Peter Lieberson is the son of Goddard Lieberson – the late legend of the classical-record industry – and the husband of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, the beloved mezzo-soprano. But who is Mr. Lieberson himself? He is a composer whose work is performed steadily by what seems a wide circle of friends. Prominent in that circle is Peter Serkin, the pianist who is the son of another pianist, the late Rudolf.

Five years ago, Mr. Lieberson wrote “Red Garuda,” commissioned by the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and dedicated to Mr. Serkin along with Seiji Ozawa, then the BSO’s music director. It is not exactly a piano concerto, but a four movement piece for orchestra and piano, if you will allow. You might say that the piece includes extensive piano solos.

The piece grew out of a spiritual/mystical vision that Mr. Lieberson had, a vision featuring a garuda, for which I will cite the dictionary definition: a “supernatural half-man and half-bird vehicle or bearer of Vishnu.” Mr. Lieberson’s piece is the musical expression of that vision.

It is rather New Agey and psychedelic, yes, but I don’t mean that derogatorily. There is a whole category in American classical music of this sort of composition, and many people like it. “Red Garuda” is impressionistic, or, if you prefer, picturesque. It could be the soundtrack of a “Jurassic Park”-like movie, in which a giant raptor soars and darts about.

Like many modern pieces, it uses a ton of percussion, including Chinese cymbals, a whip, and a ratchet. The instrumentation overall is both interest ing and effective.

It might be asked whether the public needed to have this expression of Mr. Lieberson’s vision. It is a relatively brief work – and always busy – but somewhat monotonous, to my mind. In this, it is hardly distinguished from much of what is produced today. Will it be played in the future, once Mr. Lieberson’s friends pass from the scene? I doubt it, but a critic enters such an opinion at some peril.

“Red Garuda” was performed on Saturday night by Mr. Serkin and the New York Philharmonic, at Avery Fisher Hall. The guest conductor was James Conlon. Mr. Serkin played stiffly and percussively, as he tends to do – but it did this piece no harm. He spent much of his time onstage pounding stoically, as you might find in Prokofiev. Mr. Serkin’s commitment to Mr. Lieberson – and to other contemporary composers – is touching.

Mr. Conlon is a favorite conductor in New York, although most of his work takes place elsewhere. In the next couple of seasons, he will assume the directorships of the Ravinia Festival in Chicago and the Los Angeles Opera. After intermission on Saturday night, he led the Philharmonic in Mahler’s Symphony No. 1, commonly known as the “Titan.” It was not a performance by which he would want to be judged.

The work began with carefulness, without the right tension. It was sloppy, too. Ugly sounds came from the brass and woodwinds, and this was not an ugliness that was musically helpful. Principal trumpeter Philip Smith, however, could make no ugly sounds. And the horn section – led by Philip Myers – would play well later.

In this first movement, what should be warm and beautiful, was not. And what should be jolly or tart, was not. The (multifaceted) Mahlerian character of this music was missing. Mr. Conlon conducted in pedestrian fashion, and he managed something you would have thought impossible – to make this symphony’s first movement dull.

The second movement was little better. The notes were there, but where was the swagger, where was the flair? The third movement begins with Mahler’s minorized, and otherwise weirded-up, “Frere Jacques.” The Philharmonic’s principal double-bass player, Eugene Levinson, played this well, as did the woodwind principals who followed him. Further on, the lovely, transporting G-major section might have been many times lovelier and more transporting. Again, there was Mr. Conlon’s carefulness.

The final movement began with appropriate ferocity, and the conductor phrased and paced much of it intelligently. On the whole, however, it was overly tight, airless – without much sweep. The New York Philharmonic is a great and storied Mahler orchestra, but this fact was not in evidence two nights ago.

I wish to end, however, with this observation: The concert that Mr. Conlon led at Carnegie Hall last month, with the Montreal Symphony Orchestra and Chorus (the program was all Russian)? One of the best of the season, so far.