When the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra plays a concert, it styles itself “The MET Orchestra.” Why, I don’t know. Probably a legal reason. In any case, that is the orchestra that played in Carnegie Hall on Friday night.

On the podium was Mirga Grazinyte-Tyla, a Lithuanian who is the music director of the CBSO—the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra—in England. The program began with a famous tone poem, continued with a famous song-cycle, and ended with a famous symphony.

The tone poem? The one about a faun, or his afternoon, by Debussy. From the Met orchestra, it was unusually blunt and mechanical. There was very little mystery in it, very little gauze, hardly any flow. Notes seemed placed, when they should arise naturally. You could hear the calculation in this performance.

And rarely has this music been less French.

On to the song-cycle then, which was Mussorgsky’s Songs and Dances of Death. As a rule, I like this cycle better with piano than with orchestra. It’s often more chilling that way, probably because starker. With an orchestra, it can seem too operatic or lush. Even too pretty. But Shostakovich did the orchestration, so who am I to complain?

The soloist was Anita Rachvelishvili, a Georgian mezzo-soprano well-known as a Carmen. In the Mussorgsky, she deployed her beautiful voice, featuring a range of colors. Her technique was secure, and she was seamless. By that I mean, there were no breaks in her voice, from the bottom of it to the top. On a few high notes, she was low, but only a little.

Also, she has a quality that all good Carmens have—she can scald.

As for Maestro—Maestra?—Grazinyte-Tyla, she conducted vividly, paying close attention to rhythm and to the cutting off of notes. In this cycle, the orchestra does some storytelling, as well as the singer (who of course has the advantage of words). Grazinyte-Tyla recognized this.

I have very little to complain about when it comes to this performance—except something big: the cycle did not chill or scare or unnerve as it should. It was somehow too beautiful and smooth for that. It was borderline pleasant.

A word about Grazinyte-Tyla’s podium style. When I hear—see—a conductor for the first time, I like to report on podium style. Grazinyte-Tyla is very expressive with her body, like a dancer (modern dancer) or even a gymnast. Sometimes she is herky-jerky, like a marionette. She goes up and down on her toes, like Matthias Goerne singing, or Joshua Bell playing the violin.

Whatever it takes to get the job done, that’s what a conductor should do. And it’s different for every conductor. Lorin Maazel had an ultra-sophisticated baton technique; Mstislav Rostropovich often looked like a rustic. Both got the job done, in their own ways.

The famous symphony was No. 4 of Tchaikovsky. It began imprecisely, which is a dispiriting way to begin. Then the horns stumbled, also dispiriting. The first movement was competently conducted and competently played. But conductor and orchestra left a lot on the table, so to speak. There is much more to mine, musically, from this movement.

The second movement featured some nice singing, as required. (Its marking is “Andantino in modo di canzona.”) At the end, the pizzicatos weren’t together, but when are they?

Speaking of pizzicatos, the Scherzo was interesting. (This third movement is a pizzicato movement.) It was unusually slow. That’s all right with me, if the conductor makes up for it with character. I did not detect much of this, however. I thought the movement was infected by dullness.

And the Finale? Fine, fine, except for some brass entrances. One should have had more from a Met orchestra concert, or a MET Orchestra concert. Regardless, I look forward to hearing Mirga Grazinyte-Tyla again, and to seeing how she advances in the musical world.

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