Have you noticed that orchestral concerts tend to consist of a couple of big pieces? Seldom do we get a real variety show, an assortment of, say, four pieces. But that is exactly what the New York Philharmonic gave us on Thursday night: an eclectic program of music by Mozart, Schumann, Wagner, and Gershwin. And the concert began and ended in Paris.

Now, when I said “Wagner,” I was kidding a little, because I was referring to Melinda Wagner, the American composer born in 1957. (How she must be sick of such kidding!) Last season, we heard her “Four Settings” for soprano and chamber ensemble under the auspices of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center. That is a creditable work. And, on Thursday night, we heard another creditable work when the Philharmonic premiered her trombone concerto. This is an instrument of many possibilities, and Ms. Wagner explores them.

Her concerto is in three movements, headed “Satyr,” “Elemental Things,” and “Catch.” That first movement is ominous, spooky, very busy, a little jazzy, loaded with percussion — in other words, like everything written, certainly in America, over the last umpteen years. Don’t these guys ever want to veer off? But Ms. Wagner’s music is not run-of-the-mill: It is interesting and attention-keeping. And she does an especially fine job of knitting the solo instrument and the orchestra together.

I should say, too, that the first movement contains a wonderful cadenza, which has to be a kick to play.

The second movement bears a striking marking: “Lush and dangerous.” It includes those forest sounds, those night sounds — again, spooky — that we always hear, in just about every piece. But this music builds with admirable tension.

And how about that last movement, “Catch”? I expected it to be … well, a catchy rondo. Instead, it is more like an angry scherzo, and somewhat traumatizing. In my view — and I realize it’s not my piece — the concerto could use a bit of a smile, to end on. No one would think Ms. Wagner the less serious for writing with a smile. No one worth listening to, that is.

The soloist in the work was the man for whom it was written: the Philharmonic’s principal trombone, Joseph Alessi. He is a firstrate instrumentalist, with a clear, elegant sound — rounded and unblaring — and gobs of technique. Also, he has a sense of how music should go (to put it most simply). It was a pleasure to hear him play Ms. Wagner’s challenging concerto. I spoke of the possibilities of the trombone: Mr. Alessi shows them to us, in full.

And Lorin Maazel conducted the work with a sure hand. The composer could not have asked for a better premiere.

The concert had begun with a work that Mozart wrote in 1778, while in Paris: his Concerto in C for flute and harp. The soloists were Mr. Alessi’s fellow principals Robert Langevin (flute) and Nancy Allen (harp). They are distinguished players, and they played competently (although Mr. Langevin sounded flat of pitch from time to time). But the performance was rather charmless and stolid, from everybody, including Mr. Maazel. The first movement was unobjectionable, but not engaging. The second movement lacked grace, and also forward momentum: It was oddly planted. The rondo burbled decently.

In all, this account suffered from the quality of okayness. And Mozart’s flute-and-harp concerto may not be his best work ever — but it’s far less dull than the Philharmonic let on.

Following Mozart was a Schumann work, the Concertstück in F for four horns. And those horns were led by the Philharmonic’s first-chair, Philip Myers. He and his colleagues played with confidence and correctness. And that is hardly to be sneered at. But they were also a little blustery and unyielding — hard-charging, bull-like. Moreover, they tended to rush.

Let me emphasize that this was not a bad performance. It was manful, no-nonsense — but not what you would call terribly musical.

The evening ended with Gershwin’s “American in Paris.” This is one of Mr. Maazel’s favorite composers, and one of his favorite pieces, I believe: He turns to it often. Along with his colleague and contemporary André Previn, Mr. Maazel is the best Gershwin interpreter we have. And he was as he usually is in Gershwin’s “rhapsodic ballet,” as the composer called it: urbane and suave; French and American; logical and musical. He has done this piece more excitingly and alluringly, but, still, he was damn good.