But Mr. Trifonov revealed the shape and content of these passages, bringing out crucial thematic threads and highlighting sudden harmonic shifts. Even when the piano, for long stretches, seemed to take a supportive role to the orchestra, the piano writing was animated and intricate. Mr. Trifonov played with an uncanny balance of tenderness and flair: Call it soft-spoken virtuosity.

The slow movement, a theme and variations form, began with a solo clarinet playing a melancholic melody against a mellow choir of strings. The piano took up the theme, adding lacy lines in its high register. There was a jostling dance variation, a sternly forceful one that recalled Chopin’s Prelude in C minor, and, finally, a waltzing, dizzying coda. The final movement was a feisty dance, like a Russified Chopin mazurka, with spiraling runs and bursts of chords, played by Mr. Trifonov with fire and élan, though not a trace of showiness for its own sake. The orchestra under Mr. van Zweden sounded inspired.

Mr. Trifonov played a solo encore, a perfect choice: Scriabin’s Étude in C sharp minor (Op. 42, No. 5), a compact, rhapsodic, near-crazed piece from the period when the composer wrote diabolically mystical works.

After intermission Mr. van Zweden turned to Tchaikovsky Fifth Symphony, written in 1888 when the composer was a towering figure in Russian music, though not without his critics. It’s poignant to read the insecure Tchaikovsky’s own criticism of this symphony, which suffered, he wrote, from his “want of skill in the management of form.” Actually, its form seems innovative and ingenious. That structure came through clearly in the incisive, rich performance Mr. van Zweden drew from the Philharmonic.