Libor Pesek has done more than anyone in recent years to bring lesser-known Czech works into mainstream repertoire, and the results have often been revelatory. On this occasion, though, neither Dvorak's overture Othello nor Novak's symphonic poem Toman and the Wood Nymph made much of an impact on either the audience or the orchestra.

Othello's epic, even melodramatic sweep seemed overworked rather than exciting. Volume levels were high, but there was no spark behind the playing. The same was true of Toman and the Wood Nymph, which, despite all its surface activity, continued in the same defiantly pedestrian mood.

The music is not without interest: there are intriguing echoes of Wagner's immolation scene from Götterdämmerung as the betrayed hero charges off into the forest to die (so we are told) in the arms of a woodland fairy. But, as with the Dvorak, its drama did not seem to be balanced by musical quality, and it somehow never really took flight.

To say that Pesek brings out the bohemian in Brahms is not to imply that everything he conducts ends up sounding Czech. It is simply that there really is a strong bohemian element in Brahms that is often drowned out by overdone solemnity and drawn-out tempos. Pesek did not linger over the middle movements as many conductors do; instead, he brought out their melodious, lilting qualities with an understanding and assurance that was a joy to watch as well as to hear.

If the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra had sounded lacklustre before, it now responded to Pesek with warmly nuanced playing and, in the outer movements, a muscular incisiveness. When Brahms sounds like this, it is easy to forget how elusive his magic can be. Very few conductors can capture it with Pesek's lightness of touch, or his assured grasp of its ebb and flow. Without sacrificing a single detail or glossing over any of its gentler corners, Pesek embraced Brahms's short, searching phrasing with a glorious, overarching sweep.