IT was a night of brass. There were strings around too, and voices, but they played second fiddle.

For its annual end-of-year shindig, the university dusted off a piece of outdoor Berlioz, and followed up with Walton’s Crown Imperial overture and his mini-oratorio Belshazzar’s Feast. Brass figured mightily in all three.

Berlioz’s snappily titled Grande Symphonie Funèbre et Triomphale was originally conceived for military band, to which he later added strings and, finally, a brief chorus.

It is 20 minutes before the strings get a look-in, and even longer before the voices appear. In truth, the brass had such a head of steam by then that the rest were superfluous, the choir virtually undetectable. The protracted funereal pomp included a smooth trombone solo by Barry Webb. John Stringer kept the beat going.

Crown Imperial was the strings’ only chance of the night to shine and they took it well. Edwardian splendour reigned, now under Peter Seymour’s baton.

Belshazzar was the work that made Walton’s name, its forthright colours taking Leeds Town Hall by storm at its premiere in October 1931. The choir was at its best in the a cappella sections, which were notable oases of reflection.

Benedict Nelson’s grainy baritone solos were excellently projected and wasted not a word. But the choral sound lacked incisiveness, let alone anger, and the overall impact should have been a lot more terrifying. The magnificence was all in the brass.