The New York Philharmonic is in summer mode, giving a series of pops concerts, or semi-pops concerts. That is to the good: The pops repertory is large and worthy, and it’s a pity that we hear it only when it’s hot out — if then.

Wednesday night’s concert was all-American, hard on the heels of our national holiday. And on the podium, as usual during this season, was Bramwell Tovey, the genial Brit. He’s prized for his remarks to the audience, which are witty and charming. But Mr. Tovey is more than a schmoozester: He is a competent conductor.

The program began with Gershwin, a pastiche from his show “Strike Up the Band.” The title song is great, of course, and so are “I’ve Got a Crush on You” and others. Mr. Tovey conducted with sincerity and pep, and the Philharmonic played with same.

They next turned to Bernstein: the Three Dance Episodes from “On the Town.” Now, the Philharmonic is supposed to be the best Bernstein orchestra in the world, given the man’s long association with the group. But that doesn’t mean they can’t play Bernstein badly. Fortunately, Wednesday night was not such an occasion.

The second “episode” gives us the well-loved “Lonely Town,” and here the brass are to be complimented on their smoothness. The final episode features “New York, New York” — no, not the “if I can make it there” one, the other one. Mr. Tovey could have let this be freer, slyer, with more dynamic variation. It was rather loud and blunt. But little harm was done, and it was good to hear those woodwinds wail.

To end the first half, more Gershwin — his “Rhapsody in Blue,” with a twist. On hand to play was Marcus Roberts, a jazz pianist. He was to improvise the piano part, rather than play what Gershwin wrote out. And so he did. This was not a successful effort, in my view. Often, Mr. Roberts’s playing was more cocktail lounge than “Rhapsody,” and there were long stretches of awkwardness. Also dullness. The “Rhapsody” was deprived of its momentum and excitement. Moreover, Mr. Roberts was stiff at the keyboard, with even simple gestures such as arpeggios a problem.

But the audience in Avery Fisher Hall loved it. Then again, I might say that they were prepared to.

After intermission, the Philharmonic’s executive director, Zarin Mehta, came out, trailing Mr. Tovey. From the grave looks on their faces, it was clear that we would have some sort of tribute to Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, the mezzo-soprano who died earlier this week. That tribute turned out to be Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” (which kept the American theme). The orchestra played it passably, but good playing wasn’t really the point.

The program resumed with Copland’s “Lincoln Portrait.” Copland, of course, was an excellent composer, and Lincoln is one of the towering figures in history. But the “Portrait” is not one of Copland’s best pieces, to put it mildly. Mr. Tovey conducted it very well, infusing it with dignity, trimming it of bombast. Not helping him much was the narrator, F. Murray Abraham.

Mr. Abraham has been associated with classical music ever since he played Salieri in Peter Shaffer’s movie “Amadeus” (1984). Every word of that movie is a lie, including “and” and “the,” but it is a clever entertainment.

Far be it for a music critic to tell Mr. Abraham how to speak his lines — but let me. He did so with too much heat, passion, and theatricality. There was also pomposity. You don’t have to be emphatic in these lines, for they are emphatic in themselves. Lincoln made them so. You must speak them plainly and honestly — the way the president did.

At the end, Mr. Abraham shouted out the concluding words of the Gettysburg Address — as P.T. Barnum might have announced a show. It was grotesque.

Not yet done with Gershwin, Mr. Tovey turned to “An American in Paris,” which was just slightly risky, in this sense: The Philharmonic’s music director, Lorin Maazel, is the best Gershwin conductor in the world (along with André Previn). In this piece, he is suavity itself.

And yet Mr. Tovey was creditable. Some sections were too heavy — clotted — and the players weren’t glitch-free. Michelle Kim, sitting in the concertmaster’s chair, did not display her best intonation. But, overall, the performance was enjoyable.

To end the printed program, we had a piece by Aaron Jay Kernis: his “New Era Dance,” written for the Philharmonic in 1992. Why is it called “New Era”? Mr. Kernis came out to explain. The Philharmonic had just acquired a new music director, Kurt Masur, and Bill Clinton was about to be elected president. Yeah, that was epochal.

The “New Era Dance” starts out sounding like “West Side Story,” and pretty much continues to do so. I half expected to hear the Sharks and the Jets start to snap, and the orchestra to shout out “Mambo!” Instead, they chanted “New era” about 70 times. Sometimes it seems that, the worse the music, the more you have to freight it with nonsense, especially of the social-political type. Mr. Kernis is a better composer than this.

Before anyone in the audience had a chance to leave, Mr. Tovey and the orchestra played an encore. Remember when performers waited to be asked? Neither do I. Anyway, that encore was — inevitably — “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” and Mr. Tovey was quite right: The concert shouldn’t have ended any other way.