Thanks for the moderation

Once the Philadelphia Orchestra players finished their preperformance leaflet excursion into the Thursday-night Kimmel Center audience to protest Saturday's looming bankruptcy vote, certain realities set in: These subscription concerts may be the last by the pre-Chapter 11 version of this ensemble. If so, at least they are led by longtime guest David Zinman, a model of solidity bound to leave sweet memories.

Typical of Zinman programs, the feel-good second half (Mahler's Symphony No. 4) was preceded by something that would make you hear it differently, in this case Berg's Lulu Suite. Great for Mahler, less good for Berg.

Pairing the two composers makes huge sense. Both are quite Viennese, though Mahler was edging toward modernism and Berg away from it. The 1920s Berg peered at the moral deterioration of pre-Nazi Europe. Some 25 years earlier, Mahler was peering every which way: backward and forward in time, high and low in artistic influences, and preaching the joys of heaven with uncomplicated words and often-skeptical music.

The problem with Berg's Lulu Suite is its provisional nature: It was assembled to spur interest in his as-yet-unfinished opera. But without dramatic context, there's much musical ingenuity and not a lot of meaning. Some of the music was meant to accompany a film section of the opera, but you didn't need to know that to feel that this was like a film score without the film. The suite's message is that the finished Lulu would be a far more voluptuous sound world than the thorny Wozzeck. Zinman gave the music Mozartean clarity while soprano Jennifer Welch-Babidge brought much musicality to vocal movements.

In a world crowded with vociferous Mahlerians, Zinman's considerable distinction is his miniaturist sensibility. Big washes of sound were used only when absolutely necessary, the lack of them revealing some less-than-clean entrances and exits in the orchestra. So little extraneous sound was apparent that each thematic reiteration took on an evolving character that might not otherwise have been audible. The symphony felt densely and diversely populated - especially with all the personality that individual players brought to their incidental solos. Welch-Babidge returned for the Mahler, projecting the childlike qualities of the final movement with lack of affectation.

Overall, the performance contained nothing radical. Tempos were lively but not rushed. The third movement has rarely begun so quietly. Basses had special gravity. It all added up to moderation born out of a golden-mean sensibility. One could almost describe Zinman in Ormandian terms: Had Eugene Ormandy a more probing intellect, a sharper sense of rhythm, and greater adeptness with complex meters - well, he wouldn't be Ormandy anymore. He'd be David Zinman.