National Symphony Orchestra of Ukraine

I have to be honest here. I love the experience of a full symphony orchestra, the collective sound of eighty-plus musicians working as one, all under the direction of a conductor whose every move and gesture crafts and shapes the sounds that we hear. It is a rare treat to be able to indulge that passion in Norwich, where we lack the indulgence of a purpose-built concert hall. True, we have St Andrews Hall, (and the Norfolk & Norwich Festival have brought some wonderful orchestras there), but I do not remember ever being treated to a full orchestral concert at Norwich's Theatre Royal.

Hardly surpising, therefore, that I was more than a little excited as I headed into Norwich last night for the final date of the National Symphony Orchestra of Ukraine's 17-date UK tour, their first full touring visit to this country in over twenty years. Led by conductor Volodymyr Sienko, the 98-strong NSOU has earned a reputation of being one of the finest symphony orchestras in Eastern Europe.

Only as I approached the theatre, lit up in the Ukrainian colours of yellow and blue, did I begin to appreciate the real significance of this concert – Norwich (a designated City of Sanctuary), and Norwich Theatre Royal (one of a collective of 34 Theatres of Sanctuary), hosting the NSOU, and, in so doing, recognising their brave and bold act of cultural expression and defiance.

With the sight and sound of Bonfire Night fireworks exploding in the skies above me, the evening suddenly assumed a strange, almost surreal, dimension. Once inside the auditorium, it became clear that, in addition to the VIP guests and local dignitaries in the audience, there were also many native displaced Ukrainians. During the introductory welcome by Norwich Theatre's CEO and Creative Director, Stephen Crocker, and speeches from Michael Clive Newey (outgoing Chair of the theatre trustees) and Lady Dannatt (Lord Lieutenant of Norfolk), the enormity and significance of this concert suddenly sank home, and I felt guilty for simply being free to come along and listen to this great classical music.

However, music was what I was here for, and music is what I got. The first part of the programme began with a rich and lively romp through Richard Strauss' tone poem 'Don Juan', enhanced by the sweetness of the violin solo from concertmaster Maksym Grinchenko, as well as the warmth of the oboe and clarinet interjections. It was followed by Beethoven's Piano Concerto No 4, widely regarded as one of the greatest piano concertos in the orchestral repertoire, and made even more special by the virtuosic playing of pianist Antonii Baryshevski. It was a performance filled with delicacy, lightness and precision. Baryshevski's own cadenza-like improvisations deservedly earned an encore – a short jazz-like composition from him, containing shades of both Gershwin and Copeland, and entitled 'Toccata'.

With the Steinway concert grand piano safely removed from the stage, the second half of the concert began with 'Finlandia', the short symphonic tone poem written by Sibelius in 1899 as a covert protest against cultural censorship by the Russian Empire, and which itself was often renamed to avoid its own redaction. But the real 'pièce de résistance' of the evening was saved for last - a blisteringly emotional performance of Boris Lyatoshynsky's 'Symphony No 2', written in 1935 and revised in 1940, but still criticised and banned in Russia for not complying with their doctrines of 'Socialist Realism'.