City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra/ Elts, Symphony Hall, Birmingham

Outsiders often see things more clearly from their distant perspective, which is one reason why some of the best Spanish music is by foreign composers. Neatly anticipating the BBC Proms' "fiesta" theme, the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra devoted a whole programme to Spain's influence on just one country – France. Even in a programme as fragmented as this one was, however, there was room to feature only a few of those Frenchmen who came under Hispanic influence, some of whom scarcely set foot in Spain.

The young Estonian, Olari Elts, big in Tallinn, would not have been mine, and perhaps not the players' first choice of conductor for this often sultry and sexy programme. Competent though he seems on the podium, his manner and appearance unfortunately conjure up memories of the teenage William Hague. But he began with a suitably languid account of the Prélude to Ravel's Rapsodie espagnole, which blossomed with mesmerising warmth and excitement into the explosive final "Feria". Debussy's Ibéria, on the other hand, lacked much impression of either night or day, allowing us neither to luxuriate in "Les parfums de la nuit", nor anticipate much joyous festivity in "Le matin d'un jour de fête".

Elts's control of structure seemed to return in the one non-Spanish piece, Ravel's La Valse, into which he had the courage to throw himself with remarkable expressive abandon, keeping power in reserve, while building up to the thrill of the percussive climax.

Given that Cervante's Don Quixote was recently voted the best work of fiction ever written, it's perhaps not surprising that the man of La Mancha inspired some fine songs. No one is clear, however, why not one but two eminent French composers penned tunes for the same film, Pabst's Don Quichotte. Jacques Ibert's were selected and Ravel was the unlucky loser in this contest. As François Le Roux demonstrated in his touchingly characterful interpretation of the mini song-cycles by both composers, each has its own charm.

Ibert's Quatre chansons de Don Quichotte couldn't be further removed from the entertaining side of the composer as represented in Divertissement. Subtly coloured in Spanish hues, seductive strings, with the merest jazz inflexion on saxophone, lend a gentle romantic underlay to the vocalist's tales.

In his persuasive account of Ravel's Don Quichotte à Dulcinée, Le Roux successfully gauged the composer's customary refinement in "Chanson romanesque" with the apparent abandon Ravel, by now fatally ill, invested in the delightfully unbuttoned "Chanson à boire".