Not quite picnicking as usual at the Bowl

A concertgoer at the Hollywood Bowl can feel planted in a field of foodies, a setting for fine picnicking being one of the amphitheater’s major attractions. But on stage, bread and butter, meat and potatoes (choose your plain, sustaining food metaphor) are still the favored fare. When the names Beethoven and Brahms are on the bill, attendance figures rise.

Thursday night, a healthy-sized, if not exactly huge, crowd turned out for Beethoven’s Third Piano Concerto, with the young Jonathan Biss as soloist, and Brahms’ Fourth Symphony. Leonard Slatkin conducted the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and he began with Weber’s Overture to “Oberon.”

Such a program may represent less a lack of imagination on the part of Slatkin, in his third season as the orchestra’s principal guest conductor at the Bowl, than his -- or anybody else’s -- ability to interfere with a successful programming formula by including more work by the many living American composers he champions. A cynic might also accuse a blase Philharmonic of feeling that such an evening is a low priority. Some section principals took the night off. So did other players. Nothing escapes the video cameras, which panned over faces of substitutes.

Rehearsal time is minimal, which all but eliminated the hope for carefully finessed interpretations. And yet, as Bowl nights go, this was not an ineffective one. There is something to be said for letting second-string players step up; the orchestra’s talent runs deep. There is also something to be said for the adrenaline rush of being put on the spot without the safety net of full rehearsals. Like the video, the aggressive amplification leaves no place to hide.

Slatkin played to his strengths, which include a solid sense of rhythm, a certain flare for colorful effects and a sure sense of moving music along logically. There weren’t many surprises, and my taste in a more voluptuous Brahms may not have been entirely satisfied. But Slatkin generously ladled the lyricism of the Fourth Symphony, and in the last movement he hammered away at the passacaglia theme with convincing force and momentum. The slow movement was weak, but much else was exciting.

Biss, at 26, is not exciting, and I don’t think he tries to be. He plays with exacting care. My piano teacher would have adored him. He does everything right.

He shapes melodies like a sculptor in sound. His tone is crystal clear. He never exaggerates, but takes no phrase for granted. His technique is spotless.

The problem is, I kept hearing my piano teacher whispering in my ear. Bliss played everything as it was supposed to be played. Some might say that, in the age of Lang Lang, is a refreshing trait for a young pianist.

Predictability is comforting. A pianist who startles picnickers into dropping their wine glasses, who throws off an under-rehearsed orchestra may not be what the Bowl is looking for on an ordinary Thursday night. Biss’ Beethoven was never less than admirable. With maturity it may become illuminating.

mark.swed@latimes.com