Hallé Orchestra / Kristjan Jarvi, Bridgewater Hall Manchester

Colin Matthews is halfway through his creation of orchestral arrangements of Debussy's 24 piano preludes. Each batch throws up yet more Impressionistic colour in its crystalline textures and subtle evocation of these miniatures. The latest group has a Spanish flavour, and in La Puerta del Vino and La Sérénade Interrompue Matthews has a lot of fun with drum flourishes, stealthy tambourine shakes, discreet castanet clacks and poetic woodwind solos. With his customary refinement, Matthews draws you in and envelops you in the preludes' charm, while adding a valuable extra dimension.

Slightly sinister wind footsteps, with strings trudging behind and a saxophone slither- ing alongside, characterise the chilly Des pas sur la Neige. The orchestra takes off with grace and nimbleness in Les fées sont d'exquises danseuses, these ethereal creatures' sprightly dance echoing airily round. The Hallé's account was not only affectionate but also distinguished by such precise accentuation and articulation that one longed for there to be a recording of the orchestrated preludes.

The concert began with Milhaud's jazzy evocation of earth stirring to life, La Création du Monde. Kristjan Jarvi conducted a reduced band, with Brandon Marsalis on alto saxophone. Not surprisingly, given Järvi's reputation in the rock and contemporary music world, the score's jazz fugue was played with startlingly realistic urgency, though the sensual aspects of the work were saved until the "Dance of Desire". This bold, bluesy mating game sounded, if not exactly improvised, then at least refreshingly liberated. Milhaud would not have been disappointed by Marsalis's expressive account of the haunting main tune.

Debussy didn't much like the saxophone but when he eventually squeezed out a sketch for the Rhapsody, commissioned by an American woman, he seems to have dried up. This rather melancholy work was left incomplete and the version Marsalis imposed on this performance was a curious mixture of editions. (Perhaps Matthews could apply his skill at getting inside Debussy's head to give this work new life?) Marsalis did, however, convey the lilt and fantasy of this orientally inspired work, his bittersweet tone capturing something of its elusive, cool centre.

For an encore, he chose not to show off his phenomenal technique by launching into a hot jazz number but, sensitively accompanied at the piano by Janet Simpson, took over the vocal line of Schubert's Du bist die Ruh, all three verses, played quite straight. It was a most peculiar choice, resembling an exercise designed to show control of legato line in an Associated Board Grade V exam.

That Rachmaninov's First Symphony made an impression that I'd rather forget may have as much to do with the young Rachmaninov's inexperience as Jarvi's decision to play it for all its vulgar worth. I'm with Rimsky-Korsakov, who said: "Forgive me, but I do not find this music at all agreeable."