He has the kind of heartthrob looks that give ticket and record sales that extra boost, but Dmitri Hvorostovsky has steadfastly resisted pressure to cross over into the realm of pop music. The whole concept of crossover, the great Siberian baritone has repeatedly let it be known, leaves him cold. Why divert energy from his ever-expanding repertory of operatic roles or his work on the concert stage?

The first half of Mr. Hvorostovsky’s Avery Fisher Hall concert tomorrow with the Philharmonia of Russia, Constantine Orbelian conducting, will find him on familiar terrain: arias from Russian operas. But the second half will consist of Russian songs from the World War II era that have a distinctly – one almost hesitates to say it – popular appeal.

“These are songs that every Russian knows and that younger generations grew up with,” Mr. Hvorostovsky said in a telephone interview last week from Washington, D.C., an earlier stop on his “war song” tour.

The songs supplied spiritual and emotional sustenance to a populace that suffered horrific losses during what Russians call the Great Patriotic War. “The war touched everybody hard,” Mr. Hvorostovsky said. “Every family lost a member, literally.”

Mr. Hvorostovsky’s grandfather was killed in the war, and his grandmother remarried a veteran. “He was a major and proud of his epaulets and medals,” which inspired in young Dmitri a typical boyhood fascination, the singer said. “I can never remember a time when I didn’t know these songs.”

This is new repertoire for Western listeners, though the secret is already out for those who know Mr. Hvorostovsky’s 2003 CD “Where Are You, My Brothers?” and its successor, “Moscow Nights.” But the songs continue to stir emotions in Russia today, as Messrs. Hvorostovsky and Orbelian demonstrated last spring in marking the 60th anniversary of the end of the war. As well as performing to a Kremlin audience that included 53 heads of state, they took the songs to seven “hero cities” such as Leningrad (now St. Petersburg) and Stalingrad (now Volgograd) that were the scene of important wartime action.

The concert in Smolensk was especially memorable, according to Mr. Orbelian, an American of Armenian and Russian descent. “Smolensk was the site of incredible resistance by a battalion of 500 women soldiers that kept the Germans at bay,” he said by phone from Washington, D.C. Their legendary story was turned into an opera, “And the Dawns Here Are Quiet,” by Kirill Molchanov, which provided one of the songs Mr. Hvorostovsky sings, “Wait for Me.”

“When we performed in Smolensk,” Mr. Orbelian said, “30 surviving women from the battalion were seated in the first row of the amphitheater, and their leader, who is about 90, addressed the audience. It was the most touching thing ever.”

The songs date from a time when the gulf between popular and classical styles was narrower than it is today. Indeed, many share characteristics with Russian art songs – a heavy reliance on the minor mode, for instance, or the use of similar melodic formulas. They have the soulful, brooding quality that makes Russian music distinctive.

Like Molchanov, most of the composers are not well known. Not all the songs date from World War II; one goes back to the Russo-Japanese War. Given the nature of Soviet society, protest songs are not represented, yet it is hard to listen to some without sensing the futility of war. Most celebrate bravery, friendship, and loved ones back home, and they are heavy with nostalgia.

“It is important not to be afraid to show a vulnerable side,” Mr. Hvorostovsky said of his approach to them. He sings the songs in arrangements by Evgeny Stetsyuk, which also employ a chorus and folk instruments. “Our versions are totally different from what people are used to,” Mr. Orbelian noted.

According to Mr. Orbelian, the idea of performing war songs was born over dinner after a recording session in Moscow. “We started thinking about new repertoire and I said, ‘How about songs from the World War II era? You could sing them like no one else.’ Dmitri replied, ‘They are fine songs, but I don’t sing them,’ as if to say, ‘You’re not going to make a pop singer out of me!’ I dropped the subject, but the same day he phoned and suggested 30 possible songs.”

Both men were apprehensive about how Western audiences would react to the songs, but judging from reports of their concerts in Los Angeles and Washington, they needn’t have worried. “Clearly, there were a lot of Russians in the Los Angeles audience,” Mr. Orbelian said, “because applause of recognition would break out at the start of a song. It was almost like a rock concert.”

“You can’t predict an audience’s response, but clearly there is a certain code of tragedy and loss that is common to all humanity,” Mr. Hvorostovsky said. “Yes, you could say I’ve found my form of crossover – crossing over not just musical styles but generations and national borders as well.”

Dmitri Hvorostovsky will perform with the Philharmonia of Russia on January 25 at Avery Fisher Hall (Lincoln Center, 212-875-5656).