Did absence from Albert’s colosseum from early September 2019 until now and a roof-raising finale hoodwink many of us into thinking Dalia Stasevska’s interpretation of Sibelius’s Second Symphony among the greats? Having listened to it again on the BBC Radio 3 iPlayer this morning, I'm convinced not; this was the real deal.

Without that guarantee, a BBC Symphony Orchestra on top form would not have entrusted its second Finn – Stasevska is its Principal Guest Conductor – with the music of a composer (their composer) its Chief Conductor Sakari Oramo has already presented with unsurpassable vividness. And this Sibelius Two was of equal energy, focus and fire, with a mind of its own, crowning a Proms quartet of opening-night works that fitted the bill to perfection.
You almost felt the Albert Hall should have been greeting us back in black and white for this year's Proms, like an audience returning after the Second World War. Many things were not quite the same: you ran the gamut of the exceedingly polite and welcoming folk at the doors asking to see your Covid vaccination certificate, masks were worn in seats, apparently optional – not the best of decisions when you’re located in batches all together – and while the platform was bigger, the Arena was much smaller, with what seemed like a smattering of Prommers around the big camera cordon. But the spirit was there at the start and so overwhelmingly at the final ovation. Elizabeth LlewellynIt was inspired to begin with soft levitational ecstasy rather than a fanfaring bang. Vaughan Williams’ Serenade to Music is one of those spiritual works which needs the Albert Hall halo around it; Stasevska made the BBCSO strings, on top form these days, glow and levitate supernaturally, capped by the beauty of leader Igor Yuzefovich’s secret raptures. Inevitably not that many of Shakespeare’s words from Act Five of The Merchant of Venice could be made out in the hall, but what impact from the 17 voices of the BBC Singers placed high behind the orchestra to the right, and what sounds from a quartet of soloists. Yes, it’s always impressive to hear the 16 singers Vaughan Williams requested, but nothing else was missed from this quartet of two established national treasures – soprano Elizabeth Llewellyn (pictured above) and tenor Allan Clayton, ringing out as ever in this space – and two younger artists, contralto Jess Dandy and bass-baritone Michael Mofidian.

They returned for the counterweight at the beginning of the second half (yes, we’re back to full programmes at the Proms). In When Soft Voices Die, a BBC co-commission shared with Help Musicians, the organisation which has done so much to help artists stay afloat in the last 16 months (keep on giving, please), James MacMillan reflects Vaughan Williams’ Shakespeare with settings of two poems by Shelley, moving upwards through the lower three voices in the evanescence of “The flower that smiles today” and moving on to the second poem, “Music, when soft voices die”, for affirmative ecstasy from the soprano, the quartet joining in the last quatrain. The shape is clear and well contrasted, with some anguish from the tenor, scalic calm from the contralto, but after the arresting opening murmurs of lower instruments, the work is pleasing but doesn’t seem to come from any deep place. Oddly, it was the most conventional piece of the evening’s four.

There’s no sense of placid familiarity with the mostly solemn strangeness of Poulenc’s Concerto for Organ, Strings and Timpani, offering its own form of neo-Baroque without ever sounding like pastiche. What better than the Albert Hall King of Instruments for the apocalyptic
summons, boldly mastered by Daniel Hyde? Stasevska managed to maintain string profile even in the most ethereal moments, and the challenge of togetherness with the soloist when the combined forces briefly romp was bracingly met.

Focus in big, sometimes muscly symphonic works isn’t easy in this notorious but so often rewarding acoustic. But the Stasevska impetus always held together. Her approach to Sibelius, on this evidence, is like Oramo’s: febrile, lithe and always moving forward – but it has its own brand of uplift; the feet rarely touch the ground. She always finesses details even in the haunting pizzicato of double-basses and cellos which launches the dark but noble mystery of a great and original slow movement; superb lugubrious and melancholy work here from bassoons and a very vocal first trumpet (Philip Cobb).

Ultimately, the mark of a great conductor is how much extra he or she can pull out of the bag on the night; we felt it as the mysterious processional of the finale rose and burned, and again the second round of victorious fanfaring, Stasevska somehow sending the final chord ricocheting out into space before the cheers began. Top business as usual has never seemed more special.

The first Prom to welcome an audience back into the Royal Albert Hall began with a work of low-key celebration, Vaughan Williams’s Serenade to Music. As its last chord died away, something else took its place: a collective silence, the kind that’s conjured when hundreds of people hold their breath, all listening intently to the same thing. This kind of delicious communal moment is what was missing last summer, when the Proms were performed with no audience in the hall.

Things aren’t quite back to normal yet. This season runs for six weeks, not eight. To make more room for distanced orchestral players, the stage has been expanded. And although seats are being sold with no social distancing and there’s the potential for audiences to reach something approaching 5,000, that wasn’t the case: the arena can’t have held more than 150 prommers standing, and anyone daunted by the idea of sitting up close to a stranger for two hours will have been reassured to see plenty of empty seats. But the audience was big enough to create a buzz. As the conductor Dalia Stasevska greeted the audience with a delighted wave, the mood was jubilant.

The Vaughan Williams, which sets lines from The Merchant of Venice, was the perfect opener for the occasion, its wistful melodiousness just joyous enough, and showcasing four distinctive soloists. The BBC Singers, high up in the choir stalls, added to the moonlit atmosphere with disembodied voices off that belonged more to The Tempest.

Poulenc’s Organ Concerto was the work that you won’t hear anywhere else – every good Proms programme has one. It’s a curious piece, gothic and severe one moment, delighting in souped-up harmonies the next. Daniel Hyde tamed the beast that is the Albert Hall’s 9,999-pipe organ, revelling in the instrument’s possibilities yet always in conversation with the BBC Symphony Orchestra’s strings.

All the best Proms also include something new, and here it was James MacMillan’s When Soft Voices Die, an almost-too-close companion to the Vaughan Williams. Michael Mofidian’s pitch-dark bass, Allan Clayton’s clarion tenor and Jess Dandy’s velvet mezzo-soprano all delivered Shelley’s words eloquently, but it was when Elizabeth Llewellyn’s soprano soared above the full orchestra that the piece really glowed. Finally, there was Sibelius’s Symphony No 2. Was it at times too breathlessly driven for this acoustic? Perhaps, yet on its own terms Stasevska’s pacing was masterly – a coiled spring of a performance to push the current uncertainties of the music world from our minds.