Appropriately in a week so dominated by football news, this was a concert of two halves. Arcadi Volodos's account of Brahms's second piano concerto before the interval was muscular and clinical, but disappointingly unengaging. The playing was rather in what could be dubbed the Evgeny Kissin mode – in other words technically flawless but self-absorbed and uncommunicative. There were some very striking episodes, most notably of all in the return to the main cello theme in the slow movement, out of which Volodos conjured an extended reverie. Yet, beautiful though this was, it typified an interpretation that dealt in look-at-me phrases rather than paragraphs, and Volodos's pianism conveyed little of the sense of structure and development that the work requires, especially in the opening movement and the finale.

It was evident even in the concerto, though, that Tugan Sokhiev and the Philharmonia were hitting it off together, with playing of rich immediacy and vivid colour. And Sokhiev's account of Shostakovich's eighth symphony, after the interval, was extremely fine indeed. From the word go, the Philharmonia gave Sokhiev everything he asked, from the visceral opening of the symphony in the lower strongs to the succession of varied and extended wind solos that are such a feature of Shostakovich's writing in this traumatic wartime work. Those for the cor anglais, the piccolo and the clarinet stood out powerfully.

Above all, Sokhiev's handling of the symphony achieved exactly what Volodos's playing of the concerto failed to do: to present a large and contoured work as something far more than the sum of its many parts. Sokhiev's musicianly qualities have always been obvious in his visits here, but this was the most impressive thing he has done in London. His work in the Brahms concerto suggests it is time to hear him outside the comfort zone of the Russian symphonic repertoire.