Last night Vladimir Jurowski found something he’s been worryingly lacking. This time last year he opened the London Philharmonic Orchestra’s season with Mahler’s Second Symphony, and however hard Jurowski fans tried to respond to any sense of spirituality in the Royal Festival Hall, there wasn’t much of it to latch on to. Mahler’s Resurrection was as satisfyingly attractive as the upward trajectory of the new RFH lift.

As the LPO continues to issue archive recordings from the ‘80s and ‘90s of Mahler symphonies conducted by Klaus Tennstedt (see a recent article by Michael McManus), the differences between its Mahler performances ‘then’ and ‘now’ have been thrown into sharp contrast: Tennstedt all emotional extremes, living through the music, writhing in it; Jurowski finding new textures and narratives, but somehow handling it at arms length and appearing distinctly un-emotional on the podium. 

At last night’s season opening Jurowski took himself on a journey – and his orchestra appeared spontaneously surprised and delighted. Zemlinsky’s Six Maeterlinck Songs were breathtakingly well-crafted by the conductor and decently sung by Petra Lang, but it was in Mahler’s Third Symphony that the rules changed. It began with all those Jurowski hallmarks: impeccable ensemble, fascinating nuances in speed and dynamic, and a seemingly new-minted ‘metallic’ quality to the orchestral textures.

So far, so standoffishly interesting. But as the symphony progressed, Jurowski explored emotional reservoirs he’s rarely dipped into before. In the Third’s slow finale, all that precise pacing and careful balance met with a near-overwhelming sense of release. Call it indulgent, but Jurowski did something I’ve never seen him do before: he began, Tennstedt-like, to live in the music. At one point he appeared to turn an ear towards the expectant audience, as if to emphasise the dialogue.

Rumour has it Jurowski was unwell yesterday. Furthermore, there were some wobbles and miscues during some of the sparse central passages of the first movement – the sort that this orchestra is technically far above and yet unfailingly conjures in concert. Did these palpable struggles help create a feeling of release in Jurowski – the redemption Mahler himself strived for? At ninety minutes, Jurowski’s not conducted a piece of this depth and scale in concert with the LPO before, while he’s made an awful lot of marginally less weighty works seem easy – too easy.

It’s only because Jurowski is so technically capable, intellectually rigorous and stringently self-disciplined that his behaviour last night proved so interesting. I’ve watched since 2005 – the year he effectively (if unofficially) became the LPO’s Principal Conductor – as he’s built fascinating programmes and honed a technique that’s surely unique in the world. But I’ve also waited – in everything from Beethoven to Suk – for him to present a symphonic narrative that’s not just convincing, but is also wholly emotionally engaging. He delivered last night. It might not have been quite like Tennstedt – it was probably a whole lot neater in fact – but it had a pile-driving effect on my emotions nonetheless.