but the pauses separating them created an anticipation, fuelling the already electric excitement. The central Romance — Larghetto followed, the balance creating a beautifully expressive performance. In the concluding Allegro, there was a sense of fun in the dialogue between the orchestra and soloist, volleying a musical tennis ball back and forth.
The more popular Horn Concerto no. 4 (also in E flat) followed. Here was a grander sound, instantly setting the tone that this was a substantially bigger work, both musically and expressively. One knew from the way in which Takács-Nagy handled the themes there was much more architecture and structure to this concerto. Across the two outer movements, neither Takács-Nagy nor Owen were afraid to offer momentum but, at times, were also unafraid to use some diligently chosen rubato, which may not be what one expects in music of this period, but it was used to great effect. The performers sought every ounce of humour and explored the expressive possibilities of these jaunty and witty concertos to bring something fresh, brimming with vitality in performances that were highly personal but extremely communicative.
After the interval Beethoven’s joyous Seventh Symphony. It was a brave choice to have only 24 string players, which seemed to have both pros and cons, while allowing the woodwinds to sound more prominent, emphasising the interplay between sections. It did reduce the variety of colours available though, an issue that dominated the first movement and the opening of the second. Takács-Nagy took Beethoven’s makings literally. Beginning with Poco sostenuto, it certainly had motion, while the Vivace was sprightly. The Allegretto was brisk, which gave way to a furiously driven Presto third movement, before a hair-raisingly manic Allegro con brio, driven relentlessly hard. There were occasional blemishes, but one couldn’t escape the performance's vivacity as it was pushed to its limits. While the roller coaster performance was gripping, it stayed just inside the safety barriers, keeping one on the edge of one’s seat; thankfully the carriages stayed on track to the end which brought a roar from the audience when the proverbial safety belts were unlocked.