The music world loves an anniversary – they’ll celebrate the 135th anniversary of Vincent d’Indy’s first whisker – and New York has a biggie this fall: the 100th anniversary of the Juilliard School. Originally known as the Institute of Musical Art, the school opened its doors on October 11, 1905. Brahms had been dead for only eight years; Gershwin was 7 years old. It wasn’t too long before Juilliard became one of the great conservatories in the world. They celebrated on Tuesday – October 11, 2005 – with cake in the morning (that was in the school’s lobby) and a concert at night (that was in Carnegie Hall).

According to one testimony, the cake wasn’t very good. The concert, on the other hand, was quite good.

It was given by the Juilliard Orchestra, conducted by Dennis Russell Davies. Mr. Davies is chief of the Bruckner Orchestra Linz, among other institutions. He will bring that Linz orchestra to Avery Fisher Hall next month. He has also devoted much of his career to contemporary music – being a cofounder, for example, of the American Composers Orchestra. But he has proven himself able in all sorts of music. And he is – perhaps this is most pertinent in the present context – a graduate of the Juilliard School.

The concert began with Webern’s Six Pieces for Orchestra, composed four years after Juilliard was founded. And you have to ask, “How much allowance should one make for a student orchestra?” That is, “How much slack should one cut them, given their nonprofessional status?” You don’t have to cut them much.

The Webern pieces require alertness, simplicity, musical poise. All of these qualities were present. The power of these pieces lies in their quietude, and disquietude. That power was felt. Mr. Davies understands this music, and he built the pieces hauntingly. The orchestra was gratifyingly precise, not botching anything, really. Every solo performer stepped up to the plate. I should single out the French-horn player, who was brave and accurate.

The orchestra continued with a new work, commissioned for the occasion: This was “Manhattan Trilogy,” by Einojuhani Rautavaara (born 1928). Mr. Rautavaara, too, was a student at Juilliard. But he started out in Finland, where – age 90 – Sibelius selected him for a study grant. That grant sent Mr. Rautavaara to Tanglewood, in Massachusetts, where he learned from Copland and Sessions. Then he went to Juilliard (Sessions, again, and Persichetti). His “Manhattan Trilogy” is based on the time he spent in this city. Its movements are entitled Daydreams, Nightmares, and Dawn.

That first movement is, indeed, utterly dreamy, and lush, and Sibelius-like (in parts). A gorgeous melody is heard in the woodwinds, and elsewhere, and then we have the impression of an organ, and of a chorale. This work might be dubbed “neo-Romantic,” but it is tinged with atonality. The orchestra seemed to embrace the music, and that French horn was again brave, unflubbing. I know more than a few professional orchestras who could use him (or her – I didn’t quite see)!

Mr. Rautavaara’s second movement – Nightmares – is duly turbulent, a wrestle. But then we burst through to Dawn, and release. Mr. Rautavaara’s music reminded me that many composers have written welcome, warming dawns (Ravel, for instance, in “Daphnis and Chloe”). I will pay to “Manhattan Trilogy” one of the very highest compliments you can pay to a new work of music: I’d like to hear it again.

After intermission, the orchestra played a work you have heard many, many times: Schubert’s Symphony No. 9, the “Great.” You may ask yourself, “Why? Was it really necessary for this orchestra to tackle such a huge, monumental, taxing work?” Actually, it turned out pretty well.

The piece begins with an extended French-horn solo, and how did my guy (or gal) do? He/she fudged the first note, just slightly, but was solid thereafter. Mr. Davies was solid, too: He delivered a well-managed “Great,” combining verve and refinement. That was certainly true of the first movement, which was wonderfully fresh and exciting. The second, too, was excellent, and unusually incisive. But the third movement – the Scherzo – suffered some looseness, and the Trio could have used a fuller sound. The Finale, frankly, was a bit limp, routine: Its pounding C-major ending was without its breathtaking majesty. It’s not easy to stay focused in this symphony, with its “heavenly length” (the phrase is Schumann’s). But, throughout the concert, the Juilliard Orchestra had done itself proud.

The school’s founder, Frank Damrosch, wanted a place where Americans could study – why should they have to go abroad, to learn music? Now the world – all of it – beats a path to the doors of American conservatories. In most respects, classical music in this country is robust. Don’t mention it, though, or you’ll be thought of as a rube or ignoramus. There are a great many people invested in the Death of Classical Music. Do not disturb them. They will die, and classical music will go on, and they will never have to know that they were silly.

Go, Juilliard.