The Orpheus Chamber Orchestra put on a bonnie wee concert at Carnegie Hall two nights ago.Why am I talking Scottish gibberish? Because the Orpheus program had a theme: Scotland. And, yes, bagpipes were played.

First on the program for this conductorless group was “An Orkney Wedding, With Sunrise,” a popular piece by Sir Peter Maxwell Davies. Sir Peter is an Englishman, but he has lived in Scotland – in the Orkney Islands, way up north – since the early 1970s. He wrote his wedding piece in 1985, and it has gone round the world.It depicts the various stages of local nuptials, which go on all night.At the end, we get that sunrise.

Orpheus played the piece with vigor and affection.The woodwind playing,in particular, was superb: warm and beguiling. Some graininess in the violins was just right for Scottish dances – you don’t want too much of a classical polish. The dear horn had a bit of a struggle, but don’t they all?

When the sunrise came, it was heralded by a bagpiper, marching down the aisle from the back of Carnegie Hall. For some reason, he was wearing a skirt – and he played with serene power.

Incidentally, Sir Peter Maxwell Davies is one of our busiest, most commissioned composers. The Naxos recording label has paid him to write a full 10 string quartets: “The Naxos Quartets.” One of them, No. 3, is a depiction and denunciation of the Iraq war – or, as the composer himself put it, “an unpremeditated and spontaneous reaction to the illegal invasion of Iraq.”

Whatever you think of this view, the Quartet No. 3 is a skillful composition.

As the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra played the Orkney piece, a huge array of percussion instruments were in front of them, unused. What was that equipment doing there? Waiting for Evelyn Glennie, the most celebrated percussionist in the world. (The only celebrated one, really.) This Aberdeen-born lass has had some 130 pieces written for her – a brand new repertory.

One of these pieces is “Veni, Veni Emmanuel,” by the Scottish composer James MacMillan. It was this that Ms. Glennie played with Orpheus. Mr. MacMillan is perhaps best known for his orchestral work “The Confession of Isobel Gowdie,” which may be as popular as “An Orkney Wedding, With Sunrise.”

It must be said that, music-making aside, Evelyn Glennie puts on a heckuva show. She comes out in bare feet, with buff arms, and strides or struts around the stage, going from instrument to instrument – or percussion station to percussion station – playing with acuity and elan. Mallets seem to be coming out of her ears. In the MacMillan piece, she played with a nice blending of heart and head. Her dynamic shadings were especially to be appreciated.

As for the piece itself, it no doubt showcases the percussionist, specifically Ms. Glennie. And its sincerity both musical and religious can’t be denied. But it may go on a bit long.There is one subdued, lulling, quasi-minimalist section, in particular, that could use a trim. Or so it seems to me.

In any case, Ms. Glennie makes a boffo (in addition to a buff) advocate. As the piece neared its end, she walked solemnly to the back of the stage, ascended a ladder, and played some final, mystical chimes. Theatrical, yes, but effective.

And after intermission? Why, the Symphony No. 3 in A minor by that great Scotsman Felix Mendelssohn. No, he was no Scot, but he did tour Scotland,and some years later fashioned his “Scottish” Symphony. This work reflects the brooding nature of those islands – or at least their weather – and it reels a bit, too.

The Orpheus Chamber Orchestra played it admirably. But you could say the work was missing a couple of things: a conductor and a full symphony orchestra. At times, Orpheus could have used tighter coordination,and,at times, the music could have used a fatter sound, and a grander sweep.

But Orpheus provided compensations: among them, clarity, for you could hear every part – almost see them.

Was there an encore? No. I had thought of the “Hebrides” Overture – again, Mendelssohn – but, at about 10 minutes, that’s probably too long.