Phil’s gala is splashy yet worthy

There exists an assumption, pervasive in our great cities, that those willing to shell out thousands of dollars to attend the galas that regularly open important symphony orchestra seasons are basically cultural illiterates. Socialites come to concerts, arts administrators figure, to schmooze and snooze.

Give them a big-name soloist, preferably one who has been on Jay Leno or at least a PBS fund drive. Program a blockbuster by Tchaikovsky that needs little rehearsal. Ply them with champagne. Feed them well after the concert. Entertain them with a dance band. Efficiently park and retrieve their cars, fenders intact.

Then send them home, not to be seen again until next year.

This scam works fine in urbane New York and sophisticated San Francisco. Maybe it would in Los Angeles as well, if the Philharmonic cared to try.

Thursday night, the orchestra opened its fourth season in the Walt Disney Concert Hall with a high-end gala -- red carpet, tent over Grand Avenue for Patina-catered dining, beautiful people dripping diamonds.

This was, music director Esa-Pekka Salonen told the audience, his 15th L.A. Philharmonic gala. But neither he nor his administration seemed to know the first thing about such gala essentials as famous soloists, routine programming, slipshod performances or even exclusivity. They also let the profits slip right through their hands.

Soprano Awet Andemicael, tenor Augustin Prunell-Friend and bass-baritone Kyle Ketelsen were on hand. Although well-suited for their tasks, they are hardly household names.

Music educators and young musicians were invited to mingle with the crowd. The orchestra donated its services, with proceeds transferred to the Philharmonic pension fund.

The central work was a striking 20th century rarity -- Manuel de Falla’s “Master Peter’s Puppet Show,” staged by the popular puppeteer Basil Twist. Before it came a warm and glowing account of Ravel’s “Mother Goose” Suite -- all ravishing sweetness and innocence. Ravel’s “Bolero,” equally ravishing but hardly sweet or innocent, sent the crowd away highly charged.

That is not to say that the evening was without gimmickry or that everything worked. But much more important -- and all but unheard of for a gala -- everything was worthwhile and worth trying.

“Master Peter’s Puppet Show,” which premiered in Seville in 1923, is marionette music theater based on a poignant incident in “Don Quixote.” The Don watches a puppet show about a knight in Charlemagne’s court who rescues his wife after she has been captured by the Moors. The ever-chivalrous Don, touched by a damsel in distress, is quick to help and attacks the puppets, destroying the show.

Falla’s innovation was to make the Don and Master Peter, the narrator, also puppets, if life-size. The three singers sit among a chamber orchestra. The score is exciting, updating Spanish Baroque music and folk singing into a powerful Neoclassical brew.

Twist, whose experimental, underwater, puppet-ized “Symphonie Fantastique” briefly made it to Broadway two years ago, set up a marionette theater in front of the Disney organ loft, behind the orchestra. His staging was originally created for the Eos Ensemble in New York, which performed in a space a fraction of Disney’s size.

I suspect the show was entrancing. The larger puppets were relatively visible from the rear section of the auditorium, but the smaller puppets on their stage were mere specks for anyone but those up front. Still, there was more than enough coming from Falla’s score to stimulate the imagination, and the sense of spectacle was nonetheless unmistakable.

“Bolero” came with a modest light show and colors galore from the orchestra. Salonen played Disney as “Bolero”-central, taking advantage of a hall in which the slightest whisper of a pizzicato can be sensed and the loudest euphoric forte can resonate without causing pain.

But the quiet passages all evening impressed the most. Gala patrons are supposed to take a while to settle down. “Mother Goose” began in an ethereal realm. The only extraneous sound I heard was, I think, a pin drop.

Confetti fell after “Bolero.” That’s a Disney gala tradition, but this wasn’t the collectible, Gehry-esque gold flakes that have been sold on eBay (no kidding). I guess you can’t have everything.

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mark.swed@latimes.com