Karol Szymanowski's Violin Concerto no. 1 defies conventional structural analysis: from its quirky opening of woodwind chirps over ostinato strings to its delicate, evanescent ending – followed by the shortest of little musical jokes – it's music that goes in all manner of directions, seemingly at the composer's whim. Yet there is magic at work: as you wander around this diverse musical landscape – sometimes briskly, more often meandering – you never feel in anything other than safe hands.
Especially, that is, if the hands are those of Nicola Benedetti, whose career took off as a result of a competition performance of this concerto, has recorded it and has performed it countless times since. What distinguished last night's performance was the utter purity of tone of her high notes and the scales and ornaments around them, starting from her very first notes rising from nothing over a background of harp and strings. It's not just that she is playing an intrinsically great-sounding Stradivarius, it's also that the timing and dynamic contour of every phrase is created with utter confidence. Even within a single held long note, her ability to give shape and progression to the sound was wonderful.
Our other guide on this occasion, conductor Krzysztof Urbanski, turned out to be equally reliable. When he's not making musical jokes, Szymanowski's music can get truly rhapsodic: there are passages of great sensuality, some of the composer's unique ability to create a wave of sound that breaks over you, and some imposing orchestral climaxes. Urbanski is very young (and looks even younger), but conducts with extreme precision, and the London Symphony Orchestra seemed to respond accurately to every nuance from his baton.
Brahms' Concerto has been described as a "concerto for Violin against orchestra": Szymanowski's is very much the opposite. Benedetti plays it that way, without excessive mannerisms, vibrato or attempt to grab the limelight – in fact, the one weakness of the performance was that lower register, heavily accented passages could have done with a bit more bite – she simply allows one to drink in the lyrical beauty of the music. Her encore was in similar vein: after a touching dedication, she was joined by three members of the LSO in a delicate rendering of the slow movement from Tartini's Concerto in A major.
The other pieces on the programme were both Russian and both very popular pieces. The curtain raiser was the overture to Glinka's Ruslan and Lyudmila. It's a rowdy, upbeat number by nature, and Urbanski took it at blistering pace, showing off quite how slick the LSO strings can be. I found myself glad that unlike opera singers, violinists don't need to breathe.