This was the second of a short series of concerts that placed music by Sergei Prokofiev alongside that of his under-valued French contemporary Albert Roussel. Vladimir Ashkenazy is one of a growing number of conductors to have become aware of Roussel's stature and importance of late, and the juxtaposition with Prokofiev proved immensely telling. Both take Stravinskyan neo-classicism and rhythmic propulsion as a point of departure, though the pointillist detail one finds in Roussel sharply contrasts with Prokofiev's broader, more overtly melodic approach.

Roussel was represented by the First Suite from the ballet Bacchus et Ariane, Prokofiev by the Third Piano Concerto and the Sixth Symphony. Evgeny Kissin was the soloist in the concerto, which suits him rather well. The piano writing allows him to exploit the strongly percussive quality of his style while reining in the hammering monumentality that sometimes burdens his playing. The first movement scampered, while the second progressed gradually from sardonic cool to violence. That the big climax of the finale sounded blowsy was ultimately Prokofiev's responsibility rather than Kissin's.

Written in the aftermath of the second world war, the Sixth Symphony, meanwhile, has claims to being the bleakest of Prokofiev's major scores, and Ashkenazy's performance was a thing of rending dissonances and harsh laughter that seemed to stare into the abysses left by trauma. The weight of the Philharmonia sound, so apt for this work, was less appropriate when it came to Bacchus et Ariane, however. Ashkenazy's way with the restless, sexy energy of Roussel's music is perceptive and dynamic, but the orchestral textures were at once too thick and too smooth, with some of the detail swallowed by the lushness of it all. Roussel needs a bit more overt brilliance than we experienced on this occasion.