Waiting for a plane has rarely been an amusing, surprising and enjoyable experience - unless a girl takes a flute out of her hand luggage and starts playing Ravel's Bolero. Ignore it, perhaps, but then a man going by pulls a clarinet out of his case and joins in. And then one notices the tapping sounds emerging from the soporific airport buzz. A bloke wheels up a drum on a trolley. Before people know it, they're witnessing a full-blown performance of Torvill and Dean's signature tune played by the Royal Scottish National Orchestra in front of their startled eyes.

If much of the Austro-German repertoire is about hiking to a spiritual peak, the Franco-Spanish is about diving down to the orchestral depths. The music of Ravel, Debussy and Falla has beefy shoulders and powerful legs. But the vast watery expanse of the Royal Albert Hall is hard-going even for these expert paddlers. I've never seen anything by these composers that hasn't drowned in this space. So I came to last night's concert hoping that the BBC Philharmonic's new Spanish conductor, Juanjo Mena (he takes over officially next season), would show us all how to ride out these waters.

This month, we’ve some virtuoso pianola, Bruckner and Chopin get downsized, and there’s some full-fat Mahler. Rare American orchestral works rub shoulders with Mozart, and a Russian conductor gives his final performance. A British pianist tackles Ravel, and a Danish accordion player seeks Slavic inspiration. Brass players from San Francisco take on contemporary music, and Trio Mediaeval revive 13th-century polyphony from Worcester. And a young Norwegian brings Grieg to vivid life.

First, an admission. I have a blindspot for the chamber work of Fauré, Saint-Saëns and Ravel. I've tried my best, acquainted myself with the most stirring recordings of the finest pieces, got friends to hold my hand. But I've never been able to shake off the feeling that this French trio are mostly a bit drippy in this repertoire, a bit Watercolour Challenge, a bit I-eat-yoghurt-vote-Lib-Dem-and-faint-a-lot, engaging neither in psychology nor dazzle, all simply treading water. So last night was laser-eye-treatment time. If Steven Isserlis and his clever colleagues couldn't banish my blindness at their Wigmore Hall recital, no one could.

The ballet world knows uniquely well how to stage gracious gestures to one of its own - dance history is close-knit and last night the Royal Ballet’s first mixed bill of the season turned into a surprising celebration of the Cuban ballerina Alicia Alonso in her 90th year. Even more of a stunner to see Alonso herself sitting in the Royal Box, and coming on stage at the end to a standing ovation, tiny, chalk-white, red-lipped, with black glasses over her blind eyes, giving a remarkably deep curtsey for someone of 89.

Will the real Rodion Shchedrin please stand up? At 77, the man himself still can, unlike fellow Russians Shostakovich and Schnittke into whose much larger shoes some think him worthy to step, and he stood last night both to take his own bow and for Valery Gergiev's compelling Musorgsky-Ravel. His music, though, can lie prone under the weight of its unmemorable, patchwork self-importance. Given heavyweight performances, it could well have driven the Barbican Hall a few inches further under ground. Fortunately there were Ravel's fantastical orchestrations and Gergiev at his most elastic to lift us out of the musical mud.

Will the real Rodion Shchedrin please stand up? At 77, the man himself still can, unlike fellow Russians Shostakovich and Schnittke into whose much larger shoes some think him worthy to step, and he stood last night both to take his own bow and for Valery Gergiev's compelling Musorgsky-Ravel. His music, though, can lie prone under the weight of its unmemorable, patchwork self-importance. Given heavyweight performances, it could well have driven the Barbican Hall a few inches further under ground. Fortunately there were Ravel's fantastical orchestrations and Gergiev at his most elastic to lift us out of the musical mud.

To be interestingly disappointed isn’t bad - it’s being uninterestingly disappointed that is. This was an intriguing Prom with a full house, possibly because of Hélène Grimaud’s presence in the Ravel piano concerto, as well as Vladimir Ashkenazy on the podium. Surely it wasn’t for Scriabin’s Third Symphony, unheard here for almost 80 years? Or perhaps Richard Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier is so well beloved that even a dubious orchestral suite made from it lures the thousands?

From Russian “avant-garde constructivism” to Estonian minimalism via a jazz-inspired French concerto and the defiant originality of Scriabin – last night’s Prom from Esa-Pekka Salonen and the Philharmonia Orchestra had a lot of ground to cover.

Heading up this month's classical selection is a 16-CD budget box set of the complete works of Frédéric Chopin, issued to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the consumptive Pole's birth. Plus we review a rare piano concerto by Ralph Vaughan Williams, a disc of even rarer string orchestra works by the post-war Polish composer Grażyna Bacewicz, a fresh coupling of the Debussy and Ravel string quartets, a new version of Bruckner's mighty Eighth from the French-Canadian wunderkind Yannick Nézet-Séguin and two sets of historic recordings conducted by "Glorious John" Barbirolli.