This extra edge of risk-taking can make imperfectly executed performances sound exciting - and that is good enough music in many cases. Who cares about a few wrong notes when the rest are so zestful? Lalo's two-movement Norwegian Rhapsody also featured some furious stringwork and percussion in the second movement. Here, the heroes of the night must have been the four trumpeteers, whose war-like barrages were as arresting as they were a marvel of execution (but if they played any wrong notes, I would be the last to know).

Throughout the night, orchestral ensemble as whole was not perfect, but there were many examples of precision-playing within sections. Examples include the motoric staccato passage for winds in the second movement of the Borodin, and the strings for their recurring two-note figure, forte, in the Lalo.

Three cheers to the cello section - whether swaying to their Romantic theme in the middle of Grieg's "Arab Dance", or the other in the first movement of Borodin's Second Symphony, they were very... soothing to watch. This section has (also) been playing musical chairs among themselves, and it seems the position of Principal Cello is still being, er, "acted" rather than realised. I take this opportunity to single out Yu Jing, who has been, shall we say, progressing up the ranks. She caught my attention much of the time, for she had an easy confidence and unforced technique that was very pleasant to watch (rather more interesting to follow than the Acting Principal, who has only lately begun showing facial expressions...). I say, do we have a new candidate here?

Compliments to the entire horn section, with an extra salute to their principal - the solos were luscious and secure throughout the entire concert. Han Chang Chou's "Morning Mood" was smooth and serene, likewise the solo in the Andante of the Borodin.

The programme notes rather audaciously call Borodin's Symphony No.2 "one of the finest Russian symphonies ever written." Er, in the light of Tchaikovsky, Shostakovich and even Stravinsky, I'm very not sure. But the SSO did win my admiration in the name of Borodin. The opening movement's signature theme, which I've always found overcooked and underdeveloped, was taken through a heavy and thick reading, treading with giant Russian footsteps. The Scherzo, rather Tchaikovskian in some of its writing, was read with the scherzo element somewhat de-emphasised. Nevertheless, the detail with which the SSO drew testified to their attentive reading.

In the third movement Andante, the Orchestra swept up a very thick soundscape, immediately reminding me of their recent performance of the Shostakovich Tenth (reviewed here. This, despite a certain cloudiness, was quite appropriate to the lugubriousness of the music. Ultimately the reading was focussed, strong, and brought out the heroism the notes mention. This confidence continued into the Prince Igor-ish finale, and much to my chagrin (since I've never liked this work), all ended very magnificently. Choo Hoey (right), looking pleasantly surprised and with relief at the successful concert, received the enthusiastic applause gladly. The clapping intensified as attention focused on him.

The notes also call the quintet of Mussorgsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, Balakirev, Borodin and Cui as "The Fire" [sic]. Excuse me, but it's "The Five", "The Mighty Handful" or "The Mighty Five". I think it's important to remark that notes should be thoroughly proof-read because misleading newbies is a very damaging act.

I've left the best for last. What an utter delight was this combination of the charming Norwegian soprano Bodil Arnesen and the music of one of Norway's most distinguished composers, Ludvig Irgens-Jensens (1894-1969). Having only heard (and reviewed) the composer's Nationalist oratorio Heimferd ("Coming Home"), I had little idea how his Japanese Spring (one of his noted works) would sound like other than the evocative (but predictable) presence of the celesta and harp on stage.

Described in the notes (by a Dr. Dag Schjelderup-Ebbe) as influenced by Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde, it does have its "oriental" tendencies. Written as a lieder cycle in 1918-19, Irgens-Jensens (or just Jensens) prepared the orchestral version in 1957. His orchestration is succinct and never over-indulgent, colouring with distinctiveness, but not descending into empty colour. I think this is the way the Japanese would have liked things. But even better, the word-setting is distinguished - the nine individual songs generally involve long orchestral (or part of) preludes and postludes, with a concentrated central peak of utterance where the singer surfaces to deliver the poignantly concise, haiku-like (is it haiku? The text comprises German translations) poetry.

Soprano Bodil Arnesen (right), looking svelte and confident in her figure-hugging black gown which only highlighted her blonde hair, cast her spell on the audience in each and every one of her songs. Her voice, of which she is its total mistress, easily projected and penetrated the air. Ranging from her chest through her head, she could without effort direct its shape according to the words. In the third song, "Der Welde im Wind" (roughly, "The Willows in the Wind"), celesta, flute and harp match her bright rounded tone. The gorgeous words, of which the notes only synopsise as "[t]he singer likens her beloved to a slender willow whose feet are being caressed by the enamoured wind", are not only sung with penetrating beauty, but Arnesen's vocal touch turns every pronounced word into aural jewels.

Her perfectly placed vibrato, which is itself a device she has complete expressive control, is a feature in her Grieg recital on Naxos. I was totally fascinated to see it 'live' in action, as well as her consummate skill in holding notes - there was absolute not a fault to her final long note in this movement.