RICCI SOLOIST IN COSTA MESA

Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky is alive, loud, flashy, gushy, slushy and well in Orange County.

Wednesday night at the Performing Arts Center, Keith Clark and the Pacific Symphony offered their subscribers a soulful orgy of hum-along romanticism.

The faithful responded by applauding at every opportunity--sometimes despite the conductor’s pained disapproval--and by standing, cheering, whomping and whistling when the whiz-bang cadences beckoned.

The not-so-faithful responded by leaving, in surprisingly large numbers, at intermission.

The audience behavior may have been a bit bizarre, even by Costa Mesa standards. Still, this was a pretty good Tchaikovsky concert, as Tchaikovsky concerts go. Everything is relative.

The central stimulus for mass excitement was young (68) Ruggiero Ricci, who ventured the bravura platitudes of the Violin Concerto. He has been venturing those platitudes, with generally delirious results, for nearly six decades.

At this juncture in his extraordinary career, Ricci can be excused if he doesn’t invariably face old challenges with fresh passion. He also can be forgiven if, early in the evening, he subjects Tchaikovsky to some rough and scratchy patches.

In context, such technicalities hardly matter. Ricci remains a master of the bold outburst, the sentimental indulgence and the pyrotechnical flight. He still plays with remarkably generous, steady, burnished tone. He still takes command with taste and flair.

Clark and the orchestra provided a sympathetic symphonic framework for their illustrious guest. Left to their own devices, in the “Romeo and Juliet” Overture and the Fifth Symphony, they delivered a lot of mush and thunder.

As encountered in Row M, downstairs, the instrumental sound tended to be raucous beyond the norm. Whether this was a performance quirk or a matter of acoustical distortion remains to be heard.

For better or worse, Clark opted for pervasively broad strokes and brash dynamics. The approach may have been prosaic, but it was undeniably propulsive. His players executed his instructions with infectious high spirits, even when internal pitch went askew and linear definition got scrambled.

Some war horses always win.