Here comes the … orchestra

There are two standards for judging Beatles covers. Does the new version do justice to the original? Or does it surpass it, or at least expand the way we hear the root version by extending it into uncharted territory?

At the Mann Center on Thursday night, the Philadelphia Orchestra, along with a host of musical guests, passed the first test with aplomb. The second, far loftier mark, they passed only rarely, but then that's a standard that few in the history of recorded music have managed to meet.

The occasion for the orchestra's Beatlefest was Down the Abbey Road, a reimagining of the group's album commissioned by the Knight Foundation. Lucas Richman conducted arrangements by Don Hart, and the orchestra was joined by James Nash and the NashVillains, with vocals by Rodney Crowell and Joan Osborne.

Richman moved the audience into pop-song territory gently, first with some Berlioz and then a Paul McCartney composition called "A Leaf." Sir Paul's piece, from his 1999 album Working Classical, was less overreaching than much of his orchestral work, although it never surpassed the complexity of a good film score.

Then it was time for the main event. Hart wrong-footed the audience by beginning with "The End," or at least its redolent closing lines: "The love you take is equal to the love you make." From there, it was straight through the record, with an intermission between Sides 1 and 2.

"Come Together" got things off to a less than promising start. The band's amplified instruments overwhelmed the orchestra at first, and when the mix was evened out, the washes of strings served to neuter the song's gnarly blues. But with "Something," new possibilities started to open up. As one of the Beatles' most ariose, even schmaltzy, songs, "Something" would seem the least in need of orchestral rearrangement, but Hart's version actually sounded sparer and more delicate than the original. Crowell, an accomplished country artist who helped orchestrate the crossover sounds of Emmylou Harris and Rosanne Cash, has a voice more supple than George Harrison's but no less vulnerable, lending a touch of poignancy to the song's romance. During his fiddle solo, Stuart Duncan seemed to be playing with the recorded version as a silent counterpoint, zigging where Harrison's guitar zags.

With "Oh! Darling," Osborne came to the fore, lending her formidable snarl to a more anguished and visceral take on romance. With a dash of Dixieland, "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" became more of a drunken reel than a morbid joke, and the steady swell of "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" put the orchestra's power to splendid use.

The root flaw of Down the Abbey Road is in its conception. The orchestra's presence on stage more or less demands its constant participation, but the evening would have more dramatic range if it were silent for a song or two. Hart pared back "Because" to half a dozen violins and cellos, which was certainly a step in the right direction.

Alternatively, it might make more sense to span the Beatles' career rather than fix the set list in advance. "Get Back," from Let It Be, served as a brief encore, but it seems a shame to convene a symphony and not try one's hand at "A Day in the Life."