For now, second fiddle

Alfred WALLENSTEIN (cello), Eduard van Beinum (violin), Zubin Mehta (bass), Carlo Maria Giulini (viola), Andre Previn (piano), Esa-Pekka Salonen (horn), Gustavo Dudamel (violin).

These are the Los Angeles Philharmonic music directors since 1943 and their instruments. Previn is a famed soloist who played chamber music with the musicians. For the rest, the baton pretty much replaced horsehair and mouthpiece as their appliance for producing sound.

Maybe that won’t be the case for the last name on the list. Dudamel, still technically the music director-designate, studied violin as a child and performed in youth orchestras in Venezuela. And at Walt Disney Concert Hall on Wednesday night, for his first appearance with the Philharmonic since his appointment, he picked up the fiddle once more and played second violin in Mozart’s Clarinet Quintet in a Philharmonic Chamber Music Society concert.

His role couldn’t have been more modest. But no matter. This was also Angelenos’ first opportunity to catch a glimpse of him since his inspiring appearances with the Simon Bolivar Youth Orchestra last fall and the recent “60 Minutes” feature on him. Dudamel was on the premises, and that is all it took.

The hall was packed and abuzz. The cafe was overwhelmed. The parking lot was gridlocked. Ushers had to be on their toes, stopping fans from snapping photos of the young superstar when he finally took the stage after intermission (including a fan who happened to be Mrs. Dudamel). The mood was merry, infectious.

Practicality probably had much to do with Dudamel’s minor musical role in this concert. Hugely in demand as a conductor, he hardly has time to practice. Last week, he made his debut as a guest conductor with the San Francisco Symphony. This week and next he leads the L.A. Philharmonic. No doubt he needed something not challenging (but also not superficial) to play Wednesday.

But equally important was the chamber music gesture. Dudamel may be a 27-year-old with a once-in-a-generation (or two, or three) musical gift, but he still has everything to learn about running a major orchestra. Performing in public in a deferential role with much more experienced first-desk players is an optimal way for a conductor to get acquainted quick.

Mozart’s Clarinet Quintet is a winning vehicle for such bonding. Commentators like to speculate about how the score might reflect a year of illness, death and financial woes that troubled Mozart in 1789. There is the romantic notion that through transcendent music, he exchanged pain for a higher, spiritual plain. I think he was in love with the clarinet, and love transcends all.

That, at least, was what Wednesday’s warm, cloudless performance suggested. Michele Zukovsky was the superb clarinetist, and she exuded a clarinetist’s delight at a musical love letter to her instrument. She sometimes made the kind of slight decorations to her lines that early music authorities insist upon, but she did so with a sense of spontaneity, as if she were wrapping herself around tender, heart-melting melody.

As for Dudamel: Can he play? Yes. He appears a natural with the violin. But even to say his participation in this concert was modest overstates the case.

In fact, the only way for the second violin to get noticed in this quintet is to screw up. If the intonation isn’t precise, if the playing doesn’t fit perfectly into the woodwork, that could sour everything else. This was instead a creamy, smooth performance.

The other players were concertmaster Martin Chalifour, violinist Dale Hikawa Silverman and cellist Peter Stumpf. Dudamel watched them, followed them, was as one with them. He smiled a lot. Everyone smiled a lot. Sad music -- if it is sad music -- never sounded happier.

For the first half of the program, Mozart’s String Quintet in C major served as the Clarinet Quintet’s companion piece. It featured Mitchell Newman, Robert Vijay Gupta, Ingrid Hutman, Meredith Snow and Gloria Lum. Their approach was quick and sleek. I would have opted for something less stylistically apt and more robust, given the size of Disney and also the nature of the large, enthusiastic audience, many of whom were clearly at their first chamber concert. Still, the playing sounded good.

The evening opened with a silly version of Strauss’ orchestral tone poem “Till Eulenspiegel,” a “musical grotesque” for five instruments by one Franz Hasenohrl. He is possibly an obscure ancestor of, but not nearly as funny as, P.D.Q. Bach.

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