The most eagerly awaited concert of the season, at least for many New York Philharmonic subscribers, took place Wednesday evening at Avery Fisher Hall as Lorin Maazel began his six-part exploration of Brahms the Romantic.

Brahms composed nine major works for orchestra — four symphonies, four concerti, and a requiem — and over the coming months we have the opportunity to hear them all.

Rounding out these programs are some other pieces for orchestra, and Wednesday night began with the Serenade No. 1 from Brahms’s productive youth. The two serenades have never really been given their due, and it’s likely that many in the crowd were hearing this one for the first time. Even the Brahms biographer Robert Haven Schauffler pronounced them “dated,” and that was in 1933. The pieces, however, are significant essays, the second scored without violins. Those neophytes in attendance should have heard a charming and airy rendition, what John Adams might call naïve and sentimental music.

Unfortunately, what Mr. Maazel seems to hear in his mind’s ear is a heavy, ponderous slough through over 50 minutes of slush. Conspicuously absent was the signature lilt of this bucolic piece, which was supplanted by an almost martial feel. The overall impression recalled the late 1960s, when Soviet orchestras first came to the West. Whenever they tried to communicate the delicate music of Brahms, they sounded bloated and pompous in their their misguided attempt to capture the Teutonic spirit.

Although the Philharmonic sounded good, particularly a pleasing blend in the string section, the interpretation was deadly. Maestro did not commit the now almost clichéd type of Lorin Maazel transgression this night — that is, he did not try to recompose the music to his own idiosyncratic way of hearing. Rather, he was guilty of a more standard conductorial misdemeanor, choosing an interpretive pattern alien to the core of the heart of the music. The opening theme of the Allegro molto — played on the horn — was notable for its nonchalant quality, and set the tone for an unfocused performance.

There were well executed spots, particularly the complex construction that is the Adagio non troppo. Here Mr. Maazel brought out the architecture of this incredible early work and was free to do so without worrying about the rhythmic drive of the piece. But this rendition as a whole was simply leaden.

The D Minor Piano Concerto is one of the shining pillars of the repertoire. Luckily, Emanuel Ax was in attendance to pull this concert out of the fire. He delivered a solid performance, perhaps not his best single effort, but one imbued with a high degree of commitment.

Mr. Ax was impressive in his confident elocution and steadfast in his straightforwardness. He ran off of the rails a few times in the Maestoso, but this seemed insignificant compared to his recognition of the marmoreal nature of the piece. His lines were impeccably Classical, and his conception was unified and unwavering. Mr. Maazel led a flawless accompaniment with some especially fine playing by oboe and clarinet.