MUSIC REVIEW : Boston Pops Delivers Goods With Polish

What is it about the venerable Boston Pops that whets the appetite for fried chicken? Could it be the reflexive instinct to picnic inspired by this summer-stock alter ego of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, or the unabashed Americana of a concert framed by the “Star-Spangled Banner” and ‘Stars and Stripes Forever,” as happened when the Pops Esplanade Orchestra landed at the Hollywood Bowl on Sunday?

These were the burning questions at the Bowl in a gentle diversion of a concert. In the main, polished and innocuous--not at all dirty words--were the operative adjectives here. It was an unruffled, unruffling treat to hear them. Most all of the 11,336 people in attendance seemed to agree, chicken or no.

Of course, this was no ordinary visit by the Pops, but the local debut of 35-year-old Keith Lockhart, the bright, handsome young heir to the post left empty by John Williams’ departure. Not coincidentally, the program was well stocked with Williams material, including, yes, music from “Star Wars.” This is Hollywood, after all.

As for the issue of this orchestra settling for lite ambitions, the first half confirmed the fact that this band can really play. The crossover aspirations of Morton Gould’s jazz-classical-minded “American Symphonette No. 2” came across boldly, although the group’s sense of swing tends to be of the somewhat prim, white-jacketed variety.

Best of all, Copland’s “Letter From Home,” a wistful cascade of open-plained harmonies, and the sly bawdiness of “El Salon Mexico” were given sharp definition under the lead of Lockhart, who conducts with an exuberant, infectious clarity.

In the second half, special guest Michael Feinstein attended the piano and the microphone with his usual focused passion, for a slate of songs from stage and screen. David Raksin’s “Laura” enjoyed a lushly outfitted orchestral arrangement, and Feinstein bowed to songs by Broadway composer Jerry Herman. Swing, Pops-style, prevailed as the program closed with “One O’Clock Jump” and “Satin Doll,” featuring pianist Bob Winter’s satin-y improvisations.

For an encore, the orchestra offered Stephen Sondheim’s “No One Is Alone,” the music’s suspended harmonic air ushering in a whiff of modernity in a set mostly given over to romanticism and resolutions.

On cue, a small plane took its time passing over the Bowl, its sound providing an interval of a fifth to the music, swooping down to roughly a fundamental just as the song ended. Even this sonic stowaway was gracefully behaved on Pops night.