Without doubt, the most significant world premiere in the history of New York concerts was that of Antonin Dvorak’s Symphony “From the New World.” In his own city of Prague, however, Dvorak is eclipsed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, in particular by the premiere of “Don Giovanni” in 1787. At the Mostly Mozart Festival on Tuesday evening, we were treated to an evening of music from Vienna’s historically significant neighboring city, where new works were often tried out like Broadway shows once were in New Haven.

In his pre-concert lecture, Professor Michael Beckerman of NYU discussed the hospitable reception afforded Wolfgang in the provincial capital of Bohemia – a sharp contrast to his insignificant and debt-ridden status back home. Employing both piano and iPod, Beckerman pointed out the phrases and devices common to the music that we were about to hear. The opening of “Don Giovanni” is remarkably similar on the printed page to that of the “Prague” Symphony No. 38, which was composed while Mozart was in town to attend a performance of his “Marriage of Figaro.” The stirringly revolutionary theme from the Piano Concerto No. 25 has as its genesis the “Viva la liberta” section of “Giovanni,” sung by Donna Anna, Donna Elvira, and Don Ottavio as masked revelers. In fact, all four of the works on the ensuing program were, if not written in Prague, at least composed in the same brief period of time that encompassed the rehearsals for the Don’s storied premiere.

It was substitution night at Avery Fisher as young Czech conductor Tomas Hanus took over for originally scheduled maestro Adam Fischer. Since the orchestra had been prepared by music director Louis Langree, the playing was technically impressive and expertly blended, but Mr. Hanus, barely more than an aspirant at this juncture, seemed to be following along rather than leading. In the purely instrumental pieces, there was little dramatic tension and, considering that one of those pieces was the overture to “Don Giovanni,” that left a rather large, unfulfilled gap. Based on this matter-of-fact overture – which appeared to be passionless, a bit stodgy, and stilted – I am not sure that I would have wanted to stay for the ensuing opera. Even the stone guest was non-threatening.

At least there was some consistency to the lukewarm nature of the evening, as pianist Louis Lortie was on hand for the Concerto K. 503. Our own Jay Nordlinger is in Salzburg this week, but if he had been in attendance at Lincoln Center on this particular evening, he might very well have pronounced this concert as suffering from a high degree of “okayness.” Mr. Lortie’s pianism is technically competent but rather uninspired. The normally noble phrases of the concerto passed by as if unremarkable. The playing was neither delicate nor subtle, but simply understated. There was little or no majesty, only a sense that everything was in its proper place, however dull that might ultimately be for the listener. Mr. Lortie composed his own cadenza, which seemed to be emblematic of his style of play as a whole. The entire solo passage was comfortable and logical, but not especially interesting or revelatory.

The other young substitute was the brave but perhaps foolhardy Canadian-American soprano Erin Wall, who filled in after Mireille Delunsch withdrew because of illness. Ms. Wall recently covered for Karita Mattila in Chicago Lyric’s “Don Giovanni” – see how this all comes full circle? – but was severely overmatched in the Mozart concert aria “Bella mia fiamma … Resta, o cara” this night. These Mozart concert arias represent a form that is long out of fashion. They constitute a full-blown opera highlight, with all of the requisite difficulties, but there is no opera built around them. Wolfgang tossed them off with sadistic glee, in this case while sitting around in Prague between rehearsals of the Don, and cared little for the human frailties of the singers and their all too mortal tessituras. For Mozart there was no soprano, no mezzo, no contralto. There was only a female.

To attempt to fill in with such a monster was probably short-sighted. In retrospect, Ms. Wall might have chosen a more manageable piece and no one would have thought the lesser of her. As it stood, however, she was never able to center herself properly for this heroic recitative and aria and floundered badly throughout. Her voice would occasionally lapse into shrillness, and often her grace notes were decidedly flat. Even her volume was inconsistent. These fluctuations were not the result of intelligent dynamics but rather sounded like a radio signal that maddeningly comes and goes at will. I seemed to detect some understandable nervousness as well, and, let’s face it, she received little help from a young conductor who was just following her off of that Mozartean precipice. The good news is that both of these courageous artists are just starting out. They will learn to pick their assignments with a little more perspicacity as they mature.