LET nobody accuse the National Capital Orchestra of being unadventurous in its programming – its  concert at Llewellyn Hall last night featured a newly-orchestrated work by a Canberra composer and two demanding works from the early 20th century repertoire, both of which, by no coincidence, finished in the optimistic key of C major.

First up was Canberra composer Sally Greenaway’s “Worlds within Worlds”, completely re-orchestrated after its premiere earlier this year in a chamber version for the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra’s 21st-Century Australian Composers program.

A lively sketch of city life inspired by both a famous installation of bird-houses in London and a whimsical mural in Canberra Hospital, this arrangement was a perfect fit for the orchestra, especially the impressive brass section. The composer’s ideas of conjuring up not only the bustle of the city but its seclusion and urban monotony were overwhelmed by the sheer joy of this performance – it was over much too soon. Might Greenaway not consider expanding on this theme?

Scriabin’s formidable symphonic poem, “The Poem of Ecstasy”, formed the centrepiece of the concert. Not only is this is disturbing work, as the composer plumbs the depths of despair and soars to the heights of inspiration, but it presents the  challenge of finding a musical equivalent for the poet/composer’s words such as “The universe is embraced in flames/spirit at the summit of its being, feels.”

The symbolic use of trumpets and flutes, the use of the clarinet to represent the Freudian Ego is matched by the composer’s vision of his  finale as the colour red. Conductor Leonard Weiss establishes himself as a conductor capable of firm  control as he held the disparate orchestral elements together in this work.

The lengthy conclusion to the evening, Josef Suk’s “Azrael Symphony”, is a work of tremendous variety. Characterised  by driving strings overlaid with dancing flutes, it is in part a eulogy to Suk’s teacher and father-in-law Antonín Dvo?ák and to  his wife Otilie, who died as he was composing the work.

With extravagant orchestration – Weiss must have  struggled  to find eight French horns for this work – it ranges from a ferocious first movement, through a second movement  full of great delicacy, surprises and near-silences to the two concluding adagios that raised the roof, subsiding to a lingering conclusion well-handled by the conductor. The orchestra and particularly the first violinist Therese McMahon, who spearheaded the relentlessly dynamic performances throughout, looked exhausted by the end.

This was a concert that made great demands on both performers and audience members, and Weiss should be applauded for looking outside standard favourites in  extending the NCO’s repertoire.