By now, readers in New York must be sick of hearing music writers whine about the absence of James Levine. The music director of the Metropolitan Opera – and of the Boston Symphony Orchestra – took a tumble on March 1. He injured his shoulder, wiping out the rest of his season. Ever since, it’s been, “James Levine was supposed to conduct this, and his absence was felt”; “James Levine was supposed to conduct that, and his absence was felt.”

Well, I’m going to hit you one more time (at least): On Monday night, the Metropolitan Opera began a run of Wagner’s “Lohengrin,” in the Robert Wilson production of 1998. Mr. Levine was supposed to conduct. And it was a shame to miss him, in an opera he handles magnificently. But we had a satisfactory performance nonetheless.

Substituting for Mr. Levine was the French conductor Philippe Auguin. He has substituted for the Met maestro before. In the 2000-01 season, Mr. Levine was supposed to conduct Busoni’s “Doktor Faust,” but succumbed to sciatica. Mr. Auguin stepped in and did a credible job – more than credible, actually.

In “Lohengrin,” he had a bad beginning. The Prelude could hardly have been worse. It was labored, self-conscious, imprecise. A steadier pulse would have been lovely. The rest of Act I was passable, but it didn’t really beguile or stir – except at the very end: Mr. Auguin built the act’s concluding chorus ably.

Act II began as it should have: with smooth unison playing, breathing naturally. Mr. Auguin would have other fine moments as well. For example, the tense dialogue between Telramund and Ortrud, those horrible schemers, had the proper undercurrent. Later, Wagner’s stately choruses were intelligently paced.

“Lohengrin” has a second prelude – that to Act III. This is one of the most ecstatic, exuberant, and exciting things in music. Under Mr. Auguin, it was far too blunt and blustery – also a little loose. But Mr. Auguin proceeded with assurance, and he finished with honor. Chances are, performances will improve as this run continues.

The Met’s cast was stocked with experienced and capable Wagnerians. In the main roles of Lohengrin and Elsa were Ben Heppner, the Canadian tenor, and Karita Mattila, the Finnish soprano. They have been the leading figures in these roles for about a decade.

An amazing variety of sounds issues from Mr. Heppner’s mouth: some of the most beautiful you have ever heard, some of the most unbeautiful. He plays a gleaming trumpet; and then, suddenly, the trumpet goes all kerplooie. We heard just about the entire range of Mr. Heppner’s sounds on Monday night. Mainly, however, he sang confidently and well. He suffered some scary flatness in Act II, but soon recovered. His rendering of the aria “In fernem Land” was very good: communicating both intimacy and grandness, as Wagner requires.

And may I say this: Mr. Heppner is a hefty man (although he has been much heftier in the past). But he looked princely, magnificent, as he rode in on his swan.

As I indicated, Ms. Mattila pretty much owns the role of Elsa (or co-owns it with Deborah Voigt). But she was not at her best on Monday night, certainly in Act I. Her pitch was sharp and her sound was unfocused. Ms. Mattila is prey to those errors. But she soon settled down and gave the audience its money’s worth. This is a woman who knows how to convey Elsa’s innocence and purity; and her weakness and guilt.

And how about Telramund and Ortrud, our story’s “companions in shame”? The American baritone Richard Paul Fink was effective in the

former role, putting his heart into it, showing some of the character’s anguish. (Ortrud is a less hand-wringing villain.) Mr. Fink’s singing was occasionally rough and stentorian, but never incompetent. And he gives you a pleasurable German.

Ortrud was portrayed by the American soprano Luana DeVol, a veteran singer only now making her Metropolitan Opera debut. She was a tasty Ortrud. Her voice was dusky and often scalding. Ms. DeVol showed a powerful top, with a generous vibrato, although not a ridiculous one: She controlled her voice. Her phrasing was consistently smart. And, theatrically, her villainy was of a particularly snaky kind.

I wish you could have heard Ortrud’s supplication to her gods – horrifying.

Scheduled to sing the part of King Henry was Stephen West, an American bass-baritone, but he was indisposed. Coming in for him – and making his Met debut – was the British bass Andrew Greenan. He did not sound entirely disposed himself. His singing tended to be stiff and shaky, and, during Henry’s prayer, he seemed about to crash. But he hung gamely on. He will have better nights.

Serving as the Herald was the German baritone Eike Wilm Schulte, an excellent Klingsor (“Parsifal”), an excellent Beckmesser (“Die Meistersinger”).As usual, he gave us a clear stream of sound, with minimal barking. His pitch was not always spot-on, but it was good enough.

The Met found an ideal-looking boy to walk on as Gottfried – a boy with the amazing name of Lance Chantilles-Wertz. His golden ringlets were straight out of … well, “Lohengrin.”

As you may be aware, Robert Wilson’s production is not to everyone’s taste. It is slow-moving, stylized, kabuki-like. How singers keep from stiffening up, in those frozen positions, I don’t know. But it makes an impact – an impact slow in coming, but powerful when it hits. And the use of light here is affecting. Frederic Spotts’s program essay reminds us that Thomas Mann referred to the “silvery-blue beauty” of Wagner’s score. We actually see that beauty.

We did not see, or hear, James Levine on this occasion. But, ultimately, the star of any Wagner performance is Wagner. The old devil’s still got it, and always will.

“Lohengrin” will be performed again on April 20, 24 & 29 and May 3 & 6 at the Metropolitan Opera House (Lincoln Center, 212-362-6000).