MUTTER MAKES AUSPICIOUS DEBUT : LEINSDORF CLOSES PHILHARMONIC SEASON

It hasn’t been the best of all possible Philharmonic seasons. At the moment, our orchestra is a faceless ensemble in the uneasy state of flux--probably a tired and possibly a demoralized ensemble at that.

Contrary to popular propaganda, all isn’t necessarily well that ends well. Still, one must give the Fleischmann his due. Our intrepid executive director managed to end his season well at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion on Thursday night--with a lot of help from Erich Leinsdorf and Anne-Sophie Mutter.

Leinsdorf, at 73, has become a grand old master almost by default. His skills as an orchestral technician are beyond question. On bad days he may approach standard challenges as if on automatic pilot. Thursday, thank goodness, was not a bad day.

Mutter, at 21, already is a grand old lady of the violin. She has been an international luminary, after all, since 1977, when a champion named Herbert von Karajan introduced her to Salzburg. Her belated local debut suggested that, just once in a while, publicity machines and recordings may not lie. It gives one faith.

The seasonal valedictory began with two dutiful minutes of muted throat-clearing for brass: Carl Ruggles’ “Angels.” Though a nice gesture, it didn’t--couldn’t--mean much in this context. For most practical purposes, the concert began with Mutter and the Brahms Concerto. And began gloriously.

The German violinist is a paragon--an artist who seems to savor the poignancy of simplicity, a technician who seems to know no limits, a stylist who seems to encounter no distortion when viewing late 19th-Century rhetoric through late 20th-Century eyes. With Leinsdorf and the orchestra providing sane, poised, impeccably balanced support, she gave ample value to Brahms’ heroic flourishes while concentrating on his intimate explorations.

She certainly can produce a big, healthy, burnished sound when she wants to. But her real forte would seem to be her pianissimo.

She outlined the lyrical passages with a thread of gleaming, radiant, ravishing tone, and consolidated that rare and tender virtue with perfect pitch and neat rhythmic definition. May she return soon, and often.

After intermission, Leinsdorf had been scheduled to conduct “Le Sacre du Printemps.” In the last of this year’s many unexplained program changes, however, he turned instead to the noble Americana of Aaron Copland’s Third Symphony.

Given the relative neglect of the Copland, not to mention the clarity, tension and dramatic restraint of the Leinsdorf performance, only the most unsatiable Stravinskyan could complain.