The weather outside was, as the song says, frightful but the concerts were indeed delightful, and the tenor in my life did Australia – and himself – proud in his Berlin Phil début, singing Das Lied von der Erde under the baton of no less a name than Sir Simon Rattle himself, with Anne Sofie von Otter doing alto soloist duty. Not too shabby, right?

Sydney audiences might remember Stuart singing Das Lied with the Sydney Symphony, Ashkenazy (my favourite musical pixie) and Lilli Paasikivi last year; you may even have bought the CD. I was there too, funnily enough. I’ve also heard him sing it since then in Salzburg and Hong Kong and I have to say – in the first concert with the Berlin Philharmonic he may just have outdone all of those performances. Hard for me to know, of course – I’m not exactly objective – but it was fairly sensational.

Interesting, too, because the Berlin Phil tunes slightly higher than most other orchestras, so that everything sits slightly less than a semitone above where it would usually be. And if you know Das Lied, you know that the tenor portion doesn’t really need to be any higher. But of course Our Hero sailed through it just the same, with, as the Potsdamer Neueste Nachrichten described it, “viel urwüchsiger Musikalität, aber auch mit wütend herausgebrüllten Spitzentönen.” The Berliner Zeitung agreed, and described him as “the true discovery of the evening”.

Even leaving personal connections aside, though, it was of course quite something to experience the Berlin Philharmonic in the flesh, and particularly in a concert like this. It was a double delight for me: not only did we have the Mahler, but the first half of the concert was the final scene of Janácek’s Cunning Little Vixen. With Gerald Finley. Baritone singing Janácek? Yes, please. I love Janácek, I love Gerry’s voice, and this was a gorgeous excerpt from an opera I don’t know nearly as well as I ought. We also had luxury casting in the other (tiny) roles: the soloists from Das Lied. Yes, there was Anne Sofie von Otter, singing the Inkeeper’s Wife and the Young Frog. Like I said: luxury.

Anne Sofie also did a lovely job with Das Lied. A slenderer voice than I’ve been accustomed to in this piece, but employed with such sensitive artistry. My heart, I suspect, will always belong, in the final reckoning, to Michelle DeYoung, but there’s room for others to share and it was great to hear Anne Sofie in person for the first time. More overwhelming still was the orchestra itself, particularly in the Mahler. I mean, it’s the Berlin Philharmonic, for crying out loud. The orchestra of Fürtwangler, Karajan and Abbado. Playing Mahler. It was glorious, and I had more than one “how-on-earth-did-I-get here” moment while listening to them.

I also enjoyed the adventures that come with a new orchestra, new venue, new city and so on. The Philharmonie is an odd building. Impressive, but odd: massive foyer, staircases everywhere, and in the auditorium, the stage itself is pretty much the lowest point, and surrounded seating blocks at all angles. It’s big, but I could never really tell how big, because I never had a seat which allowed a full view of the rest of the theatre. But the acoustic (to my non-audiophile ears) seemed pretty excellent and, courtesy of management (it pays to know people…) I had exceptionally good seats.

The biggest novelty for me, though, was the way the applause at the end happened. After a few fairly conventional curtain calls and ovations, things would seem to die down; but then, with a good 85-90% of the audience – and the orchestra – either gone or on its way out, the remaining few would keep clapping determinedly, for as long as it took to bring the artists out for yet another bow. On one occasion, it was one solitary gentleman who singlehandedly revived the applause. On two occasions, I actually missed the last bow, because it had seemed safe to leave. By the third concert (which, incidentally, earned not only a standing ovation but also, shock horror, a partial ovation after the first song) I knew better, and moved down to the front of the auditorium with the rest of the stalwarts and kept right on clapping. At last I understand those stories of ovations which last an hour.

That final concert – as you may in fact already know – was broadcast live around the world via the Berlin Phil’s Digital Concert Hall. Even better, having been broadcast, it will now remain in the archives indefinitely, for you to view at your leisure, should you so desire. Digital admission is, alas, not free; but it’s still much cheaper than an in-person visit.

Three concerts in four days and then it was all over, so we exchanged the cold and snow and Christmas markets of Berlin for the sun and palm trees of Orlando, where we’ll remain for the rest of the year. Next stop: Oviedo.

(See also: BBC Music Magazine did a nice little interview with Stuart ahead of his début.)