On Saturday, the New York Philharmonic took a little trip. No, not to North Korea — that comes next month. To a more benign place: Greenvale, Long Island. The orchestra played at the Tilles Center for the Performing Arts, which is on the C.W. Post Campus of Long Island University. And the auditorium, which holds about 2,000 people, sold out. Quite possibly, many more Long Islanders would have liked to attend.

Too bad classical music is dead, as we’re constantly and tiresomely told.

Maestro Lorin Maazel led a program of Mendelssohn, Mozart, and Elgar, and he began with Mendelssohn’s Overture to “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” He put extended pauses between the opening chords, and those pauses were more awkward than natural. Also, there was flubbing from the horn section early — and that was good, in a way. Horns will flub sooner or later, and we might as well get it over with.

In the body of the overture, the orchestra was decently together, and its texture was decently light, or Mendelssohnian. It was not exactly gossamer, however. And while Mr. Maazel gave an intelligent reading, he might have included more mystery, more allure — more wide-eyed wonder. Also, he contributed — or continued to contribute — stiff shapings. Odd that such shapings could come from the most beautiful and fluid baton technique in world history.

After the overture, we had more Mendelssohn, namely the Violin Concerto. Its soloist was Viviane Hagner, a young German. And a funny thing happened a few measures into the concerto: Mr. Maazel had begun with one tempo, and Ms. Hagner immediately slowed it, on her entrance. Mr. Maazel quickly complied. What a strange, unmusical, and unnecessary way to begin. As she played, Ms. Hagner produced a sweet, warm tone, with especially pleasing low notes: They were smooth and baritonal. But some high notes were sickly, as well as sweet. The main problem with the first movement was that Ms. Hagner was rather limp, uninspired, routine — a little boring, frankly. She could have used far more incisiveness, a sense of command. Also, her intonation was shaky — poor, actually.

Mr. Maazel added incisiveness where he could, countering a soupy limpness with marcato. And Ms. Hagner, it must be said, came through in Mendelssohn’s cadenza — where she indeed displayed command.

She was adequate in the Andante, although more body of tone would have been lovely. Also, her music-making was too demure, needing more sweep. The lovable, liquid finale went okay, although there was not much polish or style. What persisted was that sense of routineness — of “Another day, another Mendelssohn Concerto.” Mr. Maazel hardly bothered to take his left arm off the rail behind him. I think he kind of gave in to ennui.

Ms. Hagner has a lot going for her: She is a strikingly beautiful woman, which never hurts in the music biz, as in other fields. (She looks a little like Martha Argerich, c. 1968.) And she obviously has ability. But if you’re going to play a staple like the Mendelssohn Concerto, you had better play it winningly — to the full.

After intermission, Philip Myers, the orchestra’s principal French horn player, came out to play a concerto by Mozart, God’s gift to hornists (as to everyone else). Mozart wrote four concertos for the instrument, and Mr. Myers gave us the one the composer wrote when he was 17: No. 2 in E flat.

He did not play his best, and he did not play his worst. The first movement was a mixture of the mediocre and the excellent. Mr. Myers was sometimes blunt and unnuanced, making a handsome sound, but one lacking in pliancy. Elsewhere, he was all artistry. I might mention that Mr. Myers committed the error of many musicians: He rushed some passage-work.

The middle movement (Andante), Maestro Maazel shaped beautifully, with natural breaths. And Mr. Myers pretty much joined him in this. In the closing Rondo, our soloist did not play with maximum nimbleness or delight, and he again rushed some passage-work. But he was good enough. And many of his Philharmonic colleagues applauded him with what seemed extraordinary affection.

The program ended with an orchestral essay that Mr. Maazel should really eat up: the “Enigma” Variations by Elgar. And, indeed, Mr. Maazel demonstrated musicianship of a very high caliber. He knows this score, he knows an orchestra — he knows how to conduct. But he was in a rather subdued mood. Everything was straightforward, or matter-of-fact, or understated — which sometimes proved extremely effective.

Take the famous Nimrod Variation: It was unmilked and unbloated; it was unusually gentle, or, better, thoughtful.

What was missing from the work as a whole was some theatricality, some charisma — even a little milking. A little showmanship. As I said, Mr. Maazel was subdued. The “Enigma” Variations may be the quintessential British piece — British orchestral piece — but you can take British reserve too far. By rights, the audience would have been wowed, but instead they clapped politely and quickly left. There was no encore on this out-of-town jaunt.

Tonight, Lorin Maazel is back in the city, conducting Wagner’s “Walküre” at the Metropolitan Opera. Wagnerians, Maazelians, and everyone else should hope he brings his A game. Even his B game would supply a memorable experience.