It seems lamentable that so many have witnessed Sir Andrew Davis' performances of Elgar's music only through the flummery of the televised final evening of the BBC Proms. In Friday's performance with his erstwhile ensemble the BBC Symphony Orchestra Davis presided over a reading of Elgar's First Symphony which thrust the other Elgar into the foreground; a sculptor of oft-troubled, Mahlerian symphonic textures rather than conceited, imperialist marches.

You can tell that Davis knows this ensemble well. Both in the Elgar and in Brahms' Violin Concerto that preceded it he pressed buttons that other conductors must spend a lifetime trying to find, achieving in the Brahms the sort of accompaniment that soloists must dream of - impressionable yet colourful, subservient yet assured. Atop this canvas violin soloist Leonidas Kavakos gifted a full-bodied and perfectly tuned performance, seizing upon the character of Brahms' work as if it were his own and yet demonstrating the humility of a performer years his junior. It's clear why this Greek violinist has made such a name for himself.

Opening at the Barbican Hall was refracted look at Bach's Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor for organ, arranged by Davis for large orchestra. But the whole band only sounded at the conclusion of the fugue, which was seen more as a continuation of one long crescendo initiated at the passacaglia than a separate extended cadence as it has been interpreted by organists. There were fascinating ideas in the orchestration, pitting staccato piano against cellos in the opening being one, but the crushing impact of Bach's awesome and inevitable harmonic progression was missing; its machinery sentimentalised by luscious strings.

After the break Davis's reading of Elgar's First Symphony demonstrated just what a loss this fine musician's sojourn to the United States has been for audiences in the UK. He remains Conductor Laureate of the BBC Symphony Orchestra, and there were clearly many fans amongst the audience who seemed almost to silently urge the musician on as he tugged and pushed at the tempos of the work - conjuring extraordinary moments which emerged from dynamic restraint like huge mammals from a brooding ocean. Under Davis's baton Elgar's opening extended theme seemed more personal than grandiose, unfolding as if for the first time towards a patiently controlled scherzo and a finale of searing intensity. A performance that will be remembered - let's just hope we can continue to do Elgar this sort of justice, and one day lose the pap.