Brilliant Bartók and an Adams premiere from the Philadelphia Orchestra

When the Philadelphia Orchestra named Marin Alsop its next Principal Guest Conductor last year, a music-savvy friend asked me the question that seemed to be on everyone’s mind: “How long before Yunchan Lim finally makes his debut here?” The wait, it turns out, was short. After appearing with nearly every major American orchestra in the three years since he won the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition, the 21-year-old superstar arrived at Marian Anderson Hall for the season’s first subscription concert, performing Bartók’s Piano Concerto no. 3 in E major. The Hungarian composer’s valedictory work suited Lim’s technical brilliance and his interpretive prowess, announcing him as an artist who has already developed a singular style.

Lim wore his star status lightly in Allegretto, which functions almost as a concerto for orchestra, with the piano first among equals. With phrasing that volleyed between tangy folksiness and supreme elegance, he offered lovely duets with flute, trumpet and percussion. The Adagio religioso was full of quiet introspection, buoyed by transparent, vibrato-free strings. Every note coming from Lim’s Steinway seemed like a deeply personal statement here. His repose in the central music contrasted brilliantly with the juicy chords of the vibrant finale, a thrilling steeplechase. Alsop kept the orchestra’s sound brawny when needed and tame elsewhere.

The concert featured the world premiere of The Rock You Stand On, a work dedicated to Alsop by John Adams. The ten-minute tone poem often resembled a left-handed gift. Adams is often capable of immense wit and charm in his writing, in addition to ravishingly beautiful melodies. Those qualities were not in evidence among the fragmentary string figures and large orchestral thickets that dominated the piece. The relentless repetitive nature of the piece seemed like a parody of serialism, and while the program notes referenced Richard Strauss and big-band sound as reference points for Adams, it contained little of the harmonic grandeur or rhythmic freedom those analogs might suggest.

A selection of movements from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet ballet score closed the evening. Conducting without a score, Alsop summoned a mighty sound in the ballet’s most intensely dramatic scenes – the sonically overwhelming Montagues and Capulets, defined by its deafening brass, and the raucous Death of Tybalt – but led a wan reading of the quieter, introspective sections. Despite isolated thrills, the music failed to adhere as a narrative, with little sense of a definitive dramatic shape. Concertmaster David Kim’s solos gave Juliet an elegant voice, but frequent flubs among small groups within the orchestra suggested an overall lack of rehearsal. As often happens with music composed to accompany dance, repetitive passages tied to gesture ultimately became tedious.

Perhaps the most memorable aspects of the performance were the encores. After Bartók, Lim returned for a sumptuous transcription of Korngold’s Schönste nacht, full of arpeggiated notes that glistened like moonbeams. And at the end of the night, Alsop returned to lead a noisy, undistinguished reading of the General Dance of Enthusiasm and Apotheosis from Shostakovich’s suite from The Bolt.