Birmingham Contemporary Music Group, Philharmonie Kammermusiksaal, Berlin

Is this a British invasion? Barely a week after Simon Rattle took over at the Berlin Philharmonic, Birmingham Contemporary Music Group (BCMG) arrived, keen to show Berliners that, post-Rattle, musical life in Birmingham retains its vigour.

Indeed, BCMG delayed its performance in the Philharmonie's Kammermusiksaal, so that Rattle could attend after rehearsing the Berlin Phil next door. The composer he was rehearsing? Mark-Anthony Turnage. And the composer BCMG was performing? Turnage again.

BCMG presented two Turnage pieces, the first a world premiere. Torn Fields sets Great War poetry, including "Wounded" by Wilfred Owen, which presages Sean O'Casey's The Silver Tassie. That in turn became Turnage's most recent opera, and Torn Fields occupies the same territory, in terms of subject matter, instrumental colouring and vocal timbre: Turnage wrote the cycle for Gerald Finley, who took the main role in The Silver Tassie.

Freed of operatic conventions, Turnage here finds a more natural vocal expression, which generates greater instrumental freedom. Of the seven movements, two are purely instrumental, including the Prologue, a plaintive wind chorale led by flute and oboe, underpinned by sax and clarinet. Sombre but never dull, these are Turnage's natural colours.

For the first song, a setting of Kipling's "Loss", a solo bassoon seems to drag the voice up from its depths; at first, words won't come, and Finley simply hums. Then, prompted by the bass clarinet, his dark, ominous baritone finds what it is he wants to say: "My son was killed laughing at some jest."

Throughout, Turnage triggers emotional responses without the musical exaggeration that such lines invite. The creeping figure for bowed bass that opens "Wounded" expands as it passes to the cello; then horns call as if across a vast chasm.Finley drained the colour from his voice to describe the wounded man, shivering "in his ghastly suit of grey".

Turnage is ever more assured in the effects he achieves. The only false moment in the cycle's 25 minutes came in this song; when he briefly pushed Finley into falsetto, it sounded uncomfortable, manipulative. Otherwise Torn Fields proved a richly moving experience.

Then came Bass Inventions, Turnage's concerto for the jazz bassist Dave Holland. Working with jazz soloists, here and in Blood on the Floor (the piece Rattle was rehearsing with the Berlin Phil), has expanded Turnage's range. While he never sounds merely imitative, there is no clear division between what he writes for Holland, and what Holland improvises. Holland's playing is so limber that it demands precise but flexible rhythmic articulation from the players. Under Alexander Briger, BCMG relished the challenge.

After the interval, Holland's own quintet played. The players' ability is undoubtable, but the traditional structure of opening statement/ solos/reprise was restrictive; while Billy Kilson's hyperactive drumming eventually proved enervating.