The St Petersburg Philharmonic's visits to these shores are as brief as the Russian summer and as long in coming. Who, barely a year ago, would have anticipated that Yuri Temirkanov's world-class ensemble would play an exclusive, sold-out, three-day residence in Gateshead?

This was the first visit of an international orchestra to the Sage, and also the first time the chamber-sized platform had to swell to accommodate a symphonic lineup. Though clearly a bit of a squeeze, the hall's tight, singing acoustic coped admirably, saturating the audience with reverberant sound of almost physical immediacy.

The intimacy was further enhanced by the fact that there is probably no orchestra in the world so adept at playing barely above a whisper. The opening strains of Rachmaninov's Vocalise seemed not to begin on a downbeat so much as become delicately teased from the ether. And principal violinist Lev Klychkov's silky statement of the theme drew little gasps from the audience that were almost sufficient to drown it.

The benefit of such subtle, dynamic control is that the fortes strike with the force of an explosion. The concluding passages of Dmitri Alexeev's rampaging Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto no 2 rattled around the ribcage; while the rhythmic savagery of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring made the walls throb.

It is hard to pinpoint precisely what makes the St Petersburg Philharmonic so distinct from a European ensemble. It is partly to do with the instrumentalists' ability to merge into a fluid mass of energy, like a shoal of fish. Yet there is an intangible quality to the sound they make, particularly in the core Slavonic repertoire, which the Russians call dusha and we approximately term as soul.

The extraordinary Russian invasion of Gateshead gave Tynesiders an opportunity to experience some of the sweetest soul music ever made.