Few of opera's big beasts are as fabulous as soprano Karita Mattila, who returned as the Wigmore Hall's season-opening act after 13 years away from the venue.

You know what they say absence does to the heart, and Mattila seemed to be counting on it, craving indulgence for her cold before the start, and offering only one encore, Strauss's Zueignung, its refrain of Habe Dank directed personally at her listeners. Judging by the reception throughout, she was among friends.

At least they will have found it easy to overlook the occasionally foxed tuning in Berg's Seven Early Songs, which found Mattila dipping into an expressively fluid, bottle-green low register that skirted a chesty tone more suited to Weill. Four songs by Brahms offered more comfortable soprano territory; in Von ewiger Liebe, Martin Katz was able to build the piano line as much as he liked, confident that Mattila had the vocal heft to ride it out.

Five songs by her compatriot Sibelius put Mattila on a roll, with a more relaxed, intimate style of delivery and, in the final song, a hint of the stillness she can summon so effectively on the opera stage. Four songs by Strauss showed her soprano near its gleaming best, and took her to extremes: although in Wiegenlied she almost took a back seat to Katz's rippling piano, she ended by flinging out Frühlingsfeier like Brünnhilde on her rock.

Then, as the applause swelled, she pressed the diminutive Katz's nose into her bosom, wiped her brow, kissed her hand and stooped to touch the Wigmore's hallowed platform. From any other singer all this shtick would be hilariously cringe-worthy. From Mattila, it's hilarious, yes – but however questionable its place on the lieder platform, the operatic scene would be duller without it.