The "tantalize" was courtesy of young Thai composer Narong Prangcharoen, whose evocative work, "Tri-Sattawat," received its world premiere at the concerts. This short piece adeptly combines the tonal attributes of a Western symphony orchestra with the sounds of traditional Asian music, including an array of authentic Thai percussion instruments, complete with gongs, bells and the like. Beginning with very high notes on the bassoon, the music gradually unfolds like the petals of an exotic flower until the entire orchestra picks up the fragments of sound and weaves them into a varied tapestry that challenges the ear with its many melodic threads.

For such a delicately crafted piece, there were surprisingly strong brass and percussion undertones, and these served to accentuate the intricacy of the music played by the strings. One could pick up little touches that resembled the work of other composers (I heard Stravinsky, Ligeti and Maurice Jarre in its enticing and unusual sounds - but my ears are strange anyway), yet the aggregate impression of the work was emphatically an individualistic expression of celebration by a composer who definitely has something to say in his music.

The "laughter" was ably provided by that most comedic of opera composers, Gioacchino Rossini. His overture to the opera "La Scala di Seta" under the sure direction by Mr. Novo was like the foam on top of a cup of cappuccino - sweet, frothy and containing no real substance, but something you'd assuredly miss if it weren't there.

The key to the performance was the crisp articulation by the strings. This is an attribute of the ASO I've commented on before, and just as it was critical in establishing the mood of Shostakovich's 10th Symphony last season, the precision in the playing lets all of Rossini's comedic genius shine: Nothing is blurred nor sounds hurried, and that's how the music should go. I took particular note of the wonderfully controlled crescendo that Mr. Novo built during the piece, as this enhanced the charm of this lustrous performance.

The "tears" of the concert were represented by Sir Edward Elgar's elegiac Cello Concerto with highly acclaimed soloist Julie Albers. I've been making a mental list of "Things the Annapolis Symphony Does Really, Really Well" (incidentally, the list keeps growing longer), and one of the entries is "provides beautiful and collaborative accompaniments to good soloists."

I have frequently noted just how able an orchestral accompanist Mr. Novo is: There are conductors who view the soloist as little more than an intruder in the orchestra's sonic domain, just as there are conductors who subordinate the orchestra to the soloist to the point that you think you're listening to a solo performance minus orchestra. Mr. Novo takes neither approach. He and his soloists clearly understand that the composer intended the concerto as a collaborative undertaking, and that while the solo instrument takes center stage, it must work its musical magic against a strongly profiled background of discernible orchestral playing.

This approach worked magnificently in the ASO's performance of the Elgar concerto, but what made it special was the illustrious character of Ms. Albers' solo work. Unlike Jacqueline du Pre, who helped put this concerto on the musical map with her highly emotional, "take-no-prisoners" approach, Ms. Albers illuminates a more restrained side to Elgar's music. Although her statements of the initial elegy in the first movement and rollicking rondo theme in the fourth are as emphatic as any I have heard, she also knows when to employ a more delicate tone, as in the lament in the third movement. It's like she is softly inviting the listener to enter Elgar's private thoughts and share his sorrows introspectively.

Ms. Albers possesses a subtle mastery of her instrument that is a joy to hear. She may be a lower profile cellist than some others on the scene today, but this allows the listener to concentrate on the felicities of the music rather than be dazzled by the performer's technique. As she demonstrated in the Elgar, she can, however, assert herself when a defiant and strongly etched phrase is needed. Most impressive.

In previous reviews I've commended Mr. Novo for his tendency to perform symphonic works "straight," with few mannerisms or eccentricities in interpretation. That approach worked well with such magnificent compositions as the Shostakovich 10th or Sibelius' Second Symphony. Unfortunately, in an uneven work like the Schumann Symphony No. 4 (arguably Schumann's weakest symphony), it didn't work well at all.

Robert Schumann's symphonic work is very problematic. He was a master of small lyrical themes, and this mastery shows to its best advantage in his piano music and his songs. But in the Fourth Symphony, the listener is left with a few lovely melodies that are never developed in symphonic fashion: The composer either repeats them several times with little or no variation, or simply drops them and moves on to something else.

The best parts of the ASO's reading of the symphony were the first and fourth movements. In them, Mr. Novo aptly highlighted Schumann's undeniable feeling for melody and directness of expression. The two middle movements, however, were turgid and prosaic, with the ASO exhibiting a nice sense of structure, but little else.

So give the ASO a batting average of .750 (excuse the baseball analogy, but spring training is here), a very laudable one, particularly considering the striking variety of music performed. The eclectic nature of this concert was well within the realm of what Annapolis audiences have come to expect from the ASO and serves as a very positive response to those jaded listeners who wearily complain that classical orchestras only play the same music over and over again. In fact, if one reviews the ASO programs of the past two seasons, one finds an attractive variety of works - both the familiar and the unusual - to appeal to the musical taste of the most discerning musical connoisseur.

And so I say to Mr. Novo, in the spirit of that great musical commentator Oliver Twist, "Please, Sir - I want some more."

David Lindauer, a lifelong student of music, reviews classical music for The Capital.