Like Trooping the Colour or the Edinburgh Tattoo, the joyful pageant which is Messiaen's Turangalila-Symphonie has to be sampled at least once in a lifetime even if you exit screaming: "Never again!" Many do.

With its splashy tunes and gorgeous, exotic sonorities, this cataclysmic work perfectly fits the composer's description: a song of love. The Philharmonia, swollen to gargantuan size, gave a gripping account under Esa-Pekka Salonen, with excellent soloists Cynthia Millar (ondes Martenot) and pianist Pierre-Laurent Aimard playing from memory.

The percussion section commanded its army of cymbals, bells and wood blocks with precision. Dominating all was the tam-tam, propelling the entire orchestra to thunderous crescendos which, this being Messiaen, are habitually and abruptly silenced.

The type of piece audiophiles use to show off their loudspeakers, it also put the Festival Hall's new acoustic to the test. Not all was well.

Whatever tweaking was needed to accommodate last night's massive sound left the fine string section near inaudible. The ear-piercingly loud amplified instruments must have had those in the front row fearing for their ossicles.

Serge Koussevitksy, who commissioned the work, pleaded with his recalcitrant first audience in 1949: "I beg you, just listen." He would have been gratified to see a packed Festival Hall and to have heard the cheers.

• The Music Of Olivier Messiaen continues on Sunday (0871 663 2539).