Pairing early Mozart and blockbuster Mahler on a stage unmistakeably dominated by male musicians, the second instalment of the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra’s two-concert Barbican residency was untouched by its coincidence with International Women’s Day. Presumably there are complex reasons why female musicians remain such a minority in this orchestra. In that of all contexts, novelty programming as an annual exception would do little to improve matters.

So it was business as usual – and a reminder of just how good that can sound from the ensemble named Orchestra of the Year at last year’s Gramophone Awards, under its chief conductor Semyon Bychkov.

In the first half, a small subset of the orchestra huddled around two grand pianos: tone mellow, articulation neat, atmosphere all gently airborne elegance. Mozart wrote his Concerto for Two Pianos in his early 20s to play with his keyboard-virtuoso sister Nannerl. Played by the Labèque sisters (self-described “sibling pianists” and energetic advocates of modern two-piano repertory) the concerto seemed ultimately to showcase one uncannily composite soloist. Its trials-by-passagework – fistfuls of notes to execute in unison! Fiendish corners to turn in parallel! Pass a phrase seamlessly backwards and forwards! – were dispatched with almost unbelievable ease, only the occasional fleeting smudge giving the game away.

After the interval the orchestra was an entirely different animal: gargantuan and prepared to let rip in Mahler’s Fifth Symphony. The opening trumpet solo was clipped – almost brutally so – its dotted rhythm hyper-military. Double bass pizzicatos and timpani strikes landed with a dull thud. Fortissimo passages came dense and heavyweight, the quietest string moments in the Scherzo cashmere-soft. The Adagietto emerged from little more than a gentle shimmer, blooming into irresistibly heartfelt (if not entirely coordinated) lyricism; the finale was luminous at times, near-grotesque at others, its apotheosis magnificently, fearlessly intense. All the while, Bychkov’s baton put in the miles, gathering the orchestra through the work’s numerous shifts of tempo as if preparing to hurl a lasso. Physically lurching from side to side through Mahler’s quicksilver changes of mood, Bychkov led violent, virtuosic switch-backs, the symphony’s internal tensions bared for all to hear.