The Philadelphia Orchestra plays Benjamin Britten

Somehow he hovers around the list of great 20th-century composers, perhaps because he isn’t associated with a single masterpiece the way, say, Stravinsky is with The Rite of Spring, or with a formal innovation such as serialism. He found his voice early, and, though it deepened, it never much changed. Perhaps because he’s underperformed here, the quality of his music always comes with freshness and surprise.

Donald Runnicles led the Philadelphia Orchestra in two Britten works, one more and one less familiar: the Four Sea Interludes from Peter Grimes and the Violin Concerto. These were followed by Arvo Pärt’s brief Cantus in Memory of Benjamin Britten, composed just after Britten’s death in 1976 but only now receiving its Philadelphia premiere, and Mozart’s “Linz” Symphony, K. 425. The latter might seem a far stretch in a concert otherwise devoted to works by or about Britten, but it was a fitting choice, honoring his deep affinity with Mozart, whom he often conducted.

Peter Grimes is Britten’s best-known opera, and the Four Sea Interludes (sometimes also performed with the Passacaglia from the score) is a work that stands fully on its own. The unison chord in the violins that begins the opening section, “Dawn,” struck a note of lyric purity that put one immediately in the presence of a master, and Runnicles led a performance that was both refined and vibrant.

Britten's violin concerto is infrequently performed, perhaps because it eschews a bravura solo line, but it belongs on any short list of great 20th-century concertos. There’s no break in the music, which proceeds from the opening Moderato, alternately pensive and agitated, to a Vivace Scherzo, and, by means of the concerto’s one cadenza, into a passacaglia finale. Soloist Janine Jensen threw off the technical and intellectual demands of her part with vigor and aplomb. The orchestra, which carried much of the argument in its own lines, was again excellent. Philadelphia did not hear this score until 1987, some 46 years after its premiere during the London Blitz. It should be welcomed on a regular basis.

Pärt’s Cantus, a canon for string orchestra and bells, has a compounded mass of sound slowly building to a climax that is never quite reached, but fades away on a final bell tone. Runnicles asked the audience to refrain from applause and moved without pause to Mozart. This was a miscalculation on his part. First, the audience needed a moment, even without applause, to move between sound worlds. Secondly, although the relatively modest wind and brass forces needed for Mozart were already waiting onstage, there was no opportunity to reduce the string section to a more classical proportion. The result was a performance out of balance, with the strings, so nimble in Britten and appropriately massed for Pärt, sounding top-heavy. It was the spoiler in an otherwise rewarding concert.

There was a further distraction to the proceedings as well, although one with an antidote. For some reason, the Four Sea Interludes were played against the backdrop of a video projection by one Tal Rosner. This is a very bad idea in the concert hall, where one’s eyes ought to rest either on the musicians or on a score, and one’s attention belongs to the music. Fortunately, the screen was high enough above the stage to be ignored. The effort shouldn’t have been necessary, though. Hearing great music superbly rendered by a great orchestra is surely occupation enough.