PERVERSE PROKOFIEV, POIGNANT BRUCKNER : STRANGE BILLFELLOWS AT THE PHILHARMONIC

Prokofiev and Bruckner make strange billfellows. The Russian composer was an economical progressive whose language favored speed, muscle, piquant lyricism and something akin to brash grotesquerie. The Austrian was a leisurely, misplaced romantic who dealt primarily in breadth, serenity, digression, convoluted lyricism and sacred bombast.

Any believer in cliches would expect Esa-Pekka Salonen--the decidedly boyish 27-year-old marvel from Finland--to have a natural affinity to the gutsy athletics of Prokofiev, but to find the emphatically mature, ethereal meanderings of Bruckner something of a strain. Salonen confounded the cliches Thursday night at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion.

He conducted the mighty Sixth Symphony of Bruckner as if he had been probing its spiritual content, untangling its expressive knots and smoothing its rough edges for many decades. He wasn’t nearly as persuasive, however, in the Second Piano Concerto of Prokofiev.

It is perfectly possible that he could triumph in Prokofiev under different conditions--specifically with a different pianist. The problems on this occasion related to the interpretively eccentric, technically uneven performance of the soloist, Alexander Toradze.

Most idiomatic performers approach this bravura challenge with a cool head and steely fingers. Brilliance, strength, stamina and emotional restraint seem to be the prime requisites for success.

Toradze, 33, is the sort of musician who refuses to rely on hand-me-down perspectives. His originality often can be refreshing and illuminating. Here it bordered on the perverse.

Where Prokofiev indicated a need to surge forward, crisply and boldly, the Russian pianist seemed to want to rhapsodize. Where the composer refused to bow to sentimentality, Toradze seemed to want to improvise soulful nocturnes.

One had to admire his individuality--it is especially welcome, and surprising, in a world overoccupied by keyboard mechanics who specialize in virtuosic sterility. Still, one repeatedly felt he was playing against the grain of this score--and not always playing very accurately either.

The devilish moto perpetuo flourishes of the scherzo got scrambled with blurred notes, a tempo that bordered on the impossible and decidedly haphazard orchestral synchronization. At the end of the performance (warmly received by a relatively sparse audience), Toradze and Salonen decided to repeat the scherzo. This time they actually ended together.

It was difficult to ascertain whether the odd encore represented a bona-fide performance bonus or an impulsive attempt to get things right the second time around.

Be that as it may, Salonen restored stylistic sanity after intermission. Wisely, he did not strive for the gargantuan majesty that German conductors of the old school brought to this music. Instead, he stressed the inherent transparency and subtlety, and he did his considerable best to minimize the compositional sprawl.

He savored introspective details, explored the expressive possibilities of the sustained pianissimo, defined the throbbing rhetoric in a fine, subdued glow, and--thank goodness--kept the potential bathos of the heroic climaxes within human bounds. With careful, blessedly non-balletic control, he got the strings to play with shimmering warmth that compensated for some smudges under pressure, and the brass blared with glory.

It all bodes well for the Mahler Fourth next week.