It was billed as the latest in Bernard Haitink's series of complete Beethoven symphonies with the London Symphony Orchestra, but the highlight of this concert was pianist Paul Lewis's performance of Beethoven's Emperor Concerto. So often this venerable warhorse is given tired, hackneyed performances, but Lewis gave the music a dynamic dimension. Instead of show-stopping strength, he created an intimacy in his partnership with the LSO players that revealed new sides to the piece. He made the first movement sound like a symphony for piano and orchestra rather than a competitive concerto, letting the wind players take over the argument in the music's softer central theme. At the end of the movement, a melody in the piano's highest register had all the delicacy of a music box, but there was brute power as well as imagination in the way he careered towards the movement's final bars.

Lewis's playing was a dramatic contrast with the strength and single-mindedness of the LSO and Haitink's conducting, but together, they turned the second movement into an exotic, otherworldly vision that magically evaporated in the transition to the finale. The wit and drama of this music was superbly realised by Lewis in playing of structural insight and intelligence. For years the most promising British pianist of his generation, Lewis is developing into a soloist of real stature.

There was nothing lacking with Haitink's performance of Beethoven's Fourth Symphony; it was just that next to the exalted standards of previous symphonies in the cycle, there wasn't the same level of insight or imagination. The Haitink trademarks of impregnable architectural integrity and massive sound were all there, but somehow it was only in the hurtling finale that the music really caught fire. Elsewhere, in the intricate first movement, or the ambiguous emotional landscape of the second movement - one of Beethoven's most difficult to pull off - Haitink sounded routine rather than revelatory.