Mother Russia's music (and her baritone)

Baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky (seen here in May) brought arias and folk songs to Symphony Hall Tuesday night. (Hiroyuki Ito for The New York Times/file)

Boston's Russian community turned out in force Tuesday night to hear the suave, white-haired Siberian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky perform an eclectic program of mostly Russian music with the Moscow Chamber Orchestra led by Constantine Orbelian. Waiting to get into Symphony Hall, I didn't hear a single word of English spoken. Inside there were lots of empty seats (tickets topped out at $150), but those present brought enough enthusiasm to make up for the sparse turnout.

Boston was the last stop on a 13-city tour that Hvorostovsky, speaking from the stage, called the longest of his life. That may have at least partly explained the slightly restrained quality of the first half of the program, which featured signature arias from Tchaikovsky's "Eugene Onegin" and "Queen of Spades." The rest of the selections were welcome rarities, from Rachmaninoff's opera "Aleko" and Anton Rubinstein's "The Demon" and "Nero."

Hvorostovsky looked slightly torn between projecting the crowd-pleasing Pavarottian persona the audience seemed to want, and modeling the gravitas befitting a great Verdi baritone. But even with that awkward tension looming, he still sounded wonderful. His baritone is a rare instrument, immensely smooth and deep, full but agile, and never forced or strained. One quality it lacks is a surface brilliance that he might have otherwise used to electrify this crowd. Instead, he won them over through patient, elegant lyricism. Under Orbelian's lead, the Moscow Chamber Orchestra was a sensitive partner, with a sound that was dark-hued and almost always polished, though the string playing could have used more definition and bite.

Hvorostovsky was freer and more unbuttoned, literally and figuratively, in the second half, which featured several popular Russian songs in orchestral arrangements. But not even the addition of players from the Russian folk ensemble Style of Five could save some of these tunes, in their soupy arrangements, from sounding to the outsider's ear too close to Russian Muzak. Neapolitan songs including "O Sole Mio" and short instrumental works rounded out the formal program.

Of course no one expected to leave without encores, and the performers obliged, beginning with "Dark Eyes," which drew cheers from the opening bars alone. After that, Hvorostovsky shifted the tone by sharing some brief memories of performing in Symphony Hall in 1991. He then gave a beautifully earthy and deeply personal rendition of an unaccompanied folk song called "Nochen'ka" or "Little Night." It was full of majestic arching phrases and dark Russian soul, and by the end, the singer himself seemed to have drifted elsewhere. For the first time, there was a breath of silence between the music and the applause. Could the evening have had more of these transporting moments? Maybe, maybe not. Hvorostovsky moved promptly into heartthrob mode, wading through the orchestra to give kisses to each one of the women. The closing rendition of "Moscow Nights" had his delighted Russian fans singing in their seats.

Jeremy Eichler can be reached at jeichler@globe.com