Serving as guest conductor of the New York Philharmonic last week was an up-‘n’-comer: Jonathan Nott, a 40-something Englishman. He created a stir last May when he brought to New York the two orchestras with which he’s most closely affiliated: the Bamberg Symphony (Germany), of which he’s principal conductor, and the Ensemble Intercontemporain (Paris), of which he’s principal guest conductor. With both groups, Mr. Nott performed a lot of Ligeti – the music of the Hungarian-born composer Gyorgy Ligeti – and, in this town, Ligeti is next to godliness. Give ’em Ligeti, and the critics will be at your feet. In any case, Mr. Nott conducted well, earning his plaudits.

He is a smart musician, energetic, lithe on the podium. And he proved that way in his concert with the Philharmonic Thursday night. The sole orchestral work was Strauss’s “Alpine Symphony” – not known as the most profound piece in the composer’s catalogue, but ever enjoyable, and a showpiece for orchestra. Strauss depicts a daylong journey up and down an Alp. Conductors often fail in this piece, because it’s a rather messy piece – sprawling – and they have trouble managing it. Mr. Nott did not fail. He kept the orchestra together, and that orchestra played well. Of course there were mistakes here and there, but that is nearly inevitable. Especially good were the oboe and the French horn, soloing beautifully.

Before this performance began, a fellow critic of mine remarked, “I hope it’s fast and loud” – it was. Mr. Nott’s interpretation was undawdling, driven, but not madly so. The music always had a current running through it, allowing no stasis. And loud, yes – very loud! Mr. Nott could have used more variation in dynamics, but at least he wasn’t precious. This is not the piece for that. Still another critic said, afterward, “If he keeps this up, he’ll be deaf by the time he’s 50.” Perhaps Mr. Nott could rehearse with earplugs.

I’d like to make an artistic note, or quasiartistic note: The “Alpine Symphony” employs a huge instrumentation, including lots of percussion. Among those instruments is a thunder sheet – and that strip of silver metal (or whatever),hanging at the back of Avery Fisher Hall’s stage, looked amazingly cool. It might have been a piece of modern art.

And a note about one of Mr. Nott’s podium moves? He has an array of them. In the final pages of the symphony, he showed off a kind of swimming motion – he was swimming his way through to the conclusion. I’m no foe of podium theatrics, but, even for me, this was a little de trop.

The first half of the program – the Strauss occupied the second – had belonged to John Corigliano, and to Joshua Bell. Mr. Corigliano has composed three film scores: for “Altered States” (1980), “Revolution” (1985), and “The Red Violin” (1998). This last movie was preposterous, in my opinion – although I shouldn’t tread on the film critics’ turf – with Samuel L. Jackson as the world’s foremost violin appraiser. One of the most memorable things about the movie was a cameo appearance by Joshua Bell, sitting in some orchestra. (When was the last time that happened!) Mr. Corigliano’s score won the Academy Award, and he fashioned from that score a piece for violin and orchestra: a chaconne, duly performed and recorded by Mr. Bell.

From that chaconne, Mr. Corigliano then composed a full-length violin concerto (perhaps too full-length: At about 40 minutes, it feels long to me). The formal title of this piece is Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, “The Red Violin.” It received its New York premiere on Thursday night.

It is far from Mr. Corigliano’s best work. It’s busy, bombastic, and tiresomely episodic. The piece sounds very much like movie music, which makes sense. You know there’s a program there – a story, a drama – but, without pictures, you can’t be sure what it is. We know only that it considers itself urgent. The music is basically Romantic, with some modern touches – intrusive percussion, irregular rhythms, those blips so prized by today’s composers. The first movement, like the rest of the concerto, is what you call “exciting.” But this is largely a superficial excitement, in my view. What I mean is: There’s a lot of churning, a lot of action, but the excitement seems more forced than inherent, natural.

The second movement – a scherzo – is fleet, squirmy, jazzy. This is probably the most reasonably conceived and most successful of the movements. The third movement – the slow movement – is pleasantly sad, and a bit soupy. Common-sounding. The finale is frenetic, although it stops for what sounds like a love theme. The movement, and the concerto, ends with a quick, ascending gesture from the violin, as a previous movement had. This is incredibly common in modern violin pieces.

Mr. Corigliano has dedicated his concerto to his father, John Corigliano Sr., who was concertmaster of the New York Philharmonic, from 1943 to 1966. (He died in 1975.) We should remember that John Jr.’s first mature work – published in 1963 – was a violin sonata, famously recorded by his father. In my judgment, the sonata is a much better piece than the concerto. Indeed, it’s one of the best violin sonatas in the American repertoire. But certain violinists will enjoy, even relish, playing the concerto.

As Mr. Bell seemed to. He displayed his many tonal colors, his nose for phrasing, and his fabulous fingers. If you write a cinematic concerto, by all means give it to Mr. Bell. (You can give him other things, too.) His intonation was less sure than it usually is, with some flat notes affronting the ear – but these errors were small. Mr. Bell might have deigned to memorize the piece, but others regard this as neither here nor there.

And what about Mr. Nott? He seemed to have a clear handle on the score, selling it like mad. We will see this fellow, this up-‘n’-comer, again – maybe after he’s up and come.